THE
SIEGE OF THE TOWER OF LONDON, JULY 1460
In the summer heat of July 1460, the ancient stones of the Tower of London bore witness to one of the most dramatic and violent chapters of the Wars of the Roses. For two relentless weeks- from the 2nd to the 16th—London itself became a battleground as Yorkist forces clashed with the defenders loyal to King Henry VI. The Tower, a symbol of royal power and the fortress of the Lancastrian regime, came under siege from within its own capital. As cannon fire echoed along the Thames and the cries of the wounded rose above the city, the struggle for England’s crown reached a fever pitch. This was not just a military confrontation, it was a turning point in the brutal civil war that would define a generation.
Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury; his son, Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick—known later as the “Kingmaker”; and Edward, Earl of March—son of Richard, Duke of York—were three of the most powerful figures in the Yorkist cause. United by blood, ambition and deep frustration with the weak rule of Henry VI, they believed the House of York had a superior claim to the throne through descent from Edward III. Richard, Duke of York, was the son of Anne Mortimer, a direct descendant of Edward III’s second surviving son, Lionel of Antwerp—giving the York line a possible senior claim over the Lancastrians, who descended from Edward III’s third surviving son, John of Gaunt. The Yorkist lords also accused Henry VI’s court of corruption and misrule, blaming Queen Margaret of Anjou and her circle for the kingdom’s instability. Their military campaign was as much about restoring strong governance as it was about dynastic legitimacy—and by 1460, they were ready to fight for both.
And so, on 26 June 1460, a determined Yorkist force commanded by Salisbury, Warwick and March (the future King Edward IV), landed at Sandwich on the southeastern coast of England. Their landing marked the beginning of a bold military campaign aimed at challenging the authority of the Lancastrian regime. The Yorkists had sailed from Calais, a strategic English stronghold on the continent, which Warwick controlled as its captain. The passage was swift and unopposed, and upon reaching the Kentish coast, they quickly seized the port town of Sandwich, where they encountered little to no resistance.
From Sandwich, the Yorkist army advanced inland toward Canterbury, one of England’s most important ecclesiastical centers. The city, perhaps sympathetic to the Yorkist cause or unwilling to provoke conflict, opened its gates without opposition. The way with which the Yorkists took Canterbury suggested a favorable local sentiment or, at the very least, a widespread disillusionment with the ineffective rule of King Henry VI and his court.
Meanwhile, the royal army, still loyal to the crown and commanded by Queen Margaret of Anjou and her Lancastrian allies, remained stationed in the Midlands. They had positioned themselves strategically, prepared to respond to simultaneous threats. The Lancastrians anticipated that invasions might come from multiple directions- Edward of March had connections to Ireland, and Warwick’s fleet could strike from Calais-making it difficult to predict where the Yorkists would make their move. The uncertainty left the royalists at a disadvantage, unable to concentrate their forces effectively as the Yorkists advanced swiftly through Kent.
The Yorkist army advanced steadily toward London, their numbers swelling as they marched through Kent and the surrounding counties. Support for their cause grew with each passing day. Local gentry, merchants, and even former royal officials began to declare for the Yorkists, bringing with them men, arms, and valuable intelligence. By the time the army approached the capital in early July, it had become a formidable force, organized and emboldened by a string of easy successes.
On 2 July 1460, the Yorkists reached London. Rather than resist, the city welcomed them with open arms. The gates were thrown open, and the citizens, many of whom favored the restoration of good governance and the rule of law the Yorkists promised, greeted their arrival with cheers. Warwick, already popular in London due to his naval victories and reputation for order, was met as a liberator rather than a conqueror.
However, not all within the capital shared the city’s enthusiasm. Inside the heavily fortified Tower of London, a garrison of Lancastrian loyalists under the command of Thomas, Lord Scales, refused to surrender. Determined to hold the Tower for the King, Scales defied the surrounding Yorkist forces and took the drastic step of ordering cannon fire on the city itself. Shot and flame rained down on London’s streets and rooftops, striking both innocent civilians and Yorkist troops. Panic and fury spread through the city as homes were damaged, and citizens were killed by the very defenders sworn to protect them.
The Yorkists responded swiftly and decisively. Drawing on bombards and heavy artillery stolen from the Royal arsenal, they positioned their own guns to return fire on the Tower. The city, once a neutral prize in the political struggle, had now become a battlefield. The Yorkists understood that they could not secure the capital fully while the Tower remained in enemy hands. The exchange of fire marked the beginning of a tense and dangerous standoff in the heart of London.
The Yorkist besiegers methodically
cut off supply routes to the Tower, while continuing to pummel its thick stone
walls. Yet even as the Tower’s defenses began to weaken, Scales remained
defiant. He may have hoped for a royal victory at Northampton, which Warwick
and March had departed for, or at least reinforcements from loyalist forces in
the Midlands. But with each passing day, news from the north was ominously
absent—and inside the Tower, provisions began to dwindle. Morale among the
Lancastrian defenders fell sharply, worsened by the realization that the people
of London were no longer silent spectators but actively hostile.
Public anger now boiled over. The citizens of London became active participants in the siege. Armed mobs erected barricades, maintained night watches, and patrolled the riverbanks to prevent any escape from the fortress. Several local militias, aligned with the Yorkist cause, offered their services to the commanders coordinating the assault. Calls for vengeance grew louder with each civilian casualty from the Tower’s bombardment.
Everything changed when word reached London of the Yorkist victory at the Battle of Northampton on 10 July 1460. More devastating still for the Lancastrians, King Henry VI had been captured. The political and symbolic blow was enormous—without the king, the defenders of the Tower no longer had a cause to fight for. Realizing that no reinforcements would come, and that further resistance would only bring destruction upon themselves, Scales began to negotiate surrender. Around 19 July 1460, the Tower of London capitulated. March and Warwick returned to London with the captive king in tow.
Yet surrender offered no guarantee of safety. As Scales attempted to slip away under cover of night, disguised and aboard a barge down the Thames, he was recognized by a London mob still furious over the destruction of their homes and families. Dragged from the boat, he was brutally murdered in the street—an act of mob justice that reflected the deep bitterness left in the wake of the siege. His body was left exposed near the Church of St. Mary Overie, a grim warning to any who might challenge Yorkist rule in the capital.
With the Tower now firmly in
Yorkist hands and the king himself in captivity, London was at last secured.
The city, which had stood at the heart of political instability for over a
decade, was now the stronghold of the Yorkist regime. What followed would be a
dramatic and unprecedented political maneuver: Richard, Duke of York, returning
from Ireland to press not for the protection of the realm—but for the throne
itself.
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Things Tudors
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