The Fate of Princes (21 page)

Morton rose, no mockery now, his face serious. He came and stood over me.

‘You say a Yorkist prince still lives?’

‘I do.’

‘You swear that?’

‘I do and will again.’ Morton stepped back a pace.

‘Then this is my judgement, Viscount Lovell. You will not be taken from here.’ His eyes swept round the room. ‘There is some food here, some wine, candles.’
He nodded back towards the table. ‘Even writing-materials. You will stay here immured in this chamber. Should you wish to be released, I am sure Belknap will hear your cries and we will release you on condition you tell me where this Prince is. Your estates are forfeit to the Crown. No one will be allowed in.’ I rose and edged closer to the Bishop, walking to the end of my chain, not caring when Belknap clicked the crossbow back.

‘I tell you this, Bishop. Satan will enter heaven first, before I ever talk to you again. Now take your …’ I gestured towards Belknap, ‘your dog, your mongrel, and do your worst!’ Morton shrugged.

‘So be it!’ he replied. Belknap released the chain from the wall and followed his bishop out. He kept his face constantly towards me, the crossbow raised, but I turned my back, preferring to look at the blank chamber wall. They sealed my chamber. I heard Belknap place the bricks. He must have covered them with plaster, perhaps hiding his handiwork behind some arras or tapestry. The door had always been well concealed, it would not take much work to hide it completely. No one would be allowed near the house. I know I will be dead before any of my servants ever return.

I have sat here in the darkness; the vents and cracks allow a little air but I have not been able to tell day from night; I just sit and write in the flickering light of guttering candles. I will ask for mercy. I have written the truth. I have begged God’s forgiveness and tried to forgive those who have brought me so low. I have written my confession, my story. Sometimes as the food is scarce, I sit here at this table fitfully sleeping, or remembering the past. I served a king, not a saint, but a prince of his own dark days, who did what he thought best.

I now see the picture complete, the shadows removed by the torch of truth: Richard took the throne from his
nephews only to find them sickening in the Tower. I know Richard, he would have panicked. If the boys died, he would be their murderer. He may have even suspected poison, hence their removal at the dead of night. Perhaps Richard meant to return them there, take them north to Sheriff Hutton or even send them to Margaret in Burgundy. Young Edward’s death thwarted this. In a quandary, Richard realised the two imposters in the Tower also posed a threat, though not immediately. All the Princes’ servants had been withdrawn and replaced by two relative strangers, Brackenbury and William Slaughter. God knows who these unfortunate boys were, but Edward IV and George of Clarence sired enough bastards to people a small village. Richard did not tell Buckingham but kept the secret to himself. Instead he plotted further: the two imposters were to be spirited out of the Tower by Buckingham who could never allege Richard was guilty of their murder. True, Buckingham might have seen through the sham but would he really know? First, Richard could always silence any doubts. Secondly, Buckingham had scarcely met the Princes: during Edward IV’s reign he was most conspicuous in his absence from Court. Any changes in the boys’ looks or behaviour would be explained by their imprisonment and fall from power. If Lambert Simnel could be recognised by Margaret of Burgundy as her nephew, Buckingham would accept two imposters as princes.

I thought about this carefully, for here Richard made another mistake: Buckingham didn’t really care for Richard, the Princes or, above all, anything to do with the Woodville clan. All Buckingham knew was that when he left the Tower, the two boys would soon be dead and the guilt laid at Richard’s door.

Richard, however, thought his plan had gone ahead: Brampton would never have really known whether they were Princes or not, whilst Margaret of Burgundy,
married and out of England some seventeen years ago, would hardly recognise the boys. She, too, hated the Woodvilles, preferring to see her own brother on the throne than give Elizabeth Woodville the title of Queen Mother. Richard’s tortuous mind had worked out this complex plot but he did not know other players had entered the game. Buckingham was being controlled by Beaufort and her minions.

Brackenbury, too, played his role. A man who could be totally trusted, a member of Richard’s household, a northerner, someone who did not really know the Princes. In a sense Richard’s trust in him was betrayed. Brackenbury, fearful of what Buckingham had done and wishing to protect both himself and the King, simply disposed of the bodies and, until the night before he died, stoutly maintained that the Princes had simply vanished. Richard had no choice but to accept this for he recognised his own guilt in the story. Desperately Richard tried to attempt a solution. He used me, one of his closest friends, to establish the truth. Already guilty at the death of young Edward, the King also had on his conscience the possible death or disappearance of the other two boys. In the end he came full circle. Because of the boys’ disappearance, he had to face the nightmare, the dreadful accusation, of having slain two of his own kin. Richard was trapped. Whichever way he moved, who would believe him? Poor troubled Richard! As I approach death, I wonder if he too looked for its peace in that last dreadful charge against the Tudor?

