Soundtrack:
Thomas Tallis - O Nata Lux[1]
August 1471
*exterior* *London* *dawn* *some ships flying the Burgundian colours sail up the river* *next thing we see the colours hauled down and a flag in murrey-and-blue hoisted* *the arms of England flutter out, flanked by a black bull and a black dragon, while the lions of England are picked out in white
[2]*
*we see Antony Wydeville leading a garrison of troops out of the Tower of London into the city streets as we hear the thundering of cannons* *then the church bells start pealing a warning*
*Hastings crosses himself as he, George, duke of Clarence and their party encounter a posse of Lancastrians*
*interior* *L’Erber
[3]* *this is clearly a few days later* *George of Clarence, Richard of Gloucester, Antony Wydeville, Hastings, Edward Brandon and John Savage are all seated around a table* *we hear some noises through the ceiling that all the men are attempting to ignore*
George: *after a particularly
loud noise* *cattily interrupts* it’s rather remarkable. London is fallen, the fires in Southwark and Aldgate are put out, Bishopsgate and the bridge have been taken back from Fauconberg
[4], and instead of going to his wife, my brother is upstairs in
my house fucking
another bastard into a whore.
Wydeville: *although from his expression he does seem to agree with the majority of Clarence’s sentiments* my sister is still in sanctuary. I doubt the Dean of Westminster would welcome a
second child born in his purlieus.
George: *ignoring him* *to Hastings* has my brother decided what it is he will do with my sister, the princess of Wales?
Hastings: in what event, sir? She will not come to London willingly.
George: in the event that, now that we have London *tone implies “again”* and the north, I expect our next push will be towards Windsor and Oxford. Should we take them successfully, there is the matter of the princess of Wales-
Richard: *indulgently* don’t be greedy, George. There are her mother-in-law and mother to be considered as well.
George: I
assure you, Crumplin
[5], that that is the furthest thing from my mind. Rather, I was talking of the
state in which she’s in.
*Edward IV walks into the room, escorted by Thomas St. Leger and William Norris* *the men stand*
Edward IV: *tiredly* not
still jealous that even that Lancastrian brat could do what you couldn’t, George?
George: *brushing it off* I was
talking of the inevitable outcome of her state.
Edward IV: inevitable? *sits down* *motions for men to do so as well* I don’t believe it’s
inevitable.
Hastings: the princess of Wales is with child. That
is certain.
Edward IV: was there ever any doubt?
Wydeville: I believe- what his Royal Highness is attempting to ask, Majesty- is what you intend to
do about the situation should we be
required to deal with it.
Edward IV: is there any
doubt among you that I
will deal with the situation? *harsh tone* when that boy is born,
we will be finished. It will make no difference that their soi disant prince turns eighteen, he and Warwick will be bound to one another.
Richard: you
could name him a bastard.
Edward IV: *indulgently* Dickon…*tuts* dearest crooked of face, crooked of back, crooked of wit Dickon, what would that help? Father did it with King Henry’s son and
started this whole war. If Father was correct and he
is a bastard, then the child has no claim to the throne. Naming him a bastard is superfluous. If Father was
wrong, and he isn’t a bastard, but his son is, the boy is
still the sole heir of the Earl of Warwick. And he can summon the
entirety of the Nevilles to support him as they once supported us.
Brandon: so what will you do, your Majesty?
Edward IV: *coldly*
whatever is necessary.
*exterior* *Windsor Castle* *cut to council room* *King Henry, Queen Marguerite are both present* *as are Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, his nephew, Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, John Beaufort, Marquess of Dorset, the earl of Oxford and Chancellor Wenlock* *”in the hotseat” -as it were- is the Earl of Warwick*
Marguerite: Milord Warwick, I warned you what would happen if you played us false.
Warwick: and I assure your Majesty that I have done no such thing.
Dorset: are we to believe that there was no prior agreement? That your nephew simply
let London fall to the earl of March.
Warwick: he did not, Milord of Dorset, rather he fought bravely with what forces he had at his disposal. When he and his men were unable to hold London bridge, they set it and Southwark aflame in an attempt to prevent the earl’s forces from crossing.
Pembroke: but they
did still cross.
Warwick: say what you mean, Milord of Pembroke. The time for veiled accusations is long past- don’t you think?
*the doors to the council room bang open* *Edward of Westminster strides in* *carrying Edward, 5th duke of Somerset, on his hip* *the little boy looks rather delighted at whatever Edward is saying to him* *then the prince of Wales deposits the three-year-old in the vacant seat*
Marguerite: *exasperatedly* Edward-
*both Edwards look at her at the mention of her name*
Edward of Westminster: *
sotto voce to Somerset* she’s talking to me. *leans on back of chair and looks at his mother* yes, maman?
