'My lady,' cried the Chancellor, 'you must not despair. 1 have had word from my Lord Hastings. "All will be well", he says.'
'Hastings!' cried the Queen in fury. 'If ever a man was my
enemy that man is. He is determined to destroy me and my family. What he calls good is bad for me, my lord.'
The Chancellor was horrified.
'Oh my lady, my lady/ he cried, 'what shall we do?'
'You will stand by me, my lord? I shall have some friends.'
'My lady, you may rely on me to defend your cause.' He took the Great Seal and placed it in her hands.
Elizabeth took it gratefully and bade the Archbishop go back to his palace. Ere long she, with her family, would be leaving for Sanctuary.
The goods she was taking with her were packed. She sent for her children and they came, bewildered. They had never known the uneasy days. Their lives had all been guarded by their great indulgent all-powerful father. There was lovely Elizabeth, sixteen years old now and who should have been Dauphine of France at this time but for the treachery of Louis, the shock of whose deception had doubtless hastened Edward's death. Cecily, fourteen years old. And Anne eight, Catherine four and little Bridget three. Seeing them together thus the Queen thought of poor Mary and the great sorrow her death had brought them. Elizabeth and Edward had often congratulated themselves that they had been more lucky than most families because although they had lost three children—Margaret, George and now Mary—they had kept the rest and out of ten they had seven left to them and that was a very good number. The Queen embraced them all tenderly. She kept young Richard close to her. He as the boy was very precious. He was ten years old now and he was always asking queshons about his brother and wanting to see him. She had often considered sending him to Ludlow, but she had been unable to resist the temptation to keep him with her.
Now she was glad.
'My dear children,' she said to them, 'something dreadful has happened. Your wicked uncle Gloucester has taken the King from my lord Rivers and now holds him. I am afraid of what he will do when he brings him to London and for that reason we are all going into Sanctuary until we know what is happening.'
'Are we taking all these things with us?' asked Richard.
'Yes, my son, we are not leaving them behind for your uncle to have.'
'Will he kill Edward?'
'No, no. Nobody is going to kill anybody. He wouldn't dare. But he wants to rule through Edward and we are not going to allow that to happen.'
'Are we going to fight him. . . .'
'We are powerful enough to stop him.'
'The Woodvilles will be able to/ said Elizabeth. 'They are the most powerful family in the country.'
'That is so and rightly,' said the Queen. 'Remember, my dears, that you are Woodvilles too. Now Elizabeth and you Cecily, take care of the little ones. We should be leaving at once. The sooner we are in Sanctuary the more relieved I shall be.'
They went out into the barge and soon arrived at the Sanctuary beside the Abbey.
'I was here once before,' said young Elizabeth.
'Yes,' murmured the Queen, 'and I never thought this could ever befall us again.'
'Well, we are together,' Elizabeth reminded her.
'Not all of us,' piped up Richard. 'Edward isn't.'
'We shall soon have the King with us,' said the Queen firmly.
Waiting in Northampton Gloucester received Hashngs' message.
The Woodvilles had clearly realized they were beaten. The Queen had fled with her children into Sanctuary. Rotherham, the foolish old man, had lost his head and given the Great Seal back to the Queen though no sooner had he committed this act of folly than he had attempted to retrieve it. He had been too late however; the Queen had gone and when it was realized what he had done he had naturally been deprived of his office.
It would be fitting now for Gloucester to bring the King to London.
So all was going according to plan. Gloucester could be sure that if Edward could look down from Heaven he would approve of what had been done. He had decided that it would be unwise to send Rivers, Grey and Vaughan to the same place of imprisonment and far safer to keep them separately confined. Rivers should go to Sheriff Hutton as originally intended, Richard Grey to Middleham and Vaughan to Pontefract.
He was now prepared to march on London. The King was a
little sullen; he showed clearly that he did not like his Uncle Gloucester and deeply resented that the uncle of whom he was very fond should with his half-brother be taken away from him.
Gloucester tried to talk to the boy of his father and how friendly they had been as brothers. Gloucester reminded the young King of his motto Loyaulte me lie which he had always adhered to and on which the late King had always been able to rely. Gloucester implied that he would now transfer that loyalty to the new King.
'Why, Edward/ he said, 'you are your father's son, my own nephew. To whom should I owe my loyalty but to you?'
Edward listened politely but there was a sullen line to his mouth.
'Perhaps,' he said, 'you could bring my uncle Lord Rivers to me for I do not know of what he can possibly be accused.'
'He will have a fair trial and then you will understand.'
T do not need a trial to tell me that he is innocent of all wrong doing,' said the King.
'You are loyal to those you believe to be your friends and that is admirable,' was all Gloucester said.
He was eager to show the King that he wanted to take nothing from him. All he wanted to do was set him on the throne and help him to govern wisely.
On the fourth of May—the day the Woodvilles had selected for his coronation—Edward the Fifth rode into London.
He was attired in blue velvet which became him well and his fair hair falling to his shoulders made of him a pretty sight. The people cheered him, though they had had their fill of Kings who were minors and knew that good rarely came of them. What England needed was a strong king—a man such as this boy's father had been.
Beside the King rode the Duke of Gloucester; he was sombrely clad in black, a contrast to the King's rich garments. And on the other side of the King was Buckingham, clad like Gloucester in black.
Solemnly they rode. The people cheered so wildly that Elizabeth with her children in the Sanctuary of Westminster heard them and she was exultant. It would not be long she promised herself and her family. Soon they would be out of this place and with the King.
The people looked at the Duke of Gloucester, pale, serious and sombre. His brother had relied on him, trusted him.
We have a young King, they thought; but we shall have a wise Protector. Edward in his wisdom has left us well provided for.
News of what was happening outside was brought into the Sanctuary. Elizabeth was desolate. The people accepted Richard; they saw in him a wise ruler, a man who had remained loyal to his brother and had had his confidence. He was serious-minded and had shown that he was a wise administrator by the order he had kept in the North of England. They loved their little King. He was good-looking and youth was always appealing providing there were those who could guide it.
The country unanimously agreed that Richard of Gloucester should be the Lord Protector, and Defender of the Realm.
He was against the Woodvilles but then so was the country. They had watched the avaricious Queen push her family into all the most important houses in the country. Well, that was going to be over now and the Protector had acted promptly and with good sense when he had arrested Rivers and Richard Grey and made Dorset realize that the only place where he would be safe was in Sanctuary.
Dorset was restive. He could not bear being confined in Sanctuary. How could he possibly pursue the kind of life which he had found so necessary to him in such a place? He missed Jane. He laughed slyly to think that she was his mistress. It had happened as soon as the King died—as he had known it would. He had long had his eyes on Jane and he would not have waited for the death of the King. She was the one who insisted on that. Jane was different from other women he had known; Edward had always said she was and he was right. She was not a natural harlot; she was warm-hearted and amorous by nature, bom to it, as Edward had said; and yet there was no question of buying her favours. It is not easy to give Jane anything, the King had said wonderingly. Dorset was cynical; at first he had thought she was just exceptionally clever as his own sister was in her way. But there could not be another woman living less like Elizabeth.