‘Now we shall return to England and claim our own,’ he declared.

Anne was wondering what had happened to Edward and most of all to Richard.


Edward was in the North when news of Warwick’s arrival was brought to him. He could not believe it. Warwick – to join forces with Margaret of Anjou! Anne Neville betrothed to the Prince! He was astounded. He had always refused to believe that Warwick could really become his enemy.

He was concerned for Elizabeth and the children who were in London and to make matters more awkward Elizabeth was far advanced in pregnancy. Cecily was merely a year or so old and even the eldest, another Elizabeth, was only five. Warwick would very likely have the South-east with him, for he had always been popular there.

Edward rejoiced that Montague could be trusted to hold the North. John Neville, Lord Montague was the only Neville who had failed to support his brother, and he remained faithful to Edward. This had been a great help because Montague was one of the most successful captains in England. It was a source of great irritation to Warwick that a member of the family should not support him. But Montague had sworn allegiance to the Yorkist cause as they all had in the beginning and he was not going to break his word now just because his brother had.

At least that was before Edward had restored estates to the Earl of Northumberland which Montague had looked upon as his. For his successful campaigns he had been awarded the title of Marquis of Montague but of what use was that with only what had been called a ‘pye’s nest’ to maintain it.

Edward had forgotten this and did not realise that he had committed another of his mistakes in judging the characters of men. Montague had fought for him and stood beside him against his own brother and all he had been given was an empty title. Now Warwick had landed in England.

Edward was completely shocked when news came to him that Montague had rallied his men and called for Henry and that he was now marching to join Warwick. Edward was deserted and in the direst danger.

He was dining with his brother Richard, Hastings and Rivers when a messenger came galloping hot speed from Montague’s camp.

‘My lord, my lord,’ he cried. ‘Lord Montague has turned against you. He is already on the march. There is not a moment to lose. He is calling for King Henry and his brother and his army are with him. He is coming here to capture you and take you a prisoner to the Earl of Warwick.’

So Warwick was marching from the South and Montague, the traitor who had suddenly decided to change sides, was coming from the North. If he remained here he would be caught in a pincer movement between the two of them.

Richard was looking at him waiting for his orders. The dear boy would do everything he asked of him.

‘There is only one thing we can do,’ he said. ‘We have to escape. Come. Every second is precious. Rally the men. We must get to the coast. We’ll make our way to my sister of Burgundy. But first ... to the sea.’

Richard was wondering whether they should stay and fight.

‘A handful of us against an army!’ cried Edward. ‘There can be no more than eight hundred of us. No, brother, all the courage in the world – and I know you have that – would avail us nothing. We will go ... for the time. But it is only a breathing space. We shall be back. Then woe to Warwick.’

They were fortunate. They reached Lynn in safety and in a short while were on their way to Holland.


Elizabeth was preparing for the birth of her fourth child by Edward. She was certain this time it would be the longed-for boy. She must be grateful that she could bear children so easily and so quickly following one on another; it was a great asset in a Queen.

She had decided that the Tower would be a good place for the birth and she had had an apartment made ready there for her lying-in. It was very elaborate with crimson damask and fine Brittany linen – a room worthy of the King’s son.

Mrs Cobbe, the midwife who had attended her before and on whose skill she felt she could rely, was in attendance already. There were a few weeks to go, but one could never be sure with babies. Jacquetta had agreed with her that every precaution should be taken. Edward was in the North and she hoped that she would soon be sending joyful news to him.

There was something strange going on in the streets. She had been aware of it all day. She had gone to the window and seen them on the other side of the river gathering in crowds. The people were getting excited.

She wondered what was happening. Was Edward returning unexpectedly? He always liked to be close when his children were born.

