Clarence must die for the Prince’s sake. Elizabeth wanted that. But then Elizabeth was sly and cunning. She had her own reasons for wanting Clarence out of the way. He was the self-confessed enemy of the Woodvilles, and the Woodvilles were sacred in Elizabeth’s estimation.
If Clarence would only repent. He had talked of the matter with Richard who was in the South for the Mowbray wedding. Richard said that he could not kill Clarence.
‘He is our brother. You would never forgive yourself.’
‘And the alternative, Richard?’
‘You can keep him in check.’
‘Can I? If he raised an army against me I could defeat him, yes. It is these sly rumours. He now says I am a bastard. What think you of that? What an insult to our mother! He should lose his head for that alone.’
‘He should,’ agreed Richard. ‘But you cannot kill him, Edward. It would haunt you for life.’
‘Not if I could convince myself that it is the only way.’
Richard said: ‘Go to the Tower, Edward. Talk to him. Try to make him see reason.’
‘Would you go?’
‘He would not listen to me. He has never forgiven me for marrying Anne. No. But you mayhap could strike fear into him for I believe that is the only way to get him to act reasonably.’
‘I will go to him,’ said Edward. ‘I will try to make him see reason. I will make him see what the consequences will be if he does not.’
‘It is the best way,’ said Richard.
Edward made his way to the Bowyer Tower. They were just taking in a vast butt of malmsey.
He stopped the men and asked where they were taking it.
‘To the Duke of Clarence, my lord,’ he was told.
‘Someone is going to have a drinking party, I should think. There is enough there to last one man a year.’
‘My lord, not the Duke of Clarence. He is very partial to the stuff.’
‘So, for my brother,’ said the King, and he went his way.
Clarence looked sullenly at Edward.
‘So my lord King has taken to visiting the poor prisoner,’ he said.
‘George, I have come to talk to you.’
‘I am overcome by the honour.’
‘Listen, you know you are in danger of losing your life.’
‘I know that you have condemned me to death.’
‘Not I. The parliament.’
‘At your command. You are afraid of me, Edward. That is why you want to get me out of the way.’
‘If I had been afraid of you I could, as you put it, have got you out of the way long ago. I will not hesitate to tell you that many people to whom I should have been wise to listen would have done just that.’
‘I know. You have your cronies. You have the Woodville clan whom you have created, brother. You have made them the great family of England and all because you wanted the widow.’
‘I ask you not to speak of the Queen.’
‘Indeed not. Holy Elizabeth! Clever Elizabeth! A witch if ever there was one.’
‘I have not come here to talk nonsense, George. I have come to give you one last chance. Stop this foolishness. Be my good brother as you were once when we were young. That’s all I ask. Do this and you shall be free. But I warn you, George, that if, after you are forgiven, I find you out in one treasonable act the death sentence shall be carried out without further trial.’
‘Oh magnanimous brother, beloved of his people! The handsomest man in the kingdom ... in the world some say. A little worse for wear just now, eh. Too many nights of love, too much romping with the ladies of the town. Have you had any attacks of the fever lately, Edward? That is what we call it is it not? You should be more careful of some of those town women, brother. You see after every fresh bout you are just a little less splendid.’
‘Be silent,’ said Edward. ‘I can see that you are completely unrepentant.’
‘What have I to repent of? Being the legitimate son of my father?’
‘That is unforgivable ... a slander on our mother.’
‘You know our mother, Edward. She is a woman of strong character. Do you think she was always faithful to our wandering father? He was scarcely at home. It would have been surprising if she had not given birth to a son who was not sired on her by the Duke of York.’
‘You know you lie. George, you deserve everything that has come to you.’
‘And you, brother, do not? The crown should have been mine ... mine ... But you, bastard that you are, took it from me.’
‘You are quite mad,’ said Edward. ‘I see I waste my time in talking to you. Stay here then ... suffer your full deserts. I will try no more to help you.’
George closed his eyes. He was feeling somewhat muddled. He had finished the last of the malmsey before he had sent for the new butt. There had been more to finish than he had realised and he was slightly intoxicated. Heavy drinker that he was he was capable of taking a good deal of wine without its having any effect on him but he seemed to have taken more than usual and the effect was to dull his senses.
