In 2012 the greatest archeological find was made arguably since the discovery of Tutankhamen tomb by Howard Carter in 1922. In recent years a certain degree of scandal had befallen the current royal dynasty in the UK, and as despicable certain of the allegations are, they pale when compared to the degree of scandal, skullduggery and intrigue that the predecessors of the Windsor clan!
Personally, I am not a Royalist, but neither am I a Republican. If anything I am indifferent to the Royal Family. Our families have very little in common and whilst they continue in a figurehead capacity with no political role to play they can get on with what they do.
I do not feel the same way about Royal Houses from a time in history when the will and actions of the monarch, and those within reach of the throne shaped the fortunes, or misfortunes of the British Isles. There is no better example of this than the Wars of the Roses (1455-1487), a particularly turbulent period in Britain’s generally turbulent past. The Wars were fought between supporters of the House of Lancaster (the Red Rose) and the House of York (the White Rose). Both Royal Houses were branches of the House of Plantagenet a dynasty that held onto the English crown for over 330 years (1154 (accession of Henry II) to 1485 (death of Richard III)).
During the Wars of the Roses, the crown changed hands, or should that be heads, no less than five times. The male line of the Lancastrian claim ended with the death of Henry VI in the Tower of London. Upon Henry's death Edward IV, of the Yorkist line, was restored to the throne and did much to restore stability until his unexpected death in April 1483.
The 12 years of relative stability during the reign of Edward IV ended and a genuine ‘Battle Royal’ ensued for the coveted crown. Since Edward’s young heir was just 12 years old when the King died, his paternal uncle, Richard the Duke of Gloucester, was appointed Lord Protector of the Realm. In the build up to his coronation, the influential cleric, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, claimed that Edward IV had a pre-existing marriage to a noblewoman named Lady Eleanor Talbot. When the Three Estates validated the claim of the Bishop, the consequences for the English crown and stability within the land were far reaching. The King’s marriage to Lady Talbot rendered his later marriage to Elizabeth Woodville (his Queen) bigamous, meaning that their now ‘bastard’ children, Edward V and Richard Duke of York had no legitimate claim to the throne. Edward V reigned for just 78 days when his uncle and Protector, Richard, was offered the crown by Parliament.
Edward V was moved to the Tower of London in May 1483, as was tradition prior to a coronation of a new king. Here he was joined by his younger brother Richard. Their uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, was crowned Richard III on 6th July 1483. An Act of Parliament of 1484, known as the Titulus Regius formally stated the illegitimacy of ‘the princes in the Tower’ and thus the validity of Richard’s claim to the throne.
Trouble and strife were never far away in these times and whilst the crown sat on Richard’s head to the satisfaction of Parliament, would be challengers to the throne were always on hand to try to displace it. As mentioned earlier, the Lancastrian claim fizzled out with the death of Henry VI in 1471 with which the House of Tudor saw an opportunity to muscle in on the throne related action. The claimant, Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, made attempted to seize the crown right at the commencement of Richard’s reign when he tried to lead an invasion force across the English Channel. This attempt was defeated by bad weather, but a second attempt saw his forces arrive in Wales.
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The battle was long, hard and bloody. At one point in the fighting Richard spied Henry in a group away from his main force and in an attempt to bring the battle to a swift conclusion led a charge of knights to engage with Henry. Richard was in the thick of the fighting, unlike Henry who was shielded by the soldiers of his bodyguard. At this stage the Stanleys (a powerful military family waded in). The Stanley’s had complex relations with both the Yorkists and the Tudors such that their allegiance on the day was unknown, right up until they through their lot in with the Tudors. The Stanley knights forced Richard and his remaining men back towards marshy land where the account would have it that Richard was unhorsed as his mount stumbled in the boggy earth. Richard suffered many injuries at the hands of William Stanley’s men, but the coup de grace was said to have been delivered by a Welsh soldier who struck Richard on the back of the head with such force with a halberd that part of Richard’s skull was removed. In the word’s of Guto’r Glyn, a contemporary Welsh poet, that soldier “Killed the boar, shaved his head”. The white boar was the personal device of Richard.
