Jean Plaidy - To Hold the Crown - The Story of King Henry VII and Elizabeth of York

He went to Perkin’s camp. The young man was sunk in melancholy.

“You do not look happy, my friend,” said James. “Are you missing your warm marital bed?”

“’Tis so, my lord.”

“Ah, I miss my own bed. I tell you that.”

“I am troubled because the blood we are shedding is that of Englishmen . . . my own subjects,” said Perkin. “I cannot sleep at night for thinking of it.”

He cannot sleep at night because he wants his Katharine! thought James. He cannot sleep at night because he knows that Englishmen do not want King Richard the Fourth, and they will stay with Henry Tudor rather than fight. Well, it is a pleasant and human excuse and it will help to get me back to Edinburgh.

James nodded. “That is no mood in which to go to war, my friend.”

“I agree,” Perkin answered eagerly.

“Well, we have done our little foray. Perhaps we should think of returning to Edinburgh.”

Perkin felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He was going home to Katharine and the baby.

There was murmuring throughout the country because Dudley and Empson were endeavoring to raise money for the Scottish war. The people were being asked to pay heavy taxes because a certain Perkin Warbeck was attempting to wrest the throne from Henry Tudor.

To the people of Bodmin in Cornwall this seemed a matter for kings to decide among themselves. What did it matter to them what king was on the throne? When did they ever see him? King Henry or King Richard . . . what did Cornwall care?

Lawyer Thomas Flammock felt very strongly on this issue. He went into the market square and talked to the people about it. They gathered round listening intently. There was not a man present who had not been harassed by extra taxes.

“My patience me,” grumbled the blacksmith Michael Joseph, ’tis hard enough for the likes of we to put bread in our mouths and those of our childer . . . are us going to stand by and pay like helpless fules? Don’t ’ee think we should up and do som’at about it?”

Joseph was a powerful speaker. In his forge he talked what the King would call sedition but what to the people of Bodmin seemed sound common sense.

“Where is the fighting?” asked Thomas Flammock. “It’s on the border between Scotland and England, there’s where it is. They’ve been fighting there for hundreds of years and they’ll go on fighting for a hundred more. Why should we be asked to pay for their quarrels?”

“But what do we do about it, eh, lawyer?” shouted a voice in the crowd.

“That is what I want to suggest to you,” said Flammock. “We can march to London. We can present a petition to the King and ask him to get rid of his evil advisers. If the King wants to wage war it is not for us . . . the people of Cornwall . . . who know no difference, wars or no wars . . . it is not for us to pay for it.”

The crowd cheered loudly.

“And who will go to London with this petition?” asked the man who had spoken before.

“We must all go, my friend. If one or two of us go . . . we’d not be received most likely. We’ve got to show them that we mean what we say. We must go to London in a body . . . march to London . . . show that we mean what we say: we will not pay these taxes for a fight which does not concern us.”

“We would want someone to lead us,” said the man. He pushed his way to the spot where Flammock was standing with Joseph. “Friends,” he cried, “here’s two good Cornish men. Shall we ask them to lead us to London and the King?”

There was a shout from the crowd.

“Lawyer Flammock and Blacksmith Joseph! Our leaders . . .”

There was wild enthusiasm, but Flammock lifted his hand for silence.

“I will lead you,” he said. “And you, Michael?”

“Aye,” said Michael. “I’ll come along.”

“We will lead you until we can find someone more worthy to be your leader.”

“Ain’t no one more worthy than ’ee, lawyer,” shouted a voice.

“Someone of the nobility would carry more weight. But we shall not delay. We shall set out for London. . . .Tomorrow at dawn . . . we’ll assemble here and those who can, must come with us. The more men we have the more likely we are to make our point. Is that agreed?”

There was a roar of approval in the crowd. The next morning at dawn, Flammock was amazed at the numbers who had assembled in the square. They were carrying bows and arrows and billhooks. He was a little alarmed for he had meant this to be a peaceful demonstration.

By the time they reached Taunton their numbers had grown and Flammock was a little dismayed for he had been joined by ruffians whose intent he knew was to rob and pillage. This was the last thing Flammock had had in mind, and he began to wonder whether it would not have been better to have selected, say, a dozen men, all worthies of the town of Bodmin, and with them gone to London to present the petition.

The crowd was getting out of hand. This was proved when the Provost of Taunton came out to remonstrate with them, for some of the men were overrunning the town and helping themselves from the shops.

Flammock was horrified to see the Provost lying in a pool of blood. The man was dead.

He managed to get them out of the town quickly. There he spoke to them. “That was a regrettable incident,” he said. “Now we have a man’s blood on our hands. To kill is not the purpose of this expedition. I want no more scenes like that. We have not come to rob and murder but to talk to the King about harsh taxes. There must be no more killing. God help us for we have slain a man who was doing nothing but his duty.”

At Wells they were joined by James Touchet, Lord Audley. Audley was very dissatisfied with the King. He had been in France with Henry and he felt he had not been given his dues. He was therefore feeling extremely disgruntled and when he saw the large numbers of men descending on Wells he rode out to speak with their leaders.

He found Thomas Flammock a reasonable and educated man and he agreed with him that it was insupportable that the King should demand such high taxes from people who were not in a position to pay them.

In a rather rash moment he offered to accompany them.

Seeing an opportunity of shifting responsibilities, Flammock was delighted.

“My lord,” he said, “you are a nobleman of high degree. It is for you to take over the leadership of our party.”

Audley saw the point of this.

So, with Audley at their head the Cornish rebels marched to London and on a hot June day, weary but expectant, they arrived at Deptford Strand.

Henry was furious. This was what he had always feared. A dissatisfied people no doubt fired by this impostor in Scotland now saw fit to rise against him.

The nightmare had become a reality.

His forces were concentrating in the North to deal with the Scottish threat. And now here was trouble from the West.

He hastily sent messengers to his armies on the way to the North. They must send a considerable force up to the Border it was true; but he must have forces in the South to meet the rebellious Cornishmen.

Lord Daubeney, who had only just set out for the North when the call came, turned back and made his way to Deptford Strand. The Cornishmen had become somewhat disheartened by the indifference of the people through whose towns and villages they had passed and who were clearly of the opinion that to start a rebellion would bring them more trouble than paying what was asked.

In vain did Flammock attempt to explain that it was merely a petition he had set out to take to London. He was learning that it was impossible to prevent such an undertaking assuming an uglier aspect.