‘With King Henry out of the way, things began to settle down. The House of Lancaster had been virtually wiped out, with a few notable exceptions, and everyone was looking forward to stable government and an end to civil war. The second half of Edward's reign may have begun as Shakespeare suggested at the end of his play - Henry the Sixth, Part Three - with Edward's final speech.
And now what rests but that we spend the time
With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,
Such as befit the pleasure of the court?
Sound, drums and trumpets! farewell, sour annoy!
For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.
‘Translated, it means “let's party”. There have been many and various descriptions of King Edward the Fourth, but one thing they all have in common is that he was a picture of a perfect king in his youth, but, as time wore on, his excessive nature began to affect his health and judgement. He was seen frequently outside All You Can Eat Dessert Bars and showed up at Council meetings with sticky fingers.’
Laura started to laugh and was kicked by Gail under the table just as their meals arrived, carried by a bemused waiter who had no doubt seen this little performance. Laura rearranged the table, allowing room for her meal and her notes. Years of study had given her the unique ability to read, converse and eat all at the same time.
Hardly stopping to admire their beautifully presented plates, they began to eat quietly and, except for the odd exclamation regarding the excellence of the meal, they ate in silence. Laura gave up first, unable to finish her plate. ‘Shall I continue?’ she asked, drawing her notes closer and her plate away.
‘Yes, please,’ Gail said, not looking up.
‘Not to put too fine a point on it, Eddie began to overindulge himself, not only with food and wine, but with women too, so that he became fat, lazy and lecherous in the extreme: a lesson to us all.’ Laura cleared her throat suggestively, took a sip of wine and then continued. ‘His Queen must have turned a blind eye to all this, perhaps seeing advantages in his adultery and its attendant guilt to press him for more and more favours for her family.
‘Richard was no doubt eager to get out of London and away from court. He may have disapproved of his brother's lifestyle, but he couldn't have done so too strenuously, since it would appear that he had a least one mistress and was supporting two bastard children, John and Katherine.’
Gail looked up, shocked. ‘Naughty boy.’
‘Mistresses, illegitimate children; it was no big deal in those days or any days for that matter.’ Laura shrugged. ‘Anyhow, since Edward was content to rest on his laurels, enjoying a good time at court, Richard took upon himself the task of securing the realm in his brother's name. I’m not going into all the grants, titles and land transfers with which Edward rewarded those faithful to him. Suffice to say that Richard benefitted greatly from his brother’s largesse, especially in the north.
‘Now, before leaving London to take up permanent residence in Yorkshire, he asked Anne Neville - Warwick's daughter - to marry him. She consented, which shouldn't come as a surprise, considering her situation. Her father was a grade A traitor, and she had been married, or at least betrothed, to the late and unlamented Edouard Lancaster, Prince of Wales.
‘Richard was no fool. By marrying Anne, he would inherit all the rights to Warwick's northern holdings and, he hoped, a share of the Beauchamp estates which Warwick acquired through marriage. Anne would also provide him with all the necessary introductions to the clan-like northern families. Although in all likelihood King Edward didn't approve of the match and perhaps foresaw some difficulties with brother George who just happened to be married to Anne’s sister, he finally gave his consent.
‘In July, 1471 Richard headed north with his own household and retainers and took up residence at Middleham, which must have pleased him no end. He was also granted the former Neville lordships of Sheriff Hutton and Penrith and the whole of Warwick's holdings in Yorkshire and Cumberland. Not a bad start for a kid not quite nineteen years old.’
‘This kid had already murdered someone,’ Gail huffed. ‘That’s a start too.’
Laura shrugged. ‘Hey, he only did what he had to do.’
‘Yeah, sure. Continue.’
‘Thank you. Let’s see. Ah … okay, by the autumn of 1471, Richard was back in London on urgent family business. George - and I should use his title - Duke of Clarence, was dead set against Richard's marriage to Anne, his sister-in-law as I said. Ever the dog in the manger, George insisted that all of the Beauchamp lands were his, and went so far apparently as to have Anne hidden in an inn in London to keep her out of Richard's hands. Richard's spy network soon found her and she was taken to St. Martin's to await the King's pleasure.
‘Although King Edward was capable of extreme anger, a hallmark of the Plantagenets I might add, he was generally the type of man who tried to make all the people happy all the time. The brothers argued back and forth in private until finally the case was handed over to an official hearing. A temporary arrangement was sorted out but the wrangle between the two Dukes was to continue for some time.
‘Anne and Richard were cousins, as well as in-laws and a papal dispensation should have been sought prior to their union, but this formality was overlooked and they were married, in July I think, 1472. Richard's son Edward was born in December, 1473, at Middleham.’
‘He had a son? I didn't know that.’ Gail was genuinely surprised.
‘You see, the Bard missed that; didn't even mention it.’
‘Just the best reason going for murdering the Princes though, isn't it?’ Gail said, smiling maliciously. ‘A clean succession; thanks Dad.’
Laura lowered her reading glasses. ‘I see, so you like Shakespeare’s version better? Usurp the throne and kill the kids, just for fun? Don’t bother mentioning the fact that Richard was a family man.’
‘Will was just using poetic licence or something, that’s all.’
‘Oh well, that’s all right then,’ Laura replied derisively. ‘We wouldn’t want historical fact to get in the way of a good story line, now would we? Shall I continue?’
‘Sure.’
‘While her estates were being argued over, the widowed Countess of Warwick remained in sanctuary at Beaulieu Abbey. In June 1473, Richard had her brought to Middleham to be with her daughter prior to the birth of young Edward. There’s major speculation on Richard's reasons for having his mother-in-law under his roof. They range from “isn't he the nicest boy” to “that will shut the old bag up”.
‘Apparently she had been writing to anyone of importance, complaining about the unfair treatment she had received regarding her estates. She had every right to complain. Apparently, she had been stripped of her inheritance by her two darling son-in-laws. Actions which were technically illegal, I might add, so the boys circumvented the law by having her declared legally dead. Nice trick, don’t you think?’
‘Could they do that?’ Gail asked, appalled.
‘They were royal dukes. What do you think?’
‘You mean they got away with it because of who they were? That’s not fair.’
Laura chuckled. ‘Fair, yes well, I think if you check down through history you’ll find that the law, despite every effort, tends to bend a little under the pressure of raw power.’ She paused for a sip of wine. ‘Anyhow, after his success with his mother-in-law, Richard put the screws on another widow, the dowager-countess Elizabeth Howard. She was the mother of the Earl of Oxford, one of the last surviving Lancastrian supporters and menace at large. Richard was granted