Richard III Read online

  Richard III

  England’s Black Legend

  Desmond Seward

  Copyright © 2013, Desmond Seward

  This edition first published in 2013 by:

  Thistle Publishing

  36 Great Smith Street

  London

  SW1P 3BU

  For Reresby and Penelope Sitwell

  CONTENTS

  COPYRIGHT

  LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

  GENEALOGICAL TABLES:

  The Houses of Lancaster, Beaufort and Tudor

  The House of York

  FOREWORD

  INTRODUCTION: THE BLACK LEGEND

  1 THE DIFFICULT BIRTH

  2 ‘OUR BROTHER OF GLOUCESTER’

  3 WARWICK TRIES TO UNMAKE A KING

  4 THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE

  5 THE END OF THE HOUSE OF LANCASTER

  6 THE RIVALRY WITH CLARENCE

  7 RICHARD IN THE NORTH

  8 ‘PROTECTOR AND DEFENDER’

  9 ‘KING RICHARD THE THIRD’

  10 ‘HIM THAT HAD BEST CAUSE TO BE TRUE’

  11 THE DEATH OF RICHARD’S SON

  12 ‘OUR GREAT HEAVINESS’

  13 ‘THE KING’S ENEMIES BE A-LAND’

  EPILOGUE

  NOTES

  BIBLIOGRAPHY

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  FIGURES

  1. The stall plate of Richard as a Knight of the Garter (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  2. Sudeley Castle, from A Collection of Engravings of Castles, Abbeys and Towns in England and Wales by Samuel and Nathaniel Buck, 1726

  3. Crosby Place (Carden & Godfrey, Architects, London)

  4. Scarborough, from A Collection of Engravings of Castles, Abbeys, etc., S. and N. Buck

  5. Jane Shore (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  6. Baynard’s Castle (Fotomas Index)

  7. Sir Thomas Vaughan (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  8. Dr John Argentine (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  9. Warwick Castle, from A Collection of Engravings of Castles, Abbeys, etc., S. and N. Buck

  10. Sir John Fogge, from Kentish Brasses, collected by W. D. Belcher, 1888

  11. Nicholas Gaynesford (courtesy of The Monumental Brass Society)

  12. Extract from William Caxton’s Book of the Order of Chivalry

  13. Pontefract Castle, from A Collection of Engravings of Castles, Abbeys, etc., S. and N. Buck

  14. Dr Christopher Urswick (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  15. Reconstruction of Nottingham Castle (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  16. Sheriff Hutton Castle, from A Collection of Engravings of Castles, Abbeys, etc., S. and N. Buck

  17. Sir Humphrey Stanley (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  18. The Blue Boar Inn at Leicester, formerly known as the White Boar (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  19. Sir Gervaise Clifton (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  20. John Sacherevell of Snetterton and Hopwell (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  21. Roger Wake (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  PLATES

  1. Middleham Castle (A. F. Kersting)

  2. King Henry VI (by kind permission of the Provost and Fellows of King’s College, Cambridge)

  3. Edward IV (Society of Antiquaries of London)

  4. Margaret of York (Réunion des Musées Nationaux, Paris)

  5. Queen Elizabeth Woodville (President and Fellows of Queens’ College, Cambridge)

  6. James III, King of Scots with James IV (the Royal Collection © 1997 Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II)

  7. Ely Place (Pitkin Pictorials)

  8. Edward V (by permission of the Dean and Canons of Windsor)

  9. Richard’s badge of the White Boar (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  10. William Catesby (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  11. Margaret Beaufort (by courtesy of the Marquess of Salisbury)

  12. Richard’s prayer book (the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Trustees of Lambeth Palace Library)

  13. Ralph Fitzherbert (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  14. Supposed tomb of Edward, Price of Wales (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  15. Elizabeth of York (by courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London)

  16. Henry VII (Society of Antiquaries of London)

  17. Battleaxe (Glasgow Museums: Art Gallery and Museum, Kelvingrove)

  18. Sir John Cheyney (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  19. Relief depicting the Battle of Bosworth (Geoffrey Wheeler)

  Houses of Lancaster, Beaufort and Tudor

  House of York

  ‘And every tongue brings in a several tale,

  And every tale condemns me for a villain.’

