The Winter of Our Discontent

Posthumous portrait of Richard III
Unknown artist - oil on panel, late 16th century
National Portrait Gallery, London

We watched a wonderful film on the evening of New Years Day. It's called The Lost King and it is based on the true story of Philippa Langly, the British historian, writer, and producer who is most famous for her role as the person who inspired and led the successful search for the remains of King Richard III of England in 2012.

While the search for the dead king is central to the story, much of the plot revolves around the people Langly needed to execute the project, namely the historians, scientists and bureaucrats at the University of Leicester, and their dismissive attitude toward her as they believed she lacked the formal credentials to lead such an unlikely and ambitious project. In other words, she was an amateur. 

The real joy in the movie is the passion and dedication Philippa Langly devotes to the task at hand.

Langley's journey in the film begins with her attending a production of Shakespeare's Richard III. From the word go, the Bard casts Richard as a grotesque villain, whose evil deeds are his retribution for his severe physical limitations, especially when it came to the ladies. The play opens with one of Shakespeare's most famous lines which inspired the title of this post. 

In the soliloquy that follows, Richard announces to us:

Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to see my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity.
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determinèd to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Philippa, at the close of the play rejects Shakespeare's depiction of the king as a monstrous hunchback, child-murdering usurper of the crown. We're given a taste of her struggle to come as that opinion is strongly refuted by a fellow parent who basically tells her "Hey, who are you to question Shakespeare?" 

As portrayed in the film, this experience inspires Philippa to go full steam ahead into researching the king's story, clear his name to anyone willing to listen, and ultimately lead the search to discover his earthly remains. Essential to all this is hooking up with the local chapter of the Richard III Society, a worldwide organization dedicated in their words: 

to promote, in every possible way, research into the life and times of Richard III, and to secure a reassessment of the material relating to this period, and raise awareness of the role in history of this monarch.

I won't go into further detail to describe the film other than to say it's a great tale of the triumph of the human spirit featuring a magnificent performance by Sally Hawkins as Philippa. Needless to say, I highly recommend it.

Beyond that, what draws me to the film and what inspired this post is a subject that has interested me for quite some time. That is, our viewing of history as a closed book.

I've written about that subject numerous times, you can find examples:

Here,

Here,

Here,

Here,

Here ,

and perhaps most relevant to the story at hand, dealing with history unjustly tarnishing the legacy of an individual, Here and Here.

The story of King Richard III challenges the idea of history being one and done, as it is indeed the poster child for the old adage that history is written by the victors.

Richard's story came to be that way on August 22, 1485 on Bosworth Field in central England, where he led an army of up to 12,000 men in a losing battle against the forces led by Henry Tudor. 

The Battle of Bosworth Field and the defeat of Richard, brought to an end to the thirty year civil war, later dubbed The Wars of the Roses, which pitted the House of York, of which Richard was a member, and the House of Lancaster, with both sides claiming they were true heirs to the crown.  

Richard's defeat also marked the end of the Plantagenet Dynasty, and the beginning of the Tudor Dynasty as Henry was coronated King of England on Bosworth Field shortly after the battle, becoming King Henry VII.

Richard who by all accounts fought gallantly, made a daring but in the end fatal charge at Henry, when the forces of Lord Stanley, who up to that point remained neutral in the battle, surrounded Richard and killed him. His body, desecrated, stripped naked, and strewn atop of a horse, was taken to the city of Leicester where still naked, it was put on display for all to see as proof of his demise. Two days later, the body was put in a simple wooden coffin and buried in the choir of the church of the Franciscan Friary known as Greyfriars in an unmarked grave. 

In 1538, during the Protestant Reformation, the friary was dissolved, the church demolished, and along with it, all traces of Richard's remains. There was a legend, debunked only after his remains were unearthed under a Leicester parking lot, that at some point, Richard's bones were unceremoniously thrown into the River Soar nearby.

After his death, control of Richard's history was ceded to the Tudors, who not surprisingly had little reason to say anything good about the king they killed.

The lion's share of Richard's story that was passed on to our day through Shakespeare's play, comes to us courtesy of Sir Thomas More, the author, lawyer, judge, statesman, philosopher, theologian and ultimately British Lord Chancellor under the most famous Tudor of them all, King Henry VIII.

More's work The History of King Richard III was originally published in 1513.

He introduces us to Richard by describing in detail the king's physical deformities:

Little of stature, ill featured of limbs, crooked-backed, his left shoulder much higher than his right, hard-favored in appearance, and such as is in the case of lords called warlike, in other men called otherwise. 

