The Princes in the Tower, page 2
‘There’s a big question to answer now’, I replied. ‘What happened to the sons of Edward IV?’
I had seen how asking questions changes what we know and is a key to greater understanding and important new discoveries. This was how the king had been found.
Historical enquiry is littered with the unpicking of received wisdom. Antonia Fraser helped to debunk the myth that Marie Antoinette said ‘Let them eat cake’; Virginia Rounding refuted the claim that Catherine the Great had been killed by having sexual relations with a horse; William Driver Howarth disproved that the right of ‘prima nocta’ (Droit de seigneur) existed in medieval Scotland (as depicted in the film Braveheart); and Guilhem Pépin established that the brutal massacre of 3,000 men, women and children at Limoges in 1370, believed for centuries to have been carried out by England’s Black Prince, was in fact perpetrated by French forces on their own people.13 All had asked searching questions, thrown out old mythology and started with a clean sheet. It was exactly as my Looking For Richard Project had proceeded, irrevocably changing what we know. Could this approach apply to the mystery surrounding the Princes in the Tower?
While I considered my next steps, I watched with interest The Imitation Game (2014), starring Benedict Cumberbatch, the actor who had read the evocative poem ‘Richard’ at the reburial in 2015. Loosely based on Andrew Hodges’ biography of Alan Turing, this highly acclaimed award-winning feature film retells the breaking of the Enigma code during the Second World War.
When you ask the right questions, the smallest detail can form the key to a major discovery. For Turing and his team, it was the realisation that his new ‘computer’ machine (named Christopher) and two words of German (‘Heil Hitler’) were all that was required to break the unbreakable code. It gave hope to my new search to uncover the truth about the disappearance of the sons of Edward IV. Could a small and perhaps seemingly insignificant discovery be the key to solving this most enduring of mysteries?
Philippa Langley
January 2016
1
The Missing Princes Project
A Cold-Case Investigation
Before we investigate the traditional story of the murder of the sons of King Edward IV, it is important to introduce The Missing Princes Project and to explain its methodology. Some of those involved in the project have written papers for this work, presenting archival discoveries and evidence. As a result, this publication represents the project’s first five-year report (2016–21).
It is also important, as the project’s lead, to clarify my position and role. I have studied the life and times of Richard III for nearly thirty years. It is a fascinating period of history, inspiring George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones fantasy series, and, of course, William Shakespeare’s famous play. And therein, it seems, lies the dichotomy of the two representations of Richard III: the loyal lord of the north (one interpretation),1 and the murdering psychopath. Two extremes certainly, but as we may all attest, life is many shades of grey. As a result, it was important to begin this investigation with a clean sheet. Yes, I am a Ricardian and revisionist. I hold this position on the basis of years of analysis of the contemporary source materials created during Richard’s lifetime. While much of that evidence has survived, a great deal more has been lost or destroyed since his death at the Battle of Bosworth.
However, I was clear from the outset that I had to be prepared for whatever might be uncovered. The Looking For Richard Project had sought to lay the king to rest. It was now time to investigate the final question surrounding Richard III – in the hope of making peace with the past, on both sides of the debate.
My role was that of the investigation’s operations room – its hub – part of which involved launching a new website designed to attract volunteer members, the project’s boots on the ground. Intelligence gathering would be paramount if the project was to succeed in its primary aim of unravelling the mystery surrounding the boys’ disappearance. There is considerable archival material in America and Europe, particularly France, Germany and the Low Countries. I would need help if the project was to have any hope of uncovering new and neglected evidence.
I also had to prepare for the possibility that many searches would probably prove fruitless. The ravages of time and the effects of two world wars were clearly a concern. It was also possible that after years of searching nothing new might be found. However, it was important that we were looking for the very first time.
In the summer of 1483, two children disappeared: a boy of 12 and his brother, aged 9. The enquiry into their disappearance would, therefore, fall into the category of a cold-case missing person investigation, employing the same principles and practices as a modern police enquiry. Although it was not an academic study or exercise, it would naturally involve examination of all contemporary and near contemporary material. Intelligence gathering would be key.
