The final score settled

In 1502, the indefatigable Margaret and Henry finally worked out who had sheltered Edward V and Richard of York. Sir James Tyrrell was tortured into signing a confession that has been the Official Narrative of the Princes in the Tower ever since, and then executed.

Were I limited to the annals of history, my story would end on this sordid note. That would be a poor reward for anyone who has read this far. Fortunately I have one fictional character at my disposal. Lady Matilda Rose accepted a proposal of marriage from Lord Ralph Harris of Walsingham, and they lived happily ever after.

All the same, we take our chances,
Laughed at by time, tricked by circumstances.
Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose.
The more that things change, the more they stay the same.

Acknowledgements

"Lambert Simnel"

In 1487, the first reports that a rival King had been proclaimed in Dublin were received in London.

Lady Matilda Rose, now working in the private sector as a royal pundit, immediately put the word out on the grapevine that it was someone impersonating Richard of York, younger brother of Edward V.

When later reports named the rival King as Edward, Henry Tudor was ready. He had imprisoned Edward, son of Clarence, in the Tower from the start of his reign, even though Edward posed no real threat as he was barred from the throne by his father's attainder. The story was propagated that the claimant in Dublin was Edward, son of Clarence. Henry allowed his prisoner a rare excursion to St Paul's Cathedral. Everyone saw that the real son of Clarence was in London, and concluded that the one in Dublin was an impostor.

As Henry well knew, the Dublin pretender was actually Edward V. From Ireland, Edward brought a substantial army which fought its way through Lancashire, Yorkshire and Sherwood Forest as far south as the river Trent. At Stoke Field near Newark, forces loyal to Henry finally overcame it. Edward was killed, but Henry had something different for public consumption. He alleged that the impostor had been captured alive and spared. A young lad was presented with a well prepared back story and the distinctive name of "Lambert Simnel". Elizabeth Lambert was the real name of "Jane Shore", so "Lambert" had useful connotations of illegitimacy. "Simnel", the time of year, was an unknown surname so instantly memorable. It also commenced the long tradition of associating conspiracy theories with fruitcakes. Henry displayed his magnanimity by appointing "Simnel" to the position of royal spit turner, and kept the legend in the public consciousness by subsequently promoting him to royal falconer.

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Love sickness

Elizabeth filled Richard's thoughts. Whenever she came into the same room, it felt like a huge physical effort to stop his legs walking over to her. He felt as if he would burst when courtiers pointed out to him how well she looked. His feelings were so strong that he found it hard to understand why they were not obvious to everyone else, but he knew that he must maintain self control, both out of respect for Anne and to ensure that Lady Margaret Beaufort had no idea that Elizabeth was allied to him. A distraction was called for, to divert suspicion.

For the forthcoming Christmas festivities, Richard made a gift of a new dress to Princess Elizabeth of York. It was to be in the same style as Queen Anne's dresses. Richard commissioned its procurement to Lady Matilda Rose, by now the oldest Maid of Honour in the history of England. This had the desired effect of setting tongues wagging in the court about Richard's designs upon his niece.

Elizabeth read Richard's move perfectly. She encouraged her daughter to write to her uncle, thanking him for his gift with exaggerated terms of endearment. She gave the letter to Lady Matilda Rose, stressing that it was so confidential that it could not be entrusted to any lesser person. Matilda delivered the letter faithfully, but not without first peeking at its contents. As a result, talk of Richard marrying the Princess spread like wildfire.

Richard had the satisfaction of being forced to make another solemn public pledge, this time that he had no intention of marrying Princess Elizabeth of York.

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The Royal Council of 1451

At the Royal Council Sessions of 1451 that commenced the next day, the Duke of York was not slow to air his grievances against King Henry VI.

York: The time for change has come. The country will not tolerate incompetence any longer. All the glorious gains of your majesty's father in France are being lost. We need a new policy to reclaim the lost territories, and new commanders to execute it.

Henry: On the contrary, it is a blessing to be relieved of this burden. We have land of our own a-plenty here in England. Let us leave the French to enjoy theirs. We have no need of it.

York: Your majesty, for over a hundred years our countrymen have shed their blood in defence of the lawful claim of the King of England to the throne of France. Has their sacrifice been in vain? We must fight on, out of faithfulness to their memory.

Henry: A hundred years of slaughter is more than enough. It is better to end it now than to suffer another century of bloodshed.

York: What sort of King does not fulfil his primary obligation, to defend his lawful domain?

Henry: Our Lord and Saviour is King of Kings, yet He is not ashamed to be called Prince of Peace.