Richard the third son, of whom we now entreat, was in wit and courage equal
with either of them, in body and prowess far under them both, little of stature, ill
featured of limbs, crook-backed, his left should much higher than his right, hard
favoured of visage, and such as is in states called warly, in other men otherwise, he
was malicious, wrathful, envious, and from afore his birth, ever froward. It is for truth
reported, that the Duchess his mother had so much ado in her travail, that she could
not be delivered of him uncut: and that he came into the world with the feet forward,
as men be born outward, and (as the fame runneth) also not untoothed, whither men of
hatred report above the truth, or else that nature changed her course in his beginning,
which in the course of his life many things unnaturally committed. None evil captain
was he in the war, as to which his disposition was more meetly than for peace. Sundry
victories had he, and sometime overthrows, but never in default as for his own person,
either of hardiness or politic order, free was he called of dispense, and somewhat
above his power liberal, with large gifts he got him unsteadfast friendship, for which
he was fain to pill and spoil in other places, and get him steadfast hatred. He was close
and secret, a deep dissimuler, lowly of countenance, arrogant of heart, outwardly
companionable where he inwardly hated, not letting to kiss whom he thought to kill:
dispitous and cruel, not for evil will always, but after for ambition, and either for the
surety or increase of his estate. Friend and foe was much what indifferent, where his
advantage grew, he spared no man death, whose life withstood his purpose. He slew
with his own hands King Henry the sixth, being prisoner in the Tower, as men
constantly say, and that without commandment or knowledge of the King, which
would undoubtedly if he had intended that thing, have appointed that butcherly office,
to some other than his own born brother.
Some wise men also ween, that his drift covertly conveyed, lacked not in
helping forth his brother of Clarence to his death: which he resisted openly, howbeit
somewhat (as men deemed) more faintly than he that were heartily minded to his
wealth. And they that thus deem, think that he long time in King Edward's life,
forethought to be King in case that that King his brother (whose life he looked that
evil diet should shorten) should happen to decease (as in deed he did) while his
children were young. And they deem, that for this intent he was glad of his brother's
death that Duke of Clarence, whose life must needs have hindered him so intending,
whither the same Duke of Clarence had he kept him true to his nephew the young
King, or enterprised to be King himself. But of all this Pointe, is there no certainty,
and whoso divineth upon conjectures, may as well shoot to far as to short. Howbeit
this have I by credible information learned, that the self night in which King Edward
died, one Mistlebrooke long ere morning, came in great haste to the house of one
Pottier dwelling in Redcross Street without Cripplegate: and when he was with hasty
rapping quickly let in, he showed unto Pottier that King Edward was departed. By my
truth man quod Pottier then will my master the Duke of Gloucester be King. What
cause he had so to think hard it is to say, whether he being toward him, any thing
knew that he such thing purposed, or otherwise had any inkling thereof: for he was
not likely to speak it of nought.
But now to return to the course of this history, were it that the Duke of
Gloucester had of old foreminded this conclusion, or was now at erst thereunto
moved, and put in hope by the occasion of the tender age of the young Princes, his

