Bosworth and Beyond
Throughout the short reign of Richard III, William Catesby did very well. Indeed, the epitome of his power was, if we are to believe the Croyland Chronicler, expressed most clearly in the matter of Richard’s potential wedding with his niece, Elizabeth of York. Sadly, Richard had lost his son and legitimate heir, Edward Plantagenet, who died on 9 April 1484. To pile further tragedy on an already crippling loss, Richard’s wife, Anne Neville, died on 16 March 1485. Despite Richard’s personal grief, such circumstances must have inevitably brought into question the issue of succession. Croyland suggests that Richard considered marrying his own niece. It is worth reading this allegation in his own words:
Eventually the king’s plan and his intention to marry Elizabeth, his close blood-relation, was related to some who were opposed to it and, after the council had been summoned, the king was compelled to make his excuses at length saying that such a thing had never entered his mind. There were some at that council who knew well enough that the contrary was true. Those who were most strongly against this marriage and whose wills the king scarcely ever dared to oppose were in fact Sir Richard Ratcliffe and William Catesby, squire of the body. These men told the king, to his face, that if he did not deny any such purpose and did not counter it by public declaration before the mayor and commonalty of the city of London, the northerners, in whom he placed the greatest trust, would all rise against him, charging him with causing the death of the queen, the daughter and one of the heirs of the earl of Warwick and through whom he had obtained his first honour, in order to complete his incestuous association with his near kinswoman, to the offence of God. In addition they brought in over a dozen doctors of theology who asserted that the Pope had no power of dispensation over that degree of consanguinity. It was thought by many that these men and others like them put so many obstacles in the way through fear that if the said Elizabeth attained the rank and dignity of queen it might be in her power, sometime, to avenge the death of her uncle, Earl Anthony and of her brother, Richard, upon those who had been the principal counselors in the affair. Shortly before Easter, therefore, the king took his stand in the great hall at St John’s [The Hospital of St John of Jerusalem] in the presence of the mayor and the citizens of London and in a clear, loud voice carried out fully the advice to make a denial of this kind – as many people believed, more by the will of these counselors than by his own.61
This story is interesting for a number of reasons. For us here, it argues that Catesby had grown powerful indeed. If he and Ratcliffe were such that they were individuals ‘whose wills the king scarcely ever dared to oppose’ then the Northamptonshire lawyer had risen high indeed. The second dimension of this commentary implies that Ratcliffe and Catesby (among others) opposed the match because they feared that as queen, Elizabeth of York might seek revenge on them for the death of her relations. However, for Catesby, such a fear would surely have been largely groundless because at the time Elizabeth of York’s uncle and step-brother were condemned, Catesby was yet to join the affinity of Richard III. It is true that Ratcliffe may have been concerned, and, as his relation, Catesby may have feared for him, but what I see here is something more like rumour elevated beyond its actuality. It seems somewhat unlikely that Richard would have sought to marry his niece and the rumour may have arisen as a result of the actions of Henry Tudor, who, in promising to marry Elizabeth himself, was trying to garner support within the realm. The political view would have had Richard’s marriage to Elizabeth ‘block’ this manoeuvre by Tudor. However, it seems more probable that Richard never had such an intention and his eventual agreement to issue a public statement of denial to that effect may well have been urged by his advisors who saw him in jeopardy of losing vital popular support because of this gossip. It is apparent that the political rumour mill is not an invention of the modern media but rather an age-old human institution in which gossip is often purported to be fact; that Catesby and others advised Richard to deny this in public is not at all unlikely. Modern poitical campaign managers direct their candidates in a similar manner even today. If he did so, it does reinforce Catesby’s power and position. However, we must be careful in giving credence to stories that so clearly are meant to disparage.