  Shakespeare, King Richard III

  FOREWORD

  This is a very personal interpretation of Richard III. No book on the Heathcliff of English Kings can be anything else. It is difficult to avoid having strong views on a man who committed what were arguably the most infamous murders in English history.

  I have been enthralled by him since I was eleven years old. For a long time I believed passionately in his innocence (so well and persuasively argued in Josephine Tey’s charming novel, The Daughter of Time). As I grew older and learnt to appreciate Thomas More, I began to wonder how someone of such integrity could stoop to character assassination – even though posthumous – as he appeared to, in his history of Richard. Then, having read Paul Murray Kendall, I was inclined to think that the Duke of Buckingham had killed Edward V and his brother (although this was not Kendall’s view). Yet More, not a man to tell lies, still made me uneasy. My final position as a believer in Richard’s innocence was a despairing compromise. Something ‘must have gone wrong’ – he had been misunderstood by his henchmen, who perhaps killed the boys during a crisis.

  At last I read the actual sources, the testimony of men who had been observers in London when he seized power in 1483. Reluctantly, I became convinced of his guilt. Once the conversion started I found myself suspecting that the seizure and the murders were both part of a contingency plan – in case his brother Edward IV should die prematurely – which he had laid well in advance.

  As others have discovered before me, the evil Richard is even more interesting than the good Richard. Instead of being the victim of a lost cause, he becomes one of the most alarming figures in European history. But to accept his guilt it is indispensable to read at least a summary of the sources. Hence my regrettably complex Introduction to the book.

  I must apologize for any affront to the feelings of so many people who are – and who always will be – convinced of his innocence. I once shared their conviction and know how sincerely it is held.

  Besides incorporating the most recent scholarship, this new, revised edition reflects what has been learned from Richard’s skeleton – that he was indeed a hunchback and how he died. It also tells us where he had hoped to be buried.

  Introduction

  THE BLACK LEGEND

  ‘It is therefore convenient somewhat to show you ere we further go, what manner of man this was that could find in his heart so much mischief to conceive.’

  Sir Thomas More, The History of King Richard the Third

  ‘There is a kind of literary superstition, which men are apt to contract from habit, and which makes them look on any attempt towards shaking their belief in any established characters, no matter whether good or bad, as a sort of profanation.’

  Horace Walpole, Historic Doubts on the Life and Reign of King Richard III

  ‘Richard casts a strange spell. To fascinate Sir Thomas More and Shakespeare, Horace Walpole and G.K. Chesterton, is no mean feat. The Life and Death of King Richard the Third is arguably its author’s greatest historical play (although Dr Johnson differed), while More’s biography of him was admitted to be ‘a very beautiful one’ even by Walpole: the latter’s elegant Historic Doubts about Richard’s villainy were admired by Edward Gibbon. In mo
dern times the King has attracted a remarkable assortment of writers. He is the object of a romantic cult that has recently been given new life by the discovery of his skeleton.1

  Last of the old Plantagenet dynasty, Richard was not just the last Englishman but the sole Northcountryman – if by adoption – to reign over England. We have had English Kings, French Kings, Welsh Kings, Scots Kings and German Kings, but only once a Northcountry King. His reign was the one reign when the southern English had cause to resent an influx of Northerners into positions of power and influence. At the same time he possessed the qualities of an Italian tyrant. He was the most terrifying man ever to occupy the English throne, not excepting his great-nephew Henry VIII. His short life was filled by intrigue and slaughter, and he was the only King of England – other than Harold – to be defeated and killed in battle.2 Above all, he still remains a mystery.