Richard the third son, of whom we now entreat, was in wit and courage equal
with either of them, in body and prowess far under them both, little of stature, ill
featured of limbs, crook-backed, his left should much higher than his right, hard
favoured of visage, and such as is in states called warly, in other men otherwise, he
was malicious, wrathful, envious, and from afore his birth, ever froward. It is for truth
reported, that the Duchess his mother had so much ado in her travail, that she could
not be delivered of him uncut: and that he came into the world with the feet forward,
as men be born outward, and (as the fame runneth) also not untoothed, whither men of
hatred report above the truth, or else that nature changed her course in his beginning,
which in the course of his life many things unnaturally committed. None evil captain
was he in the war, as to which his disposition was more meetly than for peace. Sundry
victories had he, and sometime overthrows, but never in default as for his own person,
either of hardiness or politic order, free was he called of dispense, and somewhat
above his power liberal, with large gifts he got him unsteadfast friendship, for which
he was fain to pill and spoil in other places, and get him steadfast hatred. He was close
and secret, a deep dissimuler, lowly of countenance, arrogant of heart, outwardly
companionable where he inwardly hated, not letting to kiss whom he thought to kill:
dispitous and cruel, not for evil will always, but after for ambition, and either for the
surety or increase of his estate. Friend and foe was much what indifferent, where his
advantage grew, he spared no man death, whose life withstood his purpose. He slew
with his own hands King Henry the sixth, being prisoner in the Tower, as men
constantly say, and that without commandment or knowledge of the King, which
would undoubtedly if he had intended that thing, have appointed that butcherly office,
to some other than his own born brother.
Some wise men also ween, that his drift covertly conveyed, lacked not in
helping forth his brother of Clarence to his death: which he resisted openly, howbeit
somewhat (as men deemed) more faintly than he that were heartily minded to his
wealth. And they that thus deem, think that he long time in King Edward's life,
forethought to be King in case that that King his brother (whose life he looked that
evil diet should shorten) should happen to decease (as in deed he did) while his
children were young. And they deem, that for this intent he was glad of his brother's
death that Duke of Clarence, whose life must needs have hindered him so intending,
whither the same Duke of Clarence had he kept him true to his nephew the young
King, or enterprised to be King himself. But of all this Pointe, is there no certainty,
and whoso divineth upon conjectures, may as well shoot to far as to short. Howbeit
this have I by credible information learned, that the self night in which King Edward
died, one Mistlebrooke long ere morning, came in great haste to the house of one
Pottier dwelling in Redcross Street without Cripplegate: and when he was with hasty
rapping quickly let in, he showed unto Pottier that King Edward was departed. By my
truth man quod Pottier then will my master the Duke of Gloucester be King. What
cause he had so to think hard it is to say, whether he being toward him, any thing
knew that he such thing purposed, or otherwise had any inkling thereof: for he was
not likely to speak it of nought.
But now to return to the course of this history, were it that the Duke of
Gloucester had of old foreminded this conclusion, or was now at erst thereunto
moved, and put in hope by the occasion of the tender age of the young Princes, hi

More continues by describing Richard's character:

He was malicious, wrathful, envious, and from before his birth, ever perverse. 

He was close and secret, a deep dissembler, lowly of countenance, arrogant of heart, outwardly friendly where he inwardly hated, not omitting to kiss whom he thought to kill, pitiless and cruel, not for evil will always, but for ambition, and either for the surety or increase of his estate. Friend and foe was much the same, where his advantage grew, he spared no man death whose life withstood his purpose. He slew with his own hands King Henry the Sixth, being prisoner in the Tower, as men constantly say, and that without commandment or knowledge of the King, who would undoubtably, if he had intended such a thing, have appointed that butchery office to some other than his own born brother.

Nice guy huh? 

But Sir Thomas tips his hand by adding "as men constantly say" after bringing up the death of King Henry VI, telling us that he is relying on hearsay to tell his story rather than substantial evidence. Feel free to draw your own conclusions, as historians have for the past 500 years. 

From my reading on the subject of the deposed King Henry VI, his death would almost certainly have been ordered by the man who had a motive to kill him, namely Richard's brother and deposer of Henry, King Edward IV. While Richard may have had a part in Henry's death, he did serve as Lord Constable under his brother, there is no clear evidence of it.

By far the most serious accusation against Richard III, is that after his brother the king's death, Richard had his nephews, the two sons of Edward IV and immediate heirs to the throne, killed, thereby paving his own way to the crown. 

Unlike the case of King Henry VI, Richard had an obvious (if horrendous) motive to kill the two boys, who were moved to the Tower of London in preparation for the formal coronation of the eldest son, twelve year old Edward V. Yet it is almost certain that the Bishop of York and Wells, Robert Stillington petitioned that the two boys' births be ruled illegitimate, (there is a strong likelihood for that charge), making both ineligible to become king. There is also good reason to believe that it was Parliament who petitioned Richard to accept the crown, as they formally accepted Stillington's petition. Since his new role as king was a fait accompli, there seems little reason for Richard to have the boys killed. There is also no hard evidence of the boys having been killed at all, they simply vanished, perhaps for their own protection. As they say, no body no crime. This is another issue historians have been debating for centuries, making the case of The Two Princes in the Tower one of the most enduring whodunit mysteries of all time.

There is another inconvenient matter that contradicts the notion that Richard III was a pure monster. He was actually quite a decent king by many accounts, at least as far as the commoners were concerned. This from the Richard III Society:

Richard III's commitment to justice was evident in his actions and policies throughout his reign. He was known for his impartial administration of the law, protecting the poor, elderly, dispossessed, and powerless, and ensuring that the strong did not oppress the weak. His good works included providing legal redress for the poor, sending his treasurer’s servant to be tried and punished for a fracas, and leading a successful invasion of Scotland while bringing to the field of conflict the principles of mercy and justice.

