Richard III
Page 28
Richard’s northern progress, so soon after he had been crowned king, mattered. Not only did it demonstrate Richard’s own confidence in his authority that he felt able to depart from the capital; it provided him with an opportunity to celebrate the foundation of his own dynasty, in his own image and among his supporters. The identity that Richard had forged over the past decade, that of his Neville ancestry through his wife and his northern patrimony, was not to be forgotten now that he was king; his journey to Warwick and then to York, the cultural centres of his and his wife’s heritage, was meant as a homecoming, demonstrating that Richard understood where his power and influence really stemmed from. The message was simple: Richard would not forget his background. Nor could he afford to do so. Even as his progress continued, during the late summer and autumn months, back in the south there were increasing signs that Richard would soon be needing the support of his northern homelands once more.
Since Richard had assumed the throne, there had been little sight of the former King Edward and his brother, Richard, duke of York. The Great Chronicle of London recalled how ‘the children of king Edward were seen shooting & playing in the garden of the Tower by sundry times’.15 Dominic Mancini seems to have gleaned some information from one of the last men to have seen Edward V alive, his physician, John Argentine. With his stay in England almost finished, Dominic Mancini had managed to somehow make contact with Argentine, an early English humanist who had visited Italy in the 1470s and may have known Angelo Cato, Mancini’s patron. Plausibly, Mancini may have arrived in England with letters of introduction, allowing him to gain such intimate access. Mancini recalled how:
After Hastings was removed, all the attendants who had waited upon the king were debarred access to him. He and his brother were withdrawn into the inner apartments of the Tower proper, and day by day began to be seen more rarely behind the bars and windows, till at length they ceased to appear altogether. The physician Argentine, the last of his attendants whose services the king enjoyed, reported that the young king, like a victim prepared for sacrifice, sought remission of his sins by daily confession and penance, because he believed that death was facing him … I have seen many men burst forth into tears and lamentations when mention was made of him after his removal from men’s sight; and already there was a suspicion that he had been done away with. Whether, however, he has been done away with, and by what manner of death, so far I have not at all discovered.16
Before Mancini could discover the fate of Edward V and his brother, he was recalled to France by his patron, Angelo Cato. ‘These are the facts relating to the upheaval in this kingdom’, Mancini wrote from his residence at Beaugency on 1 December that same year, ‘but how he may afterwards have ruled, and yet rules, I have not sufficiently learnt.’17
Shortly before departing on his progress, on 18 July, Richard ordered that seventeen men be paid a total of £52 20d ‘for their services done to our dearest brother the late king … and to Edward Bastard late called king Edward the Vth’.18 It marked the end of what had been a small royal household surrounding King Edward. The two boys, remaining in the Tower, were now alone.
With the king away from the capital, rumours and uncertainty, particularly surrounding the fate of the former King Edward V and his brother, had begun to grow. The Crowland chronicler reported that ‘there was also a rumour that those men who had fled to sanctuaries had advised that some of the king’s daughters should leave Westminster in disguise and go overseas so that if any human fate, inside the Tower, were to befall the male children, nevertheless through the saving of the persons of the daughters the kingdom might some day return to rightful heirs’. When this was discovered, Westminster Abbey ‘and the whole neighbourhood took on the appearance of a castle and a fortress and men of the greatest strictness were appointed as keepers there … over these men, as captain and chief, was a certain John Nestfield; he watched all entrances and exits of the monastery so that no one inside could get out and no one from outside could get in without his permission’.19
On 29 July, Richard wrote from Minster Lovell, to the Chancellor, John Russell, stating:
