The Strife of the Roses and Days of the Tudors in the West

by W. H. Hamilton Rogers

Bourchier brought the young prince to Gloucester, who received his nephew with much feigned affection,—a few days after both the young King and his brother were lodged in the Tower, never to come out again alive.

Up to this time it is probable that no one, not excepting Buckingham, really had cognizance of the ultimate designs of Gloucester, and he himself had been veiling his purpose as carefully as possible, until he saw his schemes so far matured, that success appeared in sight. And although he was gradually getting the sole power and mastery of the King and government in his own hands, still there were many obstacles to be got out of the way, and many influential men to be won over, or otherwise disposed of, before the sceptre was within his grasp.

At this juncture Buckingham comes to the front, as the undoubted agent and zealous coadjutor of Gloucester, in aiding his ultimate design, and also by apparently acquiescing in any measures, however desperate, that might lead to its fulfilment. Gloucester doubtless thoroughly estimated the unenviable character of his ally. He knew of Buckingham's hatred of the Queen-Mother and her family, and that in consequence, his allegiance to the young King was of very doubtful character, if secretly he did not equally dislike him, though he dared not shew it, and Gloucester was further aware of Buckingham's grievance at never having been possessed of that which by heirship he was entitled to, a moiety of the great Bohun estates, and which had been hitherto vested in the Crown, unjustly as he considered, and Gloucester, it is said, duly whetted his companion's hopes by the promise of the restoration of this, when seated on the throne.

Prompt action was now decided on. Widville and Grey, with their associates, were to be dispatched, and orders were sent down to Pontefract to Sir Richard Ratcliffe for that purpose, and it was further determined that Lord Hastings was to be won over if possible, if not the same fate was to be reserved for him.

Then came Gloucester's tampering with Sir Edmund Shaw, the Lord Mayor, and his brother, the truculent preacher Dr. John Shaw, and the pretences of trying to assume the illegitimacy of Edward's children, and failing that, of Edward IV. himself. Then the simulation of feigning to prepare for the young King's coronation, and the two Councils, one in Gloucester's interests, intriguing for its delay at Baynard's Castle, and the other arranging it for the King in the Tower. Stanley, in the King's Council, was assured there was mischief in Gloucester's designs, but Hastings was slow to believe such treachery, until the truth was apparent to him, when the wretched emissary, Catesby, left him for the second and last time, a betrayed and doomed man. Immediately on this followed the frightful incident in the Tower, and the murder of Hastings,—for it was nothing less,—a scene described at length elsewhere.[18] On the same day the victims at Pontefract were disposed of.

Concerning the barbarous execution of Earl Rivers and his unfortunate companions we get the following graphic picture from More,—

"They had not so much as the formality of a trial, but were brought to the scaffold on the day appointed, and being branded in general by the name of traitors, were beheaded. The Lord Rivers would fain have declared his innocence to the people, but Ratcliffe would not suffer him, lest his words should lay open the Protector's cruelty too much, and so he died in silence. Sir Thomas Vaughan would not endure his mouth to be stopped, but as he was going to the block said aloud, 'a mischief take them that expounded the prophecy, which foretold that G should destroy King Edward's children, for George, Duke of Clarence, who for that suspicion is now dead; for there still remained Richard G (i.e. Duke of Gloucester) who now I see is he that shall, and will, accomplish the prophecy, and destroy King Edward's children, and all his allies and friends, as appeareth to us this day; against whom I appeal to the high tribunal of God, for this wrongful murder and our real innocency.' Sir Richard Ratcliffe heard this with regret, and putting it off, said to him in scorn, 'You have made a goodly appeal, lay down your head.' 'Yea,' saith Sir Thomas, 'but I die in the right, take heed that you die not in the wrong;'—and having said this he was beheaded. He, with the other three, were buried naked in the Monastery of St. John the Evangelist, at Pontefract."

The citizens of London had next to be reckoned with, on whom "fear and consternation" would be sure to fall, on hearing of the sudden and barbarous death of Hastings, who was a great favourite with them, and had much influence in the city. But all things had been prepared,—the Lord Mayor and Aldermen were immediately summoned to the Tower, and Gloucester and Buckingham, who had arrayed themselves in two old rusty suits of armour, received them, and in the name of the King told them that the beheaded man had conspired to seize the King, and kill Gloucester and Buckingham, in order that he may have governed the kingdom as he pleased! That they only discovered it the same morning, and the Council deemed it necessary to execute him immediately, and fearing there were many others in the plot they had hastily harnessed themselves at once for the King's defence. A proclamation, already "cut and dried" before Hastings' death, containing similar statements, was issued in the city within two hours of that event, but it had little effect, for the people jested and said, "it was writ by the spirit of prophecy." True enough, doubtless; the civic deputation withdrew from the presence of Gloucester, quite assured of his dissimulation and the untruth of what he had stated, but told him his orders for the quietness of the city should be obeyed, being too much afraid to give other answer.

The Archbishop of York, Morton, Bishop of Ely, and Lord Stanley had been sent to the Tower, poor Jane Shore publicly disgraced, and so all was well cleared away for Gloucester's ultimate measures. The two dukes were constantly in close conclave, and the next step was to win the citizens of London over to their designs. This was not so easy a matter, but two influences were to be tried, the first by imposing on their credulity and getting a feigned assent, and the second, if necessary, to oblige them into compliance by fear.

The Lord Mayor, Sir Edward Shaw, was already won over, and his brother, the Doctor, was to begin the final proceedings. These commenced by Dr. Shaw preaching the famous—or rather infamous—sermon, on a Sunday morning, at Paul's cross; taking for his text a phrase from the fourth chapter of the Wisdom of Solomon, "Bastard slips shall take no deep root," a tissue of malign slander on the late king, his children, and their mother,—and gross adulation of Gloucester. During a special laudatory parenthesis it was intended Gloucester should, as by chance, shew himself among the people, but he happened to overstay the time, the Doctor having concluded it, and when he did appear immediately after, the preacher re-commenced the passage, and it was hoped he would have heard a call for him as the future king, but there was a complete silence, the audience were disgusted both with the preacher and the subject. This was an ominous and disquieting omen to Gloucester.