oh,’ Gail said, the tone ominous.
Laura looked up and smiled. With her chin resting in both palms and her body leaning slightly forward, Gail was all attention. Laura just hoped she was listening carefully because this was one version which, although plausible, left Laura decidedly uneasy.
Just as Laura was about to begin, their meals arrived. Rearranging her note book, Laura continued between mouthfuls. ‘On the seventeenth of July, Richard appointed Sir Robert Brackenbury, Constable of the Tower with the specific task of seeing to the safekeeping of the two boys. Brackenbury was also totally loyal to Richard. He had been Treasurer of the Household in the North, working his way into Richard's confidence after years of service. He was apparently considered to be an honourable man although he also seemed incapable of seeing anything wrong in his royal master, and in fact, died with Richard at Bosworth. Brackenbury took his job seriously, no doubt realising the potential risk posed by the two Princes in the Tower.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, Richard must have realised that attempts would be made to free the boys; spirit them away to the Continent perhaps. They were a focal point for rebellion and Richard could ill afford to allow Tower security to be a casual affair. Short of ensuring that the two Princes were closely watched and surrounded by men of proven loyalty to him, Richard seemed content to let matters rest. The boys might have lived if their mother hadn't stirred up trouble, plotting against Richard and inciting rebellion. In a sense, she sealed their fate.’
‘Do you really think Richard would have let the boys live out their days in the Tower? Not much of a life?’
‘I don't think he actively sought their deaths. Keeping them out of public view as he did, he probably subscribed to the belief that, out of sight was out of mind, and hoped that his good government would eventually persuade those against him that he made the better king after all. Seems reasonable to me, but as I said, Liz Wydville just couldn't leave it alone.
‘In late July, while at Minster Lovell, Richard was informed of a plot to evacuate the Princesses from Sanctuary and send them overseas in the belief that, with the female line safely out of reach, Richard would think twice about doing away with his nephews. Elizabeth Wydville reasoned that if a marriage could be arranged for the eldest daughter, Elizabeth of York, to a suitable prince willing to fight to regain his wife's inheritance and naturally a throne too, she would find herself back in power.’
‘It's almost as if she thought her sons were already dead,’ Gail said sadly.
‘Perhaps she did. They were certainly held so securely in the Tower that they might as well have been. It would have been not only a waste of time, but dangerous too, to have attempted to rescue them so she may well have supposed them lost.
‘Anyhow, Richard sent a note to John Russell, now acting as Lord Chancellor, basically instructing him to look into what became known as the “Sanctuary Plot” and arrest any conspirators. Russell was only partially successful since the rebels fled abroad and Elizabeth and her daughters remained safely out of reach in sanctuary.
‘As Richard continued his progress north, he must have had time to think. When he reached Gloucester he sent for a John Green, another trusted retainer, and gave him specific orders, sending Green, according to More’s account, unto Sir Robert Brackenbury, Constable of the Tower, with a letter and credence that the same Sir Robert should in any wise put the two children to death.’
‘No,’ Gail said firmly, ‘I can't imagine Richard would be stupid enough to write a letter. Hope the weather's nice, oh and PS, please murder the two boys for me. That just doesn't make sense.’
Laura smiled indulgently. ‘The letter would be carefully worded and Green would carry “credence”, perhaps something personal of Richard's like a ring or something that Brackenbury would recognise. Green would advise Brackenbury of Richard's intentions verbally, nothing written. Anyhow, Brackenbury refused to do the job and Green was forced to return to Richard having failed in his mission.
‘The Duke of Buckingham was with Richard in Gloucester at this time. Sir Thomas More suggests that Richard told Buckingham of his decision to do away with the Princes and that Buckingham was appalled. He had helped Richard to gain the throne but the murder of the boys was going too far. Anyhow, they had a dreadful argument. Pleading urgent family business, Buckingham quit Richard's presence and returned to his holdings in the Welsh Marshes.
‘Richard continued his journey north, arriving at Warwick Castle on about the eighth of August. Green met him there and told him of Brackenbury's refusal. Richard should have been furious but instead, More paints a picture of him sitting on the loo muttering, “Whom shall a man trust? Those that I have brought up myself fail me, and at my commandment will do nothing for me.” Shades of Henry the Second, will no one rid me of this turbulent priest.’
Gail nodded. ‘Thomas Becket.’
‘Yes. Anyhow, a page heard all this and suggested that Sir James Tyrell might be just the man Richard was looking for. Tyrell was one of Richard's confidential servants. He had escorted Richard's mother-in-law to Middleham way back in 1473, had been knighted after the Battle of Tewkesbury, acted as Archbishop Rotherham's jailer in June and was currently Richard's Knight of the Body, which basically meant that he slept outside the bedroom door to ensure that his master was not disturbed. Totally trusted by Richard, he was still just a dog's body and knew it. More suggests that Tyrell was jealous of Ratcliffe and Catesby, two relative new comers who were enjoying rewards which he felt he deserved. Tyrell craved advancement, revenge on his rivals, a special place just for him at Richard's side and, who knows, the keys to the executive washroom and a parking spot close to the door.’
Gail's head shot up.
Laura began to laugh. ‘Sorry, thought I’d throw that in for comic relief.’
‘Get on with it,’ Gail huffed.
Laura took a sip of wine before continuing. ‘September eighth had been selected for the investiture of Richard's son, Edward of Middleham, as Prince of Wales. According to both More and Vergil, Tyrell was sent to London to collect the necessary robes and wall-hangings for the ceremony to be held in York. A perfect cover-up, if you will excuse the pun, for Tyrell's true intentions in London.
‘More's account of events suggests that Tyrell rode to London in company with a John Dighton who was Tyrell's own horsekeeper, a big, broad, strong knave. More also states that Tyrell carried a note from the King to Brackenbury, “by which he was commanded to deliver to Sir James all the keys to the Tower for one night, to the end he might there accomplish the King's pleasure”. This Brackenbury did, no doubt aware of Tyrell's intentions, but powerless to stop him.
‘More's description of the death of the two Princes is graphically detailed, which to me suggests that his tendency to poetic license exceeded his grasp of reality. But, here it is. Tyrell engaged Forrest and Dighton to help him. Around midnight, his two accomplices came into the chamber and suddenly lapped them up among the clothes, so bewrapped them hard into their mouths, that within a while smothered and stifled, their breath failing, they gave up to God their innocent souls into the joys of Heaven, leaving to their tormentors their bodies dead in the bed. Which, after that, and after long lying still, to be thoroughly dead, they laid their bodies naked out upon the bed and fetched Sir James to see them.’
Gail uttered a low groan as she leaned back in her seat, her eyes averted as she slowly shook her head. Laura watched her, concerned. This was old news to Laura. She had read a great deal on the subject, both fact and fiction, but for Gail this account was her first real introduction into the realm of actual possibility. She was not dealing with a Shakespearean play here but a concerted stab at historical fact. She sat quietly, head bowed, obviously thinking things through. Laura waited. Finally, she raised her head while at the same time drawing both hands close to the edge of the table, forming them into two tight fists.
‘Tell me something,’ she said,