It was the sign. Those who were ready to kill him dashed forward. But he was too quick for them and while he parried the blow he was surrounded by his own men, for they had realized almost at once that this was no ordinary brawl. This was an attempt to assassinate their leader. They would defend him with their lives and this they proceeded to do.

Warwick, bold adventurer that he was, saw at once that he was in a very dangerous position. His men were outnumbered and the purpose of this affray was to kill him. His only hope lay in escape. His well-trained men grasped the situation immediately. They cut a path through the shouting royalists and Warwick hurried through it. Several of his men guarded him while he with a few friends made his way out of the hall.

There was not a moment to lose. Even the gallant men of the Ragged Staff could not hold the royalists off indefinitely. Warwick’s barges were at the river’s edge and he and a few friends rushed to them and were on their way up river when their pursuers howling with frustrated rage came dashing down to the water’s edge.

‘We must make for Sandwich with all speed,’ said the Earl. ‘I shall return to Calais at once. I see I am unsafe here. The Queen has decided to murder me.’

Before he crossed, however, he sent messengers to his father Salisbury and to his uncle-in-law, the Duke of York, telling them of the assassination attempt and that he believed the Queen was responsible for it.

Warwick also sent messages to the Council which he had so hastily been forced to leave.

The Parliament had appointed him to Calais, he said. He would not give it up. He would abandon his estates in England rather.

Margaret was frustrated. Her scheme had failed; perhaps it had been clumsy, not well enough thought out; and now Warwick knew that there had been a plot to assassinate him and he would suspect the Queen was at the bottom of it.

Letters came to Calais from Salisbury and York telling Warwick that the Queen was preparing to attack. They believed that the plot against Warwick was the first step in her campaign. They would very soon be going into battle, for York had discovered that Margaret believed the King was popular enough to rally the people to his cause.

Warwick must return to England. They needed him.

Warwick considered this. Henry was useless in the role of King; more and more the real ruler would become Margaret. That would be disaster for England...and Warwick.

It was men such as Warwick who made Kings and Warwick had decided that York was the man to be King...York guided by Warwick.

He must leave Calais. He would take with him his trained men of the Ragged Staff to seek victory in the war against the Lancastrians.


* * *

Warwick rode through England from Sandwich to London in the style of a king. Everywhere the people of Kent came out to cheer him. They called him the Captain of Calais and he reminded them of the old days when England had kings worthy to lead them, when victory was the order of the day. Warwick was of that kind.

He knew it. He revelled in it. He thought: when the time comes I will make York a king.

His captains were led by Andrew Trollope and John Blount— two of the finest soldiers one could wish to meet who would serve him well, he believed, but they had implied with the utmost firmness that they would not take up arms against the King.

This was no conflict with the King, he had pointed out. This was a battle between certain noblemen. Henry was King—all accepted that. But the Queen chose his ministers; the Queen worked with the French against the English. What they had to do was to prevent that, to set up a council of ministers who would make sure that the best men ruled and the Queen was not allowed to pursue her treacherous way. All the captains saw the point of that and they were proud to march through the country flourishing the badge of the Ragged Staff.

Even so the people did not flock to march under his banner. They had had enough of war. They wanted no more, least of all civil war. Peace was what they wanted, peace and prosperity.

Sensing the mood of the Londoners, Warwick skirted the city and made for his home ground of Warwick. There he heard a sorry story. There had been raids by the Lancastrians. All over the country the people were taking sides and as a well-known supporter of his uncle-in-law York, his lands were considered fair game by the Lancastrians.

He was convinced that it was time to march against the Queen, and decided to make his way immediately to Ludlow where he would join York.

His father, the Earl of Salisbury, was in the meantime on the road to Ludlow and with him were his two sons. Sir John and Thomas Neville. As they were approaching Blore Heath to their great consternation they saw in the distance an armed force advancing towards them. It was too late to turn back. They had been seen, and within a very short time it became clear that they were about to encounter Lancastrians on the march.

