by Richard Tearle
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GOODNIGHT, SWEET PRINCE
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| (image: Wikipedia) |
How do you tell a man he is to die?
By St Paul, but Edward could be vindictive when it suited him. But to decree that their own brother must suffer the ultimate penalty was beyond anything the king had ever done before. And then, in temper, to instruct – no! Order – that he, Richard, be the one to break the news to George bordered on the callous and inhumane.
Oh how Richard hated London! Rarely did anything good come from his presence here. And this must be the worst time he could remember. More than ever he yearned for the deserted moors of Yorkshire, the wind whipping his face and hair as he rode across undulating land, going nowhere special. Out for the thrill of it.
And he longed too for the arms of Anne. She would find a way to calm him were she here now. But she was not. All he had was Murray his secretary, his friend Lovell and one or two others of his acquaintance. None of them could console him. Later, when this thing was over, he would dictate to Murray a letter for Anne. It was all he could do for now. He prayed that he would be allowed to leave the court as soon as possible. Tomorrow would be favourite.
He and Edward did not argue often. When they did it could be verbally violent. But none yet had ever matched this.
'For God's sake,' Richard implored, 'he is your brother. Our brother. Must it really come to this? Is there no other way? No solution that will appease you?'
Edward turned on his youngest brother. 'Appease me? No, there is no solution but the one I have decided upon. There can be no other way, Richard. No other way.'
'Banishment?' Richard suggested, knowing what the answer would be.'
'Again?' Edward retorted with more than a hint of sarcasm. 'That worked well before, didn't it?'
Richard sighed. 'No doubt Elizabeth will be pleased.' He wished immediately that he had not said that. At least, not within Edward's hearing.
Edward threw his goblet at the wall where it shattered into fragments. 'My wife has nothing to do with this. This has been my decision; mine and mine alone. Beware, dear brother, of what you say. Your disapproval of Elizabeth has long been noted.'
'You threaten me now?'
Edward relented almost immediately, wiped his brow with the palm of his hand. 'Forgive me, Dickon. You are my dearest friend and brother. Truly. Never have you failed me and your loyalty overrides any misgivings you may have about the queen. But George has gone too far. You can see that, surely? He has taken the law into his own hands – my law, let it be noted.' Edward wagged a finger. 'He acts like a king, talks like a king and metes out his own punishments like a king. As if he were king.'
'George has always been … George,' Richard offered lamely.
'He has. But no more.'
'And the children? Margaret and Edward?'
'No blame is attached to them,' Edward assured his brother. They will not suffer and will be well looked after.'
'And what about our mother?'
Edward was more thoughtful. 'I will tell her. She will not be pleased, of course, but I will face her myself.'
Richard stood up, the chair scraping on the wooden floor of the chamber as he did so. 'I beg permission to return to Middleham. As soon as possible.' he added.
Edward turned presenting his back to his brother. 'You may leave tomorrow,' he said with a wave of his bejewelled hand. Turned back. 'When this is over.'
Richard gasped. 'You mean...you mean you want it done now? Tonight?'
Edward turned back, leaned on the table between them. Fists on the oaken top. Knuckles white, eyes blazing. 'Yes. And the sooner 'tis done, the sooner you can go.'
'Will you not let him be shriven?'
Edward laughed. 'Since when did George care for such things?'
'I'll take him some wine,' Richard gave in. 'If you will allow him that.'
'Take him a butt,' Edward said. 'George loves his Malmsey. Let him drown in it.'
'Was that a jest, Ned? If it was … '
Edward was fired up again. 'No, Dickon, it was not. I am sparing him the inconsistency of the axe or the humiliation of the rope. He will drown in Malmsey wine. Within the hour. Now: see to it.' He turned his back on Richard again.
'Ned … '
'No more! Go!'
Richard left.
George did not say a word as Richard falteringly delivered the news, but his face turned white. 'When – when is this to be?' he croaked eventually.
Richard shrugged. He had not the heart to reveal that the guards were outside, waiting only for him to emerge and silently order that George be escorted to his death. Was that a final betrayal? Richard reckoned that the guards would efficiently secure George, march him to the waiting butt only a few yards away and bundle him to it in less than a minute. George would be dead before he knew it.
'I suppose you and he cooked this up together,' accused George.
'No brother, 'tis not true. I begged and pleaded with Ned not to do this thing. We near came to blows, I can assure you.'
George's returning sneer said more than words ever could.
Richard looked around him. At least George was not in the dungeons below. True he had little that could be termed luxury, but he was comfortable with a bed, a table and two chairs, parchment and writing materials as well as books. A brazier, too, for warmth. A guttering candle casting shadows. Poor George's light would be out long before the candle died. In the silence, Richard could swear that he could detect the fast, uneven thump of George's heart. He wanted to go. Leave. Turn his back on George knowing he would never see him again.
'You have never forgiven me for that business with Anne, have you?'
Richard said, 'I have forgiven you brother.' Another lie. 'But I can never forget.' Then, with an exasperated cry, 'You just went too far, George! Can you not see that?'
'I did what I had to do,' George yelled back at him. 'They were my people, on my lands and breaking my rules.' He stood, shakily. His body quivered with anger, despair. His face was red and a drop of water glinted at the corner of one eye. He placed his hands at the back of his head, pressing down hard. 'Leave me,' he cried. 'I know you can't wait to get away from me.'
'George, I - '
'Leave!' George screamed the word.
Richard rose. 'I am sorry, George,' he almost whispered and turned for the door.
Outside. Breathed. Nodded to the captain of the guards. Whispered, 'Do your duty.'
The guards marched in. Richard could not watch but heard the scream, the ensuing scuffle. George was never one to go quietly. Yet within a matter of seconds he was being dragged backwards out of the chamber, his wrists tied behind him, his arms bound to his sides. Yelling. 'Not now! You never said it was to be now you bastard. Sweet Jesu do I have no time? Must I die without being shriven? A curse on you, brother Dickon. And on you brother Ned, who has not the guts to face me!' He struggled still. To no avail. The guards knew their business and they had now reached the huge, opened butt. A man held the lid in one hand. There were no words as George was heaved from his feet and then unceremoniously tipped head first beneath the surface of the wine. He probably never heard the sound of the nails being hammered down to secure the lid.
(Picture
from Wikipedia)
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Comments from the original post
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Helen Hollick19 July 2020 at 11:15I have never liked Edward because of this episode - not that George was a nice bloke either! Except, of course, we don't really know how Richard felt about this, he could have been complicit (I know, Ricardian's will be horrified at the suggestion) - I'm just saying...
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Richard Tearle19 July 2020 at 11:20General opinion is that Richard did protest about the sentence - though i can't be sure that that is true. Edward was a great leader in war, but in peacetime? George was definitely ambitious and probably thought that he should have been king....
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Elizabeth St.John19 July 2020 at 22:17How vivid! Loved the atmosphere and interplay between the brothers. George was certainly the "middle child" and I do think he inconveniently held the clue to Lady Eleanor Talbot's relationship with Edward IV.
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Richard Tearle19 July 2020 at 22:28Thank you Liz! Yes, I agree that he knew 'the truth' and was ready to spill the beans.
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Cazo2821 July 2020 at 12:22Wow, that was a bit of history I didn't know. Thank you for writing this so cleverly. I really enjoyed it, and so will Nigel.
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Richard Tearle21 July 2020 at 12:24Thank you so much xx Caz!!!
