Well, it worked very happily for Edward. He loved to hear of the perfections of his maternal ancestors. He scarcely knew those of his father, although Anthony said that now that he was coming into his teens he supposed his father would wish him to go to Court now and then.

‘I don’t want to,’ said Edward. ‘I like it here with us all. We are all so happy together.’

‘It gives me great pleasure to hear you say that,’ replied his uncle. ‘It is what I have always striven for.’

There were his sisters the Princesses and his brother Richard. He liked Richard and his sisters, but he did not see them very often. He had to be kept apart in his own household. He knew why. Anthony had explained. It was because he was the most important member of the family; the heir to the throne.

He had scarcely known his uncles on his father’s side. Anthony had told him something of them, of his wicked uncle Clarence for instance who had taken arms against the King and had come to a violent death – drowned, they told him, in a butt of malmsey. Edward could hardly imagine what that was like. He was overcome having already drunk too much of the stuff, his uncle told him, and then he toppled in. That was the end of him. It was a Good Thing.

There were certain events which were Good Things and they were the things that the Woodvilles wanted or caused to happen. Then there were Bad Things which were brought about by the enemies of the Woodvilles.

There was his uncle Richard. He did not know what to think of him. He was cold and stern and he had a son named Edward too, and a wife whom they always called Poor Anne. There was nothing very attractive about Stern Richard and Poor Anne. Moreover although his uncle Anthony did not say anything very revealing about him Edward sensed that he did not like him much. Therefore Edward was not going to either.

So he awoke that day with no premonition of the great change which was about to burst on him. He had heard of his father’s seizure for he had noticed that Anthony was a little perturbed and when he asked him why Anthony told him that his father had been taken ill.

That had been hard to imagine. That great big splendid man suffering from the ailments which beset ordinary mortals had seemed impossible.

It was not impossible, said Anthony, his brow furrowed. Men like his father who lived ... Anthony had sought a word and found ‘luxuriously’, often had what was called seizures. They lived so fully that they used up as much energy in half a lifetime as some did in the whole of one. Did Edward understand?

Edward did.

‘Has he used up all his energy then?’ he asked.

‘Oh no ... no. It’s just a warning of what could happen.’

The King recovered. At Christmas Edward had seen him looking even larger and grander than ever. He had talked to Edward and told him to obey the rules of his household and grow up quickly. He had pointed out that heirs to the throne had to learn more quickly than others.

He did his best, Edward explained, and he would try.

‘Well, my son,’ said the King ruffling his hair, ‘you can do no more than that, now can you?’

The King had danced with Edward’s sister Elizabeth and everyone had applauded and Edward had forgotten all about the King’s seizure. Uncle Anthony seemed to have forgotten also for he did not refer to it again.

It was time to rise and his chaplain and chamberlain came in. He must dress at once and go with them to his chapel there to hear Mass. His father had laid down strict rules for his household and one of these was that he must not hear Mass in his chamber unless there was a good reason for his doing so – which, thought Edward, means if I were dying.

After Mass there was breakfast and lessons in between that and dinner. On his father’s orders this was a fairly ceremonial occasion; those who carried his dishes to the table were specially chosen and they must be in his livery. No one was allowed to sit at table with him unless his uncle had given his approval that they were worthy to do so. After dinner there were more lessons followed by exercises during which he must learn to carry arms and fence and joust as became his rank. There followed supper and bed. And so, enlivened by the bright conversation of his Woodville relations, surrounded by their affection and very often their flattery, the days had slipped by very pleasantly and with the passing of each one he was more and more convinced by the charm, the grace and the utter wisdom of the Woodvilles.

A week before his half-brother, Richard Grey, had gone to London. There was a certain amount of whispering going on in the household, Edward noticed. He asked Anthony about it and his uncle replied that it was nothing. People were always whispering together and making dramas out of nothing or very little.

But Uncle Anthony was a little different, perhaps even a shade more affectionate.