Elizabeth was serenely content. She had still kept her hold on Edward after nearly six years of marriage; he was as devoted and as loving as ever; it was true he had his mistresses, but as that gave her a little respite from the indefatigable man she should perhaps rejoice rather than lament. She could say that she held his affections; he found in her an ideal wife. No recriminations; acceptance of his need for mistresses; agreeing with him and only asserting herself in matters which were of the utmost importance to her and which would not greatly affect him. If he knew she meddled as she had done in the marriages of her family and the case of Lord Desmond, he said nothing. She allowed him his amatory adventures and that meant a great deal to him. Of course he would not have discontinued them however much she protested but he was above all a man who liked to live in peace and that was what she allowed him to do.

Moreover she gave him children – girls so far but the boys would come.

And this by the way she carried him, so said Mrs Cobbe, was a boy; and Mrs Cobbe would not deceive her just to please her for a while. That was not Mrs Cobbe’s nature.

Her mother came into the apartment and it was immediately clear that Jacquetta was disturbed.

‘There is a great murmuring going on in the streets.’

‘What is wrong with them now?’

‘There are rumours that Warwick has landed.’

‘Warwick? He was driven out.’

‘That does not prevent his coming back. They say he has landed and is bringing an army with him.’

‘That’s impossible.’

‘No, I’m afraid not. I have kept the news from you for the last few days because I thought it was not good for you to worry in your condition. But it is getting serious now. Do you know what they are saying? Warwick has joined with Margaret of Anjou and their purpose is to put Henry back on the throne.’

‘What!’ cried Elizabeth, her face losing its delicate colour.

‘My dear, you must not distress yourself, but I think it is time we took some action.’

‘Where is Warwick now?’

‘They say he is on the way to London. They are expecting him.’

‘Warwick ... on his way here! Then what will become of us ... ?’

‘I think we are unsafe here.’

‘They would not dare to harm us ... Edward will soon be here.’

‘My dear daughter, I know you will be calm. The news is worse than I have told you. Edward has fled the country. Montague has deserted and Edward with Richard, Hastings and Anthony got away from Lynn by boat. They have gone to somewhere on the Continent.’

‘I can’t believe it. We were so ... safe.’

‘Life changes. But what are we going to do? If you stay here you will be Warwick’s prisoner.’

‘And when you consider what he did to our father and John ... I could kill him, for what he did to them.’

‘I too,’ said Jacquetta quietly. ‘But we have to think of ourselves now; it is a matter of safety not revenge ... just yet. Edward will come back, I know. But in the meantime we have to think of what would be best for us to do.’

The Queen looked round the apartment which she had so carefully prepared. There was the new feather bed – quite the most luxurious she had ever seen – and she must leave all this and go ... but where?

‘We should get out of London perhaps,’ she said.

‘In your condition! And with the little girls. Nay, I have an idea. We will go to Westminster ... to the Sanctuary. He will not dare to touch us there.’

Elizabeth was silent for a while. Her mother was right. They had to get away from Warwick and quickly.

‘Then,’ she said, ‘... to the Sanctuary. Send for Mrs Cobbe and tell her that we must go.’

Mrs Cobbe who was never far away came running in with a dismayed look on her honest face for she immediately thought that the Queen had started her pains.

She was relieved to see that this was not so for it was a few weeks too early but when she heard about the plans for flight she was very disturbed.

‘The Queen is in no condition ...’ she began.

‘The Queen is in no condition to be Warwick’s prisoner, Mrs Cobbe. We have to go. There is no help for it. But not far. We shall go to Westminster to the Sanctuary.’

‘Then we must go carefully,’ said Mrs Cobbe. ‘We want no early birth for this one. He’s going to be a boy, that he is.’

Mrs Cobbe gathered together all she thought they could take with them and Elizabeth with Jacquetta and Lady Scrope, who was in attendance, Mrs Cobbe and the three little girls made their way out of the Tower to the water’s edge.

Mrs Cobbe lifted little Cecily into the waiting barge and Lady Scrope helped Elizabeth and Mary while Jacquetta gave her attention to her daughter.

The barge started up the river to Westminster.

‘I pray we shall be in time,’ said Lady Scrope.

They had reached the tall square keep beside St Margaret’s church near the graveyard and west door of the Abbey.