Cold-case procedure would introduce modern police investigative techniques to facilitate forensic analysis of existing material. This would inform the production of detailed timelines and new lines of investigation. It would also involve the application of ‘means, motive, opportunity and proclivity’ analysis to create a ‘person of interest’ enquiry and employ criminal search methodology and profiling systems. Significantly, the investigation would search for new and neglected archival material outside the main search locations and engage leading experts including police and Crime Scene Investigation (CSI) specialists.
The term ‘missing’ would be central because this was all we knew for certain based on the available evidence. The project could be nothing other than a missing person investigation, albeit one that was over 500 years old. It was not, by any stretch of the imagination, an easy task. Initial analysis revealed a Gordian knot of information that would have to be unravelled and scrutinised so that nothing was missed. Apparent red herrings seemed to litter the stories surrounding the disappearance and each would have to be analysed and investigated. The project could not afford to miss anything, no matter how seemingly insignificant. Everything was on the radar.
So, how could a cold-case investigation help move our knowledge forward? Hadn’t the events that led to the disappearance taken place too long ago for any meaningful modern analysis?
I had come to Richard’s story as a screenwriter. Screenwriters are not in the business of writing about saints but about the human condition – the complex, conflicted, flawed – the real, or the ‘as real’ as the source material might allow. As I learnt more, I discovered that the working practices of modern screenwriters are not dissimilar to those of the police and investigative agencies.
Specialists confirmed that the human element is critical to understanding and progressing an enquiry. This is achieved by first employing facts which are corroborated by the available contemporary material extracted at the location. There are three key elements: facts, as opposed to rumour, hearsay and gossip; location, proximity to the place under investigation; and contemporary, proximity to the time under investigation. Second, we extrapolate that key information in terms of what is known about the actions of those involved. People do not act one-dimensionally. For screenwriters and investigative specialists alike, actions speak louder than words. We must study what people do in order to understand what they know or believe.
After specialist consultation, I discovered that successful cold-case enquiries are based on what I termed the HRH system of investigative analysis. That is, the removal of Hindsight; Recreating the past as accurately and realistically as possible by drilling down into that moment; and the introduction of the Human element in order to more properly understand the intelligence gathered. In short, this is the analysis of who was doing what, where, when, why, with whom and with what consequences. Such a strategy provides modern police specialists and investigative agencies with the means of unlocking a historical enquiry, particularly a cold-case missing person investigation.
The advice of police investigators suggested the use of well-regarded methods such as TIE and ABC. TIE is the police acronym for ‘Trace, Investigate, Eliminate’. As witnesses to the disappearance are clearly unavailable for interview, timelines and an extensive database would reference and cross-check movements and begin to trace and eliminate individuals from the investigation. The second police acronym, ABC (Accept nothing. Believe nobody. Challenge everything), would ensure that evidence was properly corroborated.
The project would also employ Occam’s Razor: a problem-solving device in which the simplest explanation is generally correct. For many years, a key member of my local branch of the Richard III Society was prize-winning novelist David Fiddimore. Before Dave sadly passed away in June 2015, he had been the head of Customs and Excise Intelligence in Scotland, investigating crimes of piracy, smuggling (usually drug related), fraud and money laundering. At many of our meetings Dave would arrive with black eyes and on one occasion fractured ribs. He would not, he said, send his team into a situation that he himself would not face. It had been one of the reasons he was interested in Richard III; a leader who also led from the front. His years of experience also taught him one important investigative lesson – not to over-complicate a situation – Occam’s Razor worked.
I had employed the problem-solving device in my search for the king. Eighteenth- and nineteenth-century accounts of the location of the lost Greyfriars Priory in Leicester had described it as being ‘opposite St Martin’s Church’ (Leicester Cathedral). ‘Priory’ had been taken to mean the extensive precinct quarter encompassing an area equivalent today to five international football fields. I had challenged this view, believing it to mean the Priory church itself, its most important building. As a result, my mantra for the search for the king and at the 2012 dig was ‘church-road-church’. It proved accurate.