  Richard has left two popular legends. The earlier is Shakespeare’s crookback, whose element of caricature has been heightened by a theatrical tradition stretching from Colley Cibber to Laurence Olivier (though Shakespeare was nearer the truth than some of the King’s latter-day defenders). The second, later, legend is of a folk hero manqué, a gallant young ruler, the supreme victim of political vilification in English history. Supporters of this ‘white’ legend have produced some very entertaining literature in portraying Richard as a martyr to Tudor propaganda. Horace Walpole is at his most polished in questioning the ‘black’ legend, while Sir Clements Markham shows inspired ingenuity in attributing the murder of the ‘Princes in the Tower’ to Henry VII, but the writings of Walpole and Markham belong no less to fiction than does Josephine Tey’s delightful novel, The Daughter of Time, in which she too questions the case against Richard.

  On the whole modern historians take the view that he was more like the white legend, though admitting he was responsible for the deaths of Edward V and his brother. They acquit him of other crimes and have developed a ‘grey’ legend. They cannot accept that any Englishman could have been so much of a Renaissance tyrant. The case for the black legend is in danger of being lost by default – because nowadays it is so seldom heard. Yet, amended in the light of modern research, it offers much the most convincing portrait of Richard.

  There are two short contemporary accounts of his reign – the résumé in the Croyland Chronicle (the chronicle of the monks of Croyland Abbey) and Mancini’s eyewitness description of the usurpation of 1483. Polydore Vergil’s Anglica Historia, which deals comparatively briefly with Richard, was finished by 1513. Vergil (who came to England in 1502) had spoken to many survivors from the King’s time. Probably he also had access to material unknown to Thomas More, though the latter, a personal friend, may have read his work in draft. More is unquestionably the most influential of Richard’s early historians; but for him the King would be a shadowy figure. Clearly he was writing an epic as well as history and strove for dramatic effects, yet as a man famous for plain dealing and love of truth – he paid for it with his life – it is impossible to dismiss his account. When his History of King Richard the Third first appeared in the 1540s, incorporated into popular chronicles, it is surely significant that it was at once accepted at face value. Further, a meticulous analysis of the evidence together with skilful textual criticism have established beyond question that during the King’s short reign many people believed that he had murdered his nephews and others too. (By September 1483 at latest, it was certainly obvious to the highest in the land – including the boys’ mother – that the ‘Princes in the Tower’ were dead.) Early in 1485 he actually had to assure publicly a specially summoned assembly of London citizens that he had not poisoned his wife.

  Admittedly some distinguished scholars reject the black legend. The late E. F. Jacob in The Fifteenth Century (1961), considers Richard ‘very far from being the active monster of tradition’, while Professor Myers quotes in ‘The Character of Richard III’ (1954) with approval a Tudor opinion – ‘Although he did evill, yet in his tyme wer many good actes made.’3 Perhaps, though, when he reigned the evil outweighed any good he might have done in the eyes of most Englishmen. And Myers omits to point out that ‘actes’ refers to Acts of Parliament.

  Remarkable ingenuity is shown in trying to explain away More’s testimony in particular. The late Professor Kendall, the author of Richard the Third (1955), which has been for many years the most detailed and popular modern life of the King (even if Dr Alison Hanham in her Richard III and his Early Historians (1975) dismisses it to ‘the realm of fiction’) suggests that More wanted ‘not primarily to blacken Richard’s character for the gratification of the Tudors, but to make the malign figure given him even more malign in the good cause of humanist education’, and that the book was meant ‘in part at least, as an attack, by horrible example, on the realpolitik, the new power politics of the age’.4

