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It must be early August by now. Sir Thomas Grey was executed yesterday. He hath left behind his wife and nine children. Never before have I been so glad to have no issue. I shudder to think how Joan would keep Masham with children to look after. Or perhaps, if they were grown, they could help to look after her. Though I suppose that Harry shan’t allow Masham to stay in Scroop hands after this folly of mine.
O, I was foolish not to have learned from my uncle Richard’s past. Ten years past, he too was a part of a plot to dethrone a Lancaster king, and he was beheaded, as I suppose I too will be thus. It is said that Richard le Scroop didst request the headsman to deal him five blows—a remembrance for the five wounds of Christ. I will not presume to liken myself to Holy Son when my day comes.
The Earl of Cambridge stays in the cell to my left. I do believe that prison has left him addled, for he spends much time muttering to himself. He tells the walls of his plans to beg for clemency. I do not think that Harry will so merciful after we ourselves told him how all traitors must be punished. Cambridge is afraid of dying. Perhaps he fears whatsoever it is that awaits him on the other side. Half of his mutters are frantic prayers, as he tries to purge his soul of the treason he hath committed against our king Harry.
All of Heaven could not wash from me this sin, methinks, for I committed not only treason against my liege but also against a friend. Dear Hal, I do sincerely repent my crimes against thy person. If thou shouldst read this confession of mine after my certain death, thou wouldst know the truth of my hand in this revolt against you. For all the friendship and love thou mightst have once borne Henry Scroop, I do beg of thee to read this letter in its entirety.
I first heard whispers of this plot against thy person this past winter. Yet to know the cause of such a conspiracy, I asked around, as subtle as subtle can be. In February, when you decided to invade France, I was approached by one Richard of Conisburgh. Knowing me as one of thy bedfellows, he did determine that I might prove useful to his plot and, taking me into his confidence, did reveal his hope to place the Earl of March on thy throne. Richard Earl of Cambridge did then tell me of Edmund Mortimer’s better claim to the crown, being descended as he was from King Edward III’s second son. Upon my hearing of this plot and Cambridge’s plan to kill you during your France invasion, I took upon myself to insert myself into the conspiracy with the hopes of either dismantling it or talking the plotters down from killing thy royal person.
Knowing what I do now, I see that I should have instead informed you of these treasonous plots. Perhaps I feared that an open confrontation against Cambridge and his companions, or perhaps I hoped to win myself even more of the favor that thou didst so graciously bestow upon me by singlehandedly putting down a conspiracy to dethrone and murder you. It matters not now.
But as Cambridge’s plans grew, I found myself drawn more and more into them. Remembering the outrages and adventures that we did enjoy during thy princely years, I didst convince myself that it would better if someone else sat on the throne. My dear Prince Hal would then be returned to me, and all the seriousness and responsibilities that do weight upon thy kingly shoulders wouldst then rest upon someone else’s. It was foolish of me to hope so, but then, I was nothing if not a fool for thee. So I did commit myself to Cambridge’s plot, but never, I do swear, with the intention of harming you.
I am so full of regrets as I sit here, awaiting the day of my execution. Thou never shouldst have appointed me thy Treasurer of England, for that mantle fell too heavy upon my shoulders; and thou never shouldst made me a Knight of the Garter. Was it really only five years past? It feels a lifetime betwixt that time and now, as I betray all my oaths and vows and rot in this cell until you do part my head from my body, as is your privilege.
But Harry King of England, after you conquer France, as I am sure you will, willst thou remember Henry Baron Scroop of Masham as he once was, not as I am now? Willst thou remember how I accompanied your sister Philippa to Denmark for her marriage to the Danish heir? Willst thou remember how I slept a thousand nights by thy side? Willst thou remember how purely and truly I loved thee? Or willst thou remember only this misguided traitor that I have somehow become?
I am not afraid to die. Willst thou mount my head on a spike as a warning for all the other poor fools who loved thee too strongly, too rashly, too carelessly? If thou wouldst but allow my bones to be sent to my lady-wife, Joan, and take care that she, innocent as the fledgling robin, does suffer too greatly for my folly, I would gladly let thee drag me through the streets and separate my mind and body and, if you do desire, to place my head upon a spike for all the world to see.
Yours for all’s eternity,
Henry Scroop, Third Baron Scroop of Masham