Henry still retained a certain popularity; there was the hope that Margaret would produce an heir; as for the unpopularity of the Queen, queens had often been unpopular and it would be unwise to put too much stress on the people’s suspicions of this one.

As he began to march towards London men joined him.. They wanted a strong King and they were alarmed at the loss of the French possessions and the influence of the Queen.

Richard’s spirits were rising particularly when he heard that William Tresham who had been Speaker of the House of Commons was on his way to meet him. Tresham’s differences with Suffolk had deprived him of his post. He had turned against the Court party led by Margaret and now clearly saw that there was a chance of the Duke of York’s becoming a power in the land.

It was obvious that when he had heard of York’s landing he had decided to join him. What could be a better indication of the support Richard would get from those who were dissatisfied with the present régime?

Alas, a great disappointment was to follow for Tresham never reached him. He was intercepted by Edmund Grey, Lord Grey de Ruthin, in Northamptonshire and in the encounter was slain.

So, thought Richard, although there would be some to support him, there would be powerful men against him. He would have to go warily.

He had one strong ally in the Duke of Norfolk. Even before the news of York’s return Norfolk had expressed his dissatisfaction with the King’s—or rather the Queen’s—rule and had summoned certain knights and squires down to his castle of Framlingham to discuss this matter.

As soon as he heard that York was in England he set out to meet him and they met at Bury where they immediately went into a conference together.

Nothing was said about York’s claim to the throne. That was too dangerous a matter and Richard had to feel his way very carefully. He had encountered certain opposition and it was clear that the nobility had not exactly rallied to his banner. He would therefore intimate that all he wanted was reforms. He and Norfolk were joined by the Earl of Oxford and Lord Scales. There would be a meeting of Parliament shortly and they decided together who should be the knights of the shire for Norfolk.

So far so good. Men were rallying round York and he sent messages ahead asking all those who wished him well to join him. By the time they reached London he had with him four thousand armed men.

He was easily able to overcome the attempt to keep him from the King’s presence and forcing his way in he confronted Henry, when he knelt with a humility which Henry was greatly relieved to see. York was his kinsman. He meant no harm, he was sure. He bade him rise and state why he had come in this manner.

‘My lord King,’ said York. ‘I come to ask for justice...nothing more. I have not been paid for my work in Ireland and I find it impossible to continue there. I have heard that there have been lies uttered against me in regard to the rogue Jack Cade and I come to assure you that this man was a stranger to me. I never knew his name until after his death and I deplore his treachery towards yourself as every right-thinking man in England must do.’

‘I believe you,’ said Henry. ‘Why, dear cousin, you are my friend, I know. We were much disturbed by this matter and have never believed you had a part in it.’

York took the King’s hand and kissed it.

‘Then my lord, these matters will be dealt with in Parliament.’

‘They must be indeed, and dear cousin, remember that when you come with an army there will be those to oppose you. That is natural, eh? But to me you come in peace and as you so rightly say these matters must be settled by Parliament.’

‘My lord, perhaps you will appoint a council.’

‘I will indeed.’

‘And in view of my position I should be a member of that council.’

‘So it shall be,’ said the King.

York bowed, well pleased. It was easy to deal with Henry. All he wanted was peace.


* * *

Inside the Temple in London where a meeting had been held between certain members of the Parliament to discuss the losses in France it had grown unbearably hot and the meeting had broken up with acrimony on both sides, chiefly between the Duke of Somerset and the Earl of Warwick.

Somerset was blamed by Warwick for the disastrous losses in France and Warwick was of the opinion that a man who had brought such ill fortune to his country should be impeached.

Both men were of overbearing natures. Both considered themselves of rare importance. Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, had the support of the Queen and through her that of the King. Moreover he was royal. His grandfather was John of Gaunt and if his father had had to be legitimized he was still royal. In his youth he had won brilliant victories in France; he had been known as one of the greatest commanders. Was it his fault if the whole battle front had changed, if some blight had settled on the English armies? He was beginning to believe that those were right who thought Joan of Arc had really been sent from Heaven, and Somerset was not going to be blamed for what was inevitable. Of course he had failed in France. No one could have succeeded in such circumstances. Secretly he believed that if Henry died—and Henry was sickly and without heirs—there was no sign of one after all these years—he, Somerset, would have good claim to the throne.

