no, not exactly. The peine forte et dure was the only device recognised by common law. It wasn't used as a means of torture; more a means of quasi-judicial murder, or from the victim's perspective, suicide.’
‘Oh well, that's all right then. And here I thought maybe someone was going to get hurt or something.’
Laura couldn't help but laugh. ‘The idea, you see, was that the estate of a man who died under torture could still pass to his heirs whereas if he was put on trial and subsequently convicted or signed a confession and was then executed, everything would pass to the Crown. It was preferred over starvation, since it was quicker and considered more humane. Actually it was often the victim’s family who did the pressing.’
Gail grimaced.
‘If you don't like that, there’s always the “Cell of Little Ease” or Oubliette as it was called. It was a dungeon so small that it was impossible to either stand upright or lie down. It did little to improve posture, believe me.’
Gail made a sound like a shiver, crossed her arms and backed out of the room. ‘Did any women suffer here?’
‘Yes, one I know of, during the reign of Henry the Eighth, but you don't want to know.’
‘Come on, tell me.’
Laura paused a moment, sighed then proceeded. ‘Okay, I will because her story needs to be told. She was a very brave lady, not famous or anything, but she died a horrible death rather than betray others. Anne Askew was her name and her crime was her belief in the new Protestantism. We have to remember that even though King Henry the Eighth replaced the Pope as head of the new Church of England, he was still in every sense of the word a Roman Catholic. Anne’s beliefs were heretical, and it would seem that she tried to influence Henry’s last wife, Catherine Parr. Anne was racked so savagely while they were trying to force her to name her fellow sectarians that she was unable to walk and had to be carried, strapped to a chair, to be burned at the stake in Smithfield.’
Laura wandered off a few paces to allow the enormity of such a crime sink in. A hush fell. No one disturbed them. Finally she turned and faced Gail. ‘If we decide between us that Richard ordered the murder of the two boys, that's fine. But if so he did it for all the right motives - self-preservation, for the good of strong government, for his wife and young son. He did it because he hated the Wydvilles and what they represented. He did it because he couldn’t stand by and see the throne of England ruled by such upstart commoners who had no idea of majesty. Against his supposed crimes, we have men like Henry the Eighth who tortured, maimed and murdered to satisfy a lust for power. Not one or two, but dozens - perhaps hundreds. Here were housed instruments of infinite and unspeakable terror. A legacy from the father passed on to the son and then in turn to his daughters - Bloody Mary and Elizabeth.
‘There you go again,’ Gail growled, ‘trying to absolve Richard of his crimes by suggesting that future kings and queens were even more barbaric. But, you’re forgetting one very important thing.’
‘What's that?’
‘He killed children.’
‘There’s no proof. And besides, even if he did, they were very dangerous children.’
‘But children, nevertheless.’
Gail moved away then to explore further, leaving Laura behind in deep and troubled thought. After a few minutes, Laura caught up with her on the western side, just as she threw a coin into a well.
‘I'm sorry,’ Laura sighed. ‘You're right. I’m going to have to keep everything in perspective. But I still don't believe that he killed those kids.’
Gail turned and faced Laura straight on. ‘Don't you?’
*****
Laura stretched out, luxuriating in the simple comfort of being able to sit and relax. Covent Garden spilled out around her, so she people-watched for a while through half-closed lids, seemingly unaware of Gail’s mild agitation. Suddenly she turned, focusing her attention. ‘Haven’t you had enough?’
‘No. Come on, you promised. We left the Story with Richard being proclaimed king, right? What happened then?’
Laura sighed and proceeded to extract her notes from her bag. She was tired, but now that Gail had actually seen the Tower, had developed a sense of the place, it was time to finish it. It took her a few minutes to find her place while Gail waited; a portrait of patience as she idly sipped her wine. Finally Laura began.
‘Although Richard's reign technically began on the twenty-sixth of June, it wasn't until July sixth that the actual coronation took place and what an event it was. Under the circumstances you’d think he would have opted for a small, private ceremony but it was one of the most splendid of all mediaeval coronations, right down to the cloth of gold and a mantle of purple trimmed with ermine.’
‘Well, I guess he felt he had to look the part.’
’He looked the part all right, but the Londoners weren't buying. Despite the magnificent display and the large number of nobles assembled, the atmosphere was ripe with tension and resentment. No one was about to say very much though with the Duke of Northumberland's troops just outside the gates and the city dotted with men in Richard's livery.
‘Actually, poor old Dickie started his reign at a decided disadvantage. Not only were the circumstances a subject of gossip and dissatisfaction, but quite frankly, he didn't look like a king, at least compared to his brother. Edward the Fourth was a big man, fair of face with chestnut coloured hair, a regal bearing and a winning smile. He was totally charming and made a habit of stopping and chatting with the common folk who adored him and forgave him everything. Richard had none of these qualities.
‘We know even today how important looks are for any public figure, particularly a politician. To win hearts and minds for that matter, you had to have charisma. I think Richard had it, but at a personal level, one on one, but I doubt if he was able to project himself sufficiently well to deflect the fear, suspicion and down right hatred which surrounded him. He may have seen himself as the sole legitimate heir of the House of York and the throne of England, but what did others see?
‘After the ceremony in Westminster Abbey, a huge banquet was set out in Westminster Hall. It lasted five and half hours, if you can believe it. Archbishop Bourgchier anointed and crowned Richard King of England but he didn’t attend the party afterwards. Makes you wonder what thoughts raced through his mind as he placed the crown on Richard's head. All the promises he made to Elizabeth Wydville regarding the safety of the two Princes. He must have been sick with worry, knowing the two boys were so closely guarded in the Tower.
‘There were a few other absentees at the banquet too including Richard's mother and Buckingham's wife, Katherine Wydville who was ordered by her husband to stay at home.’
‘I don't suppose Elizabeth Wydville even received an invitation.’
‘No, she was off the guest list too. A day or two after the coronation, Richard and Anne went to Greenwich Palace and then on to Windsor. The northern troops were sent home, much to the relief of the Londoners and life resumed its normal pace or at least it appeared to. Rumours regarding the fate of the two Princes persisted, however. Shortly after Richard left the city to begin his grand tour of the country, the boys ceased to be seen altogether.’
‘He killed them before he left London?’
Raising a warning finger, Laura paused. ‘Remember, no one knows for sure what happened to the Princes. Many sources have suggested that Richard had the boys murdered before he left London. Shakespeare wrote it that way but there’s evidence enough to suggest that they were still alive then. For one thing, More states that a fellow by the name of Miles Forrest was assigned to guard the two Princes shortly after Richard’s departure. Forrest was a northerner, had a criminal