Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne.1
When was the Fateful Decision Made?
Any comprehensive and compelling account of Richard III and his assumption of the throne of England must explain where and when he made the fateful decision to depose his young nephew, Edward V, and to become king himself.2 As I have indicated in the opening chapter, one’s opinion on this matter very much dictates how one views Richard in general, with an adverse assessment directly corresponding with earlier estimates.3 In my preceding arguments, I have proposed that the window which brackets this decision is actually a fairly small one. I believe the evidence we have supports the contention that the change in Richard’s mind from de facto Protector to aspiring monarch came on that momentous day of Friday 13 June 1483 at the Tower of London. I do not wish to assert necessarily that the whole of his decision process was played out in just one single, critical moment. However, I do think that the pivotal revelation of the precontract and the consequent understanding by Richard that his nephews were therefore ineligible to inherit, stemmed from information presented to him on the morning of that day.4 The subsequent securing of the young Richard, Duke of York from sanctuary sprang from this understanding and therefore Richard’s actions of Monday 16 June immediately following the execution of William, Lord Hastings three days earlier are eminently understandable in light of this timeline of events. The following then, is my version of the happenings of that day in the Tower of London and my associated observations upon how the present explanation of this course of events serves to address a number of issues whose previous explanations have been in my view, at best, less than satisfactory.
The Letters of 10 and 11 June 1483
While it will clearly always be possible to read different interpretations into the actions of Richard, Duke of Gloucester as Protector, I believe it is fair to say that there is no substantive documentary evidence that he overtly sought to secure the throne before the fateful meeting on 13 June. In this I think we have to agree with Wood5 that the citation of the York letter of 10 June and the Neville letter of 11 June actually represent evidence for, rather than against, this interpretation. If Richard was planning some form of coup to occur on the 13th, he clearly must have known that an appeal for troops, issued on the 10th and dispatched at the earliest possible moment on 11 June cannot have got to the north much earlier than 14 June. Further, such troops could not have reasonably been expected to have reached the capital until about the 19th, even at their best rate of progress. Again, Wood’s interpretation that the summons was most probably meant to bring aid and leverage to Richard in order to influence the decisions of the form of Parliament which was proposed to take place on the 25th is certainly a reasonable one. Such force may well have been to back his claim to retain his status as Protector.6 This is a far more plausible interpretation of these letters than seeing them as a direct part of a plot for the throne and especially as preparatory to Hastings’ demise only two days later on the 13th. This being so, it suggests that by the time Ratcliffe left for York and other parts north, Richard had no more malevolent intention than that of sustaining the status quo in terms of his own safety and security. In terms of what Richard must have known had happened to Humphrey, a previous Protector and Duke of Gloucester, this course of action would seem to be a wise precaution. The letter, in my view, provides at best marginal evidence that Richard aspired to the throne at this precise juncture and reasonably tangible evidence that he did not.
Troops in the Capital
One of the major considerations of any actions taken at this time must have thus centred around the number of troops that Richard can realistically have commanded, called upon and relied upon in and around the capital. De Blieck’s point is very well made here.7Any pre-meditated move radically to alter the on-going course of events must have been founded upon the belief that such a decision could be backed up by force if necessary. Presumably there were Woodville forces as well as those of Lord Hastings, the Duke of Buckingham and those supporters Richard had brought south with him, all in and around the capital at this time. However many London-based troops Richard actually did command at that time, he clearly thought that he needed more support and thus the 10 June summons to those of his affinity in the north. The latter appeal argues for his recognition that, at this point he did not have enough strength present. Stallworth’s fear was expressed in his letter of the 21st, where he noted: ‘Yt is thought ther schalbe xx thousand of my lord protectour and my lord of Bukyngham men in London this weeke.’ This observation was clearly rumour, but Stallworth’s general tenor suggests at least some, if not many, forces were in and around the capital already. His ruminations were confirmed, when following Hastings’ execution, ‘All be lord chamberleyne mene be come my lordys of Bokynghame menne.’ While Richard and Buckingham had men present, it was unlikely these were enough for a carefully considered, planned, pre-emptive strike. And even if this were so, would such a strike have taken the form of the actions that we know occurred on the 13th? A fully thought-out plan would, most probably, not have been primarily directed at Hastings. This being so, it furthers the idea that the events of 13 June were reactive and not pre-meditated in nature. Thus, although I do not think with the present information that we have that we can fix, with absolute certainty, the point where Richard decided to take the crown itself, we can say with some confidence that the expected course of events in respect of Edward V’s ascension to the throne very much changed that Friday morning in the Tower.