And whereas we understand that certain persons of such as of late had taken upon them the fact of an enterprise, as we doubt not ye have heard, be attached and in ward. We desire and will that ye do make our letters of commission to such persons as by you and our council shall be advised for to sit upon them and to proceed to the due execution of our laws in that behalf. Fail ye not hereof as our perfect trust is in you.20
It seems that something was afoot. Shortly after departing from London, Richard had granted the duke of Norfolk sole power to array troops throughout the whole of the south-east and East Anglia.21 The Crowland chronicler reported how it was while Richard was on his progress that ‘while these things were happening the two sons of King Edward remained in the Tower of London with a specially appointed guard’, suggesting that the chronicler himself was confident that the two boys were still alive; however, ‘in order to release them from such captivity the people of the South and of the West of the kingdom began to murmur greatly, to form assemblies and to organise associations to this end – many were in secret, others quite open – especially those people who, because of fear, were scattered throughout franchises and sanctuaries’.22
Contemporary records do not reveal exactly what ‘enterprise’ had occurred, nor who exactly had been imprisoned and for what cause. However, the Tudor antiquary John Stowe reported that shortly after the king’s coronation ‘were taken for rebels against the king Robert Russe serjeant of London, William Davy pardoner of Hounslow, John Smith groom of King Edward’s stirrup, and Stephen Ireland wardrobe in the Tower, with many other, that they should have sent writings into the parts of Brittany to the earls of Richmond and of Pembroke, and other lords’. Stowe described how there had been rumours of a plot devised by the men who ‘were purposed to have set fire on divers parts of London, which fire, whilst men had been staunching, they would have stolen out of the Tower, the prince Edward and his brother the duke of York’. Arrested and tried at Westminster, the four men were ‘judged to death, and from thence drawn to the Tower Hill, and there beheaded, and their heads were set on London Bridge’.23
The account by Stowe may seem fanciful, especially since it is not repeated by any other contemporary chroniclers, nor do any indictments survive in the existing legal records, but the fact that some attempt was made to free the princes is also recorded by the French chronicler Thomas Basin, who reported that fifty Londoners had been involved in the enterprise, though only four men were executed, collaborating Stowe’s account. Of the four men, only Smith can be traced, being listed among the grooms of the stable, though a John Smith is also named as ‘one of the valets of our chamber’ by Edward IV in 1482, who requested that his ‘welbeloved servant’ be paid an annuity of 6d a day, an annuity that remained unpaid by 22 May 1483.24 He may also have been the ‘master Smith’ who had been discharged as one of the princes’ servants on 18 July. Importantly, the Master of the Horse, the head of the stable and Smith’s master, was John Cheyne who had refused to serve under Richard’s regime.
No record of any executions has survived beyond the later accounts by Stowe and Basin, yet Richard certainly seems to have been informed of some kind of growing unrest ahead. On 9 August, payments were made for the manufacture and transporting of twenty-three Welsh bills and thirty glaives to Warwick.25 On 13 August, John, Lord Scrope of Bolton, was given the ‘rule, guiding and oversight’ of the lordship of Gaynespark, Essex, ‘that late belonged to our rebel John Welles’.26 Tellingly, Welles was a half-brother of Margaret Beaufort, the mother of the exiled Henry Tudor, the earl of Richmond. Four days later, on 17 August, Nicholas Spicer, an usher of the royal chamber, was commanded to have 2,000 Welsh bills ‘in all haste to be purveyed and made for us’, with a royal signet warrant to summon as many blacksmiths required for the task.27 The following day, a commission of oyer et terminer was issued to enquire into various tr
easons and felonies in London and the surrounding Home Counties, headed by the king’s ‘dearest kinsman’ the duke of Buckingham.28
12
‘CONFUSION AND MOURNING’