The Earl of Warwick was watching him intently as though reading his thoughts.

Warwick, thought Somerset. Who was Warwick? Of very little importance before he had had his first stroke of luck in marrying Anne Beauchamp, daughter of the Earl of Warwick. Salisbury’s son who had married the only daughter of Richard Beauchamp and inherited her father’s vast lands and title of Earl of Warwick! Strangely enough he and Somerset were related because Warwick’s grandmother had been Joan Beaufort, daughter of John of Gaunt.

These entwined branches sprang from many trees. Warwick’s aunt Cecily had married the Duke of York, and Warwick was allying himself more and more with York.

The real enemy, Somerset believed, was the Duke of York. Yes, York was determined to destroy him. Somerset knew where York’s thoughts were moving. He saw himself as heir to the throne. Sickly Henry, childless, and an unpopular Queen meant that eyes were all turned on the next claimant.

It could be York. Some would say he was the most likely. But Somerset was not without his supporters.

As they walked out into the Temple gardens for a breath of fresh air the scent of the roses was everywhere. They had been well tended and grew in profusion on either side of the path and the gardener had arranged them so that red roses were on one side, white on the other.

Warwick approached Somerset and there was no mistaking the hostility in his eyes.

‘My lord,’ said Warwick, ‘you should count yourself fortunate that you walk freely in these gardens.’

‘I understand you not, my lord,’ retorted Somerset.

‘Ours is a sad country these days, my lord. How long ago is it since the streets of this city were ringing with triumphant bells and there were processions there to celebrate our victories?’

‘You would know that, my lord Warwick, as well as I and I cannot think why you should ask such a question of me.’

‘Of whom else should I ask it, since you are the author of our troubles?’

‘You go too far.’

‘I will go as far as I consider seemly.’

People were beginning to gather round sensing a growing excitement. A quarrel between two of the mightiest nobles in the country.

Somerset’s hand was on his sword. He was notoriously quick-tempered. The Duke of Buckingham caught at his sleeve to restrain him. Warwick looked him steadily in the eyes.

‘My lord,’ said Warwick, ‘I see plans in your eyes.’

There was no mistaking his meaning. Somerset felt an uneasiness creeping over him.

‘I am loyal to the King,’ he cried. ‘I am his servant as long as he honours me with his commands.’

‘We are all good servants of the King and this realm,’ retorted Warwick. ‘But methinks, lord Somerset, that there is one who comes before you in his closeness to the King.’

‘So you are for York, are you, Warwick? You have decided j to take sides in this quarrel you seek to ferment.’

‘It is not of my fermenting but when there are those who concern themselves with great projects it is the duty of all honourable men to support that which is right.’

Somerset was seething with rage. He was alarmed. The country was against him. Unfairly they blamed him for defeats in France. He only had the support of the King and the Queen to rely on. But no, there were others. There must be some who did not want to see York rise to power.

He moved away from Buckingham’s restraining hand and plucking one of the red roses, the symbol of the House of Lancaster since the days of Edmund, Earl of Lancaster and brother of Edward the First, he cried out: I pluck this red rose. The red rose of Lancaster. I am for Lancaster and the King.’

Warwick turned away and immediately picked a white rose —the symbol of York—the white rose worn by the Black Prince himself. He held the rose on high. ‘I pluck this white rose,’ he said. ‘The white rose of York. Let every man among us choose his rose. Let him declare himself with these fair flowers. Then shall we know how we stand together.’

There was a shout of excitement as all began plucking the roses until the flower beds were completely denuded. Their cries filled the air.

‘For York. For Lancaster.’

This was the prelude. The curtain was about to be raised on the wars of the roses.