Strawberries and Treason
Our account of the fateful morning meeting that day comes primarily from Thomas More, and when we say More, I think it is fair to reinforce the probability that this version of events is fairly heavily influenced by Morton.8 Since we have then to distill our explanation through the filter of one of Richard’s most virulent enemies, I think I have to declare my bias here. In my view, Morton was a very astute and clever individual.9 In using More in part as his de facto mouthpiece, he did not seek to provide a totally false account.10 Such an effort at deception would have been too obvious to too many individuals, some of whom would still have been alive and able to comment on any evident fabrications. Providing specific detail could, such as the case of the citation of Elizabeth Lucy, be liable to lose vital credibility. Rather, I think he sought to present a fairly accurate account, but one salted with misdirection at crucial points in order to sway subsequent opinion. I think, therefore, the basic account of the Council meeting is fairly accurate, but cleverly manipulated.11
Croyland, in his post hoc interpretation of the day’s events, adjudges Richard to have been ‘shrewd’ in splitting the Council that day. However, this may well have been a simple matter of expediency. There was a country to run and a king to be crowned and, as again Stallworth noted, much business to be accomplished, especially in relation to the coronation. If Richard did plan this division with a mind to what subsequently occurred, he must have known something by the 12th and yet, apparently, not on the 11th, since he had held over Ratcliffe’s departure from the day before, as evidenced by the Neville letter. I cannot dismiss this degree of perhaps one day’s foreknowledge as at least a potential possibility. However, as I shall argue, it is the emotion which is expressed and precipitate action taken on the 13th that implies that what changed Richard’s mind happened that very morning.
Sir Thomas More reports that at the start of the Council meeting there was an affable tenor to proceedings and the Protector himself was in good spirits. But now something must have happened. It is not clear whether Richard was called away from the meeting (which is what I suspect happened) or whether he himself initiated a short break. I am inclined to the former interpretation, although I am a firm believer in strawberries. This small point about strawberries, so insignificant in itself, seems to me to have the ring of truth about it.12 It may well be that Richard used this as a ‘time-filler’ to cover what he might have anticipated would be only a short interruption. Since I believe he had not yet received the crucial revelation, I read no malevolence into the request, but one that roughly equates to the modern idea of a morning coffee break.
I think the interruption was made at the behest of Catesby. It is my thesis that on that morning, Catesby provided Richard with evidence, and perhaps indeed written evidence,13 of the existence of the pre-contract. I think this evidence came from Catesby’s direct association with Eleanor Butler through his father and step-mother,14 and his own personal relationship. I suspect the written evidence was something that he had retained since the time of the pre-contract itself, now some decades earlier; after all, he was a lawyer. Further, I think Catesby told Richard that he had not revealed this to him earlier either on the tacit or explicit orders of Lord Hastings, who at some juncture in the past had told Catesby to remain silent on the issue. I believe that this was the knowledge which Hastings had shared with his friend and former king, Edward IV. It left Richard in a terrible quandary. If the information was true, he was rightful King of England and one of his oldest allies and comrades in arms, William, Lord Hastings had kept the fact from him. It was, I believe, this betrayal by the absence of an action which left Richard in a white heat of anger. It was this anger that spilled over when he re-entered the council chamber. In the interim interval of about an hour, I think Richard had been very busy. He must have assembled a body of armed men who waited outside the chamber for the crucial signal (see Figure 24). The signal was to be a banging on the council table, at which the armed men were to take up the cry of ‘Treason.’ It was also clear that some thought had been given as to who would be arrested and detained from those present in the council chamber. Overwhelmingly angry as he was with Hastings, there were others in that room who had no love for the Protector and from whom Richard understood that he himself needed subsequent protection.
