The House of Lancaster

The House of  Lancaster

Author's note: This story is based on The War of the Roses. Some of the characters in this story were real people in history, however, the main character is fictional. The story is based on some element of the truth, but much of it is created by my imagination. Enjoy! :D

~~~

The House of Lancaster. The House of York. I had grown up hearing stories of a rivalry between the two Houses. My mother, Anne, used to tell me it was just the men being ‘frivolous’ and ‘blood-thirsty’, but that didn’t justify the fatalities. My father was Humphrey Stafford. He was the sixth earl of Stafford and the first duke of Buckingham. He fought in the War of the Roses, for the House of Lancaster, and I was merely a child when this unravelled into chaos. My name is Cecily Stafford, and if you’re reading this, it’s time my story has been told. 

I will always remember the morning of the Beginning. It was a Tuesday, the 22nd of May when it all started. Father had always been a bit of a hothead, and that afternoon he’d been yelling about things I couldn’t comprehend, while my brothers, sisters and I sat awkwardly at the dining table. I remember my older sister, Catherine, had placed a hand on my knee, comforting me, but also keeping me in my place. Angering Father when he was in this state would only cause more trouble. My elder sister, Margaret, who was a diligent and careful young woman, was seated on my other side, assuring me Father would calm down soon. Humphrey was nodding along earnestly, to our father’s words, as he was very interested, though, I could not imagine how one could be. Meanwhile, Henry and John were having an arm wrestle. Mother scolded them, saying it was a most inappropriate time for rough play. 

“But Mother!” John had whined, “If I don’t accept Henry’s challenge, I will be viewed as a coward, and then the other boys will scoff and turn their backs on me,” I remember prodding Catherine, asking my older sister what John’s words had meant. 

“Men and their pride,” She whispered, rolling her eyes. “The other boys will call him names and say he is cowardly to turn down a fight,”

“He’s not really fighting though, is he, Catherine?”

“No he’s not, dear, but you must understand males are complicated,” She replied, but if anything, I was more confused.

“You can say that again,” Joan, my other sister, had chuckled.

“We simply cannot deal with this a moment longer!” Father’s voice went an octave higher, more desperate. His fist slammed onto the table and we all jumped. Then, several men burst through our dining room hall’s door. 

“Duke Buckingham! There’s been a report of an attack!” My father’s anger ceased in a split of a second. His face became guarded but mostly worried. 

“When was the report sent out?”

“Only an hour ago, sir,”

“Prepare the rest of the calvary, has the King heard the news yet?”

“No Duke, your abode was the closest to our messaging station,”

“No matter. Have you sent someone on their way to his Majesty?”

“Yes sir,”

“I will prepare my men.” Catherine had taken my hand then. She began to lead me out of the dining hall, with Margaret and Joan right behind us. Our mother ushered us out as my brothers argued with my father. 

“Father, please. We’re old enough to fight!”

“I will only allow Humphrey to fight. You two are my only other sons, you must continue the Stafford name,”

“But we-” I never heard the rest of the argument as I whisked away.

“We must hide, go wherever is safest,” Mother informed us. I could hear men marching outside, and horses whinnying in panic.

“You girls must be prepared to face the fact you may never see your father again,”

“What of Henry and John, Mother?” Joan asked our mother and she frowned.  

“We all know our boys are reckless, but they are also determined and of Stafford blood. They will fight, no doubt.” No one spoke after that, and I winced at the thought of never seeing them again. I had never gotten to say goodbye. We packed our belongings, as the servants packed foods that could easily be rationed out. 

“The soldiers might not come to the Estate,” Mother said, after some time. 

“However, it's best we are prepared and move out of harm’s way. The battleground is near, so we shall be much safer at my old home,”

“Are we going to Grandfather’s house?” Margaret asked and our mother nodded. 

“Come, my daughters, we will venture to your grandparents home where it is much safer.” After making up her mind, we followed Mother to the horse and cat waiting outside. Our coachman loaded up our luggage and Margaret and Joan got in first. Catherine was still holding my hand, and my mother gently pried it off mine. 

“Catherine,” Mother spoke softly, “Let me speak to Cecily for a moment,”

“Yes, Mother.” I did not know at the time, but it would be a little while until I would see her and my other sisters again. 

“My darling Cecily, I know this is going to be hard for you to leave, but when you're older you will understand. My dear girl, as I've told your older sisters, you must remain strong. Your brothers and father are doing everything in their power to protect us. Alright?” I nodded, never feeling so small in my life, as I wished to shrink into the shadows in fear. 

“Now, I will hop into the cart first, and I'll help you get in. There is nothing to be afraid of.” However, there was. The next few seconds happened so quickly, I almost forgot, and nearly didn't include in this story. I remember I was about to take my mother’s hand, but as I began to, a gunshot rang out. Troops from the House of York had spotted movement and had shot down a tree. The horses, frightened, took off, I lost my grasp on my mother’s hand, and I was left behind. The colossal tree crashed to the ground, separating me from my family. 

