Instructed by Anne to remember to smile and wave, Richard was complying with effort. A little girl bravely ran out among the horses and reached up to him with a nosegay of meadowsweet and cornflowers. Genuinely touched, he bent down and said: “I thank you kindly, sweeting, but I would like my lady to have them. I pray, will you give them to her?” Flushed with pleasure from getting a word from the king, she scampered back to Anne’s litter with her gift. Anne took the bouquet with a smile, inhaled the sweet scent, and then asked one of the henchmen to lift the little girl into the litter beside her. The spontaneous gesture was greeted with a roar of approval from the Londoners. On turning to see what the fuss was about, Richard once again praised the Virgin and her mother, Saint Anne, for having given him the consummate consort.

Putting one bare foot in front of the other, Richard trod the cold, ancient flagstones of Westminster Abbey almost in a trance. Flanked by two bishops, he could see the archbishop of Canterbury and other clerics awaiting him and Anne at the end of a long tunnel of dazzlingly arrayed guests. Unlike the poor showing of nobles at Edward’s coronation, Richard’s was attended by every one in the realm, with the exception of those few who were minors. He heard the sublime voices of the choir raised in the Te Deum as if indeed they were far away in heaven, but the only thoughts crowding his brain were of how much he did not deserve this supreme honor. Aye, despite the many times he had bared his soul to his confessor and done penance for it, nothing could take away his dread of hellfire for committing a mortal sin; the guilt of Henry’s death would always suffocate him.

But there was no turning back. So he kept his eye on Bourchier and somehow reached the high altar, upon which were laid the ampulla filled with anointing oil and its accompanying spoon. As soon as Anne’s procession reached the steps, she joined her husband in kneeling on cushions, where they bowed their heads in private prayers. Anne managed to entwine her fingers in his as Cardinal Bourchier addressed the congregation.

“Sirs, I here present unto you King Richard your undoubted king: Wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage and service, Are you willing to do the same?” Richard was startled by the shout of “God save the king” from a thousand throats. He rose to acknowledge his people’s affirmation and take the coronation oath, which, at his insistence, was in English for the first time.