On Hastings’ Surprise
Although we read of the dark dreams and forebodings on behalf of some of those members of the Council,15 I see this as post hoc rhetoric by commentators seeking some sort of coherent account of events. I think the overwhelming impression that we get of Hastings’ reaction to the sudden happenings of that morning is one of almost complete surprise. For example, only a short time before, Croyland talks of ‘Hastings bursting with joy.’16 The empirical question which derives from this observation, and other allied commentaries, is why Hastings should be surprised? If Hastings had indeed been plotting in a conspiracy against Richard, and further if Catesby had earlier approached him about his acquiescence to Richard’s ascent of the throne and Hastings had replied in the fierce negative, why would Hastings have been so surprised by these events? The fact that he was is surely attested to by the fact that he had little or no support present within or close to the Tower, at least sufficient to provide him any personal protection. Most certainly Richard was able, fairly easily, to detain and execute him in short order, and one wonders whether this would have been possible had there been a large contingent of Hastings’ men around?
When the Protector first returned to the council chamber, it was only Hastings who had the courage to reply to Richard’s angry inquisition. This act by Hastings does not argue for a guilty conscience about nefarious and conspiratorial actions planned with others or the reticence of having denied Catesby’s overtures. Rather, I think it reflects the fact that Hastings suspected little or nothing of the coming storm. Indeed, from Hastings’ perspective, he had done nothing wrong. On the contrary, with respect to the Protector, he had helped him on several recent occasions, most notably in circumventing a Woodville dominance following Edward IV’s death. He did not then realise that his sin was fundamentally one of omission in not telling Richard of the pre-contract.17 It was, I believe, not with respect to other plotting as has always been inferred in traditional accounts of the motivation involved, but critically a betrayal by omission. Richard saw treason in his silence. I also tend to think Richard was so incandescently angry because he saw Hastings’ betrayal as that of a friend. This could well be the reason why Hastings paid the ultimate price that day while others who could certainly not have been counted as Richard’s friends were, in contrast, spared.
Of course, it could well be that Catesby orchestrated the whole situation. He could have informed Richard that Hastings was opposed to his ascendancy to the throne but this does not accord with what I have noted earlier about the suddenness of the Protector’s transformation on that morning. It does, however, argue that Catesby must have actively considered his strategy in relation to Hastings’ downfall.18 Had Richard spared Hastings, he might well have risen again to prominence and Catesby’s position as his betrayer would have been precarious indeed. If this move was part of a larger Catesby strategy to remove one of his old mentors and barriers to the greater expansion of his lands in the Midlands, it was a hazardous enterprise indeed. As we shall see, Richard would later most certainly have been very glad of the military experience of his former comrade-in-arms at Bosworth,19 and thus More’s observation that the Protector was ‘loath to lose him’20 does indeed ring true here. As I have observed, we often understand, and can sometimes even respect, an enemy whose actions seek to damage or destroy us. However, in regard to betrayal, as I have noted earlier, we rarely forgive a friend.
Crossed Plots and Withered Arms
Perhaps the most unsatisfactory facet of the traditional account of the notion of the plotting against Richard is that it links together Hastings and Edward IV’s queen dowager, Elizabeth Woodville.21 I view this reported association as classic misdirection on behalf of More22 and his shadowy sponsor, the Parson of Blokesworth. In my view, there is not one plot involving a collaboration of these two individuals but actually two separate issues here. I think each has become bound up in the single association with reference to ‘withered arms,’ and it is important to separate and explain these two distinct lines of threat. Most cleverly, More advanced a story on behalf of Richard which his readers will understand is manifestly false. Specifically, he reported:
Then said the protector, ‘Ye shall see in what wise that sorceress, and the witch of her counsel, Shore’s wife, with their affinity, have by their sorcery and witchcraft wasted my body.’ And therewith he plucked up his doublet sleeve to his elbow upon his left arm, where he showed a weerish, withered arm, and small, as it was never other. And thereupon every man’s mind sore misgave them, well perceiving that this matter was but a quarrel. For well they wist, that the queen was too wise to go about any such folly. And also if she would, yet would she of all folk least make Shore’s wife of counsel, whom of all women she most hated, as that concubine whom the king her husband had most loved. And also no man was there present, but well knew that his arm was ever such since his birth.23
However, now More can deny this assertion as a patently false claim and in so doing he can denigrate Richard accordingly.24 I suggest that Richard’s original observations were not physical but rather metaphorical in nature. The ‘withered arms’ he spoke of referred to his armorial bearings or position in society. We do know that Richard himself was keen on these identifications, having himself founded the College of Arms.25 Thus, what Richard was referring to were the separate efforts to reduce his authority and rightful position.26 In respect of the first threat by Elizabeth Woodville and those of her affiliation, the reference is to their attempt to remove or abrogate Richard’s role and power as Protector of the realm. Indeed, Richard had been aware of this effort most probably from before the time that he left York. It was Hastings himself who had, in the early stages, kept him apprised of this threat. As Protector, Richard would have had certain rights and privileges which would have accompanied this position and efforts to remove them would indeed have ‘withered his arms.’ Although the accusation in More is directed toward the queen,27 I think Richard was most probably concerned with all of the members of the Woodville affiliation, and perhaps at the forefront of his mind on that day was the ‘Pontefract Three.’ Their fate, as Richard now understood, was to be viewed as those who had plotted not just against the Protector of the realm but actually against their rightful king. It was in light of this that they were subsequent judged, an issue to which I shall return.
