What happened to the Princes in the Tower, Edward IV’s sons, who disappeared in 1483? Ethan Bale looks at different theories about their fate

The Princes in the Tower (detail) by John Everett Millais

The mystery of the fate of the two Princes in the Tower, Edward V and his brother Richard, Duke of York, has fascinated people for over 500 years. Theories come and go. Possible murderers are put forward and knocked down. Richard III is still the favourite culprit, but there are plenty of other views, as Ethan Bale, author of Hawker and the King’s Jewel, writes.

It is one of the tantalising riddles of English history: the fate of the two young children of Edward IV who went missing in the Tower of London sometime in 1483, never to be seen or heard of again.

The eldest of the pair, Edward, was 12, the rightful heir, and already acknowledged as Edward V just days after the death of his father. The younger brother, Richard of Shrewsbury, was only nine years old.

Immediately upon the death of his brother the king, Richard of Gloucester was declared their Protector, according to the late king’s wishes, and took the boys into custody.

Soon afterwards, however, he seized the throne (or reluctantly accepted its offer) after having the boys declared illegitimate, allegedly because Edward IV had had a signed marriage contract (and a mock ceremony performed) with Lady Eleanor Talbot before he married Elizabeth Woodville.

Gloucester ascended the throne as Richard III and, after a few sightings of the young princes playing in the Tower grounds in the autumn, they disappeared from history.

What is extraordinary about this story is that after over 500 years the mystery of the boys’ disappearance still raises strong emotions leading to fierce arguments in both academia and in popular culture.

The ‘Princes in the Tower’ theme has spawned a plethora of books and television documentaries over the last few decades, none of which have revealed the conclusive evidence required to pin the fate of the young Plantagenets on any one person; at least not enough that could stand up in a courtroom.

Shakespeare’s Tragedy of Richard III has cast a long shadow over our collective perception of the episode and Richard’s ‘guilt’ was rarely challenged until the publication of Josephine Tey’s retro-crime thriller The Daughter of Time in 1951.

Today, it seems, more historians and amateur sleuths are willing to re-examine the case, hoping to find missing evidence pointing to the fate of Edward and his younger brother. Indeed, the Wars of the Roses is continuing anew as history enthusiasts take sides – Plantagenet or Tudor, traditionalist or revisionist – in laying blame.

Earl Rivers presenting his book to Edward IV, Elizabeth Woodville and Edward, Prince of Wales

It is a fact though that several people had strong motive to do away with the boys. Not least of whom was Richard of Gloucester. Thomas More’s damning history of the reign of Richard III clearly implicates him in the death of the princes. But More, a Tudor supporter, offered no evidence of Richard’s guilt and some have conjectured it was written as allegory and not unalloyed truth.

In the centuries since, many researchers have outlined theories that implicate others in the Lancastrian orbit who could have instigated the murders. That is, if indeed murder actually happened.

In my new novel, Hawker and the King’s Jewel, I have portrayed Richard as not directly responsible for what befell the young princes. That is not because I am necessarily a Ricardian sympathiser; it was to craft a compelling plot for the novel.

However, there are historians who point out that because Parliament had already declared the boys illegitimate, Richard’s claim was relatively safe and also that no one in the family – including their mother Elizabeth Woodville – ever blamed Richard for their disappearance, even after Richard’s death.

So who else was in the frame? The Duke of Buckingham, Henry Stafford, from the Lancastrian side, had come over to Richard upon the death of Edward IV and quickly became a major ally, well rewarded for his support. But by October 1483 he was leading a rebellion at the behest of the formidable Margaret Beaufort, his aunt, in support of her son, Henry Tudor.

Buckingham could have actually been lining up the throne for himself, being of royal blood, and may have been in a position as Constable of the Tower to do away with the boys ensconced there. He may have sought to later blame the disappearance on Richard, either to bolster his own position or that of Henry Tudor by getting rid of the legitimate heirs.

His rebellion petered out within days, leading to his capture and execution by Richard in November.

Margaret Beaufort, heiress of the House of Lancaster, herself had motive. The two princes were clearly in the way of her son’s path to the throne and doubly so if their illegitimacy was overturned once King Richard was dead.

Henry Tudor had come from a line long-declared ineligible for inheriting the throne so he was already on shaky ground. Getting rid of Edward IV’s young sons prior to Henry’s subsequent rebellion made sense.

Edward Prince of Wales, later Edward V, stained glass panel, Little Malvern Priory

As with Richard III, there is no credible evidence that she gave the order for the murders, but her spies or supporters may well have had access to the Tower. Whether Henry himself was a party to such a conspiracy is not known; but he would have been a beneficiary regardless.

A few researchers including MJ Trow have put forward a theory that it was a court physician, Doctor John Argentine, who could have poisoned the princes during their incarceration to gain Tudor favour or just through his own sociopathy. Once again, there is nothing beyond speculation to pin any murder on him.

Lastly, there is the theory that no murders took place. This is perhaps the oldest of all as it goes to the heart of Yorkist claims at the time that at least one of the princes had escaped confinement and was whisked to safety on the Continent.

No evidence was ever discovered or produced that the princes were murdered. It is believed that young Edward, the uncrowned Edward V, had possibly been ill with tuberculosis even before his incarceration. Did Edward die of his disease shortly after escaping, while his younger brother survived?

A Yorkist pretender, Perkin Warbeck, later claimed to be Richard of Shrewsbury – the younger of the two princes – and led a rebellion over six years culminating with an invasion attempt via Cornwall in 1497. He had been recognised officially as the lost heir by the Holy Roman Emperor and, more importantly, by Richard III’s aunt, Margaret, the Duchess Dowager of Burgundy. Was this mere political expediency or had they truly been convinced of his parentage?

His rebellion failed, however, and he was imprisoned by Henry Tudor, later released under house arrest, but eventually executed in 1499. Interestingly, it appears that Henry’s wife, Elizabeth of York, was never asked to identify Warbeck as her younger brother, nor did she ever commit her thoughts on the matter to writing – as far as we know.

At the end of 2021 the Missing Princes Project, begun by Philippa Langley (who led the effort to find Richard III’s remains in a Leicester car park), attempted to give new credence to a theory that postulates Edward V survived, was given sanctuary under a new identity in a village near Crediton in Devon, and lived into his early 40s.

The small chapel in St Matthew’s Church, Coldridge, contains the tomb of one John Evans and is filled with Yorkist imagery and symbolism for no obvious reason, including a stained-glass portrait of young Edward V. Moreover, it was built during young Henry VIII’s reign. Could this be the last resting place of the missing boy king?

Just as emotional involvement can be the enemy of any good detective, so is it of a good historian. The compelling and unresolved mystery of the fate of these two children, both pawns in a dynastic struggle, has led some to run the risk of turning conjecture into fact while fitting ‘evidence’ to match a desired scenario.

Until new, undisputed evidence comes to light through personal letters, records or DNA, all of history’s suspects – both Yorkist and Lancastrian – should remain innocent until proven guilty.