After the conclusion of the battle, Richard was unceremoniously conveyed back to Leicester, naked, strapped to the back of a horse. His mutilated body was put on display so that the local population would know that the Richard III was dead.
It is believed that the body was taken into the possession of the Franciscan monks of Leicester and hastily buried within their friary (Greyfriars).
Coming back up to date in 2012 news broke across the globe that the remains of Richard III, England’s last Plantagenet King of England had been discovered in a Social Services car park in the centre of Leicester. The location of the find was a gift to headline writers and Richard became for a time ‘The King in the car park’.
The story leading up to the discovery is almost as thrilling as the find itself, but you can look into that at another time. There are numerous accounts, including that of Philippa Langley who through the ‘Looking for Richard’ project that she established was pivotal to the discovery some years latter.
On 24th August 2012 bones were uncovered at the site of Greyfriars. Another headline grabbing fact was that the bones were located in the car park under a reserved parking space denoted by an ‘R’ painted on the tarmac!
Working back from the legs that were the first part of the skeleton to be unearthed, the team exposed the spine which clearly indicated that the owner of the bones suffered from scoliosis (an abnormal curvature of the spine) proving Shakespeare to be correct in at least one aspect of his depiction of Richard in his ‘history’ play. More convincing still was the damage to the skeleton indicating wounds received in battle that were consistent with someone who had been unhorsed and bludgeoned on the ground. In particular, the damage to the base of the back of the skull appeared to be consistent with the contemporary description of the death blow in Glyn’s poem.
But a bent spine and a battered skull do not a king make and it was hard science that put the identification of the remains as those of Richard III beyond all reasonable doubt. Some years prior to the Leicester discovery a writer and historian, John Ashdown-Hill, was requested to trace Richard’s female line of descent through mitochondrial DNA sequences. In this way, the line was established from Richard’s eldest sister, Anne, to a living relative in Canada. From these data, along with subsequent data generated by Turi King and her team at the University of Leicester, it was possible to obtain a match between the mitochondrial DNA extracted from the excavated bones and the sequence determined earlier for Richard’s female line.
What had seemed to be an impossible task by many had been achieved. The lost remains of one of England’s best known (second only to Henry VIII) and most notorious (second to none) kings had been found and positively identified thanks to a heady mix of tenacious determination, inspiration and good science.
In the years following the discovery, Leicester has reaped the rewards. In the area surrounding the cathedral and the former site of the Franciscan friary, Richard seems to be ubiquitous with his image gracing everything from contemporary mediaeval buildings to modern bars and restaurants!
So this was the stuff that brought Gunta and I to Leicester on a gloomy autumnal Saturday in November.
The upstairs galleries are concerned with the popular perception of Richard down through the intervening years and the discovery and analysis of the remains. The visitor is lead past audiovisual portrayals of Richard from Shakespeare’s literary hatchet job on the character of Richard. From our beloved thespians to former Sex Pistol, John Lydon, who drew inspiration for his Johnny Rotten persona from Olivier’s hunchbacked monarch, the message is clear, according to the established history King Richard was a proper wrong’un.
Next comes the science, starting with the dig and discovery of the remains… there is even exhibit space for Philippa Langley’s Union flag wellington boots! There is a wealth of information on the background genetic research and analysis that changed a high probability into proof positive that ‘Richard was ‘ere!’. And finally detailed explanations of the multiple deformations and injuries inflicted upon the skeleton, not least to his feet, lost in time, presumed to be the result of the digging in the vicinity of a Victorian drainage system.