Several commentators have suggested that Catesby must have engendered a degree of envy and even hatred as he went on this meteoric rise to the very pinnacle of society, and indeed this jealousy might well have occurred independently of Catesby’s apparently avaricious actions. The end for William Catesby came quickly and tragically, immediately following Richard’s own fall on the battlefield at Bosworth. It is one of Shakespeare’s most quoted lines, and is often incorrectly articulated as, ‘The first thing we should do is kill all lawyers.’62 Although Shakespeare used the line in a different context, we cannot help but think of the lawyer Catesby and his immediate dispatch upon the ascendancy of the throne by Henry VII as perhaps the original stimulus for this thought. What we know about the battle traditionally referred to as Bosworth Field is lamentably little,63 although recent archeological efforts promise to provide us with greater insight. Apparently, the battle itself was of a relatively short, two-hour duration, especially in comparison with some of its peers like Towton. During this interval, the Duke of Norfolk lost his life, a number of other notables were killed and King Richard himself ‘died manfully in the press of his enemies.’ The preponderance of evidence places Catesby alongside Richard at Bosworth and we have a similar degree of certainty as to Catesby’s capture following cessation of hostilities. We know that Catesby was a lawyer and, given his early training, it seems unlikely that he would have taken a significant part in the fighting itself. This begs the question of Catesby’s role on the battlefield. To my knowledge, there is no specific evidence at all as to Catesby’s activities on the 22 August 1485. We know that there were relatively few executions following the period of conflict. The great exception was William Catesby. We know of his execution, which took place in Leicester three days following the battle on 25 August 1485.64 We do possess his last will and testament which, because of its importance, I have reproduced here in full:
Thy sys the Wille of William Catesby esquyer made the XXV day of August the first yere of King Henry the VIIth tobo executed by my dere and Welbelovid wiff to whom I have ever be trewe of my body putting my sole trust in herr for the executione thereof for the welthe of my soule the which I am undowted she will execute: as for my body, whan she may, [it is] tobe buried in the churche of Saynt legger in Aisby [Ashby St Ledgers, Northamptonshire] and to do suche memorialles for me as I have appoynted by for. And to restore all londes that I have wrongfully purchasid and to pay the residue of suche lond as I have boughte truly and to deviene yt among herr childrene and myne as she thinkithe good after herr discrecione. I doute not the King wilbe good and gracious Lord to them, for he is callid a full gracious prince. And I never offended hym by my good and Free Will; for god I take my juge I have ever lovid hym. Item: that the executours of Nicholas Cowley have the lond agayn in Evertoft withoute they have their C.li. Iterm: in like wise Revellhis lond in Bukby. Item: in like wise that the coopartioners have their part in Rodynhalle in Suff. [sic] in we have right thereto or els tobe restored to themthat had yt befor. Item: in like wise the londes in Brownstone if the parte have right that hadd yt befor. And the londes besides Kembalone bye disposid for my soule and Evertons and so of all other londes that the parte hathe right Iue. Item: that all my Fader dettes and bequestes be executed and paid as to the hous of Catesby and other. Item: that my lady of Bukingham have C.li. to halp herr children and that she will se my lordes dettes paid and his will executed. And In especialle in suche lond as shold be amortesid to the hous of Plasshe. Item: my Lady of Shaftisbury XL marke. Item: that John Spenser have his LX li withe the olde money that I owe. Item: that Thomas Andrews have his XX Li. And that all other bequestes in my other will be executed as my especialle trust is in you masteres Magarete And I hertly cry you mercy if I have delid uncurtes
ly withe you. And ever prey you leve sole and all the dayes of your liff to do for my soule. And ther as I have, be executour I besech you se the Willes executed. And pray lorde [bishop of] Wynchester [Winchester] my lord [bishop] of Worcetour [Woucester] my lord [bishop] of London’ to help you to execute this my will and they will do sume what for me. And that Richard Frebody may have his XX li. agayne and Badby X li. or the londes at Evertons and ye the X li. And I pray you in every place se cleiernese in my soule and pray fast and I shall for you and Ihu [Jesus] have mercy uponne my soule Amen.
My lordis Stanley, Strange and all that blod help and pray for my soule for ye have not for my body as I trusted in you. And if my issue reioyce [sic] my londes I pray you lete maister Johne Elton have the best benefice. And my lord lovell come to grace than that ye shew to hym that he pray for me. And uncle Johanne remembrer my soule as ye have done my body; and better. And I pray you se the Sadeler Hartlyngtone be paid in all other places.
