Modernized excerpts from The Union of the Two Noble and Illustre Families of Lancaster and York (Hall).

Para1My kingdom also, I leave in your governance, during the minority of my children, charging you on your honors, oaths, and fidelity, made and sworn to me, so indifferently¹ to order and govern, the subjects of the same, both with justice and mercy, that the wills of malefactors² have not too large a scope, nor the hearts of the good people, by too much extremity, be neither sorrowfully daunted, nor unkindly kept under. Oh I am so sleepy, that I must make an end³, and now before you all I commend my soul to almighty God, my savior and redeemer: my body to the worms of the earth, my kingdom to the prince my son, and to you my loving friends my heart, my trust, and my whole confidence. And even with that, he fell on sleep: after divers such charitable monitions⁴ and exhortations (as the pangs and fits of his sickness would permit him) sometime to his nobility, sometime to his familiar friends, made and declared, his malady suddenly increased, and grew to so painful an extremity, that short death was sooner of him required than longer life desired, wishing rather departing out of this world than to abide the painful smart of his dolorous pangs. Wherefore, Atropos⁵ having compassion, of his continual languishing, and daily agony, disrupted and broke the thread⁶ of his natural life, the 9th day of April, in the year of our Lord, 1483 and in the fiftieth year of his bodily age, when he had reigned over this realm more in trouble than perfect quietness.

Para2The young king at the death of his father kept household at Ludlow⁷, for his father had sent him thither for justice to be done in the Marches of Wales⁸, to the end that by the authority of his presence, the wild Welshmen and evil-disposed persons should refrain from their accustomed murders and outrages. The governance of this young prince was committed to lord Anthony Woodville, earl Rivers and lord Scales, brother to the queen, a wise, hardy and honorable personage, as valiant of hands as politic of counsel and with him were associate other of the same party, and in effect everyone as he was nearer of kin unto the queen, so was he planted next about the prince. That drift by the queen seemed to be devised, whereby her blood might of right in tender youth be so planted in the princes’ favor, that afterward it should namely be eradicated out of the same.

Para3The queen being thus persuaded, sent word to the king and to her brother, that there was no cause nor need to assemble any people, and also the duke of Gloucester and other lords of his bend⁹, wrote unto the king so reverently and to the queen’s friends there so lovingly, that they nothing earthly mistrusting, brought the young king toward¹⁰ London with a sober company in great haste (but not in good speed) till he came to Northampton¹¹, and from thence he removed to Stony Stratford. On which day, the two dukes and their bend came to Northampton, feigning that Stony Stratford¹² could not lodge them all, where they found the earl Rivers, intending the next morning to have followed the king, and to be with him early in the morning. So that night, the dukes made to the earl Rivers friendly cheer, but as soon as they were departed very familiar with great courtesy in open sight and the earl Rivers lodged¹³: the two dukes with a few of their privy¹⁴ friends fell to council, wherein they spent a great part of the night, and in the dawning of the day they sent about privily to their servants in their lodgings to haste to horseback for their lords were in manner ready to ride, whereup¹⁵ all their servants were ready ere the lord Rivers’ servants were awake. Now had the dukes taken the keys of the inn into their possession, so that none should issue out¹⁶ without their consent. And over this in the highway toward Stony Stratford, they set certain of their folks that should cause and compel to return again all persons that were passing from Northampton to Stony Stratford, saying that the dukes themselves would be the first that should come to the king from Northampton: thus they bare folks in hand. But when the earl Rivers understood the gates closed and the ways on every side beset, neither his servants, neither himself suffered¹⁷ to go out, perceiving so great a thing without his knowledge, not begun for naught, comparing this present doing with the last night’s cheer, in so few hours so great a change, marvelously misliked it.

Para4For James Tyrrell devised¹⁸ that they should be murdered in their beds, and no blood shed; to the execution whereof, he appointed Myles Forrest, one of the four that before kept¹⁹ them, a fellow flesh-bred²⁰ in murder before time: and to him he joined one John Dighton, his own horse-keeper²¹, a big broad square and strong knave. Then all the other being removed from them, this Myles Forrest and John Dighton about midnight, the sely²² children lying in their beds, came into the chamber and suddenly lapped them up amongst the clothes and so bewrapped them and entangled them, keeping down by force the featherbed and pillows hard unto their mouths, that within a while they smored²³ and stifled them, and their breaths failing, they gave up to God their innocent souls into the joys of Heaven, leaving to the tormentors their bodies dead in the bed, which after the wretches perceived, first by the struggling, with the pangs of death, and after long lying still to be throughly dead, they laid the bodies out upon the bed, and fetched James Tyrrell to see them, which when he saw them perfectly dead, he caused the murderers to bury them at the stair foot, meetly deep in the ground under a great heap of stones.

