Richard was anxious to show that he bore no personal venom towards Hastings. The late King had asked that Hastings be buried beside him so Richard ordered that the body should be taken to Windsor and there buried close to Edward in that chapel of St George's which Edward had started to build and which was as yet incomplete. As for Hastings' widow, Katherine, she should not be deprived of her goods, and Richard would take her under his protection.
jane Shore, he said, was of little importance robbed of her protectors. She was a harlot and as such should do penance and be deprived of her possessions. He would pass her over to the Church which could decide what her penance should be, and when it was performed she should be forgotten. He would take no action against her. She had been loved by his brother and he would remember that. The penance and the loss of the goods his brother and others had bestowed on her would be punishment enough.
Now to more serious business.
Elizabeth Woodville must be persuaded to come out of Sanctuary. If she would do this she could reside with the King and he and the Duke of York could be together as they wished; and so could the King's daughters.
If, however, the Queen refused to leave Sanctuary—and she could not be forced to do so—then the Duke of York must be taken from her.
The Council agreed that the choice should be put to her.
There was a great deal of rumour flying round not only London but the entire country.
First there was the spectacle of Jane Shore's walking through the streets barefooted wrapped in a worsted robe, a lighted taper in her hand.
It was the ultimate degradahon. They had sought to humiliate her and this they had done indeed.
She was stricken with grief. She blamed herself for the death of Hastings. She had brought him into the conspiracy with the Queen. But for her he would be alive today.
She could see the people as she walked; they crowded about her, eyes filled with curiosity, with malice, and with pleasure! They had envied her once when she was the adored mistress of the King. They had cheered her often. She had always tried to do what she could for the people. They had known it and loved her for it. But on occasions like these it was not those people who came out to gloat; it was the malicious, the envious, those who considered themselves virtuous.
'Harlot,' they called her. Well, she supposed she was. A whore was not a better one because she was a King's whore.
No. She had loved the King; she had loved Hastings. The goldsmith ... no she had never loved him but she had been forced into that marriage by her father. The relationship with Dorset had not been a good one. She was ashamed of that. But where was Dorset now . . . plotting somewhere against the Protector.
The Protector despised her. She believed he always had. She knew he had deplored the King's fondness for her. The Protector was cold, aloof but just, she believed. He might have sentenced her to death himself instead of handing her over to the Bishop of London.
She was sure that remembering his brother's fondness for her he had been lenient.
This horror would pass.
Her feet were bleeding for the cobbles were sharp; she was aware of the eyes that followed her. Into the Cathedral she went with her taper; and then out once more to make confession at Paul's Cross.
Eyes watched her. All marvelled at her; because she who had so much had sunk so low.
Jane was desolate. Edward was gone; Hastings was gone.
What was there left for her?
'MY LIFE WAS LENT'
It was three days since the death of Hastings. The Council had decided that a proposition must be put to the Queen. With an armed guard they rode up the river to Westminster.
It was decided that the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Bourchier, should head the deputahon to the Queen and that Lord Howard should go with him.
Richard and Buckingham would await their return in the Palace.
Elizabeth received them with great misgiving. She had heard of Hastings' execution and that Jane Shore had been set to do penance; she had also heard that Jane had been deprived of her worldly goods.
It was a great setback. Elizabeth had been hoping for a great deal from an alliance with Hastings. She and he had always been such great enemies and the fact that he had sought a reconciliation had been particularly pleasing to her.
Elizabeth had always enjoyed intrigue, and from the moment she and her mother had set out to capture the King and succeeded in doing so, she had believed she had a special talent for it.
She had looked forward to Jane Shore's visits and now of course someone had betrayed them.
She wondered what this deputation meant. That it was of the greatest importance was obvious from the presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury.
He greeted her with respect as indeed he should. Was she not the mother of the King? How she longed to see her son; and how comforting it had been when Jane had brought her messages from him.
The Archbishop came straight to the point.
'My lady, it is the wish of the Protector that you emerge from Sanctuary/ he said. 'You need have no fear. You have the Duke of Gloucester's word that you shall be treated as the mother of the King.'
Elizabeth lifted her head and her eyes glittered.
'What of my brother. Lord Rivers? Richard of Gloucester has imprisoned him. For what reason?'
'My lady, you must know that your brother Lord Rivers and your son Lord Richard Grey attempted to take the King from the Protector. They withheld from him the news of the King's death. It is for this reason that they are now his captives.'
'As I should be if I came out of Sanctuary.'
'That is not so, my lady. You have not committed these offences.'
'I do not trust the Duke of Gloucester.'
'He prides himself on keeping his word. He promised the late King that he would guard his son and that is what he is determined to do.'
'I am the King's mother. It is for me to guard him.'
Bourchier bowed his head and started again. 'The Protector offers you an alternative. Come out of Sanctuary or deliver to me the Duke of York.'
'Deliver him to you! Why? He is a child. He should be with his mother.'
'His brother is asking for him. He wants him to join him in his apartments in the Tower.'
'I shall not let him go.'
'My lady, you have no alternative. Either you must come out of Sanctuary with your son and daughters—and the Protector promises that if you do you will be treated with the respect due to your rank—or you must deliver up the Duke of York.'
Elizabeth was silent. She did not want to lose her son; on the other hand dared she emerge from Sanctuary? Her great hope lay in trying to raise an insurrection against the Protector which she had thought possible through Hastings.
She must stay in Sanctuary.
What if she let the little Duke go? He would be with his brother. Poor child, he would hate to leave her and his sisters, but he would be going to his brother . . . and it would be good for Edward to have his little brother with him.
Should she leave Sanctuary so that they could all be together? It was what her maternal feelings told her she should do. She knew Gloucester well enough to know that he would not be harsh with her unless she deliberately plotted against him. In truth he had been lenient with Jane Shore. He suspected her of plotting; she had indeed brought messages from Hastings; some would have had her head for that. Penance and confiscation had been enough for Gloucester.
No, he would not be hard on her. He would remember his brother's affection for her and for that reason he would be kind.