And this from Britannica:

Richard III's Parliament was noted for its acts that improved conditions for ordinary people, such as allowing bail for persons imprisoned on suspicion of felony and protecting their possessions until formally tried and found guilty. The standard of juries selected for sheriffs' courts was raised, ensuring that more well-to-do individuals were less open to bribery.

I've also read speculation that had he lived, Richard whose reign only lasted two years, would have continued bringing reforms to the country that would have given common people more control, much to the chagrin of the nobles. This might explain why the army of Sir Stanley turned on him at Bosworth Field. 

Finally, there's one bit of irrefutable evidence that was unearthed in that now famous car park in Leicester in 2012 that refutes Thomas's and Shakespeare's histories, Richard's body. It was discovered that he did have a significant curvature of the spine, resulting from Scoliosis. While the condition would have caused him pain and perhaps had a slightly noticeable effect on his posture, in no way would it have caused him to have a hunched back nor any noticeable limp. And measurements of his skeleton show that Richard stood at about 5'8", slightly taller than average for a 15th Century English male.

This is important. From our 21st Century sensibilities, the emphasis on Richard's extreme physical issues provides us with a motivation for Richard's depravity as well as evokes at least a modicum of sympathy for his character. But to 16th Century observers like Sir Thomas and Shakespeare, the focus on his physical features only emphasizes Richard's ignominy as sad to say at the time, physical handicaps were intrinsically tied to moral handicaps. 

Because Richard's physical impairments are central to both Sir Thomas and Shakespeare's stories, the fact that there was little or no outward sign of any physical issues during his life casts doubt upon the rest of their accounts.

So, what are we to make of all this? Was Richard as bad as legend has it, or was he a truly good guy whose reputation was destroyed by the Tudors who killed him?

Most of the opinions I've read place him somewhere in between, not Sir Thomas or Shakespeare's monster, nor the saint that the Richard III Society and Philippa Langley seem to suggest. He was after all a Medieval English monarch, a group not known above all for their benevolence. 

The next obvious question is so what? Why should we care about an English king who died over 500 years ago?

For me, first and foremost is justice. To understand that, we need to ask ourselves the following: "how would I feel if after I'm gone and unable to defend myself, I was judged harshly by history based upon falsehoods?" I think most of us would object to that.

A close second I believe is that understanding history is a very important tool to help us understand the world in which we live. By understanding history, I don't mean the ability to regurgitate facts and dates presented to us in high school history class, but an understanding about how those facts got to us in the first place, and how they fit into the larger picture. 

One thing we can thank the current US administration for, perhaps the only thing, is the lesson we learn from their example of how easy it is for those in a position of power to rewrite history, even deny events we can see with our own eyes, with impunity to suit their own purposes.

As we just saw, there's nothing new about that, we've seen it all before.

Finally, what are we to make of Sir Thomas and Shakespeare's works on Richard III, and others, that have dubious historical merit? Should we toss them into the proverbial trash heap of history, dismissing them (in contemporary jargon) as "fake news"?

That would be missing the point.

It must be remembered that in Sir Thomas More's and William Shakespeare's day, writing something that displeased the monarch was grounds for losing one's head, quite literally. I have a strong suspicion that both Shakespeare and Thomas were more interested in writing social commentary rather than historical records. Under the Tudor monarchs, the Henrys VII and VIII in Thomas's case, and Elizabeth I in Shakespeare's, the dead Plantagenet Richard was a politically safe subject on which to project the evils of raw ambition, vanity, lawlessness, and other ills these writers saw in their own times. 

I'm convinced that it was not by accident that the lawyer Sir Thomas More slipped in the line suggesting to us that what we are about to read is based not upon real evidence but rather hearsay, intentionally casting doubt about the specific events he presents, but not the general themes of the abuse of absolute power, corruption and treachery, to name just three.

It's also interesting that More's book was left unfinished at the time of its publication. Could it be that perhaps his depiction of royal tyranny was hitting a little too close to home?

Again, pure speculation on my part but something to think about.

The key to understanding history is critical thinking. It's a matter of being able to understand and accept that history doesn't come to us fully assembled, gift wrapped and placed under the tree on Christmas morning, but rather it comes in bits and pieces like furniture from IKEA with a few items missing and no set of instructions to put it all together. In other words, history is imperfect and messy.

In that sense these works of Sir Thomas and Shakespeare don't necessarily speak to a particular time and place, but to all time and to every place.

Even our own time and place 500 years hence you ask?

Perhaps we need them here and now more than ever. But that's a story for next time. Stay tuned.