The Duke of Buckingham now appears upon the scene as the prime factor in the events that followed. Dr. Shaw's eloquence not prevailing upon the citizens, he determined to see what effect his own reasoning would have on them. For this purpose the Lord Mayor had orders to assemble the Aldermen and all the principal citizens in the Guildhall on the Tuesday following, being the 17 June, 1483. Buckingham addressed the assemblage, and the subject of his harangue was simply an echo of the slander and adulation of what the people had heard at Paul's cross, coupled with the suggestion that Gloucester should be requested to assume the crown and government,—too weighty for a child.
The Duke finished his oration, and a silence was observed by the audience, as at the conclusion of Shaw's sermon; "everyone stood speechless." Then the Duke, surprised at the want of response, asked the Lord Mayor the reason; the answer was, the people did not well understand him. The Duke then "repeated his speech, with a little variation, and with such grace and eloquence, never was so ill a subject handled with so much oratory." Still the people remained silent.
Perplexed, the Duke again turned to the Lord Mayor, who then told him the citizens were not accustomed to hear anyone but the Recorder, and that he had better put the matter before them. Thereon Buckingham requested the Recorder, Sir Thomas Fitz-William, to address them, and he "most reluctantly managed his speech so well, as to be understood to speak the Duke's sense, and not his own." But the assembly stood silent as before,—
"They spake not a word;
But, like dumb statuas, or breathing stones,
Stared on each other, and looked deadly pale."
Then the Duke, seeing a crisis was at hand, determined to test the citizens for a definite reply, and after once more "muttering" to the Lord Mayor, turned to the assemblage and said,—
"Good friends, we came to acquaint you with a thing we needed not have done, had it not been for the affection we bear you. The Lords and Commons could have determined the matter without you, but would gladly have you join with us, which is for your honour and profit, though you do not see it, or consider it. We require you therefore to give your answer one way or another; whether you are willing as the Lords are, to have the most excellent prince the Lord Protector to be your King, or not?"[19]
Whatever may have been surmised as to the ultimate object to which preceding events were tending, this manifesto and declaration of Buckingham tore off the final shreds of the mask, that had been so thinly veiling it. At the conclusion of the question, a murmur ran through the assemblage, and just at this juncture, a number of the Protector's and Duke's servants, some city apprentices, and a rabble that had crowded into the Hall, cried out, "King Richard! King Richard!" and threw up their hats in token of joy.
Glad to seize hold of this mockery of a response, although perfectly aware of its origin, Buckingham immediately treated it as a genuine and spontaneous demonstration in favour of Gloucester, and said,—
"'Tis a goodly and joyful cry, to hear every man with one voice agree to it, and nobody say, no; since therefore, we see you all as one man inclined to have this noble prince to be your King, we shall report the matter effectually to him, that we doubt not it will be much to your advantage. We require you to attend us to-morrow with our joint petition to his Grace; as has been already agreed on between us."
"Some followers of mine own,
At lower end of the hall, hurled up their caps
And some ten voices cried, God save King Richard!
(And thus I took the vantage of those few.)"