‘I want you to ride with all speed to York. Take this letter from me and it is to be put into the hands of the Mayor. I want him to raise men and come south to assist me, and to do so with all speed.’
He had written that he needed men and arms to assist him against the Queen and her blood adherents and affinity who, he was assured, intended to destroy him and his cousin the Duke of Buckingham, as the old royal blood of the realm.
‘This,’ said Richard, ‘is of the utmost importance. Delay could cost me my life. Impress this on my good friends in the North.’
‘I will do this, my lord, and leave at once.’
Richard Ratcliffe took the letters and set off.
But Richard of Gloucester knew that he could not afford to wait for help from the North.
It was Friday, the thirteenth of June, two days after Ratcliffe had left for the North. The Protector had summoned the Council to assemble in the Tower for a meeting. There was nothing strange about this for meetings at this time occurred frequently and the Tower was usually chosen for them to take place.
Among those who were to attend were Archbishop Rotherham, Morton Bishop of Ely, Lord Stanley and Lord Hastings.
Richard knew exactly what he had to do.
It was going to be extremely distasteful, but it had to be done. It was either that or his own head and disaster for England as he saw it. So he must not shirk his duty. His brother had not when it came to the point. Clarence had signed his death warrant when he had taunted Edward with the illegitimacy of his children.
Edward had been strong, as Richard must be.
It was a beautiful morning. The sun dappled the water of the Thames as his barge bore him along. He alighted and looked back along the river and then turned to face the Tower. The King was there ... in the Palace. He must remain there until the Protector had decided how best to act.
He met Bishop Morton as he was about to enter the council chamber. He was affable though in his heart he was deeply suspicious of the Bishop. A staunch Lancastrian who had changed sides and served Edward of York when it was expedient to do so. Richard could never like such men; he would have had more respect for him if he had refused to serve Edward and had gone into exile. Not the ambitious Bishop. He was very comfortable in his palace in Ely Place, where he had the most magnificent gardens.
‘I hear your strawberries are particularly fine this year, Bishop,’ said Richard.
‘That’s so, my lord. The weather has been right for them.’
‘I trust you will give me an opportunity to sample them.’
‘My lord, it will be an honour. I will have them sent to Crosby Place. I doubt not the Lady Anne will like them.’
‘Thank you, Bishop.’
Stanley, Rotherham and Hastings had arrived. They all looked relaxed. It was clear that they had no notion yet as to what was about to take place.
Richard veiled the distaste he felt on beholding Hastings. He must have come straight from Jane Shore. He looked jaunty, younger than of late. He was clearly enjoying the company of the late King’s favourite mistress.
The council meeting proceeded and after a while Richard said: ‘My lords, will you continue without me for a while. There is something to which I have to attend. I shall be with you ere long.’ That was the first intimation the members of the Council had that morning that something strange might be afoot. That Richard should suddenly leave them in this way was unusual. It was almost as though he were preparing himself for some ordeal and wished to steel himself before attempting it.
Hastings was thinking that although Richard appeared to be cool he had seemed a little preoccupied. For instance he had not glanced Hastings’s way since he had appeared. But there was all that chat about Morton’s strawberries. That was natural enough. Hastings thought: I imagined this. It is because of Jane. She was worried because he was getting very deeply involved in the conspiracy with the Queen.
Richard had come back. He looked quite different from the man who had left the council chamber. His face was white; there was a look of bitter determination in his eyes.
He spoke quietly but firmly. ‘My lords, you know well who it was whom my brother set up as guardian of his son, do you not?’
‘Indeed yes, my lord. It was you ... his brother.’
‘That is true. But there are traitors who would deprive me of my rights ... who would destroy me. What punishment would they deserve who are guilty of this?’
No one spoke. They were all so astonished, taken off their guard as they were.
‘You do not answer me. My lord Hastings, what think you?’
‘Well, my lord, if any have done this they deserve to be punished.’
‘Whoever they be, my lord Hastings, whoever they be? I will tell you who have sought to do this to me. I will name these traitors. They have plotted against me ... The Queen is one ... and Jane Shore, my brother’s mistress, is another. These two have worked together ... against me.’
Hastings felt limp with fear at the mention of Jane’s name. He knew what was coming. He knew her visits to the Sanctuary had been remarked on. Gloucester knew ...
It had happened too suddenly for him to think clearly. He could only stare at the fierce eyes of the Protector glowing in his pale face.
‘Now, if these women have conspired against me then they are traitors ... What should be the fate of traitors?’ There was silence round the table. Everyone’s eyes were on Gloucester. He had turned to Hastings.
‘You are silent, my lord. Tell us what should be the fate of these ... traitors.’
Hastings forced himself to speak. ‘If they have done these things and if they can be proved against them ...’ he began.
Richard turned to him. ‘You answer me with your ifs and your ands. I tell you this, they have done it. And you have been with them in this treachery !’ He struck his fist on the table with such violence that all those watching drew back in their seats. ‘I will make good on your body, my lord Hastings.’
There was a moment of silence. For half a second Richard wavered. He looked at Hastings. He had been fond of this man who had been Edward’s greatest friend. Edward had found great pleasure in his company. But that made the remedy ever more necessary. Hastings had known that Edward had appointed him; and yet he was ready to play the traitor not only to Richard but to Edward.
There must be no softening; he must be strong. Everything depended on how he acted at this time.
He looked steadily at Hastings.
‘I swear I will not dine until your head is severed from your body. You are a traitor, Hastings, and the reward of traitors should be death.’
He rapped on the table. It was the sign he had told the guards to wait for. They came in shouting: ‘Treason.’
Richard looked at the guards and the ashen faces of the men about the table.
‘Arrest these men,’ cried Richard, indicating Rotherham, Morton and Stanley.
Take them away. But not my lord Hastings. No ... not my lord Hastings. You, traitor, shall die now.’
It was the signal. The guards seized the four men. Rotherham and Morton were taken to lodgings in the Tower; Stanley went to his home under guard; but Hastings was conducted at once to the Green and a priest was found for him so that he could hastily be shriven.
Hastings, bewildered still, stood on the Green. It was so sudden. This morning he had said adieu to Jane, now his loving mistress, just as he had always wanted her to be – telling her he would soon be with her.
He had been happy. He was dabbling with conspiracy it was true but that added a certain zest to his life. He had been reckless; he had been foolish; he had never liked the Woodvilles. He saw how foolish he had been to think of throwing in his lot with them. Gloucester was a strong man. Edward had seen that when he had named him as Protector.