“Cecily!” I think it was Margaret who cried out my name, for she never raised her voice, and this was the only time I had heard her yell. They could not go around the tree, as it blocked the only path to the Estate, and they couldn't go around our residency, as they would ride right into the battlefield. The shots continued, and I watched the horses run faster and faster. There was no chance the cart would stop. I watched it disappear out of view helplessly. Fear rose in me, and I bolted back inside. I remember slamming the door, locking everything, as all the servants had already left. I ran to the living room, going to close the drapes but I froze. I could see the whole battlegrounds from our big windows. 

I witnessed things no child should've. Men, falling off their saddles, as crimson tainted the Earth. Thick, red blood oozed out of their bodies, and the ground they fought on. I could not make out any faces, only soldiers with armour, some with red rose emblems, and some with white roses. I prayed for my brothers and father. They had to be okay. I hoped my sisters and mother would make it to my grandparent’s house safely. They had to be okay. I prayed for myself, uncontrollable tears spilling onto my cheeks, as I was not able to erase the horrors I had just witnessed. I had to be okay. Yet, I continued to watch the battle unfold. Something drew me to the way the men attacked, blocked and jousted. No woman could do that. More men fell, with bloodied and bruised faces, swords through their chest, before the enemy drew them back out. I was paralysed with fear, begging to anyone who was out there to stop. 

“Please… Mother, I'm scared! Catherine, please take my hand. Margaret, whisper to me that I'll be alright. Joan, smile at me, my favourite smile. Humphrey, Henry, John, please protect me, protect us all. Mother, Father, I do not wish to die. I am afraid. Afraid that I will never forget.”

The yelling, the gunshots, everything was so loud. 

“Please be quiet!” I had sobbed, rocking back and forth under my desk, after fleeing the living room. 

“Stop the screaming.” I pulled my blanket off my bed, wrapping it around myself. I was still cold. 

“No more. Please.” I screamed as another loud bang went off. 

“Someone! Mother, come back!” I heard a sickening thud outside, as a body dropped dead in front of my window. The man was a few hundred metres away, but I could see him twitching. Blood gushed from his side, as his eyes rolled up to his head, arms now limp. I didn't dare leave my place under the table, too afraid to close the curtains. I could no longer cry, my body was shutting down, in denial. 

“Please… Mother, I'm scared! Catherine, please take my hand. Margaret, whisper to me that I'll be alright. Joan, smile at me, my favourite smile. Humphrey, Henry, John, please protect me, protect us all. Mother, Father, I do not wish to die. I am afraid. Afraid that I will never forget.” I repeated the mantra once more, even though my words did not give me any comfort. Time passed. I do not know how long I waited. I would fear for my life when the gunfire continued, but I did not scream, only flinch. I remember running out to the bathroom with great haste and looking for food at one point, not expecting anyone to come for me. I had lost all hope.

“They have to be okay. I have to be okay.” I would remind myself with every gunshot fired until my eyes became heavy, and sleep overcame me. 

~

I jolted awake. I hadn't slept much, waking up every ten minutes because of the noise. 

“They have to be okay. I have to be-” I heard a crashing sound, which meant only one thing; people. The question was, were they a friend or a foe? I did not wait to find out. Dragging my blanket, I opened the hatch to the ladder that led upstairs to the attic. I remember slowly closing the door, as the footsteps sounded nearer. Who was in my home? Were they looking for me?

“There isn't anyone here,” A gruff voice was barely audible from downstairs. 

“Let's leave. The fighting won't go on for much longer, one side will retreat sooner or later. It will start all over again tomorrow, let’s take some silver on the way out.” The two voices disappeared, and I wasn't curious enough to find out who they were. 

“They have to be okay. I have to be okay.” I muttered sleepily to myself. Everything was a blur. How long had passed? When would someone come? Would I ever see my family again, or would I die? After a long time, the attic door’s latch opened, but I did not hear anything. Creaks were audible with every step up the ladder, but I did not hear anything. My name was called out multiple times, but once again, I did not hear. 

“Cecily. Cecily!” Someone grabbed my shoulders, shaking me roughly. 

“Do you not recognise your saviour?” The voice of my rescuer cried, and I blinked, rubbing my eyes. 

“Henry?”

“Cecily, I have come back for you,”

“Brother, you came.” I whispered, and I fell asleep, thinking it was all a dream. 

~

If you are reading this, my name is Cecily Stafford. When I was a child, I witnessed a sight no one should ever have to see. If it had not been for my older brother, I would have died in my own home. He told me our grandparents searched for me, sending men to find me, but they had never returned. They had taken our silver, and that was a good enough payment to not come back. Henry escorted me to our grandparent’s home, and I was reunited with my sisters and mother. I was informed that Humphrey, John and my father had not made it out alive. In years to come, Henry would also lose his life fighting for the House of Lancaster. 

Now, I am old and grey, writing this, and I will have to get one of the children to hide this somewhere in the Stafford Estate. It will only be a matter of time until my time is up. I often am reminded of Catherine, when my sister’s great-grandchildren take my hand, and smile big pearly beams, much like Joan’s. They tell me everything will be alright, like Margaret, and I will join my sisters, brothers and parents soon. I believe them, for they have protected me like my brothers once did. I bless those children, though they may not be mine, we are of the same blood. I am no longer afraid of Death. After seeing horrifying things, it is time for me to rest. They will be okay. I am okay. And you will too, for there is nothing to be afraid of, especially if you stay strong. 

Cecily Stafford