Richard III and the Murder in the Tower (13 page)

In 1471 Hastings was made Governor of Calais, and in the immediate following years he treated with Louis XI and Charles VIII, to whom de Commines claimed to introduce him.
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His governorship of Calais was a source of contention with the queen, who had looked to have the appointment for her brother, Earl Rivers. It was part of an ongoing dispute between Hastings and Rivers that would represent a potentially influential factor in the events of summer 1483.
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Despite the antipathy of Queen Elizabeth Woodville, Hastings remained high in the king’s favour.
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Indeed, the queen had more than one reason to be unhappy with Hastings, because, as More reported, he was ‘secretly familiar with the King in wanton company.’ The later historian John Stow made this just a little more explicit when he observed this was ‘wanton doings with light women.’ As we shall see when we subsequently explore the character of Jane Shore, the sexual politics of Edward IV’s reign seem especially prominent and influential.

One of the more interesting appointments that came the way of William, Lord Hastings was the position of Master of the Mint.
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This was one of his gains derived from the fall of the Lancastrian party; in this case Hastings replaced Sir Richard Tunstall in 1461. In 1464 he appears also as Engraver of the Mint and Keeper of the Exchanges of England, Calais and Ireland, the indenture being dated 13 August 1464.
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Despite the titular appearance, the Mint and Exchanges were effectively managed by the deputy master, in this case Sir Hugh Brice,
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Sheriff of London in 1475. It was a natural appointment since Brice had been the Prime Warden of the Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths on multiple occasions and Lord Mayor later in 1485. It was around the middle of the 1460s that a degree of devaluation occurred, as the Mint had trouble attracting gold in order to produce sufficient coinage. As he had a deputy master, so Hastings had a deputy engraver. In this case it was Sir Edmund Shaa, himself an alderman and goldsmith, who himself was Mayor of London in 1482.
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Shaa held the post of deputy engraver for twenty-one years and was the brother of Friar Ralph Shaa, who preached at St Paul’s Cross on 22 June 1483 using the theme of his address ‘bastard slips shall not take root.’ The sermon was one of the turning points in Richard’s ascendency to the throne.
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Upon Edward’s successful restitution in May 1471, his original Mint officials were also restored. We have two indentures, the first dated 23 February 1472 and the second dated 3 February 1477, setting out Hastings’ conditions of mastership and remuneration. It looked very much like a position for life. But now we come to a small and presently unexplained incident. On 12 February 1483 Hastings was replaced as Master of the Mint by Bartholomew Reed. This indenture, for the first time in the fifteenth century, omits any reference to the Calais Mint. Why Hastings was deprived of this office is still difficult to ascertain. What we do know is that two months later he was fully restored to the mastership. Two months later was almost exactly the time when Edward IV died.
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Whoever Reed was, perhaps a protégé of Hastings, he resurfaced later as a master-worker in the reign of Henry VII. It is certain that control and creation of the coin of the realm conferred great power and, although Hastings probably took little part in the actual manufacture, the fact that he was deprived of this control shortly before Edward’s demise is a small mystery that may well lead to further insight into Hastings and his actions, if we can resolve it.

In his last days, Edward seems to have been anxious to mediate between these contentious parties and sought to achieve some degree of reconciliation between Hastings and prominent members of the Woodville faction, particularly Earl Rivers. In this, Edward was at best only partially successful, as subsequent events show. On the death of his friend and mentor, Hastings was left in a very precarious position. Despite the naming of his old comrade in arms, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, as Protector, the early manoeuvres of the Woodvilles to cement their power began almost immediately after the king’s death. In particular, Hastings expressed special concern over the size of the escort that Edward V proposed to bring with him from Ludlow. He was quoted as objecting in a ‘passionate demand’ whether the proposed army was intended to be used ‘against the people of England, or against the
good
Duke of Gloucester’ (emphasis mine). A compromise was reached only after Hastings threatened to decamp to Calais, an eventuality that it seemed the Woodville faction was anxious to avoid. An alternative hypothesis concerning his motivations and actions will be presented in the final chapters of this work. For now, let us briefly evaluate the existing accounts of Hastings’ death.

So much depends upon the date of the execution of Lord Hastings that I have sought to make that issue a special Appendix (Appendix II), dealing with the evidence and the more recent controversy.
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However, there is much less contention over the fact itself or the manner in which the execution occurred. Here I want to look at some of the contemporary and near-contemporary accounts, so let us start with Croyland and Mancini, whose respective accounts were written around this very time.

