Passage to Pontefract
“To be a ten-year-old King was surely the finest thing in the world. Tomorrow was the day of his coronation and the whole of London, the whole of the country, was eager to tell him how much he was loved.He had come to the Tower of London, his mother beside him, and the people had thrown garlands of flowers at him; they had shouted his name. Their loyal cheers still echoed in his ears.How they loved him! And how he loved them!‘It is the Crown they cheer,’ Simon had said. ‘It is the symbol of king...ship.’Oh no, he thought. They cheer me. They love me, because I am young and good to look on and they are tired of old men.So it seemed, for it was true that they were rapturous at the sight of him. They threw kisses to him. They called him their dear little King. He was the true King, the grandson of a great King, the son of a great Prince.‘Richard!’ they shouted. ‘Long live Richard.’His uncle John had been to see him. He was very quiet and serious and Richard did not quite know what he was thinking.‘I shall be with you at the coronation,’ he told his nephew.MoreLess
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