Sometimes I am back with Richard, playing in the reedy marshes outside Middleham Castle or walking with him along a corridor, arms linked, discussing some matter of state. Then there is Anne and I long for her sweet face and teasing ways. One day she will realise how Belknap poisoned her mind against me. I have given my last will and testament. Even if they break in they will not find these papers in their secret compartment.

I know death has taken up position, crouched at my elbow. He waits for me to die but I am not afraid. After the heat of the day, its troubles and strife, perhaps it’s best to yield gracefully to the silence of the coming night. I rose high in life, tasted the bitter-sweet fruits of success, but I was no traitor. I kept faith to my King and to that Prince who sat so humbly opposite me in Eastwell Church. If my death buys his life, the price has not been too high in deciding the fate of a Prince.

RICHARD III

The person of Richard III as depicted in this, Lovell’s chronicle, seems fairly accurate. Richard was no saint. He was a 15th century warlord who fought for political survival. Like his contemporaries, indeed, like many politicians, he was constantly confronted by a range of choices. He had been loyal to Edward IV but he had no illusions about the Woodvilles and considered the deposition of the two young boys was warranted. The removal of his nephew, the arrest of Hastings and others, as well as the brutal crushing of Buckingham’s rebellion are generally true. The same is true of his love for the city of York, his attempts to recapture the Tudor and his deep distrust of both the Stanleys and the Lord Northumberland, his relationship with his mother and his sister Margaret. Nevertheless, although he destroyed all opposition, he did so quite publicly and was totally loyal to those faithful to him. His mental agitation, the endowment of chanceries, the anguished prayer to St. Julian the Hospitaller, are all based on fact. The same is true of his mental state before the battle of Bosworth though even his enemies bore witness to his fighting courage and brave death. At the same time Richard was the object of a sustained propaganda campaign which would have been the envy of any modern secret service and this did not stop with his death. The brutal treatment of his corpse was only the
beginning of a continued campaign of vilification. Richard may have been a dark prince but he also had undoubted qualities both as a man and a prince.

THE STANLEYS

They had a reputation of being self-seeking and seemed to have a personal hatred and contempt for Richard. In one of his letters Lord William Stanley actually dismissed Richard as ‘Old Dick’. They were rewarded by Henry Tudor for their treachery at Bosworth Field. However, although related to the new King, even they were not too sure about the fate of the Princes. In 1495 Lord William Stanley paid for his treachery. He was executed for supporting Perkin Warbeck, who actually pretended to be the younger of the two Princes in the Tower.

WILLIAM CATESBY

A clever lawyer, a veritable peacock of a man. His will drawn up after Bosworth was as printed in Lovell’s chronicle. Catesby may well have deferred Richard’s order to execute Lord Strange in order to cultivate the Stanleys. Unfortunately they did not thank him for this, a fact Catesby alludes to in his last will and testament before he was dragged out for execution.

WILLIAM COLLINGBOURNE

One of Henry Tudor’s most assiduous spies, a gentleman from Wiltshire, he composed the famous doggerel verse and pinned it up at St. Paul’s. His brave death was as described in the chronicle.

HENRY PERCY, DUKE OF NORTHUMBERLAND

His conduct at Bosworth endeared him to no one. He was later assassinated whilst travelling through York (1489), an act of revenge for his gross betrayal of Richard III.

JACK OF NORFOLK

One of Richard’s most trusted lieutenants, a brave, courteous man. He fought like a lion at Bosworth and his death undoubtedly led to the collapse of Richard’s force. He received the famous rhyme ‘Jockey of Norfolk’ just before the battle. His son, Surrey, was grievously wounded but still had enough spirit to tell Henry Tudor that he would fight for any King crowned by Parliament even if it was a fence-post! Tudor, too, had his qualities: after a sojourn in the Tower, recovering from his wounds, Surrey was released.