Edward was offering him freedom if he would swear to be a good brother in future. Had he been stark sober doubtless he would have accepted the offer. Not that he would have kept his side of the bargain. George was not burdened with a sense of honour. But he would have been free and able to work out his plan.
There was one thing he had discovered ... only a few hours before his arrest, and he had been pondering on it during the whole period of his incarceration. It was the most important bit of luck which had ever come his way.
He had kept it to himself wondering when would be the best time and place to use it.
Now in his muddled state, to see Edward standing there, so big and strong and with all the advantages which he had always had, he could not contain that valuable piece of information to himself any longer. He wanted to see how Edward would receive it.
He stood up unsteadily.
‘You ...’ he pointed to Edward, ‘Edward ... have no right to the throne ... Bastard.’
‘Be silent! If you say that again I will kill you with my own hands.’
‘I’ll say this,’ cried Clarence. ‘Your son whom you call the Prince of Wales has no right to the throne. And why not? ‘I’ll tell you. It’s because Elizabeth Woodville is your mistress ... not your wife ... not the Queen ... She’s another such as Jane Shore and the rest of your merry band of women. The Queen’s just one of them ... Your children are bastards ... The Prince of Wales is a little bastard. The Duke of York ...’
Edward had strode to his brother and had him by the shoulders.
Clarence laughed. ‘Shake me. Kill me if you will. You’re strong enough, are you not? The great King ... the mighty King ... and what when the people know that your marriage to the Woodville witch was no true marriage, eh?’
‘It was a true marriage. You utter treason. By God, George ...’
‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Do you remember the name of Eleanor Butler ... Shrewsbury’s girl ... ? Do you remember that betrothal? She was alive when you went through a form of marriage with the Woodville ... so that makes proud Queen Elizabeth just another of your women and the little Princes ... oh and proud Madame le Dauphine ... bastards ... bastards all of them.’
Edward had turned pale. If he had been less drunk Clarence would have seen his pallor beneath the ruddy weather tan.
‘Edward,’ went on Clarence, ‘I have seen Bishop Stillington ... Just before I was arrested. Too late to act then. But I’m clever ... I keep the information locked in here ...’ He patted his chest. ‘I know all about it. Bastards ... because you had a previous contract with Eleanor Butler and she was alive in her convent when you went through a form of marriage with the Woodville.’
Edward pushed his brother back onto his pallet. He was glad he was drunk for he himself was more shaken than he wished him to see.
He turned away and went through the door. He did not notice the guards outside. He walked straight out of the Bowyer Tower and mounting his horse rode along by the river.
His mind went back years. He could see Eleanor now. She had seemed very beautiful ... rather like Elizabeth and of the same proud nature. The daughter of the old Earl of Shrewsbury. They had met and he had desired her as desperately as later he had desired Elizabeth. There were many women, there always had been, but here and there would appear one who was completely irresistible and he must pay the price for her whatever it was. So with Eleanor; so with Elizabeth.
Eleanor had gone into a convent afterwards. He thought he would never hear more of her ... and he had married Elizabeth.
There was no longer any uncertainty. His mind was made up now. George Duke of Clarence had signed his own death warrant.
He was to be executed but the King did not want a public execution. Let him be killed in his prison and let it seem as if it had come about by accident. The Duke had been drinking heavily ... more so than he usually did since his entry into the Tower. It would not be difficult for some accident to befall him.
The next morning Clarence was found dead. He was hanging over the butt of malmsey which had been brought to the cell the day before.
The news spread. The Duke of Clarence had been drowned in a butt of malmsey.
That very day another arrest was made and Bishop Stillington was lodged in the Tower.
No sooner was Clarence dead than Edward was filled with remorse. He could not shut out of his mind memories of their early days when he had strutted through the nurseries and his brothers had looked at him as though he were the perfect specimen of manhood. He had been devoted to them; he had visited them when they were in London, always making time to sit with them and to answer their questions; he had loved his family, and it was he who had given the order for George’s death.
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