Authors: Nigel Green
Almost before I had time to consider this, yet more news arrived from Yorkshire. Gloucester had consolidated his position in the North still further by marrying Anne Neville, the younger daughter of the late Earl of Warwick. Nan was, of course, delighted with the news. She and her cousin, Anne Neville, had always been close and she was pleased that through the marriage Anne would regain her father's old home at Middleham and her rightful place in the North. Of course, Nan admitted, the marriage was probably not a love match, but it was undeniably very advantageous to both Richard and Anne Neville. Clearly Nan was coming round to the idea of Richard of Gloucester ruling the North, but I was not. I had no antipathy to the man for I knew little of him. What I did know is that he could not replace my dead Lords Montague and Warwick.
âOne hundred!'
I flung myself onto the bench in exhaustion and, ignoring the ache in my leg, looked triumphantly round the sunlit cloisters. Yesterday I had only managed fifty paces.
The sounds of clapping came from the shadows on the far side of the rectangle. I glanced up curiously. A richly dressed man in a fur-lined cloak stepped out of the shadows. He looked strangely familiar. Richard Ratcliffe grinned at my amazement.
âYou have done well for yourself!' I told Ratcliffe a while later. âAs we've known each other since we were boys, I am not going to call you Sir Richard.'
2
I noticed that he was taller now with prematurely grey hair, but was still as boisterous as ever. He had demonstrated considerable acumen by attaching himself to Richard of Gloucester as soon as he had arrived in the North. He had been entrusted with a number of missions by the duke and the combination of his brains and energy had served him well.
âThe Duke of Gloucester has been good to me, Francis,' he confessed. âHe arranged my marriage to Lord Scrope's daughter and presently I am to be made Constable of Barnard's Castle.'
âWell you once said that you needed a good lord and a better marriage,' I laughed, âand you seem to have acquired both.'
Against his tale of success, I had little to tell, but as shrewd as ever, Ratcliffe probed and prodded until he was totally familiar with my situation.
âSo you want to serve on the borders, but you won't swear loyalty to Richard of Gloucester?' he summarised. âA pity that; we could have used you in the West March.'
3
His mouth hardened.
âWe need to do something though; matters are going badly there.'
I was intrigued.
âWhy's that?'
âThe West March has been neglected and yet the threat of the Scots is still great there. Carlisle, our main bastion close to the border, has been allowed to decay and successive defeats have eroded morale. Most of the important people there were followers of the Earl of Warwick and have no time for Gloucester.'
What an opportunity, I thought wistfully.
âRichard of Gloucester is eager to have men forget their former loyalties,' Ratcliffe continued casually. âThe way we see it now is that the North will be much more secure and prosperous if people forget about Warwick and Montague and swear loyalty to Gloucester.'
He gave me a sidelong glance.
âSo tell me old friend, how do you feel about that?'
âI won't swear loyalty to him.'
Ratcliffe smacked the table impatiently.
âStop being so sanctimonious, Francis! Warwick and Montague are dead, whereas Gloucester â who incidentally was trained by Warwick â is very much alive in their place.'
He rose to go.
âGloucester will send for you. You know that, don't you?'
âWhy will he send for me?'
Ratcliffe snorted impatiently.
âI thought there was one thing you had not thought of.'
âWhat's that?'
âWell, everyone knows the story of how you tried to save Warwick's life when all his other followers had deserted him. Richard of Gloucester will believe that if you, of all people, transfer to his service and swear loyalty to him, then others will follow your example.'
Ratcliffe flung back his cloak.
âMake sure you give him the right answer when he calls you,' he advised, âthat is if you ever want to have a military career.'
Ratcliffe's prediction proved to be correct. Indeed, I had only been back in Yorkshire for a few months when Gloucester's summons arrived.
âI'm not entirely sure that you should refer to it as a summons,' Nan said thoughtfully as we walked beside the river that evening.
I bent down to lift her trailing blue dress. The path ahead looked slightly muddy.
âThank you, my love. But Francis, I would have said that the message from my cousin was more of an invitation. Anne Neville bids us to visit her and her husband Gloucester at Middleham. She writes that she and I have not seen each other for a long time and that she wishes to meet the man who tried to save her father.'
Nan looked at me proudly.
âWho also happens to be my husband.'
I smiled down at her sweet, upturned face and thanked God for the love that we were beginning to share. I gently steered her back towards the ivy-walled castle of Ravensworth.