Most of the following accounts were as antagonistic to Richard as they were laudatory to Hastings. In particular, they praised his loyalty and fidelity to his former master, Edward IV, and his continuing allegiance to his son, Edward V. I think these observations were, at their heart, correct. For, if my hypothesis concerning the veridical nature of the pre-contract is true, then the act of preventing Richard from knowing of it was indeed one of loyalty to Edward IV and his son. Hastings, if he was actively and knowingly pursuing this course of hiding information, might well have understood it as one of continuing loyalty. However, as we shall see, what was loyalty to the father and son could certainly also be interpreted as betrayal of the brother and uncle in the person of Richard, Duke of Gloucester.

In terms of contemporary commentators, Croyland is characteristically succinct. He noted that, ‘On 13 June, the sixth day of the week, when he came to the Council in the Tower, on the authority of the protector, Lord Hastings was beheaded.’
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Mancini, by contrast, was much more discursive, but, again, as an outsider to events, he got several things wrong and for some others he provided only limited information or half-truths. Let us hear from him in his own words:

Here, Mancini failed to mention the Council meeting, perhaps being confused by the occurrence of the other, separate meeting that day at Westminster under John Russell. He also seems similarly vague as to the issue of time, and this suggests that he was not in the local environs when these events took place. Similarly, his comments on the actual action appear to be vague and ill-informed compared to More, whom, we presume, had details of this meeting from an eye-witness. Perhaps the most telling line of Mancini’s account is the last one. It is admittedly, just an opinion, and one most probably based largely on hearsay. But it is important again to note that, had Hastings been in fact plotting against Richard with Elizabeth Woodville, the Queen Dowager, why would he have been so surprised? Indeed, why, if Hastings had adopted this role traditionally attributed to him as a conspirator, why would Richard have been a friend that he would ‘never doubt.’ If a person is in a conspiracy against someone, he doubts them continually. Clearly here Mancini’s observations do not accord with the received account of Hastings and his supposed motivations at this time.

The Great Chronicle of London
provides an account that is a compromise between those given by More and Mancini. This account reads:

This account provides us with some additional detail: the usher waiting to admit the strong-arm supporters is an interesting addition, as it gives us a little more insight into the whole process. Overall, there is nothing here that contradicts Croyland, and indeed it argues greater access to those with direct knowledge of the event compared to Mancini and his account. The event itself is also described by Fabyan, who reported:

Fabyan’s account is probably derivative, but it again emphasises the main points of the sequence of events and provides us, along, with More, with the basic facts and actions which must be explained.

Up to the present point, I have tried to provide a summary of the various accounts of what happened at the Council meeting of 13 June. In the earlier chapter on Catesby we encountered More’s extensive account of this event and here I have also summarised accounts from other ‘contemporary’ commentators. These can be used to distill a common consensus account of how Hastings lost his head. In general, the contemporary accounts do not differ in any greatly significant way. Rather, they show similar stories with the degree of detail reflecting the status of each commentator as either an eyewitness, an insider or an outsider to events. But now it is time to turn from what is recorded in written accounts to a more detailed consideration of exactly how this event happened in its geographical and spatial context. Our information here is less certain and, to a degree, we must look to constructive speculation.

We do not have detailed plans of the Tower of London in 1483. The earliest survey that we have is that by Haiward and Gascoyne in 1597.
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However, the overwhelming likelihood is that the fateful Council meeting took place within the White Tower, which is the central Norman keep and is the most recognisable building within the Tower of London today (
see
front cover).

This was one of the first structures to be built by William the Conqueror and was erected on the site of some earlier Roman fortifications. As can be seen from the front cover of this book, the White Tower is not completely symmetrical in shape and also has a clear variation in the morphology of the individual towers at each corner, although three of the corner towers are basically similar. It is an extremely solid structure, having walls some 15ft at the base and 11ft wide at its upper levels. The critical point to note here is that the original wall configuration has varied little since it was first built and must have been substantively the same in 1483.

Even though the walls of the White Tower may have changed little, the flooring within it has most certainly been altered over the ages. It has been asserted that, in its original configuration, the White Tower had two main floors, together with the lower levels for storage and a dungeon. This number of floors has been increased to three. Fortunately, for our present purposes, these internal changes do not seem to have affected the location and configuration of what is purported to be the council chamber (
see also
Figures 22 and 23). This is because the council chamber is represented by authorities at the Tower as being the chamber immediately connected to the chapel of St John, which was built into the original configuration and has not changed across the intervening millennium in any meaningful manner (
see
curved extension of the White Tower on the front cover). The chapel itself stands on the nominal ‘upper’ floor of the White Tower in the south-east corner and is characterised by its curvilinear apse. By tradition, the council chamber was the large chamber that led off to the north of the chapel. I cannot show that this identification is true with anything like conclusive proof. However, this does appear to be the consensus identification of those who presently guard the Tower. Of course, even if this was established as an unequivocal identification of the chamber itself it does not necessarily mean that the 13 June meeting took place here. However, it is upon the basis of these two recognised assumptions that I wish to proceed.