York: This is the fifteenth century. We have a modern economy that depends upon resources from overseas territories and the pursuit of warfare. Already the merchants are complaining that they are losing money. We must invest in our armed men and their equipment, and in the fleet. That is the only way to restore our prosperity. Is it not our duty to relieve poverty?

Henry: Of course we should care for the poor, yet there are other trades which may serve equally well to the purpose. For that we shall require better education, and it is in education that I am minded to invest. My new colleges at Eton and Cambridge are a great success, and I urge similar ventures upon the nobles gathered here. Let men have the consolations of reading and knowledge.

York: This is madness. If knowledge is diffused more widely it will only be used to overturn the established state. Let us channel the virile instincts of the people into patriotic warfare, otherwise they will be channelled into rebellion against us. Real men have no time for book learning.

Henry: Not so. There is a great hunger for learning in our land. My grandfather introduced a law requiring that heretics be burnt at the stake, yet their number has only multiplied. How much better it would be if mother Church, rather than a Lollard preacher, was satisfying their desire for instruction. Let us invest in the Church. Consider the great chapel I have planned at Cambridge. It may take a hundred years to build, but how much better an employment of the time and talent of man than the hundred years' war of which we have spoken. Besides it will bring glory to God, and who knows but that it may cause Him to shine the light of His countenance upon us.

York: You are supposed to be our King, not our Archbishop. Away with these castles in the air. The reality is that law and order are collapsing around us. The nobles need funds to reinforce their armies so that they can deal with threats to lawful authority.

Henry: The only disorder that I have observed arises from these private armies clashing with each other. If the nobles were to disband them they would be relieved of the expense and the nation would be relieved of much violence.

York: This is insane. Surely you have not forgotten the late insurrection of Jack Cade?

Henry: Indeed I have not. I remember quite distinctly that he used the name Mortimer, which coincidentally is one of your family names, and that he quartered at the White Hart, which coincidentally is one of your emblems, so I have my doubts about whether it was a spontaneous popular uprising.

York: The conspiracy theory of a lunatic if ever I heard one.

The Council continued in a similar vein for some days, but after its conclusion there was a more harmonious discussion. As the chamber emptied, a message was brought to the King. Baron Rivers, Baron Ferrers and his son John Grey craved a private interview with their majesties, which was readily granted.

Henry: What is your petition?

Ferrers: Your majesties, my son requests the hand in marriage of Elizabeth, daughter of Baron Rivers. The Baron has graciously consented, and we seek your approval since Elizabeth is a Maid of Honour to the Queen.

Henry: An excellent proposal. Do you not agree, my lady?

Margaret: Only if I can find a suitable replacement.

John: Your majesties, may I humbly suggest the Lady Matilda Rose?

Henry: Splendid idea.

Margaret: Then I consent. Felicitations.

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The eyelids of a dragon

"... and she has the eyelids of a dragon!"

John Grey had been ignoring the monotonous prattle of his dining companion, Lady Matilda Rose, but this curious description arrested his attention. How could he find out who she was talking about without betraying the fact that he hadn't listened to a word she had said for the last ten minutes? He didn't need to concern himself because Matilda had been desperate to engage him, and continued eagerly.

"Nouveau riche, as Queen Margaret would say. Her father is only the First Baron Rivers, and how do you think he obtained that? By defeating Pedro de Vasquez of Spain at a jousting tournament. A common sporting champion! Not like my family, a long distinguished line that won its honours in real battles like Crecy and Agincourt. As for her mother, she is from Luxembourg. I don't know where that is, but they say it is pagan and full of witchcraft, and definitely foreign. I suppose that is why our queen from Anjou has favoured dragon-eyes as a Maid of Honour over us English girls."

John Grey looked across to the section of the Royal Banquet where the Maids of Honour were seated. As he scanned their faces, he saw none that had the monstrous features described, but then his gaze alighted on one so lovely as to be unmistakeably responsible for provoking such intense jealousy in Lady Matilda Rose. He stared, transfixed. After a short while, Elizabeth Woodville looked up at him, as people who are stared at always do (no one knows why) and John looked away.

A decent interval later, John tried to sneak another look at Elizabeth, only to discover that she had chosen the same moment to sneak a look at him, so they both quickly averted their eyes. This happened several times. John felt embarrassed, and resolved not to look again. Within him, though, an emotion was welling up that overwhelmed mere embarrassment. He could not help himself, he must look again. This time, instead of looking away when their eyes met, he smiled. Elizabeth smiled back, irresistibly.

Lady Matilda Rose worked on the principle that what she lacked in charm she made up for with persistency. "I hear that your estate at Grow-by is very beautiful. I should so like to see it".

"Actually, we pronounce it Groo-by" was the only reply.

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