âCome, Lovell.'
Richard was small, so I moved slowly. He waved his attendants away and headed over the drawbridge at Middleham. It was not until we were on the moors that he spoke again.
âYou would be amazed at the number of the Earl of Warwick's supporters without whose defection and assistance the king and I would not have won either Barnet or Tewkesbury.'
This did little to endear me to him, and perhaps he sensed it for he stopped and looked up at me. He had a strong face with a heavy chin. He regarded me steadily. His clothes were, I noticed, rich but without ostentation and his voice quiet and firm.
âWarwick's supporters have flooded to me,' he said.
It was a statement of fact, not a boast.
âAll of them pledge loyalty and commitment to me and ask me to be a good lord to them.' He smiled, almost boyishly. âThis means that they want offices or annuities, yet apart from your friend Ratcliffe, I don't know which of them to trust.'
It seemed hardly tactful to point out that if the duke and his brother, the king, had not killed Warwick they would not be facing this situation, so I maintained my silence and we walked on slowly.
âWarwick was like a father to me,' he said eventually, âas I hear that he and Montague were to you. He taught me much of men and their ways and how they should be governed. He took me into his family; he planned for me to marry his daughter.'
Richard glanced up at me.
âHe treated me even better than he and Montague treated you, Francis.'
âAnd, like you,' Richard continued, âI never knew my own father; I was young when he was killed, and my brother Edward was always too busy with other matters to bother much about me. He made me a royal duke, and yet I had few lands and less influence. Warwick, on the other hand, promised me estates amounting to ultimately half his own lands were I to marry his daughter.
âI think that, to be honest, I was frightened of Edward,' continued the duke. âHe is truly awe-inspiring when he is angry. Clarence, my other brother, could stand up to him for a while, but in the end he always backed down. When the final split between Warwick and Edward became apparent, my initial impulse was to side with Warwick and defy the king. I, like Clarence, would have worked with him to overthrow the king.'
âWhat stopped you?' I asked fascinated.
He smiled at me.
âAll of us have a duty to our lord, who in turn has obligations to support us and reward us for that loyalty. Without that loyalty, Christian society ceases to exist and men become mere brutes.'
His chain of thought echoed mine, but I made no response.
âThe question I faced,' Richard continued in that quiet voice of his, âwas whether I should give my loyalty to the man who treated me as a son and who had promised me a great inheritance, or a distant brother who had largely ignored me and offered me little but who was the king.'
He shrugged.
âIn the end, the choice was obvious. With Edward, the anointed king on the throne, there would be a far greater chance of peace and stability in England than with Warwick and his faction ruling the country.
âSo I gave my loyalty to Edward and walked away from Warwick, whom I had loved as a father, with infinite sadness, but it was with the certainty that I had made the right choice. I tried to persuade Clarence to follow me, but he would have none of it. I think that Edward recognised my loyalty. He has given me much of the North to rule. I have offices and estates here and will create a greater power here than Warwick and Montague ever had.' He looked at me calmly. âThe difference, however, will be that I shall hold this land loyally for the king, not against him.'
He smiled ruefully.
âBut there is much to do. The Earl of Northumberland has to accept the subordinate position. Lawrence Booth in Durham had to learn his proper station. We need to strengthen ourselves against the Scots and trade needs to be developed. The fleet needs to be built up and Scarborough made a more secure harbour. Oh, the list is endless, but I believe we can achieve all of this and more given time and effort.'
He paused for a minute.
âAnd, of course, loyal men to help, Francis. Would you be such a one?'
I hesitated.
He laughed.
âI saw you with Warwick at Barnet. In fact, it was I who pulled Clarence away from you. Warwick had to die, Francis, but it would have been better if he had died in battle, not as he did. But what was shameful was that at the end he had but one attendant â you.'
I kept silent.
âYou were loyal to Montague and Warwick and I respect that, but they are dead now.' He looked round at the rolling countryside, resplendent in its variety of colours. âI love this place, Francis. I was brought up here, and when I die I will be buried in York. Before I die I have a dream, which I wish to fulfil; I want to build the North up into a rich, prosperous land where men can live safely, move about without fear of harm and their families dwell in peace and security. A land where men can freely obtain justice and where there are great monasteries to care for the sick and well-run churches to prepare men to meet their maker.'