The royal progress remained at York until 21 September, having stayed for more than three weeks, longer than any stop on Richard’s progress. From York, Richard travelled back to Pontefract Castle, where he remained for another two weeks, until 8 October. Richard continued to act as the benevolent king, making generous gifts almost daily. On 6 October, £40 was granted for the building of a church ‘of our blessed lady’ in the lordship of Barnard Castle in Durham.1 On 10 October, Richard ordered that £5 be ‘given towards the making of the glass window’ at the monastery in Carlisle.2 The same day, Thomas Wandesford, a former servant of Richard’s father, the duke of York, was granted an annuity of 60s 10d ‘towards his relief and sustenation now in his old and unwieldly age’.3
By Friday, 10 October, however, Richard suddenly decided to move southwards, travelling to Gainsborough before moving to Lincoln the following day.4 This seems to have been in response to some kind of unrest taking place in the south. On 7 October, John Howard paid his servant Lenthorpe twenty shillings to ride into Kent to pass a message to William Schell, a member of his household; three days later, Howard sent another messenger into Kent, and on 11 October a third was sent to Rochester. By now Howard seems to have been made aware of an outbreak of unrest, for he then dispatched a force of more than seventy men to Gravesend. Howard himself was rowed up the river to meet the Chancellor, Bishop Russell, while at the same time the duke sent a letter to John Paston on 10 October, warning that ‘the Kentishmen be up in the weald, and say that they will come and rob the city, which I shall let if I may’.5 The capital prepared for the worst. The merchant Richard Cely recorded payment in his accounts for ‘2 bills of Normandy’ and ‘for 4 sheaves of arrows’ under the heading ‘in October anno ‘83, the time that great watches were kept in London’.6
Then, on 22 September, Robert Morton was dismissed from the chancery. Morton was the nephew of John Morton, and he had succeeded his uncle as Master of the Rolls when John was appointed bishop of Ely. By 1479, Robert had himself been appointed archdeacon of Winchester, and in 1481 was made a canon of St George’s Chapel, Windsor. The Morton family were well connected within the city. Another family member was a second Robert, a lawyer at Lincoln’s Inn, who in 1478 had married Agnes, the widow of the alderman John Felde; Agnes was the sister of John Forster, the receiver-general of Queen Elizabeth from 1465. The connection between John Morton and John Forster suggests possibly that the initial Hastings conspiracy, or, at least, certainly those who had been connected to it, was being revived.
The same day as Morton’s dismissal, a letter was sent to the sheriff of Southampton outlawing the retaining and use of liveries in the city, citing general concern about the recent increase in the practice which caused ‘great division and jeopardy’.7 The following day, 23 September, the queen’s brother, Bishop Lionel Woodville, had his ‘worldly’ goods seized ‘without delay’, though they were to be ‘safely put under sure keeping unto ye shall know our intent and further pleasure’.8 Only the day before, Woodville had issued letters of his own to the abbot of Hyde regarding diocesan business; the matter involved a mundane transaction; however, what is important is that the letters pinpoint exactly where Woodville was residing when they were issued: Thornbury, in Gloucestershire.9 It was here that Thornbury Castle, one of the duke of Buckingham’s principal seats, was located. Woodville’s presence here suggests that he was staying at Thornbury as a guest of the duke.
This crucial link between Lionel Woodville and Buckingham is as extraordinary as it is revealing. What was Lionel doing residing at one of Buckingham’s residences? And why should Buckingham be involved in any dealings with the Woodvilles? In return for his support in seizing the throne, Richard had given Buckingham everything he could possibly want: lands, titles and office now made the duke the pre-eminent nobleman in the realm. Perhaps it was not enough for a man who was already comparing himself to Warwick the kingmaker, boasting as he handed out his livery, depicting Stafford knots, to former retainers of William Hastings, that now ‘he had as many of them as Richard Neville Earl of Warwick had formerly had’.10 The duke himself seems to have had royal pretensions. In 1474, he had obtained a heraldic decree which allowed him to display the arms of Edward III’s youngest son, Thomas of Woodstock, duke of Gloucester, as his own. It was, as observers noted, ‘a coat near to the king and of his royal blood’.11 If it is impossible to discern Buckingham’s motives, it is clear that if the duke had chosen to begin shady dealings with the Woodvilles, he had only chosen to do so suddenly, and in secret without the king’s knowledge.