I am the first to admit that this reinterpretation is indeed contentious28 and appeals to symbolism rather than known fact, a strategy of which I generally have a poor opinion.29 However, it must be remembered that the alternative is to accept that Richard accused one of his erstwhile friends and one of the more powerful members of the aristocracy of physical damage through witchcraft when much of the known evidence indicates that Richard had no such deformity. While neither proposition is supported by direct evidence, it does appear to me that the invocation of witchcraft, which suggests an irrational action on behalf of the Protector, clearly provides an opportunity to slander Richard. It is one, of course, that the fabulists and playwrights have found too appealing to ignore over the years.
Now, on a totally distinct front came the inaction of Hastings, whose omission had reduced Richard, not from his role as Protector, but rather from the throne itself. Again, this silence on behalf of Hastings had threatened to exclude Richard from his now rightful position as King of England. As monarch he would have had pre-eminent rights and privileges and so Hastings’ inaction here had also truly ‘withered his arms.’ What More (and assumedly Morton) appear to have done is to take the two separate issues (the curtailment of the office of Protector and the exclusion from Richard’s place as monarch) and have tied these strands together to cause confusion. In so doing they have caused subsequent historians to seek to explain a most unlikely alliance between Hastings and Elizabeth Woodville30 (and, as we know, also Jane Shore), which is surely unsatisfactory at best and at worst simply untenable.31
To complete the misdirection, More (and Morton?) have framed these accusations by Richard as though he claimed he was physically damaged. Although he may have used the idea of arms as metaphorical representation of physical damage, it is doubtful whether he would have presented an outright falsehood for his enemies to exploit. It was a clear tactic indeed to turn a metaphor into a statement of physical reality and then to tie two actions into a single strand, so clever that it has persisted now for more than five centuries. In all of this misinformation, it is not only the queen and Hastings who were specified, but subsequent commentators have included nearly all of those who were detained that day. Most interesting and most incongruous of all is the purported association between Elizabeth Woodville and her husband’s favorite mistress, Jane Shore. It is to this element of the story that I now turn.
The Role of Jane Shore
Richard, as Duke of Gloucester and subsequently as King of England, had a record of dealing very considerately and indeed generously with almost all of the women with whom we know he had interactions.32 In contrast, Jane Shore apparently got what appears to be rather harsh treatment. It was not simply the public penance imposed upon her but it was the spoilage of her goods and holdings that reduced her personal wealth significantly and was presumably a major factor in her purported descent into the poverty which More later reports. Neither Henry VII nor his son, nor those who had previously benefited from her intercession and beneficence, apparently saw any need to alleviate her from this state. Following Mr Lynom’s proposal, Jane and he seem to have married. However, this followed her personal punishment by Richard. Was this level of retribution merely a result of her having been Edward’s mistress and having been subsequently passed perhaps from Dorset to Hastings after Edward’s death? If so, it seems harsh treatment indeed for a woman whose fate was so controlled by a series of powerful men.
I do not see Jane’s punishment as solely related to her sexual history. Thus, I cannot cast Richard in the role of prude here, especially given his knowledge of his brother’s behaviour in such matters in general and his own history of illegitimate children.33 Rather, I see in this punishment a much closer association between Jane and Hastings. In particular, I believe Richard suspected or indeed was told, again perhaps by Catesby, that Jane had been privy to the pre-contract. It is most likely that she was included as part of Hastings’ downfall, since after all her punishment proceeded from that time. However, it is also possible that Edward himself had told her of his pledge to Eleanor Butler. Thus, I see Jane Shore’s punishment as proceeding from the same anger that engulfed Hastings. However, this emotional storm obviously wore itself out, for Richard in his communication concerning Lynom provided evidence that at a later time he was willing to forgive Jane, albeit that she would be supervised by responsible family members in relation to her actions. In this light, Jane’s downfall is not a result of her sexual activities but rather her knowledge of the politics of inheritance. I think this a more reasonable explanation for the destruction of her personal wealth, although, as I have noted, her penance does imply punishment for transgressions of a sexual nature as well. More’s subsequent account seems one very much of myth and tragedy, rather than adhering to actual events. Again, it is here in creating a tragic figure for literary exploitation that we can view More’s dissertation as both art and propaganda intermixed with historical observation. That we are, today, frustrated by this amalgam reflects upon our own division of knowledge and at least some of the criticism directed at More may well be anachronistic in nature.