There are numerous important points which arise from Catesby’s last words. Some of these have been raised by Richardson,65 who, in a similar vein to many commentators, writes:
The chief interest for this historian in Catesby’s brief, last document lies first, in an apparently pointless plea to Henry Tudor … And the opening sentence of in the … final paragraph which reads ‘My Lords, Stanley, Strange … help and pray for my soul for ye have not for my body as I trusted in you.’ Why did he trust in the Stanleys? … And what possible reason could Catesby have had to expect decent treatment … from a man as mean and vengeful as Henry Tudor?
We can, potentially, address these and other issues that arise from this fascinating document. For example, one of the lines that especially stands out in discussions concerns Catesby’s ‘abject’ appeal to Henry VII, presumably to save his life. As with Richardson’s perplexity, it has often been seen to reflect the grovelling of a very desperate man. Indeed, this is certainly a reasonable interpretation for, as we now know, Catesby was in extremis. However, there is another aspect to this appeal beyond the clear grovelling. As noted earlier, the mother of William’s wife was the half-sister of Henry’s mother. Thus, in this way, they might be considered fairly close family. It is doubtful that Catesby had ever met with Tudor, although it is reported that Catesby had been sent to Brittany in September 1484, possibly to secure Tudor as a captive. Thus the appeal was unlikely to be on a personal basis. However, it is most probably through his family connections that Catesby talks of having ‘ever loved him’ and by his good and free will having ‘never offended him.’ If we take this as more than the pleadings of a condemned man, then perhaps William’s assertions are not quite as grovelling as they are often construed. In fact, they may represent indications that William Catesby was quite ready to transfer his adherence to Henry Tudor from Richard III as he had been from William, Lord Hastings to Richard in the first place. The appeal here may be more subtle than a number of commentators suspect. Perhaps this is in part the answer to Richardson’s explicit question as to why Catesby hoped he might be treated by Henry Tudor with some leniency. As we know, he was wrong.
Richardson goes on to ask why Catesby expected help at the hands of the Stanleys, pere et fils, and why he should trust them. To this I think there are also substantive answers. Let us deal firstly with the trust placed in Lord Strange, the son of Lord Stanley. Three days before Catesby penned his last will and testament, he had stood with Richard facing the armies of Tudor and the Stanley forces. When Richard called upon Lord Stanley to join with him he received no positive response. Upon threatening to execute Lord Strange who was held by him as hostage, Stanley is supposed to have returned the ominous reply that he ‘had more sons.’ At this juncture, this would seem to state a definite intent and things must have looked very black for Lord Strange. Yet we know he survived the battle and perhaps we can now speculate as to why. It is my suggestion that Catesby, being a lawyer and probably no fighter, was put in charge of Strange. My expectation is that his orders were to execute Strange the moment that Stanley joined in the battle on Tudor’s side. However, being in a prudent and legal way of thinking Catesby hedged his bets. I suspect that he held off this task and waited for the outcome of the battle. If Stanley did prove a traitor and Richard won, it would be short work to remove Strange’s head as Richard returned to his camp. If however, Richard lost, the promise of leniency to Strange may have been seen by Catesby as a possible bargaining chip. Thus, he placed his trust in Lord Strange to the benefit of both father and son, but as we know this trust was misplaced, as Catesby bitterly lamented in the last paragraph of his will.
However, I think there is more. Not only was Catesby a benefactor to the Stanleys on that fateful day of 22 August 1485, I believe he was also instrumental in preserving Lord Stanley on 13 June 1483. From the accounts of the Council meeting, blows were apparently aimed at Stanley by those rushing into the council chamber and he sustained some hurt while sheltering under the table. I believe the preservation of his life was facilitated by Catesby in the immediate aftermath of the in-flow of guards into the chamber. I suspect that Catesby had some words with Richard to the effect that the primary concern was Hastings and that Stanley, although the possessor of suspicious motives, was not the principal target of concern that day. Indeed, we know that Stanley later made Catesby an annuity of five marks for ‘goodwill and counsel’ and granted him the manor of Kimbolton in Huntingdonshire on 17 December 1483. It was not the greatest of gifts possible but it seems to suggest some degree of concordance between these two individuals. I suspect that Catesby viewed Stanley to be in his debt for his action in ‘saving’ Lord Strange, but also for his previous actions some two years and two months before. I suspect this, but I cannot show it, that the reference to the unpaid gratitude due Catesby from Stanley then refers to his act of dissuading Richard from more severe action against Stanley that day in the Tower. Although I cannot prove it, the suspicion is there. The fact that later Henry VII had the brother of Lord Stanley, Sir William Stanley executed is of small consolation, and none for the scared and quickly beheaded Catesby.