Salisbury was greatly outnumbered.

‘We’ll beat them, never fear,’ said John Neville. ‘One of us is as good as three of them.’

It was the old cry of those who were going into battle against great odds. Salisbury did not like it. But there was no help for it. They must stand and fight.

The battle was swift and bloody. Men were dying all around. The Yorkists fought so fiercely that they were able to hold their ground against superior numbers until nightfall and then there was such confusion that Salisbury and those of his men who had come through the encounter were able to get away, which they thought the wisest course of action. It was with great sorrow that Salisbury learned that his two sons had been captured. They had been over bold, it seemed, in pursuing the enemy.

The fortunes of war, thought Salisbury ruefully; but at least he had escaped to ride on to Ludlow.

He would carry the news that the country was rising and taking sides.

Warwick arrived at Ludlow soon after his father. He too had encountered a hostile force. This was led by the Duke of Somerset but Warwick, seeing that they could be grossly outnumbered if they paused to fight and being sure that he could be of more use to the cause alive, gave the order to fly as they could and thus they avoided an encounter.

It was disconcerting to hear that his father had had a similar adventure and that his two brothers, John and Thomas, were in the hands of the enemy.

York greeted them with the utmost warmth and Cecily made them very welcome. She knew that Warwick was the brightest star of the Yorkist party for his reputation since he had gone to Calais had increased tremendously. He was reckoned to be the most outstanding man in the country. Cecily took note of such things.

York’s eldest son, Edward Earl of March, was fascinated by Warwick, and clearly proud of the family connection. It seemed to young Edward that Warwick embodied all the virtues of manhood. Edward was seventeen now, even more handsome than he had been as a boy; he had already topped six feet and was still growing. He was strong, full of vigour and determined on success, and Warwick liked the look of him as much as Edward liked Warwick. His brother Edmund, Earl of Rutland, younger by a year, lacked Edward’s outstanding good looks and spirits, but he was a fine boy all the same. York should be proud of them—and clearly was.

Young Edward came to their conferences. He was all for going into the attack. Wild, of course, thought Warwick, but he

was a bit that way himself. He was beginning to think that this young Edward might have qualities of leadership which were lacking in his father. Warwick mused that the Duke of York could have been King after the battle of St. Albans, but he could never quite overcome his scruples. It showed a good and just nature perhaps, but there were moments when kings could not afford such luxuries.

Warwick rejoiced that York had a son, for if York were to fall in battle there would be someone very worthy indeed to step straight into his shoes.

It was disconcerting to discover that the Queen had gathered together a sizeable army. Even Warwick was dismayed to see by how many they would be outnumbered.

Young Edward was boastful, and said he was glad that there were so few of them against the enemy. He was trying to be another Henry the Fifth. Well, it was a good sign.

Moreover Margaret sent messengers into the Yorkist camp to tell the men that if any of them put down their arms they would be freely pardoned. This made York very uneasy for he knew that his followers while they deplored the state of the country and knew it came through bad government, could not rid themselves of the belief that they were fighting against the King. It was amazing how Henry had managed to win their loyalty. They knew that he was a near saint; they knew of his love of prayer and learning. If only he had had the strength to govern, if only he had not been the tool of a ferocious Frenchwoman who had no judgment and was not above an act or two of treachery, they would never have thought of coming against him. They were not against him, they insisted. They were against the Queen and her advisers. If she would make York Protector again and Warwick was left to guard Calais for them they would be content.

But the Queen was stubborn; she would rather fight than work with York.

‘Once again,’ said York, I will send a message to the King as I did before the battle of St. Albans. I will tell him that we are his loyal subjects, but there are certain matters which must be set right.’

The Lancastrian army was before Ludlow; they had camped to the south of the town in the fields which were watered by the River Teme. Margaret was in good spirits. She knew that the people wanted to be loyal to their King. She had men and arms but her greatest asset was Henry himself.