We came south, attracting as little attention as possible, and stayed at various castles on the way with friends of my father, of course. He and the men always shut themselves away and talked with great seriousness.
In due course we crossed the Channel, which to our relief was less turbulent than it might have been, and we arrived not too battered at Calais. I had been there before, when I was very young, and what I remembered most from those days was the lighthouse, Tour de Guet, which I saw as we approached the land.
There was a welcome for us at Calais. My father, as captain of the place, was no stranger to the people, for although it was wellfortified for it was known as the Gateway to the Continent and was of the utmost importance to England the people were a little uneasy as to what would happen to them if the French decided to invade. Sieges were some of the most distressing aspects of war: so the fact that that he mighty Earl of Warwick had arrived to check the defences reassured them.
We were lodged in the castle and the first matter to demand everyone's attention was the wedding of Isabel to the Duke of Clarence.
A .thread of misgiving ran through all these preparations. Young as I was, I was aware of it. I thought a great deal about Richard during those days and memories of our friendship saddened me. I knew that the difference between the king and my father were growing more serious with the passing of every week. I would have to be on my father's side and Richard on that of Edward. So we would be enemies. Such situations do arise between friends in the event of civil war.
I tried to share in Isabel's excitement. This was her wedding and she was marrying the man she loved which was rare for girls in our position so it was really a matter for rejoicing in many ways. But there were sinister undertones and Isabel, in her exuberance, threw a little light on what was in my father's mind.
She chattered a great deal about her wedding dress and the entertainments which would follow the ceremony.
"As soon as it has been performed." she said, "I shall Duchess of Clarence ... wife of the king's brother!"
"I do hope it will be all right, Isabel," I said.
"Of course it will be all right."
"You had to come a long way to get married." She laughed.
"It was a great adventure, was it not? I'll tell you something. I shall be more than the wife of the king's brother."
"How can you be?"
She smiled at me, then pursed her lips as though she were holding in a secret. I feigned indifference which I knew from experience was the quickest way to get her to tell me.
"I could be Queen of England."
"And I could be the Angel Gabriel."
"Don't blaspheme!" she said severely, which amused me, coming from her.
I be the I still pretended not to be particularly interested and she burst out: "It could seem that Edward is not the rightful king after all."
"What do you mean? He is the eldest son of the Duke of York and York's claim to the throne is ..."
"I know, I know. That's what people think." She came close to me and whispered: "Some are saying that Edward is not the legitimate son of the Duke of York."
"But his mother is ... the Duchess ..."
"Women do not always give birth to their husband's children."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, they are saying that the duke was away fighting and so the duchess had ... friends. Well, one of these was Edward's father."
I gasped in disbelief.
"It cannot be," I stammered.
"What do you mean: it cannot be! What do you know about it? It can be ... and it is," The Duchess of York. She ... she's quite regal. They call her Proud Cis because her name is Cecily. She is our father's aunt."
"What has that to do with it? I tell you it is so, Edward is not the duke's son. Therefore he has no claim to the throne ... and George is the real king."
"What does our father say?"
"He thinks George should be king."
I stared at her. I simply did not believe this. It was some story George had invented in the hope of putting himself on the throne.
"How can you be sure?" I demanded.
"Proud Cis herself said so."
"When...?"
"When Edward married the Woodville woman. She was so angry because he had demeaned himself. Then she said: "It does not surprise me. You are not king. You were not the son of your father."
"Why haven't we heard this before?"
"Because it was hushed up."
"Then why bring it up now?"
"Well, these things come out. You cannot be sure when."
"It's absolute nonsense. No one will believe that of the Duchess of York."
"Of course they'll believe it. The duke was often away fighting somewhere. You don't understand these things. Older people will."
"I do not think anyone will believe it except those who want to." I felt very shaken. I knew it was a conspiracy and my father was involved in it.
A few days later my Uncle George, Archbishop of York, performed the ceremony of marriage and my sister Isabel became the Duchess of Clarence.
My mother was growing increasingly alarmed. I wished she would talk to me. Isabel was a blissful bride; and as for Clarence, he gave himself such airs that he might have been already the king. I began to dislike him more and more. He was handsome, it was true, and had a certain ease of manner. He had charm like his brother Edward, but there was something good about Edward. He might be self-indulgent, sexually insatiable as they said, but there was an innate kindness of which I detected no trace in Clarence. Richard was entirely different from either of them. But then he was unique. There was no one like Richard.
The situation was growing dangerous. An attempt to depose a king and set another up in his place would surely mean civil war. There was already one in progress between the Houses of York and Lancaster, and although there were intermittent periods of peace, the conflict rose from time to time and was always hovering over the country. But this would be a new situation. My father was hesitating. He was too wily to plunge headlong into that which I was sure Clarence was longing for. He was obsessed by the notion of snatching his brother's crown and placing it on his own jaunty head. Did my father think that he would be able to guide Clarence? The king's marriage had shown him that he could no longer control Edward. But would Clarence prove any easier?
I tried to talk to my mother about it. I felt so much in the dark.
I said to her one day: "Does the king know that his brother has married Isabel?"
"I believe he must know by now."
"My lady, what will he do... what will he say?"
"I wish I knew."
"Shall we go back?"
"We must wait and see."
"And will the king be very angry with my father?"
"Your father has been very angry with the king for some time."
"Will they ... go to war against each other?"
"I hope not ... I pray not." She set aside her dignity then and drew me against her, holding me tightly.
"I do not know what will become of us, my child," she said.
There was disquieting news from England where there was trouble in the north. It was known that there was increasing discord between the king and the Earl of Warwick. The north was for Warwick and there were always people spoiling for a fight.
I have often wondered why men are so eager to go to war which frequently results in hardship and misery to so many. Can it be because their lives are so dull and war provided excitement? And for the rough soldiery there is, of course, the prospect of looting and gain.
However, there were some men in the north who could not wait and, no doubt believing that they would have the support of the Earl of Warwick, decided to start without him. First there was Robin of Holderness. That was not his real name but leaders of risings were apt to call themselves Robin. It was derived from Robin Hood and there was the implication that the object was to take from the rich to help the poor. So as this rebel came from Holderness, he was called Robin of that place.