Marguerite: what are you doing?
Westminster: attending a council meeting that seems to have been called without inviting me, your Majesty *looks pointedly at his father* *Henry simply lowers his eyes* and since the duke of Somerset
is the highest peer in the realm after our good selves *Pembroke and Richmond both seem to grasp the implications of this* it is only fitting that he should attend as well.
Richmond: *disgustedly* he is a
child. A
basta-
Westminster: *puts his hands over Somerset’s ears* that’s enough. *to guardsman at the door* captain, if you will please escort Milord Richmond
back to his rooms until he can learn to keep a
civil tongue in his head.
*the rest of the council looks surprised* *the captain comes forward* *Richmond throws the hand off*
Richmond: unhand me you filth *glares at guard* my God a peasant like you to a queen’s grandson!
Westminster: yes…a
queen’s grandson.
Not a king’s. *motions to guard to continue* *we hear Richmond being a typical 14-year-old sent to his room by a parent* *Westminster sits in Richmond’s chair* now…why is my dear father [in-law] not seated? *motions to him to sit down*
Dorset: we were discussing the treasonous correspondence of the Earl of Warwick with his son, the duke of Clarence.
Westminster: my brother of Clarence is
well, I trust?
Dorset: *caught flat-footed* he offers
terms for the earl of Warwick.
Westminster: what terms?
Warwick: in light of your Royal Highness’ approaching birthday, the duke of Clarence has written me offering to intercede with me with the earl of March for clemency should I return to their side
[6].
Westminster: *nods amiably* and would you desert your grandson, milord? *makes Somerset laugh by pulling a silly face*
Warwick: it seems that Milords of Dorset and Pembroke regard my receiving this letter and presenting it to them as
proof of my forfeiture of your Majesties’ trust.
Westminster: *to Marguerite* and
has he forfeited your trust, Maman? He has received a letter and shown it to you. He did not disappear in the dead of night.
Marguerite: there is his nephew’s surrender of London to consider.
Westminster: *gets out of his chair and paces restlessly* that is his nephew’s behaviour. Not his. And as I understand it, Milord Bastard acquitted himself rather well with the means he had at his disposal. *turns witheringly on Dorset and Pembroke* the same, sadly, cannot be said of either of you, milords, who
retreated from London when you merely
heard that the York forces were approaching.
Dorset: we were looking to his Majesty’s safety, your Royal Highness.
Westminster: there were many who said you were looking to your own. *calmly* now…Milord Pembroke…you will return to Wales. You will rally as many men as you are able- tell them that their
prince is requiring of their services once more.
Pembroke: my nephew, sir-
Westminster: he is young. He is forgiven. He will stay with
me-
Pembroke: but I am responsible for him. Since his father died. We have seldom been parted-
Westminster: *royal tone*
we would keep him here. With
us.
Pembroke: *looks conflicted but finally bows in obedience*
Westminster: now, Milord Dorset…I trust you have no
further aspersions to cast on *heavy tone* our most trustworthy father’s loyalties.
Dorset: none, sir.
Westminster: good. Then, Milord Warwick, you will
write to my brother of Clarence-
*stunned silence at table*
Westminster: and you will offer him
our terms.
*exterior* *Woodstock Palace* *we see Edward of Westminster arriving*
*interior* *Anne Neville- now visibly pregnant- is sitting near a window in her rooms* *she is having her portrait painted* *her sisters, Isabel, duchess of Clarence and Margaret Huddleston
[7], are talking to her* *we can see Isabel’s levity is more forced
[8]*
Page: his Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales.
*Isabel and Margaret both rise and curtsey as their brother-in-law enters* *they- and the painter- turn to leave*
Edward: Lady Huddleston, if you’ll be so kind as to close the door on your way out. This concerns Isabel too.
*Margaret looks sympathetically at her sister as she closes the door* *Anne takes her sister’s hand*
Edward: *puts finger under her chin and raises her head* nothing quite so drastic to merit such a face, dear sister. I’d not endanger the life of my son if it were.
*both Anne and Isabel look relieved*
Edward: George has written.
Isabel: *trying to play it cool* he is unharmed?
Edward: *irritatedly* certainly far less than your cousin of Fauconberg. I hear he’ll now
look the pirate…with the eyepatch. *normal tone* although I must say…if I were the one holding him prisoner, he should be in the Tower’s dungeons and
not living at L’Erber
[9].
Anne: but that’s father’s house. George has no right to it.
Edward: your father is the one to whom George has written.
Anne: but why?
Edward: to make him a deal that would not see his head separated from his shoulders.
Isabel: your Royal Highness trusts that Edward will uphold it.
Edward:
this Edward would.