Para5Then rode James Tyrrell in great haste to king Richard, and showed him all the manner of the murder, who gave him great thanks, and as men say, there made him knight, but he allowed not their burial in so vile a corner, saying, that he would have them buried in a better place because they were a king’s sons: lo the honorable courage of a king, for he would recompence a detestable murder with a solemn obsequy²⁴. Whereupon a priest of Sir Robert Brakenbury’s took them up and buried them in such a place secretly as by the occasion of his death (which was very shortly after) which only knew it, the very truth could never yet be very well and perfectly known. For some say that king Richard caused the priest to take them up and douse them in lead and to put them in a coffin full of holes hooked at the ends with two hooks of iron, and so to cast them into a place called the Black-deeps²⁵ at the Thames mouth, so that they should never rise up nor be seen again. This was ye very truth unknown by reason that the said priest died so shortly and disclosed it never to any person that would utter it.

Para6Whether this Banastre bewrayed²⁶ the duke more for fear than covetise²⁷ many men do doubt: but sure it is, that shortly after he had betrayed the duke his master, his son and heir waxed²⁸ mad and so died in a boar’s sty, his eldest daughter, of excellent beauty, was suddenly stricken with a foul leprosy, his second son very marvelously deformed of his limbs and made decrepit, his younger son in a small puddle was strangled and drowned, and he being of extreme age arraigned and found guilty of a murder and by his clergy saved²⁹. And as for his thousand pound, king Richard gave him not one farthing, saying that he which would be untrue to so good a master would be false to all other, howbeit some say he had a small office or a farm to stop his mouth³⁰ withal.

Para7After that the earl³¹ had made his humble petition, and devout prayer to almighty God, beseeching him not only to send him most prosperous wind and sure passage in his journey, but³² also effectively desiring his goodness of aid [and] comfort in his necessity and victory and supremacy over his enemies, only accompanied with 2,000 men and a small number of ships, weighed up his anchors and hauled up his sails and in the calends³³ of August he sailed from Harfleet³⁴ with so prosperous a wind that the 7th day after his departure he arrived in Wales in the evening at a port called Milford Haven³⁵, and incontinent³⁶ took land and came to a place called Dale³⁷, where he heard say that a certain company of his adversaries were laid in garrison to defend his arrival all the last winter. And the earl, at the sun rising removed to Haverfordwest³⁸, being distant from Dale not fully ten mile, where he was applauded and received of the people with great joy, and he arrived there so suddenly that he was come and entered the town at the same time when the citizens had but knowledge of his coming. Here he heard news which were as untrue as they truly were reported to him in Normandy, that Rhys ap Thomas and John Savage with body and goods were determined to aid king Richard. While he and his company were somewhat appalled of town of Pembroke that refreshed and revived their frozen hearts and daunted courages. For Arnold Butler a valiant captain, which first asking pardon for his offences before time committed against the earl of Richmond, and that obtained, declared to him that the Pembrokians were ready to serve and give their attendance³⁹ on their natural and immediate lord, Jasper earl of Pembroke.

Para8King Richard as the fame⁴⁰ went might have escaped and gotten safeguard by flying⁴¹. For when they which were next about his person saw and perceived at the first joining of the battle the soldiers faintly and nothing courageously to set on⁴² their enemies, and not only that, but also that some withdrew themselves privily⁴³ out of the press and departed. They began to suspect fraud and to smell treason, and not only exhorted but determinately advised him to save himself by flight: and when the loss of the battle was imminent and apparent, they brought to him a swift and a light horse to convey him away. He which was not ignorant of the grudge and ill-will that the common people bore toward him, casting away all hope of fortunate success and happy chance to come, answered (as men say) that on that day he would make an end of all battles or else there finish his life. Such a great audacity and such a stout stomach⁴⁴ reigned in his body, for surely he knew this to be the day in the which it should be decided and determined whether he should peaceably obtain and enjoy his kingdom during his life, or else utterly forgo and be deprived of the same, with which to much hardiness he being overcome hastily closed his helmet and entered fiercely in to the hard battle, to the intent to obtain that day a quiet reign and regiment or else to finish there his unquiet life unfortunate governance. And so this miser at the same very point had like chance and fortune, as happeneth to such which in place of right Justice honesty following their sensual appetite, love, use, and embrace, mischief, tyranny, and unthriftiness. Surely these be examples of more vehemency than man’s tongue can express, to fear and astun⁴⁵ such evil persons as will not live one hour vacant from doing and exercising cruelty mischief or outrageous living.