SIR EDWARD BRAMPTON

A Portuguese Jew who converted to the Christian faith, and a staunch Yorkist. After Bosworth he went back to privateering. However, Perkin Warbeck, who later claimed to be Richard of York and engaged in a ten-year war against Henry, claimed to have been hidden in Sir Edward Brampton’s retinue. Brampton may well have educated this imposter in his career as the younger of the Princes.

DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM

An overweening, ambitious nobleman. He hated the Woodvilles. As a minor he had been placed in Queen Elizabeth’s household and was forced to marry one of her daughters. During the reign of Edward IV he was of little importance. Richard III, however, made the mistake of thinking that Buckingham’s hatred for the Woodvilles made him a natural ally. He co-operated most closely with Richard in the
coup d’état
in the summer of 1483: there is evidence to suggest he did ask Richard for the custody of Morton, that he may well have allowed Morton to escape as well as permitting the cunning Bishop of Ely to turn his mind against Richard. I admit there is no evidence to suggest Buckingham visited the Princes in the Tower whilst Richard went on
his progress in the summer of 1483, but he did remain in London. He would have had access to the Princes, he did meet Margaret Beaufort after his visit to the King at Gloucester and he seems to have had a hand in circulating the rumours about Richard being the assassin of his nephews. His rebellion, defeat and death are as described in Lovell’s chronicle.

LADY MARGARET BEAUFORT

In my opinion one of Richard’s most implacable and cunning of enemies, deeply pious, equally ruthless in advancing her son’s claims. She and Morton were the real source of the lies against Richard such as the murder of the Princes, and the allegations that Richard had murdered his own wife in order to marry his niece. She was in London at the time of the Princes’ disappearance. She did meet with Buckingham outside Gloucester and was implicated in his rebellion. Under Henry VII her chaplain, Christopher Urswicke, together with Cardinal Morton, ran Henry VII’s very effective network of spies. The historian Sir George Buck mentions that Edward IV may have been poisoned and claims he saw an old chronicle which alleges that the Yorkist King was murdered by a certain Countess, perhaps the Lady Margaret. She may well have had a personal hatred for Lovell for, after Bosworth, she was given Lovell’s forfeited estates.

LOUIS XI OF FRANCE, SPIDER KING OF FRANCE

His death and attempts to keep himself secure are as described in Lovell’s chronicle, even to the mention of the revolving steel towers manned by bowmen.

ANN LOVELL AND HER FATHER, LORD FITZHUGH

We know very little about Anne after the battle of Bosworth in 1485 but her father was rewarded and
given office by Henry Tudor shortly after Bosworth Field.

FRANCIS LOVELL, VISCOUNT TICHMARSH

Lovell was one of Richard’s closest friends and lieutenants and was named in the doggerel pinned on the door of St. Paul’s. However, there is some evidence that he had reservations about Richard’s seizure of the throne. In his will, Catesby makes a veiled reference to this when he writes ‘If the Lord Lovell be admitted to the King’s Grace, (i.e. Henry Tudor) he should pray for my soul’. The other reference is the offer made to Lovell, probably of a pardon and role in the Tudor’s coronation, while he was in sanctuary at Colchester. Strangely, Lovell rejected such overtures and continued to oppose Henry Tudor. He did invade England with Lincoln in 1487 and almost snatched victory at the battle of East Stoke (the place where the Irish foot-soldiers were slaughtered is still known today as ‘Red Gully’). He was last seen fleeing from the battle, riding his horse across the river Trent. In 1708 a secret chamber was unearthed in his manor at Minster Lovell. The skeleton of a man was found seated at a table on which there were a book, paper and pen.

THE DEATH OF THE PRINCES

I do not want to rehearse old arguments. The Princes were last seen in the late summer of 1483. Suffice to say that Richard had no real motive for killing them. He had already usurped their position. His innocence might account for Elizabeth Woodville’s capitulation to Richard in 1484. She must have been given some assurance that the man who had killed her brother, Earl Rivers, declared her marriage invalid and her sons bastard issue, had actually not killed her children. The most enigmatic question is ‘Why didn’t Henry Tudor, married to the Princes’ sister, carry out a formal
investigation?’ He did not. The only thing he did was have Sir James Tyrrell executed and declare that Tyrrell murdered the Princes on Richard’s orders. This is the origin of Sir Thomas More’s story which must be seen as a political caricature rather than a specific description of Richard’s reign.