The Motivations of William Catesby
When we look at the motivations of William Catesby that day, I think the issue is clear. He had seen, during his formative years, how the political winds could favour an individual one moment and destroy them the next. As a strong affiliate of Hastings, perhaps he anticipated that the supremacy of Edward V would prove most harmful to his own personal prospects. It is my belief that he bided his time and picked the moment to strike very well indeed, from his point of view.34 His actions elevated him to the highest standing with the new monarch, while at the same time removed the one individual whose place and possessions stood directly in the way of his advancement.35 From Catesby’s perspective, the events of 13 June were exceptionally beneficial and he received a whole panoply of honours and rewards (see Appendix VI and Figures 36, 37 and 38). During Richard’s reign he was arguably the second most powerful man in the realm, especially so after Buckingham’s fall. Contrast this with the dearth of reward to Stillington and again we must suspect that Catesby did his new liege lord a signal service; since, when we examine it objectively, this was not a bad achievement for a relatively unknown lawyer from Northamptonshire. Indeed, I would argue that his rise was almost unprecedented.36 However, these actions and achievements rebounded on him badly, directly following the debacle of Bosworth.
I am fairly sure that Catesby himself was at Bosworth. The primary reason for this is the celerity of his execution, so quickly following the day of the battle. However, as a lawyer, I do not think he actually fought himself. Rather, I think he was put in charge of the hostage, Lord Strange, with orders to execute him if the Stanley forces attacked Richard. As Strange survived, we can assume that Catesby hedged his bets here; after all, it would have been easy to kill Strange before Richard returned to his camp, assuming the king had been triumphant. Catesby expected some reward or at least commutation of punishment for this act. He lamented this in the famous line in his will: ‘My lordis Stanley, Strange and all that blod help and pray for my soule for ye have not for my body as I trusted in you.’ However, I think he also saved Stanley on that fateful day in the Tower.37 I think he told Richard of the Hastings betrayal but told him Stanley was not directly privy to the pre-contract. It was this action by Catesby that saved Stanley that day. Again, he expected some degree of reciprocation two years later. As we know, he did not get it.
The second line in Catesby’s will reads: ‘I doubt not the King will be good and gracious Lord to them, for he is called a full gracious prince. And I never offended him by my good and Free Will; for god I take my juge I have ever loved him.’ This has always been taken as a desperate piece of ‘toadying’ on behalf of an individual on the verge of execution. However, as we understand from a recent text,38 William’s mother-in-law, Elizabeth St John, was the maternal half-sister of Margaret Beaufort, the mother of Henry VII. In such circumstances, William and Henry would have been cousins by marriage. It was perhaps this relationship to which William was appealing and perhaps relying on. Although he himself was evidently disappointed in such hopes, his son George did eventually manage a reversal of the attainder, so perhaps William was looking to the future, even at this moment of his greatest terror.
In all I should say that Catesby was unlucky in his eventual fate. As he stood alongside his king, facing the rag-tag forces of Henry Tudor, he, like Richard, must have been fairly confident of success, and in his role as king’s counsellor, he may even have been anticipating securing even more lands and possessions from those who would have forfeited them that day had Richard won. As we know, this never happened, and Catesby, like Richard, passed into myth and legend, largely shaped by Shakespeare and his dramatically and politically motivated stage production.