That Edward…well…I don’t trust him to do it. He’s played this role before. Offering clemency as a ruse de guerre
[10]. After all…if his behaviour with Pembroke or Devon
[11] is anything to go by, he would’ve beheaded Arundel and installed one of his
own protégés as earl. Not allowed the earl’s son to succeed on promise that he would not take arms against him again.
Anne: and you believe that my cousin of Arundel will abide by that, Ned?
Edward: I’ve offered to make his daughter
[12] a duchess by betrothing her to Somerset. I was unaware that the earl of March has any dukes up his sleeve aside from that poor miserable specimen that is his brother.
Anne: *lightly scolding* you shouldn’t be cruel about Crumplin like that, Ned.
Edward: your charity does your credit, Nanette
[13]. But when he has called me a bastard, I suspect I am being too kind by half. *he throws himself on the bed* in fact…my
kindness to your sister was called
weakness earlier.
Isabel: to me, your Royal Highness?
Edward: I would return you to your husband’s
loving arms. That’s what the wedding vows say, do they not? What God has so joined let no man set asunder?
Isabel: why?
Edward: gesture of good will. We will allow you to return to George. And in exchange, they are to give us Lords Clifford, Fauconberg, Ormonde and Wiltshire. Personally, I would hand over Richmond in exchange for his stepfather, but sadly, even George wrote back and said
they don’t even want
him.
*both women laugh*
Isabel: but I would have to leave Annie- and Madge.
Edward: *climbing off the bed* *walking over to the easel* for a little while, yes. Who knows…perhaps when we see one another again, you will
both be the mother to an Edward.
Isabel: *looks conflicted*
Edward: *squints at the painting* *then looks at Anne* this looks nothing like you. *the nose is too long and the chin non-existent* *plus, she’s shown with straight fair hair instead of her curling more strawberry-blonde colour*
when we win, I’ll ask my grandfather to send over a portraitist. Best in France. No…someone Italian- they know all sorts of new things- get a
proper picture done of you. The way the Yorks describe me, one would believe I was a squash-faced, pot-bellied dwarf *the clearly
not short or pot-bellied Ned bends over and kisses her pouty mouth tenderly, puts a protective hand on her belly*
*fade to black*
[1] The
O nata lux text is taken from a 10th-century anonymous hymn that uses the concept of light to symbolise hope. The hymn is sung at Lauds on the feast of the Transfiguration (6 August)
[2] Mostly because the “roses” symbol is anachronistic. The black bull (symbol of Lionel of Antwerp, duke of Clarence), the black dragon (symbol of the earldom of Ulster) and the white lions (the Mortimer earldom of March, Richard II’s “chosen heir”) were used by the Yorks to underline the “primacy” of their claim
[3] “One of the finest houses in London” as a contemporary described it. The property of Warwick which later passed to his daughter, Isabel, duchess of Clarence
[4] Nephew of the Kingmaker
[5] I read that this was an (affectionate) nickname used by Clarence and the Nevilles (where he was brought up) for Richard III. It means one who is “small in stature and crooked of appearance”
[6] Clarence did this OTL
[7] The Kingmaker’s bastard daughter, married to Richard Huddleston sometime between 1464 and the Nevilles’ departure for France. Huddleston himself was the heir to his father, the 9e Lord Millom. However, sadly, he predeceased his father- possibly dying at Bosworth. Margaret was certainly in Anne’s household when she became queen, and given her “closeness” would be a prime candidate for a post like the later mistress of the robes
[8] There seems to be very little evidence to support the popular depictions of George, duke of Clarence as a an abusive drunkard. In fact, all things considered, he and Isabel seem to have had a – for the time – reasonably contented marriage. It’s worth noting that he’s the only one of his brothers to have fathered no bastards or kept a mistress. And his reaction after her death OTL suggests someone genuinely mad with grief at the loss and looking for someone to blame.
[9] Warwick’s townhouse in London that George and Isabel inherited
[10] Edward IV lured both Robert Dymoke's father (Thomas Dymoke) and the 8e Baron Welles (Dymoke's uncle) from Westminster Abbey with the promise of a pardon
[11] Two earldoms were Edward IV awarded the lands to his supporters
[12] This would be Margaret FitzAlan. How committed Edward of Westminster is to this betrothal is debatable, but at the same time, he's right about the fact that the only "duke" Edward IV has readily available, is the duke of Gloucester. The Lancasters, by contrast, have both the duke of Somerset and George Neville (who hasn't been deprived of the dukedom of Bedford yet) in reserve.
[13] From a contemporary description of Anne: seemly, amiable and beauteous, and in conditions full commendable and right virtuous and, according to the interpretation of her name, Anne, full gracious.