A law had been made forbidding that anyone set up horoscopes of any members of the royal family without first asking the King’s permission, and Dr John Stacey was arrested for having done this and he was conducted to the Tower.
The King gave orders that he was to be questioned and if he refused to betray his clients he should be requested to do so with a lack of gentleness. Edward awaited the outcome with a great longing in his heart that nothing should be proved against his brother.
However the rigorous questioning brought forth an interesting piece of information. Stacey had been asked for the horoscopes by a certain Thomas Burdett, and Thomas Burdett happened to be a member of Clarence’s household.
So the King had discovered what he had suspected and hoped not to find. Clarence was eagerly awaiting his death and he knew his brother too well not to guess that if it did not come quickly he would grow so impatient that he would attempt to assist nature.
Edward was in a dilemma. He must show Clarence where this foolish careless plotting was leading him. He had overlooked the Ankarette Twynhoe affair although he knew that he should not have done so. He longed for Clarence to act in a brotherly way towards him, to be like Richard, to help him, not to threaten him as he was constantly doing.
Elizabeth was very uneasy. Edward had come back from France with Louis’s pension and what pleased Elizabeth more than anything, the promise of the Dauphin for her eldest daughter. Making grand marriages for her family had always been her delight, now with the daughter of a King there was no end to her ambitions. She had announced that in future young Elizabeth should be known as Madame le Dauphine. But the death of Ankarette Twynhoe had upset her a great deal. Not only because she had known and liked the woman but because of what it meant. Clarence was her enemy and, because of his rank, a deadly one. He was a fool, she knew, but he was powerful; and men such as he was would always find those to follow him.
Stories came to her ears of rumours that were circulating, and she knew they were set about through Clarence and those who served him. One which disturbed her deeply was the story that Edward was a bastard. He was, according to this particular account, the son of an archer of great height and exceptional good looks who had charmed the Duchess of York during one of the Duke’s many absences. The story was ridiculous, of course. Anyone who had ever known Proud Cis would see how ridiculous it was to accuse her of taking an archer lover; moreover if any member of the family had the Plantagenet looks it was Edward; he was very like Edward Longshanks only considerably more handsome. No, it was a ridiculous story and would be discounted by most people as the jealous fabrication of an ambitious brother who was so eager to get his hands on the crown that he was ready to think up the wildest tales. All the same, it was dangerous, and an indication of the way Clarence was moving.
It was against Elizabeth’s principles to talk of state matters with her husband and her persuasions had always been of the most subtle kind, but she was really frightened now. It occurred to her that if anything happened to Edward, her little son would be in a very dangerous position indeed. Clarence must be removed.
The King noticed her depression and asked what ailed her. She burst out that she was tortured by anxieties. She feared for their children and in particular for the Prince of Wales.
‘It’s Clarence,’ she said. ‘Oh Edward, he is your enemy. You know he is saying you are not your father’s son. That means that you have no right to the throne.’
‘Nobody takes any notice of Clarence’s drivellings.’
‘A jury did and that cost an innocent woman her life.’
Edward was silent, and Elizabeth caught his hand and lifted her fearful eyes to his face.
‘I am frightened for our little Edward. He is so young.’
‘No harm shall come to him. I shall see to that. Nor to any of the children. The country is with me, Elizabeth, as firmly as it ever has been beside any king. Clarence has his followers it is true, but they are nothing compared with those who would support me.’
‘I know ... I know. But he is dangerous, Edward. And I think of the children ... and of you too. I fear for us all.’
Edward was thoughtful. He said: ‘Something must be done. Something shall be done.’
Edward began by sending Dr John Stacey and Thomas Burdett with Thomas Blake, a chaplain at Stacey’s college, for trial. They were found guilty of practising magic arts for sinister purposes, and condemned to be hanged at Tyburn. As was usual in these cases the sentence was to be carried out immediately. However, the Bishop of Norwich interceded for Blake, who he said was involved simply because of his association with Stacey’s college and it had not been proved that he was actually aware of what was taking place.
Blake was pardoned. The other two, protesting their innocence to the last, were hanged. It was clear from what had happened and the fact that Burdett was a member of Clarence’s household that the King meant to teach his brother a lesson. Edward suspected the source of the rumours which were circulating about him. If Clarence thought that after having been forgiven once he would be so again he would be mistaken. Edward’s feelings towards him were hardening every day.
Edward went to Windsor after the trial. Clarence stayed in London and he took advantage of Edward’s absence to seek out a preacher, one Dr John Goddard, to force his way into a council meeting at Westminster to read the declarations of innocence made by Stacey and Burdett before their deaths.
This was a wild and reckless act, for John Goddard was the Franciscan who had declared Henry the Sixth to be the true King in 1470 when Warwick with Clarence had come to oust Edward from the throne.
After the protestations had been read before an astonished council Clarence then began gathering men about him; he declared that not only was the King a bastard but that he practised black arts and was planning to poison him, his brother Clarence, because he knew too much. He went to Cambridgeshire and declaimed in the market-square that the King had no right to the throne and if men would rally to him they would soon have the true King on the throne and the imposter replaced.
The people listened open-mouthed. Why should they rise against a king who had brought the country to a state of prosperity which it had not enjoyed for a very long time. It was exciting to listen to Clarence; a few hotheads joined him; but even they did not stay.
Meanwhile Edward in Windsor received news of what was happening. He returned to London and summoned Parliament for the purpose of bringing charges of high treason against his brother.
The King spoke with eloquence and sadness. They would all remember that he had been notoriously generous to his enemies even those who were guilty of heinous treason. His clemency had not been well rewarded. Now a much more malicious and unnatural treason was conspiring against him.
‘My own brother’s hand is against me. He, above all others, owes me love and loyalty. I have rewarded him most generously, with grants, goods and possessions, yet he plots to destroy me and my family. He has urged his servants round the country to tell the people that Burdett had been unjustly executed; he declared that I am a bastard; he holds in his possession an agreement made in the year 1470 which stated that if Henry the Sixth died without heirs he should be the next in the line of succession. My lords,’ went on the King, ‘you see the dilemma in which I am placed. Many times have I forgiven the Duke, my brother; and again and again he has flouted my friendship. I am considering now the safety of the realm and I think that my brother is a danger to us. I therefore ask you to pass upon him a sentence of high treason and to deprive him of all his estates and properties which have been granted to him by the Crown.’