The Proclamation, the Parchment Roll and the Act
Following immediately upon the execution of Hastings and in the subsequent days, we seem to have a number of critical documents in circulation, and it is important to consider each of these and their potential author(s). The first is an observation of Thomas More’s and, as with all of More’s work, we have to look very carefully at what he says to try to distill any underlying truth and subsequent understanding. This story is purpose-designed to try to persuade readers that Hastings’s execution was not an impulsive act but rather a pre-meditated one. Specifically, More reported:
Now was this proclamation made within two hours after that he was beheaded, and it was so curiously indited [elaborately composed] and so fair written in parchment in so well a set hand, [professional] and therewith of itself so long a process [narration], that every child might well perceive that it was prepared before. For all the time between his death and the proclaiming could scant have sufficed unto the bare writing alone, all had it been put in paper and scribbled forth in haste at adventure. So that upon the proclaiming thereof, one that was schoolmaster of Paul’s, of chance standing by and comparing the shortness of the time with the length of the matter said unto them that stood about him ‘Here is a gay, goodly cast [trick] foul [basely] caste away for haste.’ And a merchant answered him that it was written by prophecy.39
I view this as classic More misdirection. If Richard had needed to palliate the public opinion, the heralds would have rendered a verbal oration. True, they may have read from a document, but it need not have been an elegantly written one. Of course, we have no evidence of this document, other than More’s account, written some decades later. The story with its little vignette of the schoolmaster and the merchant appears to me to be one concocted very much to distract subsequent readers from the sudden immediacy of the act. In this manner, it serves to denigrate Richard in at least two ways. In respect of this parchment, as a final and parenthetical comment here, I believe it is very dangerous process to omit evidence altogether, however contentious. Like choosing which observations one will accept and which one will discard, it is fraught with peril. However, I think the stories of the merchant and the schoolmaster, around the parchment, are largely of More’s invention or embellishment at the very least. There is, however, the further possibility that the author of the actual document, which I take to be a real proclamation, was William Catesby.40
The parchment is not the only document that appears around this time, for shortly after the week of the 13th, the Croyland continuator commented on another parchment roll (see Figure 29). Again it is important to quote the original source41 directly; thus Croyland noted that:
From that day [16 June] both these dukes showed their intentions, not in private but openly. Armed men in frightening and unheard-of numbers were summoned from the North, and Wales and from whatever other districts lay within their command and power and on the 26th day of the same month of June, Richard, the protector, claimed for himself the government of the kingdom with the name and title of king; and on the same day in the great hall of Westminster he thrust himself into the marble chair. The pretext of this intrusion and for taking possession in this way was as follows. It was put forward, by means of a supplication contained in a certain parchment roll, that King Edward’s sons were bastards, by submitting that he had been pre-contracted to a certain Lady Eleanor Boteler before he married Queen Elizabeth and, further, that the blood of his other brother, George, duke of Clarence, had been attainted so that, at the time, no certain and uncorrupt blood of the lineage of Richard, duke of York, was to be found except in the person of the said Richard, duke of Gloucester. At the end of this roll, therefore, on behalf of the lords and commonalty of the kingdom, he was besought to assume his lawful rights. It was put about then that this roll originated in the North whence so many people came to London although there was no-one who did not know the identity of the author (who was in London all the time) of such sedition and infamy.
As I have noted elsewhere, the author of this parchment roll is usually considered to have been Stillington, but it is my hypothesis that the author of this essentially ‘legal’ document was Catesby. If we dissect what Croyland says here, we can see that it nowhere contradicts the theory I have offered. In several places it actually confirms it. While it is clear that the Croyland author does not approve of this process, he makes it clear that there were specific attempts to show how Richard was exercising a legal right to the throne. It has been argued, largely on the basis of speculation, that the statements in this parchment roll did not match what was eventually included in the act which ratified Richard’s right to the throne. Unfortunately, since we do not possess this parchment roll, much as we should like to, such debates continue to be speculation until further evidence is discovered.
Why did Stillington Reveal the Pre-contract?
One of the issues that is rarely considered to any great degree is: if he did actually do so, why did the bishop reveal the pre-contract? Also, again on the supposition that it was Stillington, why wait until some time presumably around 9 June? The traditional version has it that his motivation for this was ‘revenge.’ But revenge on whom? If it was Edward IV, he was already dead and the revenge could only have been on his progeny. If it was then indirect revenge on Edward IV through his son, we must remember that Stillington was a member of Edward V’s Council and, as an old man, why would he do this to a youngster that he presumably knew to some degree and had a hand, albeit a small one, in raising? Further, Edward V had grown up largely separated from his father, and was the revenge motive enough for such a tired, sick old man?