At the Battle of Bosworth commemorations in Leicestershire on Saturday, 22 August 2015, the new research initiative was announced. I was asked for my initial thoughts. Having consulted a wide range of specialist police investigators, particularly those involved in cold-case missing person enquiries, my view was simple: could the application of Occam’s Razor shed new light on the mystery? This raised an important question: a former King Edward and a former Prince Richard disappeared during the reign of Richard III, and a ‘King Edward’ and a ‘Prince Richard’ reappeared during the reign of Richard’s successor, Henry VII. This simple narrative now formed a key line of enquiry.
The Missing Princes Project set out in the summer of 2015 with three lines of investigation. This quickly developed into 111 lines of enquiry – some of which you will read about in this work.
In July 2016, at the Middleham Festival, The Missing Princes Project was formally launched. Previously, on 15 December 2015, the website went live. Within a few short hours the project secured its first eight members. In the weeks and months that followed over 300 volunteers from around the world would join. Ordinary people were prepared to investigate archives, many with specialist knowledge of palaeography (ancient writing) and Latin, others with European language skills. Members of police forces and Ministry of Defence specialists also joined, as did medieval historians and specialists across a number of fields, including input from a number of the world’s leading forensic anthropologists. It was exciting and daunting in equal measure.
The search for the truth had begun.
2
The Missing Princes
Edward V and Richard, Duke of York
We begin our investigation by scrutinising what is known about the two missing persons at the heart of our enquiry. By examining all available materials, we can construct profiles, analyse movements and consider those closest to them. This will allow us to delve back in time and open significant lines of investigation. We must recognise, however, that as they were children, contemporary references and evidence prior to their disappearance may be brief and lacking in detail.
The two missing persons at the centre of our endeavours are the sons of Edward IV of England (1442–83) – Edward (b. 1470) and Richard (b. 1473). Let us now examine what we know about both boys: their lives and movements, physical appearance and character, and those closest to them, particularly at the time of the disappearance. At this remove, the boys are believed to have disappeared in the summer of 1483 when Edward was 12 and Richard 9. It is also understood that they were last seen in the same location – the palace of the Tower of London.
Edward, Prince of Wales
Edward was born on Friday, 2 November 1470,1 at Cheneygates Mansion, home of the Abbot of Westminster, which formed part of the Abbot’s House complex adjoining Westminster Abbey. Edward’s mother, Queen Elizabeth Woodville, had taken sanctuary in the mansion with her three royal daughters (4-year-old Elizabeth, 3-year-old Mary and 18-month-old Cecily). Edward IV had been deposed and driven into exile in Burgundy by forces loyal to the Lancastrian king, Henry VI.