He forgot it. There was so much to do during the days. He wondered if his brother Richard was as good a horseman as he was. He would ask Lord Lyle if he knew.

His uncle Anthony came hurrying to him when he returned from the stables with Lord Lyle and he did a strange thing. He knelt down and kissed Edward’s hand.

Bewildered as he was Edward had a faint inkling of what had happened then because loving as his uncle had always been he had never shown that much respect before.

‘Uncle ...’ he began.

But Uncle Anthony cried: ‘Long live the King!’

‘My father ...’ stammered Edward.

His uncle had risen. He had put his arms about him and held him in a firm embrace.

‘Edward, my dear dear nephew, my King, your father is dead.’

‘My father ... dead!’

‘Yes, dear nephew, my lord. He has been ailing this last week and now he has gone. It is a terrible blow for us all ... for the country. But thank God we have a new King and I know he will rule wisely and well.’

‘You mean ... that I will?’

‘You are our true and lawful King Edward the Fifth. We knew the day would come but we had not thought it would be so soon.’

Edward was overwhelmed. King! A boy of thirteen who had been living quietly in Ludlow Castle until this day! Everything would be different now. He had come to it not gradually but at one big blow. And his father was dead ... that big splendid man! It was hard to believe. And his mother, what of his mother?

Anthony put an arm about his shoulders. ‘You have nothing to fear,’ he said. ‘I shall be there beside you.’

‘You will tell me what to do?’

‘Indeed I will, my little King.’

‘Then all will be well.’

His uncle took his hand and kissed it.

‘Now we have to prepare to leave at once. We are going to Westminster where you will be crowned.’


The Queen was deeply disturbed for she realised the danger of the situation and the need for prompt action.

It would have been impossible not to be aware of the immense unpopularity of her family. The King had always been there to protect them and in a manner curb their wildest ambitions. Now that he was no longer there she knew their enemies would rise up against them. Thank God, through her foresight she had put her family into high posts. They were rich and influential as no other family was. They could therefore stand firm, and after the coronation of young Edward rule ... if they were clever, rule absolutely, because her son would be so much easier to guide than her husband had been. Indulgent he had certainly been but he had always kept her ambitions firmly in check, and she had always felt that she had been on a leading-rein and although in his indulgence he had made it fairly long, she would be quickly jerked back if she went too far. Now, if she were careful, there would be nothing to hold her.

She was closest in touch with her son, the Marquess of Dorset. He was now in his early thirties; he had been a great favourite of the King – partly because he had been his companion in vice. His chief companion perhaps. No, Hastings had held that place, but in any case Thomas had been a close runner-up.

As a wife she thought that deplorable, as an ambitious woman with a son through whom she now planned to govern, it was advantageous.

She sent for Dorset. He came with all speed realising the urgency of the situation.

‘What we must do,’ she said, ‘is get the Council with us. I expect trouble from Hastings. A pity we could not exclude him but I fear he was too firmly entrenched. We have the family well represented. We should watch Stanley. I think he will go to whichever side offers the best advantage to himself. We must make sure we do.’

‘What of Gloucester?’

‘He is in the North. On the Scottish border. Far far away. We must wait until the King is crowned before we allow him to be aware of what has happened.’

‘It would be better so as Edward named him as the King’s Protector.’

‘The King already has his protectors and once a king is anointed and crowned, he is accepted as king.’

‘I fear Gloucester.’

‘I will deal with Gloucester,’ said the Queen. ‘Our first act must be to get the King crowned. Let us call a Council meeting in the new King’s name. We will show ourselves amenable and carry on as though the King was alive and then we will bring up the important matter of the King’s coronation as though it were a matter of course.’

Dorset was certain that his mother would succeed. After all, had she not succeeded in everything she did; and surely only the cleverest of women could have kept a man like Edward as long as she did.

The Council was called and all went as planned until the matter of the King’s coronation was brought up.