Richard did not suspect a thing. Thomas More recorded how the duke of Buckingham and Richard ‘in fair manner departed’ from Gloucester, and that the king ‘both with great gifts and high behests in most loving and trusty manner departed at Gloucester’.12 Buckingham was certainly back at Brecknock Castle by mid-August, for a letter written by him ordering a buck be delivered to John Isbury ends, ‘given under our signet at our castle of Brecknock the 23rd day of August the first year of our sovereign lord king Richard the iiide’.13 The Crowland chronicler believed that Richard, ‘who never acted sleepily but incisively and with the utmost vigilance’, soon discovered that the duke was planning to turn against him: ‘this whole conspiracy was known well enough, through spies’. Yet, as late as 16 September the king had issued writs to receivers in north and south Wales ordering them to pay their accounts to the duke directly.14 Even as late as 6 October, the sheriff of Hereford was still arranging to pay an annuity of £20 to Buckingham.15
There is evidence that Richard mobilised forces against the rebellion and in particular the threat of an invasion as early as 29 September.16 For a while, Richard kept his knowledge of the conspiracy secret, deciding to ‘dissemble the matter while he assembled an army’ and to arrest Buckingham ‘by guile’. According to Vergil, Richard ‘summoned the duke to him by the most kindly letters and appointed the messenger, who carried the letters that he should persuade him with words of good omen to return to the royal court’. This Buckingham instantly refused. ‘The duke answered the messenger that, for reasons of ill health, he was unable to come at present’. Richard would not take no for an answer, and summoned Buckingham to court with ‘threatening words’: ‘Then the duke openly answered that he would not come, and at the same time prepared for war and commanded the other conspirators elsewhere to make rebellion.’17
It was not until 12 October that Richard was prepared to face the truth. He wrote from Lincoln to John Russell, thanking him ‘in our heartiest wise’ for ‘the manifold presents that your servants on your behalf have presented unto us at this our being here, which we assure you we took and accepted with good heart and so we have cause’. But Richard had not written merely to send a letter of gratitude to his Chancellor. He continued:
And whereas We by God’s grace intend briefly to advance us toward our rebel and traitor the Duke of Buckingham to resist and withstand his malicious purpose as lately by our other letters we certified you our mind more at large. For which cause it behoveth us to have our great seal here. We being informed that for such infirmities and diseases as ye sustain ne may in your person to your ease conveniently come unto us with the same. Wherefore we desire and nonetheless charge you that forthwith upon the sight of this ye saufly do the same our great seal to be sent unto us and such of the officers of our Chancery as by your wisdom shall be thought necessary.
The letter had been written in the neat and clear hand of the king’s secretary, as would be expected of an official document from the crown, entitled ‘By the King’. Yet Richard decided that, after his scribe had finished, he had more to say to impress upon the elderly Russell the need for urgent action. Instead of simply signing the document with his usual monogram in the top left-hand corner of the paper, Richard took his quill, an
d began to scribble furiously across the page, immediately after from where the letter had ended:
We most gladly ye came yourself if ye may & if ye may not we pray you not to fail but to accomplish in all diligence our said commandment to send our seal incontinent upon the sight hereof as we trust you with such as ye trust & the officers pertaining to attend with it praying you to ascertain us of your news. Here loved be God all is well & truly determined & for to resist the malice of him that had best cause to be true the duke of Buckingham the most untrue creature living whom with God’s grace we shall not be long till we will be in that parts & subdue his malice. We assure you was never false traitor better purveyed [provided] for, as bearer, Gloucester, shall show you.18
On almost exactly the same date that Richard ordered the seizure of Lionel Woodville’s goods and the removal of John Morton’s relative Robert from the chancery, on 22 September, the king also wrote to John Russell ordering for Parliament to be summoned under the Great Seal for 6 November.19 Russell began to prepare his address for the opening of the new session, making mention of great men who ‘be he never so great’ if ‘that is most to be sorrowed, by unlawful assemblies and insurrections, putting not only the people but also the nobles to extreme jeopardy and peril of life and lands … such one, what so ever he be, is but as it were a rotten member of the body’, an oblique reference to preparations for rebellion that had now been uncovered. If Richard was planning on using Parliament to bring any adversaries to heel, the formal summoning of Parliament on 22 September may have triggered preparations for rebellion to have been brought forward, or possibly forced Buckingham’s hand into declaring for the rebels.