We know Stillington was a staunch Yorkist supporter and had been all his life. If he were the source of the revelation he was acting against at least part of the family he had followed all his life. Some have said that Stillington didn’t want to see a minority rule, but Edward V was rising thirteen and would be a fully mature monarch in his own right in only a couple of years; surely this was not a viable motive? And, as Mowat has noted, why did he wait until June, with all the preparations for the coronation going ahead? It makes no sense: if he was going to tell Richard he could have told him on 5 May, the day after the entry into London, when the Duke of Gloucester could have then immediately sent for troops, rather than waiting until 10 June. The problem here is that if we view Stillington as the source, we are presented with significant problems in establishing a motive. However, such interpretational difficulties are totally obviated if Stillington changes from the source of the knowledge of the pre-contract to simply confirming that what was put to him by Richard was true. It is quite natural that Stillington’s name has become associated with this revelation, as he was the only one of the three people present at the ceremony left alive and the inference is a natural one. Further, as a prior Chancellor of England and a leading member of the clergy, it is natural to associate his authority with so weighty a matter. However, the inside ‘fixer’ of events here seems to be the Speaker, William Catesby. I suspect that it was his influence that directed matters and I suspect that this was generally quite well known, as is evidenced by Henry Tudor’s reaction immediately following Bosworth. One of the clinching factors in securing this argument is a brief assessment of who benefited following Richard’s ascension to the throne. If it was Stillington who helped Richard to the position of ultimate authority in the realm, he received precious little, if any, reward. However, if, as I have proposed, it was Catesby, the reward was, as we have seen, indeed commensurate with the service (and see Appendix VI: The Offices and Lands of William Catesby).
Betrayal as a Common Denominator
The key to understanding Richard and his actions immediately following Edward’s death is his abhorrence of betrayal. If we look at the men taken that June day in the Tower, the common denominator was their individual act of betrayal, the antithesis of loyalty.42Thomas Rotherham had already shown his hand earlier in relation to the queen and Richard had no trust there. With respect to Stanley, as Kendall notes, ‘When he [Richard] was but seventeen years old – in the spring of 1470 – he had experienced Stanley’s capacity for disloyalty, when that shift lord had been the husband of Warwick’s sister.’ The case of John Morton is also not hard to understand. Lancastrian at heart, his betrayals were multiple, changing sides whenever convenient, but a traitor to the house of York in the end. With him, Richard would have had few qualms about detainment. However, it was the betrayal of his friend and comrade Hastings that was deepest of all. I see no evident conspiracy here. Having dispatched Hastings it was a prudent move to detain those guilty of disloyalty also. Mere spatial and temporal proximity do not necessarily connote any causal connection. I think much of this putative conspiracy is created in the monograph of Sir Thomas More from whole cloth.
With respect to Rivers, Grey and Vaughan, they had plotted against Richard, as per the Stony Stratford episode: they were thus guilty of treason against the king, since Richard had been king in fact since the day Edward IV died (if the pre-contract were true). He did try to have them executed, but the Council refused and he abided by this decision – but when he knew it was treason against a king and not just betrayal of the Protector, on 13 June, he took immediate steps to have the execution warrants sent north, most probably early the following week.43
On Murdering the Relatives of Edward IV
I want to start these final considerations by bringing up a point that, in my view, is rarely given enough emphasis. Richard III did not have two nephews in the Tower at one time, he had three. Also, we know as certainly as we know anything of these times that Richard did not kill at least one of these nephews. Our certain knowledge extends to the fact that Henry VII did, in fact, execute one of these three boys. That it was Edward, Earl of Warwick, son of George, Duke of Clarence means that his demise has received much less publicity than the sons of Edward IV. However, the fact remains that one of the nephews of Richard III was certainly murdered by Henry VII who has, of course, been implicated in the murder of the other two boys also.44 Parenthetically, we should also note that Henry VII’s son, Henry VIII, executed Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury who was the daughter of George, Duke of Clarence and sister of Edward, Earl of Warwick. Thus, like his father before him, Henry VIII was also certainly involved in the extinction of Clarence’s children.
In the end, almost everyone will want to know how the present information provides the ‘solution’ to the mystery of the ‘Princes in the Tower’ I am sorry to disappoint, but it does not really address this issue.45 Until history uses much more sophisticated techniques such as concept maps and advanced simulation models, we shall only take diminishingly small steps toward the goal of solving such a mystery. Even if we are able to use such powerful tools, we need to be able to distill methods which will tell us whether the problem is, or is not, soluble. And we shall want to be able to specify what additional information it is that will allow an eventual solution and whether it will be feasible that such ‘new’ information can or will ever be distilled. All this is in the future, but for the present, we must try to provide a synopsis for what the present observations say about the persistent mystery of the two boys and their disappearance from the Tower of London.