So, as with the son, Catesby was also badly mistaken about the father, for the Stanleys were ever the ultimate betrayers. William Catesby was facing immediate execution but I think in his last hours he could not help but record his anger and bitterness against the Stanleys, a bitterness that still echoes across the centuries.
However, the central question still remains: why did Catesby have to die and why was he executed with such dispatch? As Payling cogently noted, Catesby was ‘the only man of importance to suffer death among those captured in the battle.’66 We must here understand why. After all, many individuals more directly involved with the actual fighting seemed to have incurred only minimal penalties. It has been argued that Catesby’s acquisitiveness, which was evidently exhibited throughout the reign of Richard III, had made him many enemies who, in the aftermath of Bosworth, took their chance to get revenge. There may be an element of truth in this assertion. Catesby’s relatively humble origins and his ascendency to great power must have caused considerably jealousy. However, was this sufficient to single him out? After all, he would be personally unknown to the likes of the Earl of Oxford, but especially Henry Tudor, who now held the reins of power. His demise suggests there was something more than just personal antipathy or individual jealousy involved here. His execution, conducted so quickly after the cessation of hostilities, is suggestive of a more important political expediency. In general, as Henry Tudor sought to establish his authority in his new realm, it would appear sensible to found his reign on the rule of law, especially as his hold on the throne was so tenuous. His action in declaring his reign as dating from the day before Bosworth was indeed a more than ambivalent one, setting a precedent Henry might well have regretted. However, in general his actions following the battle are those one might expect of a new king. There is perhaps a danger here of attributing to Henry Tudor those very characteristics that have been attributed to Ri
chard and against which so many have argued. Given this, perhaps we might seek another reason for the untoward haste of William Catesby’s death.
I believe the primary reason that he lost his head is because of what he knew. And what could he have known that would have threatened the new regime? It could only be something relevant to the succession and thus the hopes and stability of Henry VII, now only three shaky days into his reign. I believe it was Catesby’s knowledge of the certainty of the pre-contract and thus the illegitimate status of Elizabeth of York that threatened so much. After all, Henry had promised to marry her in the hope of legitimising his own very tenuous claim to the throne. If she was illegitimate, even after the marriage there would be large numbers of individuals with better claim to the throne than Henry and his new wife. Later in this work, I shall look into what this might have meant to her brothers also. However, I think it was this certain knowledge and potentially some written proof of it that proved the death of William Catesby.
The Catesby Memorial
Following his execution in Leicester, the body of William Catesby was returned to Ashby St Ledgers and assumedly interred in a grave site, presumably somewhere adjacent to the high altar. Yet his memorial brass was not laid at that time.67 Nine years later saw the death of his wife Margaret, but even then the memorial does not appear to have been finished. What we have today as the final version of this completed memorial brass is shown in Figure 17. The particular element showing William Catesby in detail is given in Figure 18.
Figure 18 shows a close-up of Catesby’s head and in large part it is a stylised representation, but if we have to interpret, as presumably the artist did, then it looks like a rather sad and worn visage. Whether or not this representation looked anything like Catesby is now almost impossible to discern. What is much more interesting is the mutilation that has occurred and, as can be seen from the illustration, this takes the form of a posthumous ‘beheading.’ It remains a small source of contention as the actual process by which Catesby was executed. The traditional notion has it that he went under the axe or the sword. However, Kendall contends that he would have been hanged.68 I think, however, it is best to rely more on Croyland who, as noted in a quotation previously given in this chapter, asserted that Catesby had his head cut off. And the vandalism to the brass image seems to confirm this in some small way.69 It is suspected that the brass was laid after 1507 and presumably the damage was done some time after. There may be, of course, a much more prosaic explanation of this defacement, in that it simply represents the actions of some potential thief who, attracted by this wonderful memorial, sought to steal away a valuable piece of history. This may well be possible since the adjacent brass of William’s father, Sir William is now sadly damaged and almost completely gone (see Figure 15).70
Richard III and the Murder in the Tower Page 8
