It was different with my mother. I believe she was very satisfied with her two daughters, as is often the way with mothers who come to believe that the offspring they have are just what they wanted. At least my father could not have been disappointed in his marriage, for through my mother had come the greater part of his wealth; she had been Anne Beauchamp, heiress to vast lands and fortune, and she had brought him the earldom of Warwick.
She lavished great care on Isabel and me, which was necessary, I suppose, because neither of us was robust. The three of us were very happy together, whether we were at Middleham Castle, Warwick Castle, Cawood, or Warwick Court in London.
We saw our father infrequently, but when he did come the atmosphere changed completely. Bustle, excitement, apprehension prevailed. Men wearing the emblem of the Ragged Staff were everywhere, and, of course, there was my father's dominating presence. He took some interest in us girls, which was surprising. I sometimes thought he might have been a family man if he had not been so ambitious to rule the country, through the king of his making. My childhood memories are of comings and goings, some of which affected us and then we could be off to other family residences at a moment's notice.
Isabel was my senior by nearly five years and she often tried to explain to me what was going on, but when she herself did not understand she refused to admit it and relied on her invention. When my father departed with his followers, we would be at peace again.
Of all our homes I loved Middleham best. It was situated in the heart of wild and open country in the North Riding of Yorkshire -and it will always be home to me.
It was at Middleham Castle that I first met Richard of Gloucester, when he was sent to my father to learn the arts of war and chivalry; and it was there that the bonds of something deeper than friendship were forged between us.
I was five years old when a momentous event occurred. Isabel, then ten, told me about it.
"There is a new king on the throne." she said.
"It is all because of the War of the Roses. The White Rose is for York ... that is the good one. That's us. Then there is the Red Rose of Lancaster. That is the wicked one for silly old Henry and his horrible Queen Margaret. They are not King and Queen any more because our father does not like them. So he has made our cousin Edward king and he is now called Edward the Fourth."
"Does our father say who is to be king then?" I asked.
"Of course. He is the Kingmaker. Wicked Queen Margaret killed King Edward's father at Wakefield. She cut off his head and put a paper crown on it to mock him because he had wanted to be king instead of silly Henry, and she stuck his head on the walls of York. Our father was very cross about it and he would not let her be queen any more Edward is king instead."
This was in a way a version of what had happened at Wakefield, for the battle had been a decisive one in the War of the Roses. Edward, however, had not such a strong claim to the throne as Henry, who was the son of King Henry the Fifth and therefore in the direct line: but Edward's father was descended from King Edward the Third through both his father and mother through Lionel, Duke of Clarence, who was the old king's second son and Edmund, Duke of York, who was his fifth. Richard told me all this during one of our talks when I was a little older.
Most people, except those absolutely dedicated to the cause of Lancaster, must have thought it preferable to have a king like Edward than one such as Henry. Edward was young, strong and outstandingly handsome he was a giant among men and a king the people could admire and be proud of.
He was also Richard's brother and because of the deep bonds of friendship between King Edward and the man who had put him on the throne my father it was decided that Richard should be sent to Middleham to be brought up under the guidance of the Earl of Warwick. Thus it was we met.
I remember the first time I saw him. He was sitting alone and despondent. He was very pale; he looked tired and was staring rather gloomily straight ahead.
I said: "Hello. I know who you are. You are the king's brother."
He turned to look at me. I could see that he was not very pleased by the intrusion and was wishing that I would go away.
"Yes," he answered. I am, and you are the earl's daughter the younger one."
"How long are you going to live with us?"
"Until I have learned all that I have to learn."
"There are always people here learning what my father can teach them."
He nodded.
"I know Francis Lovell and Robert Percy," I said.
"Do you?"
"Yes. I know them." "Sometimes I watch you all riding in the mock tournaments. There must be a lot to learn."
There is a great deal to learn."
"It must make you very tired."
"I am not tired." he said firmly.
I knew he was, so I said nothing and we were silent, he staring ahead, I think, willing me to go away.
I watched him, thinking of his father's head being cut off and stuck on the walls of York City.
He stood up suddenly and said: "I have to go. Goodbye."
"Goodbye," I said; and he went away.
After that I was more interested in the boys who came to be brought up at Middleham. They were all highly born, of course, and they were made to work very hard and continually. It was necessary, Isabel told me, because they had to become knights and fight in the war and there were always wars, so there had to be men trained to fight in them. These boys who were learning would all have to go to war and probably have their heads cut off and stuck up somewhere.
The boys lived like the soldiers my father always had with him wherever he went. They slept together and ate together; and there was a comptroller of the household whom they must obey. They had so much to learn; not only must they be proficient in the arts of war but they had to learn how to behave in the presence of ladies, so there were times when they came to the solarium or the great hall where we were assembled at that time to converse with my mother, Isabel and myself. They might play chess, or some musical instrument or dance.
I would look for the small dark boy who, I believed, preferred even the strenuous exercises of the fields and moors to those social occasions. It was different with Francis Lovell. He was very good-looking and merry, so Isabel usually made sure that she talked to him. I did not feel in the least envious. I had a great desire to learn more about Richard.
My mother smiled to see us together.
"He is a strange boy," she said.
"He is not easy to know. But at least he is the king's brother."
I said I thought Richard did not really want to talk to anyone.
"No," she said.
"That's true. But I think if he has to talk to someone he would rather it were you."
I felt a surge of pleasure at that until Isabel told me that it was because I was the youngest and did not count for much.
Poor Richard! He was often very tired. When I saw him coming in wearing his heavy armour, I was very sorry for him. He was different from the other boys; they had more sturdy bodies. Richard never complained; he would have fiercely denied his fatigue, but I noticed it, and I liked him the more because of his stoical attitude.
I knew by that time that he wanted to be strong and learn everything that would make him of use to the brother whom he adored. It was a hard life these boys were expected to live. I supposed it was necessary if they were to be prepared for arduous battle; but perhaps now that we had the wonderful Edward on the throne he would keep the peace. But of course they must always be prepared.
Sometimes, if the exercises were taking place in the castle grounds, we would watch. We saw the mock battles when the boys fought each other in the field with swords or even battle axes; sometimes they rode out in heavy armour for some exercise on the moors. It was all part of the training. And when they came back they must clean themselves, take supper, and in the early evening join the ladies for conversation, singing or dancing.