The White Rose

Tyburn

Dawn came slowly for those who had spent the night without rest and without hope, without forgetfulness and without illusion.

In a cell in the prison of Chelsea Post two men, lying side by side on a heap of straw, were awaiting death. Upon the order of Sir John Knox, the Bryans had been solicitously cared for. Thus, their wounds no longer bled, their hearts beat more strongly, and some particle of strength had returned to their torn muscles and crushed flesh, the better to suffer and experience the horror of the sentence to which they were condemned

The condemned Princesses did not sleep that night. Neither could their husbands nor Matilda nor the King. Not even Elizabeth could, for the words of Margaret Howard kept ringing through her ears. Only two men could boast that they had slept without difficulty that night: Knox because he had done his job and Robert Stafford, for to exact his vengeance he had ridden forty miles in a day. 

Shortly after the sunrise, the crowds began to hover around the gallows of Tyburn. They waited for the fateful hour, the fateful hour which was almost carnival-like. Shopkeepers were selling hotcakes and apples around the square of the London suburb. Everyone wanted to see the great spectacle of an execution of the pair of wretched men. 

"Madam," Joan Moray had asked before dawn "I should like to go down to Tyburn to see the executions"

"Very well..." the Countess Matilda had replied.

And so, the chief lady-in-waiting to the mother of two of the three disgraced princesses, left her mistress behind. It took some time for the two executioners to arrive. They bore on their yellow livery coats the black knot, while on their heads they wore the infamous red masks and cowls making their own office unmistakable. Behind them came several men in royal surcoats, each carrying a large oaken crate. A fourth man, dressed all in black with a white cowl followed them, a large executioner's axe strapped around his shoulder with one hand stabilizing the heavy weapon.

The crowd cheered in delight when the executioners opened their crates, revealing what was inside. There were several large daggers and at least two butcher's knives which had been recently sharpened at the Tower of London's armory. The man clad in black began preparing the noose for the unfortunate squires who until recently had enjoyed considerable favor at Court.

At around the same time as Lady Moray had vacated Westminster, the Princesses had been loaded into carts and sent away on the orders of Lord Lovell. Those carts had now arrived at Tyburn. In complete agreement with both the King and with the Lord Chancellor, the Keeper of the Seals had found a superb way of perfecting punishment. The Princesses would themselves watch the execution that Edward of Luxembourg would have inflicted upon them if he had had his way. They would see with their own eyes the consequences of their actions. 

Soon, up came the Bryan brothers in a cart. Neither Walter nor Philip were able to stand and as such were tied to the sides of the wagon. Before they had left Chelsea Post, they had been visited by a priest who had given them both last confession and last rites, along with a promise to both pray for them and convey their last words to their families. Utterly incapable of fighting back, their bonds were cut and they were taken down from their vehicle of doom. They only half knew what awaited them.

The executioners dragged them onto the scaffold and stripped them naked. The crowd laughed and cheered. Catherine Stafford fainted almost immediately. Anne Stafford began to cry out:

"Tell Edmund! Tell the Duke of York! Tell my husband that I am innocent! Please!" 

There were tears flowing down her cheeks and she wailed in sorrow. Then the noose was tightened around Philip's throat and two executioners lifted the scrawny squire up into the air by the neck. Margaret Howard was dead silent. She looked completely emotionless, unfazed by the whole ordeal. Philip was by now gasping and the executioners released him. It was Walter's turn. In the meantime, the other executioners cut off the privy parts of Philip Bryan, and the world finally went black for the younger of the two brothers.

The crowd went wild with excitement and joy. The black clad executioner proceeded with the sentence, taking the butcher's knife and cutting open the unconscious man's stomach. He removed the entrails and held them over his head, facing the crowd. As blood flowed from the scaffold, Margaret finally spoke.

"Philip!" she cried, in a tone that seemed far removed from pity or sorrow.

The young squire was quite dead and the job was finished with a blow of the axe to his neck. Walter was disposed of in similar fashion, and the carts with the Princesses each inside moved off, Margaret and Catherine to Wales, Anne to Yorkshire. As the crowds began to dissipate, a lady dressed in yellow approached the executioners. She wanted to know if she could have the tongue of one of the executed men. 

The executioners were slightly confused at least one was visibly suspicious. For it was well known that the tongue of a man who had been hanged, particularly one who had been hanged upon a Friday, was useful for raising the Devil. But could the tongue of a man who had been decapitated serve the same purpose?

However, since the lady had a handsome shining piece of gold in the palm of her hand, they acceded to her request and discreetly gave her what she desired.

This young woman was Joan Moray, and she rode astride her horse back to Westminster.