you up against a wall and shoot you which would be a lot less messy, although perhaps not nearly as entertaining.’
‘Ha-ha, very funny.’
‘Come on, I’ll buy you a nice cup of coffee to help settle your nerves. There’s a place close by, I think.’
Despite its diminutive size, the kiosk which butted up against the inner portion of the south wall offered an excellent choice of both hot and cold drinks, flavoured coffees and desserts. Wooden benches, set within the recess of the wall gave them an excellent vantage point from which to view the White Tower. A perfect spot, it would seem, to discuss the horrific events which culminated in Richard’s ascension to the English throne.
Laura set her coffee cup aside while she extracted the notes from her bag. Glancing at them briefly, she looked up, straight at Gail. ‘Before we can talk about the two boys, we have to discuss Richard's seizure of the throne. We left the Story with all the principal characters in London, young Edward housed in the Tower, the Queen and her remaining children in sanctuary at Westminster. You had best hold on, because we’re about to hit some rough water.’ Laura took a deep breath and began.
‘When Richard was proclaimed Protector on the 10th of May, he was riding a wave of popularity. He was the most powerful noble in the realm and commanded the respect of his peers. Everyone was looking forward to the reign of Edward the Fifth, with Richard continuing to act as advisor in Council. In actual fact, as Mancini states, he set his thoughts on removing, or at least undermining, everything that might stand in the way of his mastering the throne.
‘Richard had two powerful Wydvilles - Rivers and Grey - safely tucked away. Next on the list was Sir Edward Wydville, who commanded the fleet. On Richard's insistence, Council denounced Wydville as an enemy of the state and ordered the fleet to return to port, while at the same time issuing a reward for his capture, dead or alive. The fleet did return, minus two ships, one carrying Sir Edward and a portion of the royal treasure, to France.’
‘And that money was used to finance Henry Tudor’s invasion, right?’ Gail said.
‘You are exactly right. By this time I think Richard was getting pissed off, because he seized the estates of Rivers, Grey, Dorset plus lesser members of the Wydville family and proceeded to redistribute the property among his supporters. This was highly illegal, but then again, it would appear that Richard wasn’t particularly bothered by legal niceties. This redistribution of Wydville wealth was meant to ensure absolute loyalty from those closest to him and men such as Buckingham, Northumberland and Howard benefited handsomely.
‘Although Hastings continued to serve as Lord Chamberlain of England and Governor of Calais, he didn’t receive anything like the goodies that Buckingham received. It seems obvious therefore that Richard realised that Hastings would not support him in a bid for the throne since he had made it abundantly clear on several occasions that his loyalty lay with young Edward, the son and heir of his good friend and former King, Edward the Fourth. It soon became apparent to Richard that Hastings was now an obstacle to his ambitions and would have to be removed.’ Laura cleared her throat suggestively.
‘Hastings,’ Gail muttered. ‘I almost forgot. Okay Laura, this is one death which I insist Richard take the blame for. Shakespeare couldn’t have been that far off the mark.’
‘He wasn’t. In fact, Shakespeare's version of the dramatic arrest and execution of Lord Hastings is both compelling and horrible and, historically speaking, fairly accurate I think. This was Richard’s kill, no question.’ Laura paused, took a sip of her coffee and then continued.
‘Here are the facts. Richard called a meeting of Council for the morning of the 13th of June - a Friday by the way - summoning Buckingham, Hastings, Bishop John Morton, Stanley, Rotherham, Lord Howard and his son Thomas to the White Tower. Shortly after nine o’clock Richard arrived, all smiles and good humour. As the story goes, he requested some strawberries from Bishop Morton's garden then left the room, leaving the others to carry on with business. He returned to the Council chamber one and a half hours later a changed man.’
‘One and a half hours?’ Gail was surprised. ‘What was he doing all that time?’
‘Screwing up his courage, I guess. I doubt if he really wanted to do Hastings an injury, but being the Political Realist he was, he had no choice. By now even the most moderate of historians agree that he was going for the throne. And time was running out. This was the thirteenth and Edward's coronation was set for the twenty-second, moved forward two days by Richard earlier.
‘What happened inside the Council chamber is pure speculation but it’s certain that Richard denounced Hastings as a traitor. He even went so far as to accuse Morton, Rotherham and Stanley of plotting with the Queen and Mistress Shore against him and his position as Protector. Actually, only plots against a king can be called treason but, again, Richard chose to ignore that fact. When Richard banged on the table, the room was filled with armed guards who had obviously anticipated the signal. Hastings, Stanley, Rotherham, and Morton were arrested on the spot. It is said that Richard told Hastings that he had better see a priest at once and confess his sins, because he wasn't going to dine until he knew his head was off. Certainly Hastings had very little time to prepare himself, perhaps minutes, as he was dragged from the White Tower outside to the Green next to the chapel and executed, probably with a sword. There was no time to get a proper block, so a piece of building timber lying nearby was used. The really tragic part is that young Edward may have seen the execution since parts of the royal apartments overlooked the Green and all the commotion might well have attracted his attention.
Gail sighed. ‘You know, I'm beginning to think that Richard was not a very nice man.’
‘You've had enough then?’ Laura suggested, sensing Gail's unease.
‘No, I want to hear it all. Let me get two more coffees.’ She jumped up. ‘Want a slice of carrot cake? It looked delicious.’
‘Sure, after what we have been talking about a slice of something seems appropriate.’
Gail groaned. ‘That’s sick Laura, very sick.’
When she returned a few minutes later she busied herself arranging their snack between them then settled down expectantly.
‘Okay?” Laura questioned. ‘Stop me though if you don't want to hear any more, but remember, try to keep everything in perspective.’
Gail just nodded her head as she concentrated on opening her little parcel of cake.
‘With all opposition in Council either dead or imprisoned and the rest scared witless, Richard turned to the next order of business; securing the younger prince, nine year old Richard, Duke of York who was still in sanctuary with his mother. When Council met on the sixteenth, Richard made it clear that the boys should be together, that Edward missed his brother's company and that it was improper to crown the King without his brother being there. Naturally, Council agreed. Archbishop Bourgchier was detailed to speak with the Queen, assuring her of the Protector's good office and loving regard. The fact that the Abbey was surrounded by Richard's men was not lost on anyone either. Fearful that sanctuary would be violated by force of arms, the Archbishop appealed to the Queen to see reason. He knew that Richard wanted the child out of sanctuary come hell or high water, so he employed every method of persuasion possible, promising anything rather than risk going back to Richard empty handed. Against all her basic instincts, the Queen was finally persuaded, entrusting the boy into the Archbishop's care with the understanding that he would be returned to his mother immediately after the coronation.
‘Needless to say, young Richard was handed over to his uncle who promptly escorted him to the Tower, where he was reunited with his brother. For a short time the two boys were happy together but Richard soon ordered them moved into more isolated apartments where they could be carefully monitored.
‘Now, one small piece of business yet. George, Duke of Clarence's son, Edward, Earl of Warwick,