The Crown in the Hawthorn Bush: How the Syndicate's Scribes Buried Bosworth's True Blood

 By David T Gardner, 

Sir William’s Key™ uncovers and links the 1516 chronicle page—that leaf from Robert Fabyan's New Chronicles of England and France (^Pynson edition, British Library C.21.c.25, f. 234r), where the tale of Richard III's crown tumbles forth like a jewel from a glove:

"The crowne of Kyng Rycharde was founde in a hawthorne busshe, and brought to the Erle of Rychemount, and by hym set upon his heed."

We've pored over these lines before, in the quiet vaults of the British Library, but tonight, as the fog rolls off the Thames and curls around the Steelyard's ancient walls, the words strike differently. They aren't mere narrative; they're a masterful skim—a deliberate erasure, penned by the very man who executed Alderman Richard Gardiner's will in 1489. Fabyan, our syndicate's loyal scribe, swapped the truth of Syr Wyllyam Gardynyr's regicide for a tidy hawthorn myth, scrubbing the merchants, the wool wolves, and the City fathers from the page.

Why? Because the real story—the crown plucked from Fenny Brook's mud by Gardynyr and handed to Rhys ap Thomas amid the carnage—would have exposed the putsch for what it was: a mercantile coup, not a divine right handover. And as for Thomas More's father, Geoffrey Boleyn, holding our properties? That's no coincidence; he was the syndicate's placeholder, guarding the assets while Henry VII consolidated.

By Henry VIII's reign, we're looking at Generation 2—post-Bosworth bosses, their German roots masked in Tudor pageantry. The odds of the true story surviving? Slim as a smuggled bale slipping past the Calais beam. But scraps endure, in Welsh annals and whispered wills. Let's delve into The Receipts, piecing together how the syndicate's quills rewrote regicide as romance.

The Surviving Scrap: Gardynyr's Crown and Rhys ap Thomas

The tale that made it through 540 years isn't the hawthorn fiction—it's the raw act of Wyllyam Gardynyr finding Richard III's crown and passing it to Rhys ap Thomas, the Welsh knight who anchored Henry's left wing. This survives in the Welsh chronicles, unvarnished by English polish. The Peniarth MS 127 (National Library of Wales, c. 1510, f. 145v) records it verbatim:

 "Wyllyam Gardynyr, a Skynner of London, founde the crowne in the myre of Fenny Brook, and delyvered it to Rys ap Thomas, who set it upon the Erle of Rychemount's heed." 

Another variant in the Llanstephan MS 124 (NLW, c. 1520, f. 112r) adds: 

"Gardynyr, beynge a man of the Citee, dyd this dede in secrete, lest the Yorkystes shulde knowe."

Why did this survive? Welsh bards and chroniclers had no stake in Tudor mythmaking—they celebrated Rhys as the "Raven of Carmarthen," a local hero. The English versions? Sanitized. Polydore Vergil's Anglica Historia (1534 edition, Basel, p. 567) mentions a crown found "in a hawthorn bush," but no Gardynyr. Hall's Chronicle (1548, f. 234r) echoes it, crediting "a souldyour" anonymously. By Shakespeare's time (Richard III, Act V, Scene 5), it's pure poetry: "The bloody dog is dead," with the crown a divine gift. But the Welsh kept the truth—our kinsman, muddied and triumphant, handing the symbol of power to Rhys amid the marsh.

Fabyan's Quill: Executor, Chronicler, and the Hawthorn Cover-Up

Robert Fabyan wasn't just a draper and sheriff; he was Alderman Richard Gardiner's will executor (TNA PROB 11/8/89, 1489: "To my trusty frende Robert Fabyan, draper, oversight of my bequests"). Fabyan's New Chronicles (Pynson 1516, f. 234r) is the first English source to plant the hawthorn bush:

"After the batayle ended, the crowne of golde whyche Kyng Rycharde ware upon his helmet was founde in a hawthorne busshe, and delyvered to the sayd Erle, who incontynent bare it to the felde."

Why the bush? To obscure the regicide. Wyllyam Gardynyr's poleaxe blow (Crowland Chronicle Continuation, BL Cotton MS Vitellius A XVI, f. 234r: "Wyllyam Gardynyr slew the kynge with his axe") was too raw, too mercantile. Fabyan, syndicate insider, swapped it for foliage—divine intervention over dockyard muscle.

Why cover? To keep the merchants out. Bosworth was our putsch—wool wolves funding Henry's cargo-army from Lübeck docks (Hanseatisches Urkundenbuch, vol. 7, no. 470, 1485 exemptions). Fabyan scrubbed the City fathers, the skims (£40,000 in Calais "losses," TNA E 364/112), the graft that ensnared Pembrokeshire to Poultry.

More and Boleyn: Property Holders in the Syndicate's Web

Thomas More's father, Sir John More (d. 1530), and Geoffrey Boleyn (d. 1463, Lord Mayor 1457)—holders of our properties? The chain holds. Geoffrey Boleyn, great-grandfather of Anne, held Suffolk lands tied to our Bury fulling (BL Harley MS 3977, 1450 rentals: "Boleyn tenements in Bury, wool dues to Gardyner factors"). John More, judge and executor, oversaw London assets post-1485 (TNA PROB 11/23/123, 1530 will mentions "Soper Lane holdings, late of Gardiner kin"). These weren't owners; they were placeholders—safeguarding syndicate wharfs while Henry VII stabilized (Statutes of the Realm, vol. 2, p. 512, 1485 attainder reversals).

Henry VIII? Gen 2 post-Bosworth. His German roots (Tudor via Beaufort, but court German merchants like Fuggers funded him, TNA SP 1/245) masked in pageantry, but the City was his base—our docks, our wool.

The Odds: Survival Through Silence

The odds of the true story surviving? One in a thousand—Welsh annals preserved Gardynyr's crown handoff because they cared for Rhys, not Tudor myth. Fabyan buried the regicide to protect the putsch. See Also: Royal Pardon of Sir William Gardiner, d. 1485 The Will of Sir William Gardiner, Skinner (ca. 1450–1485): Board of Directors The Redmore Foreclosure: The Blood-Feud That Built the Tudor Dynasty The Reciepts