Stay Misty for Me ~ BoB II

Stay Misty for Me

Being a sort of prelude to the Battle of Barnet, April 14, 1471
Re-fought January 10, 2009

The Fog of War
"The air temperature dropped quickly after dark, and moisture that had evaporated from the wet clay of Gladsmuir Heath during the day condensed into a thick mist. Smoke and shockwaves from Warwick's thundering artillery caused a thick chemical fog, so that when morning broke an unusually dense "pea souper" enveloped the battlefield."

Martin Reboul – Richard III Society

In 1471, Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, had almost as much money and influence as God himself; "God" of course being the newest King of England, Edward IV. However, Edward had achieved the rank of deity by three strokes of good fortune rather than by his own divine doing.

First, he was born the eldest son of the "true" royal bloodline, at least by the Yorkist scorecard. It is no secret that his two younger siblings – Richard, Duke and Gloucester, and George, Duke of Clarence – viewed this "elder" status as but a minor obstacle to their own paths to fame, fortune, and Godhood.

Second, Edward was fortunate enough to have his dear daddy, Richard, Duke of York, killed by the "false" King Henry’s Lancastrian supporters at Wakefield a few years back. This unpleasant act of treachery gave Edward the chance to play in the big leagues. But he would need some help.

Third, help came in the personage of Earl Warwick – a long time advisor and friend to the late senior Yorkist – who also came with a great idea: Why not claim the crown for young Edward, lock up Old Weird Harry, and become "advisor for life" to the weak and naïve new king? What a plan! What could go wrong?

Women, that’s what. For a while everything went according to Warwick’s plan; Henry was safely locked away in the Tower, the Lancastrians were stripped of titles and lands, and Edward was coming of age, i.e. he was in "rut". Fine, wonderful even. A quick trip to France and Warwick would come back with the daughter of the French King, and not only gain a queen for Edward, but a powerful ally for himself…er, England that is. Unfortunately, the young, naïve King Edward preferred "home grown" Yorkshire pudding rather than the imported variety. While Warwick was away playing royal pimp, Edward married a local hotty named Elizabeth Woodville; bestowing her kin with all those extra titles and lands he had laying about and acted – oddly enough – like the King of England. This, of course, pissed Warwick off, and I do mean royally.

Warwick’s own journal records his thoughts: "Kids. You try to raise them right and what do you get? No respect, no appreciation for all your hard work, that’s what. What’s a powerful, egotistical, megalomaniac to do? Well, one bad apple doesn’t spoil the barrel. I’ll just get me another brother. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Not Richard though. That one is kind of weird, scary looking even. That other brother though, the youngest one, what’s his name… George, I think. Yeah, George. He’ll do just fine."

So Warwick wines and dines George, promises him the world, or at least England, and returns from France with the full blessings of – are you ready? – Queen Margaret and all the former Lancastrian enemies. Seems the silver-tongued Warwick also promised to return Henry to power – failing to mention his little pep talk with George. Soon, Henry is back on the throne, Warwick is back in charge, and George is again in back of the lineage bus. Now it’s Edward’s turn to set sail for the continent. He finds safe harbor in Burgundy, since the Duke there is also royally pissed; only his anger is at the King of France for backing Warwick, as it seems Warwick ALSO promised to send troops to France to help kill Burgundians. Rumor has it that Warwick was also engaged in a lucrative real estate deal, selling land off the coast of Dover to the Spaniards ("Great location. Ocean view. On a clear day, you can see Calais").

Edward soon returns to England with some new friends in the form of unintelligible German and Flemish mercenaries, a "loaner" group of fairly expensive Burgundian handgunners and men-at-arms ("You break ‘em, you bought ‘em"), and a hearty "break a leg" from his supporters in Europe, who, frankly could care less what color rose ended up on the English royal tea set.

Edward marches into London, trundles up poor Henry ("Yippy! I’m going for a horsy ride!"), takes the crown for himself, and heads north to have a little chat with his old friend and advisor Warwick. Along the way, who should arrive on the scene with flowers and candy but younger brother George. It seems George was just "playing along" with Warwick’s scheme, pretending to support the Lancastrians, and, ha ha, wanting the throne for himself. How absurd! I mean, who ever heard of a King George?

Which brings us to Barnet. Warwick, his brother Montague, and his two favorite axe-men, Exeter and Oxford, are waiting at the upper end of Gladsmuir Heath, just north of town. Warwick knows he is no longer welcome in Europe, and without Henry the puppet king, he can’t return to London. Scotland? Get serious.
So tonight, Edward, his brothers George and Richard, along with his old friend Lord Hastings and a trussed up ex-King Henry are stumbling up the Great North road, through the dark and an unnaturally dense fog – which seems to be the only thing thicker than the plot.