The baby was baptised in the abbey with the abbot and prior and Elizabeth, Lady Scrope, acting as godparents.2 On St George’s Day (Tuesday, 23 April) 1471, twelve days after Edward IV’s restoration to the throne, the king reserved a Garter stall for his son and heir, Prince Edward, at St George’s Chapel, Windsor.3
On 26 June 1471, Edward of Westminster was proclaimed Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall and Earl of Chester, and on 3 July in the Parliament chamber, the Lords Spiritual and Temporal swore an oath of allegiance to him as heir to the throne.4 Prominent among them were Thomas Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury; Robert Stillington, Bishop of Bath and Wells; Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers; William, Lord Hastings; John, Lord Howard; Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham (aged 15); and the king’s younger brothers, George, Duke of Clarence (22) and Richard, Duke of Gloucester (19). On 8 July, by King’s Patent, the rule of the prince’s household and estates, was entrusted to his Council until he reached his majority at 14.5
On Tuesday, 29 September 1472 (Michaelmas Day), Edward was created Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall and Earl of Chester. On Tuesday, 13 October, the 11-month-old prince was carried by his chamberlain, Sir Thomas Vaughan, to meet Lord Gruthuyse, a Burgundian noble who had aided Edward IV during his recent exile. Later, at the investiture of Gruthuyse as Earl of Winchester, the baby was carried by the queen and wore ‘robes of estate’. A surviving contemporary account of the prince’s clothing includes yards of velvets and silks for doublets, gowns and bonnets.6
On 27 September 1473, detailed ordinances were drawn up governing Edward’s household and daily life, and the toddler prince was taken to live at Ludlow Castle on the Welsh Marches.7 Ludlow, which had been the former childhood home of Edward IV, was a Duchy of York possession, so it seems that the decision was his father’s, who had been brought up in the Marches. The prince’s ‘Master’ and ‘governor and ruler’ was the queen’s brother, Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers.8
President of the Prince’s Council was John Alcock, Bishop of Rochester (later Bishop of Worcester). Alcock was also entrusted with the prince’s education. The Prince’s Council consisted of the queen; the Archbishop of Canterbury; the prince’s paternal uncles, the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester; Robert Stillington, Bishop of Bath and Wells; Lawrence Booth, Bishop of Durham; and (later) Edward Storey, Bishop of Carlisle, the queen’s Chancellor. Other members of the Council included the Earl of Shrewsbury, Lords Devereux and Dacre, and the prince’s maternal cousins, Sir John Fogge and Richard Haute. Due to other responsibilities and distances, many may have attended on an irregular basis, if at all, ‘whilst six of those who certainly did attend were the prince’s maternal relatives and family appointees’.9
Sir Richard Grey, second son of the queen by her first marriage to Sir John Grey of Groby and Prince Edward’s maternal half-brother, joined the Council in 1476.10 On 25 February 1483, Sir William Stanley was made the Prince’s Steward; Sir Richard Croft, his Treasurer; and Richard Haute, Controller of his Household.11
The prince’s estate in Wales, together with Chester (and Flint) and the Duchy of Cornwall comprised the largest block of land owned by the Crown. This gave the Prince’s Councillors control of an income conservatively estimated at £6,000 a year, about 10 per cent of the ordinary revenue of the king.12 The profits of the prince’s estates were paid into a coffer to which only the queen, Bishop Alcock and Earl Rivers had a key.13 Rivers, the prince’s maternal uncle, became the leading lord in the region; his personal signet seal replaced the prince’s Great Seal in authenticating the majority of princely warrants.
Prince Edward occasionally visited one or both of his parents. In May 1474, he was with the king at Windsor, and in August 1477 he was at Windsor with the queen. The prince also journeyed to Warwick to his paternal uncle, George of Clarence in 1474 and to Haverfordwest, Coventry, Chester, Shrewsbury, Worcester, Wigmore Castle and Bewdley.14 Early in 1483, the prince was due to visit Canterbury with the queen but the event was cancelled due to an outbreak of measles in the city.15 Edward also spent Christmas with his family, variously at Windsor, Woking, Eltham and Greenwich, and in 1478 attended Parliament following the Great Council (see pp. 30 and 35). It seems the young prince was well used to travelling.
In June 1475, an event of international importance took place, which the 4-year-old prince may have remembered. Edward IV embarked on an invasion of France with his brothers and appointed, as was customary, the king’s heir as ‘keeper of the realm and lieutenant in the King’s absence’. Although queen regents were not the norm in England (as they were in France), the queen would nevertheless exercise significant influence. For the thirteen weeks of the invasion, 7 July to 22 September, all government acts were witnessed in Prince Edward’s name.16 England’s nobility accompanied the king to France, including John, Lord Howard, Earl Rivers and Thomas Grey, Marquess of Dorset (the prince’s elder maternal half-brother). Prior to the invasion, on Tuesday, 18 April, at Westminster, Prince Edward was knighted and on Monday, 15 May made a Knight of the Garter.17