The tour culminates with the opportunity to view the location of the grave itself, Richard’s resting place for no less than 527 years. It was enough to set a tachophile’s extremities a-tingling. The visitors centre extends into what was the Social Services car park, the former interior of Greyfriers such that the burial plot is visible. Illuminated and underglass the visitor can look down upon the grave and see exactly how the remains were found (the position of the skeleton is marked). I have to say that standing there looking upon the site was quite powerful and rather moving, especially given the fact that recent research appears to be on the verge of turning this period's established and accepted history on its head.
Before departing from the Visitor’s Centre for the cathedral there is one more thing of note to see. A famed mediaeval king must have a top notch funeral pall to cover his coffin and a lady by the name of Jacquie Binns, an ecclesiastical textile artist got the commission. What followed was 12 months work (and no doubt eye strain and sore hands) to produce a work of extreme beauty, artistry and poignancy.
Effectively the pall tells the two sides of this remarkable journey of King Richard, past and present. On both sides are presented characterized figures both political and pastoral. The ‘past’ side features several groups of people, on the left,an anonymous mourner (a common feature of mediaeval funerals) an aristocratic lady and a knight and on the right, Bishop, a Greyfriar (holding a model of the friary) and a Priest. These groups are on either side of a central group that depicts Anne (Richard’s Queen), his son Edward and St Martin, patron saint of Leicester Cathedral. Bringing things more up to date, the ‘present’ side depicts persons involved in the discovery. To the left, Professor Sir Robert Burgess, Vice Chancellor of the University of Leicester, Dr Richard Buckley, Co-Director of the University of Leicester Archeological Services and Dr Jo Appleby, project osteo-archaeologist (holding Richard’s skull). To the right, we see Philippa Langley (with Richard’s portrait), Dr John Ashdown-Hill, the historial who set off of the trail of Richard’s maternal DNA and Dr Phil Stone Chairman of the Richard III Society (here holding Richard’s device of the boar). The group in the middle depicts the aforementioned modern day political and pastoral folk in the form of Sir Peter Soulsby, elected Mayor, the Very Reverend David Monteith, the Dean of Leicester (with Bible) and finally, the Right Reverend Tim Stevens, Bishop of Leicester. Keeping all in check are a number of Seraphs.
The centre of the pall that sits on top of the coffin features the King’s Arms. The pall covered the coffin for a period of three days when the coffin lay in state within the cathedral prior to burial.
Leaving the visitors centre it was just a short walk to the Leicester Cathedral to see the tomb. Our visit coincided with bell-ringing practise which I usually appreciate, but such was the cacophony of atonal noise that it was good to enter the building where the sounds was impressively muted!
Leicester Cathedral must be one of the smallest cathedrals that I have visited in the UK (and I have seen a lot of them!) but the reburial of King Richard’s bones on 26th March 2015 certainly put the catherdral on the map, whatever it’s size. The funeral service and reburial occurred in the presence of Justin Welby, until very recently, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Sophie, the Countess of Wessex and Prince Richard, the current Duke of Gloucester, a title held by Richard III under the reign og his brother Edward IV.
History is changing. Even the official website of the Royal Family presents Richard in a positive light. Of his coming to power and the controversy of the Princes in the Tower, the following is stated:
'Richard III deposed his nephew, the young Edward V, on receiving evidenced that Edward IV had a marriage contract with Lady Eleanor Butler before his marriage to Elizabeth Woodville, thus making all of Edward and Elizabeth's children illegitimate. Edward V and his younger brother Richard were housed in the tower: their date of death is not known, but Tudor historians claimed Richard III was responsible.’
The above is an acknowledgement at a pretty high level (!) that the accusation of regicide on the part of Richard was a claim made by the new Tudor dynasty rather than solid, evidence based historical fact. That establishment attitudes towards Richard III were changing was further indicated when Elizabeth II bestowed the MBE upon Philippa Langley (along with John Ashdown-Hill) for "services to the exhumation and identification of Richard III". Not bad for digging up a ‘wrong ‘un’ you could say.
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