The King's Grave: The Discovery of Richard III's Lost Burial Place and the Clues It Holds (34 page)

Recent artillery finds at Bosworth

The boar badge found on the edge of the marsh – where Richard was probably overwhelmed by his foes

Close up of Richard’s skull showing battle wounds

The death of a king: the three weapons used to kill Richard (sword, halberd and rondel dagger)

Memorial brass of Sir John Sacheverell of Morley (Derbyshire), recording that he fought at Bosworth for Richard III

Effigy of Sir John Cheney, Salisbury Cathedral, the man who protected Henry Tudor as Richard’s last charge came so close to killing his opponent

Richard’s final moments of combat, from the carved bed lintel of Rhys ap Thomas. The king’s horse is to the left of the halberdier

APPENDIX 1

The Fate of the Princes in the Tower

Introduction

T
HE FATE OF
the two sons of Edward IV, the Princes in the Tower, is one of the great mysteries of Richard III’s reign and a controversy so powerful and compelling that it has often overshadowed all other aspects of Richard’s life and kingship. It is also an issue where the two authors disagree. Because of this – and also because the issue has still not been solved, and may never be – we have added this brief debate as an appendix to our book. This issue is complex, and in truth one could write many pages on the subject. But it is our hope that this brief discussion will be a pointer to ongoing debate and research.

And such ongoing debate and research is necessary, because there is no proof that Richard III killed the Princes in the Tower. If Richard were put before a modern law court he would almost certainly be acquitted, as we saw in Channel 4’s 1984 staging of Richard’s trial. But it is equally the job of the historian to deal with probabilities not certainties. The survival of archive and chronicle information from the late Middle Ages is frequently fragmentary and incomplete – and new material often emerges that forces us to reassess our opinions. New material may still be discovered that will cast fresh light on this particular mystery.

It is important to remember that people at the time also lacked clear knowledge of what had happened. No less a person than Sir William Stanley, who had been steward of Edward, Prince of Wales’s household in the 1480s, whose intervention was so decisive on the field of Bosworth and who subsequently became chamberlain of Henry VII’s household, was not completely sure of their fate. In 1495 Stanley was overheard saying that if the younger of Edward IV’s two sons, Richard, Duke of York, had in fact survived he would be bound to support him – words that cost him his head. At the time of Stanley’s statement the pretender Perkin Warbeck was claiming to be Richard, and this claim was attracting considerable European interest and support and, importantly, was authenticated by Richard’s sister, Margaret, Dowager Duchess of Burgundy. If Stanley could not be completely certain of the princes’ fate, neither can we.

Henry VII was surprisingly sluggish in investigating what had happened to the princes. The first parliament of the reign made no specific accusation against Richard, but rather employed inference, ‘the shedding of innocents’ blood’. It may have been difficult to ascertain their fate in the immediate aftermath of Bosworth. However, there was a cynical and self-interested reason for the lack of urgency. If Henry had declared the younger of the two princes dead, he would have been forced to release his substantial estates, as Duke of York, to the three younger sisters and co-heiresses of his queen, Elizabeth. The lands of the Duchy of York were highly lucrative and, after endowing his queen, Henry chose instead to keep the remainder and enjoy their profits.

The first specific indication of what had happened to the princes only emerged, or apparently emerged, in the last decade of Henry VII’s reign. Sir James Tyrell had been one of Richard III’s most trusted servants. He was then retained in the service of the first Tudor king, but in 1502 was convicted of treason for conspiring with members of the de la Pole family. Facing execution, Tyrell also allegedly confessed to his involvement in the murder of the Princes in the Tower. Yet strangely, details of this confession were never circulated, and the confession itself was only reported in a London chronicle some ten years after it had happened. This supposed confession formed the basis of Sir Thomas More’s investigation into the princes’ fate, and his work gives the first dramatic account of how they met their deaths. More’s verdict was clear: Richard III was guilty.

In Charles II’s reign the bones of two children were found in the Tower of London, and these bones – immediately assumed to be those of the princes – were subsequently reinterred in Westminster Abbey. They were later examined by two experts in the 1930s and as a result declared to be the remains of the princes. For some this was, and is, good enough. But modern science has advanced greatly, and it is fair to say that the majority view among historians is that this evidence is no longer conclusive. More’s testimony is shot through with inaccuracy and ambiguity. And the evidence of the bones is now seen as unsatisfactory. They could be those of the princes – but equally they could not. It is important to stress here that neither More, nor the evidence of the bones, can be dismissed. But they do not offer proof. Ongoing debate is valuable – indeed essential.

Before we commence, it is important to define more clearly what we are debating about and what we are not. There are three views on Richard III and the princes. The first is that he planned to kill them from the outset. That of course was the viewpoint of the Tudors and ultimately William Shakespeare. It is also an interpretation held by many modern historians. To complicate matters, there are two alternative versions of this view. The first, and most extreme, is that Richard was always plotting to take the throne, certainly from the death of his brother Edward IV in April 1483, if not even earlier. The adherents of this interpretation consider that Richard was motivated by ruthless ambition, his claim to the throne, advanced in June 1483, and subsequently set out in the
Titulus Regius,
being a transparent falsehood that neither Richard nor those around him really believed.

The second interpretation is that Richard was not always planning to take the throne, but the political uncertainty in the aftermath of his brother’s death, and his fears for his future once Edward V was crowned, forced his hand. This view is more moderate; both sets of adherents believe that Richard’s claim to the throne, and the pre-contract upon which it was based, was opportunist and had no real plausibility – and thus it was never taken seriously. But in both versions, Richard was compelled to kill the princes because they held the rightful claim to the throne and he did not – and these views cannot be dismissed. They were held by many people at the time, some of whom actually believed, or suspected, that Richard had killed the princes before his accession on 26 June 1483. And, as stated earlier, it is the conviction of many present historians. Yet it is not the belief of either of the co-authors of this book.

Our common ground can be simply put. We believe that Richard III’s claim to the throne should be taken seriously. We believe that he himself saw it as genuine, in other words that he felt, or came to feel, that he was rightfully king. We believe that he saw no necessity to kill the princes to establish that claim. And finally, from everything we know of Richard’s character, we believe that he would have been most reluctant to have authorized their murder.