“I owe it all to my newly appointed Archbishop of Canterbury,” he heard the new King saying.
“What I did, my lord, was what any of your loyal subjects would have done had God favored them with the good fortune to see the truth.”
He saw himself riding into Canterbury, the Archbishop who had saved the throne for the rightful king and rid the country of the impostor.
But these were only dreams—pleasant to indulge in for a while, but insubstantial. There must be some action some time.
He visited his friend frequently and often he was on the point of telling him of his discovery, but he refrained from doing so. He was afraid of bringing his theories into the light of day because he greatly feared they would immediately evaporate.
Instead he talked of events of the days of great Edward and the accession of Richard.
“The Tudor has a very flimsy claim to the throne,” he insisted.
His friend always looked furtively over his shoulder when he talked like that. He was a timid man. “It is of little concern to us,” he said. “What difference does it make to the life of a humble priest what king is on the throne?”
“I like to see justice done,” said Richard piously.
“We all do as long as it doesn’t do us any harm. We know it could have worked so differently. As you say, Richard might not have died at Bosworth. He might have lived to have sons. Or there might have been others to come to the throne. There’s young Edward of Warwick and his sister Margaret. They are children, I know. But there is John de la Pole, the Earl of Lincoln. They say that Richard made him the heir to the throne . . . in case he didn’t get children of his own . . . on account of the Earl of Warwick’s being but a boy.”
“The King has young Warwick under lock and key in the Tower, which shows he’s afraid of him. What has this young boy done . . . a boy of ten years or so, to deserve imprisonment? Why he’s as innocent as . . . as . . .”
A vision of the young Lambert Simnel came into his mind. He must be about the same age as the imprisoned Earl of Warwick.
“I wonder,” he went on, “why some of them don’t rise up and, er . . . do something about it.”
“Oh, Henry Tudor is safe on the throne, particularly now he’s married Elizabeth of York . . . uniting the houses . . . and as they’ve got a son . . . young Arthur . . . well, he’s safe enough now.”
“But I reckon some people feel angry about it. I reckon there’s the Earl of Lincoln for one. . . .”
He was excited. He wanted to get away to think. He had to be practical. What hope had a poor unknown priest of bringing about a rebellion? Why hadn’t he seen before that he needed help? He was reluctant to share the glory but on the other hand shared glory was better than no glory at all.
Suppose he went to the Earl of Lincoln. Would the mighty Earl receive a humble priest? But perhaps he would want to see a priest who believed he had made a great discovery.
And then it seemed to him that he had a sign from Heaven.
It was his friend who imparted the news to him. He had been wondering how he could find the Earl of Lincoln when his fellow priest said: “Have you heard the latest news? They say that the young Earl of Warwick has escaped from the Tower.”
Richard’s heart began to hammer against his side. Escaped from the Tower! When? It could have been some time ago because such news took a long time to get around.
The young Earl of Warwick was aged about ten. He must look rather like the boy in the baker’s shop.
Now he must act. This had decided him.
It was not easy to get an audience with the great Earl of Lincoln but when Richard Simon eventually succeeded in doing so what he had to say received the Earl’s full attention.
John de la Pole was about twenty-three years old. He deeply resented what he called the usurpation of the Tudor. In his view Richard the Third had been the undoubted King and he believed that the children of Edward the Fourth were illegitimate, which made the Earl of Warwick the heir to the throne. Nobody wanted a child king; nothing was worse for the stability of the country; therefore the Earl of Lincoln himself was the one who should be wearing the crown. His mother had been Elizabeth, sister to Edward the Fourth, and therefore he considered his claim indisputable. Richard the Third had thought so too for he had named him his heir.
“I was struck by the looks of this boy called Lambert Simnel as soon as I perceived him,” said Richard. “He quite clearly did not begin his life in a baker’s shop.”
“But you do not know what the Earl of Warwick looks like.”
“That is true, my lord, and my first thoughts were that here was one of the Princes . . . son of Edward the Fourth.”
“They are illegitimate. They haven’t the same claim to the throne as the Earl of Warwick.”
“And now that we hear he has escaped from the Tower . . .”
The Earl nodded.
“Has he the looks of an earl? Has he the manner?”
“He has indeed, my lord.”
“And have you spoken with him?”
Richard hesitated. “His speech is a little rough . . . like that of apprentices in the streets of London.”
“Not like an earl . . . eh, and a royal earl. Of course speech is acquired and if he has been long in the baker’s shop, it would be natural for him to adopt that method of speech.”
“So thought I.”
“The people would not accept him unless he appeared perfect in every respect. There would be those who would call him an impostor even though he were proved conclusively to be the Earl of Warwick.”
The Earl of Lincoln was thoughtful. Then he went on: “There would be many who would support the Earl of warwick against the Tudor.”
“I know that well, my lord. There are many who murmur against Henry Tudor. One hears whispers in the streets.”
“It is among people in high places that we should look to support this cause. When we have that, the people in the streets may flock to our banners.”
“My lord, I would do everything within my power to see this wrong righted.”
The Earl nodded. “The Irish have always supported the House of York,” he said. “They deplore the coming of the Welshman. My aunt, King Edward’s sister, the Duchess of Burgundy would help us I know. I have a feeling that the Dowager Queen is not very happy even though Henry Tudor has made her daughter Queen. I will leave England and sound out these people. In the meantime it would be well for you first to have an audience with the Queen Dowager, sound her. She could be a very good ally in the very center of Court itself.”
Richard’s heart was bursting with pride. His wildest dreams were becoming realities. He, to have an audience with the Queen Dowager! It was beyond belief. But he would do it. He would bring this about. The Archbishopric of Canterbury was not far off.
“Then,” went on the Earl of Lincoln, “you must get the boy and bring him to Ireland. There we will make sure that he has forgotten none of those customs and modes of speech which would be becoming in the Earl of Warwick.”
It was very irksome for Elizabeth Woodville to be frustrated at every turn by the Countess of Richmond. She wanted to shout at her: “I am a queen. What are you? A countess! Your husband was the son of a bastard; and you yourself come from the bastard Beauforts. I am a queen I tell you. I reigned with Edward. He was my devoted husband until the day of his death. My daughter is now Queen of England. How dare you adopt this patronizing manner toward me!”