The first point is that the sequence I have described tends to support the contention that the boys were illegitimate and thus barred from ascending the throne of England. This being so, Richard, Duke of Gloucester had no immediate need to have them murdered. Indeed, one can argue that under the circumstances they stood in almost exactly the situation as Edward, Earl of Warwick, the son of Richard’s brother, George, Duke of Clarence, who was also before Richard in line for the throne but barred because of a different impediment, that of Clarence’s attainder. It would seem that those who accuse Richard of ‘nephewcide’ must also therefore, accuse him of evident inconsistency. After all, why murder two inconvenient nephews and leave the third alive. Let me be very explicit on this point: I do not think that the proposition I have advanced in this work rules out Richard as being behind any purported murder. After all, his dispatch of William, Lord Hastings, Earl Rivers and others certainly demonstrates that Richard was a man of his times, and these were dangerous times. I do not think that we can, with any certainty, rule out the possibility of his involvement. It is just when we come down to a full and complete analysis of the existing information, there is no evidence of murder, and with the frustrating and possible exception of the ‘bones’ in Westminster Abbey, precious little evidence of any untimely death at all.
Richard and his Motivations
After all this discussion, there is one individual, quite obviously the key person in all of these events, whom we have encountered here really only in outline. The central question is: what of Richard in all these events? I think it best to judge him by his actions, certainly not by the opinion of biased commentators. When we do this we see that Richard was no paragon of untrammeled virtue, but then neither was he the cartoon tyrant that popular history has rendered him. As I have observed, he was a man of his times. With respect to the executions he approved, the four primary examples we have encountered in this text have, as I have emphasised, a common motivational factor: betrayal. Colyngbourne, as an additional example, is also a straight case of treason46 and Buckingham was executed because of his betrayal in his mysterious act of rebellion. It is doubtful if Colyngbourne sought to see the king, but we know Buckingham did apply for this privilege, which was summarily denied. If we apply these same motivational sources to the case of Hastings I think we see the consistent pattern I have observed. Hastings’ ‘betrayal’ was all the more painful because Richard saw him as an ally. Thus the celerity of his punishment was in proportion to the perceived degree of betrayal. Colyngbourne’s case took several months to mature. Buckingham’s case took several days following his capture. However, Hastings’ rate of dispatch was more in the order of mere minutes. To an extent, Hastings’ betrayal extended to Jane Shore, but as a woman and only an indirect participant Richard dealt severely but not terminally with what he must have seen as being a betrayal of his brother and, indirectly, of himself. The rapidity of the execution of Hastings argues strongly for an act committed in the heat of anger. I am persuaded that Richard regretted his action, and especially two years later on the road to Bosworth where the old warrior Hastings may have helped tip the balance of the battle.
It is a demonstrable fact that Richard could strike for the purpose of political expediency. The events of Stony Stratford show this clearly. Arguably an act of self-defence in the grander scheme of things, Richard was quick to dispatch those who sought his destruction. With respect to the princes, I think it is a question of whether Richard saw them more as his brother’s sons or as the queen’s Woodville heirs. I tend to think the former. Betrayal was so wounding to Richard because he himself was so loyal. To him, his motto was not simply words but rather a principle by which to live. He had been fiercely loyal to his eldest brother, following him into exile and even siding with him against his other brother George, Duke of Clarence in a direct family dispute. This, despite being closer to George during his formative years. His loyalty to Edward never swerved in life and I think, as a man of this principle, he would have distained to harm his brother’s sons in death. I think he would have thought it simply below him. However, as rightful king, of political experience he would have been worried about factiousness and my best present estimate is that he would have quietly sent them out of harm’s way. I think Richard was rather straight-laced, compared at least to his partying brother. The somewhat dour northerner may well have been relatively unpopular in the more sophisticated south, a propensity that continues to the present day.47 Despite all that occurred, I think Richard still viewed his nephews as a family responsibility and would have, as far as possible, protected them. I think the reason that the subsequent Tudor regime lived in a state of fear, and the reason Elizabeth Woodville eventually reconciled herself to Richard, was that they both knew this fact.