  Professor Charles Ross expresses this argument more subtly in The Wars of the Roses (1976) by stating simply that Sir Thomas’s book is ‘very much a treatise on tyranny’, which does not alter the fact that Richard was very much a tyrant. Myers is of the same opinion as Kendall and Ross, considering it ‘questionable whether More regarded himself as writing history; his story is much more like a drama, unfolded in magnificent prose, for which fidelity to historical fact is scarcely relevant’. Even Dr Hanham accepts this view, carrying it to extremes. She believes that Sir Thomas was determined to shape his story into a satisfyingly epic form, that he used models from Roman history as to how wicked men should behave, that he treated his sources with scant respect, altering and embroidering the historical record, and that his imagination was excessively dramatic. Above all, she dismisses the History as a ‘satirical drama’ and ‘a joke against historians’.5

  But More is not our only source of information about Richard III. Kendall is hardly convincing in his attempts to justify the grey legend. He cites ‘general agreement’ among modern scholars. ‘Discarding once and for all the Tudor tradition, and basing their researches on fifteenth-century sources, they [the scholars] have worked to illuminate the complex character and the strangely flawed career of the man who was successively a loyal brother, usurping uncle and able King.’ The truth is that nothing of importance in Richard’s defence has been found for a century. Even by 1898 the hostile Gairdner was already aware of the King’s popularity with the citizens of York. The few discoveries in recent times have all confirmed that he was violent and ruthless.6 Moreover, a surprising amount of evidence cited by proponents of the grey legend to acquit Richard of such lesser crimes as murdering Henry VI – or even Edward of Lancaster – will bear a precisely opposite interpretation.

  There are, however, signs that academic opinion is at last turning from the grey to the black legend. In Government and Community: England 1450–1509 (1980) Professor Lander concedes that ‘Richard’s reputation had fallen extremely low in his own lifetime. There was not really much scope for it to be posthumously blackened by Tudor propaganda.’

  The King’s first modern biographer was James Gairdner, who published his History of the Life and Reign of Richard the Third in 1898. Gairdner was an extremely professional and knowledgeable nineteenth-century historian, the editor of the Paston Letters and of the Letters and Papers Illustrative of the Reigns of Richard III and Henry VII. He had no hesitation in accepting the black legend. He confesses to have been momentarily shaken in his youth by Walpole’s Doubts, but since then ‘a minute study of the facts of Richard’s life has tended more and more to convince me of the general fidelity of the portrait with which we have been made familiar by Shakespeare and Sir Thomas More’. Admittedly Gairdner is old-fashioned, occasionally naïve, and much too unquestioning in his acceptance of Tudor tradition. Nevertheless, he had an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of most of the sources and his instinct was often a sure one.

  While Kendall may claim ‘general agreement’ among scholars, there have been some very distinguished historians in recent times who largely accept the black legend and much
of More. They include the late Professor Pollard and Dr A. L. Rowse. In 1933 Pollard, in ‘The Making of Sir Thomas More’s Richard III’, demolished the argument that the material for More’s history was given to him as a credulous young man by Cardinal Morton, an enemy of Richard. Sir Thomas is unlikely to have begun the book before 1513, when he was thirty-five. (Dr Hanham has suggested that he may not have started it until 1519 and may still have been working on it in the 1530s.) Pollard shows that More – old enough to have seen King Richard, being seven at the time of Bosworth – was acquainted with many others besides Morton who remembered his reign. Sir John Cutts, Richard’s Receiver of Crown Lands and the King’s cousin by marriage, was More’s predecessor as Under-Treasurer while his kinsman William Roper was Richard’s Commissioner of Array for Kent. He also knew such influential and informed prelates as Archbishop Warham and Bishops Fox and Fitzjames – the latter had been Treasurer of St Paul’s during Richard’s reign. And as a successful London lawyer, even More’s father must have known the City gossip of the day.

  In Dr Rowse’s view, in Bosworth Field and the Wars of the Roses (1966), ‘The traditional story, as it has come down to us, is perfectly plain and clear … everything that has come to light in our own time is completely consistent with it, bears it out, confirms it.’ As for Sir Thomas, ‘More has so much to tell us that comes from people concerned in those happenings.’ Like Pollard, Rowse considers that ‘There was no lack of people who knew what had happened; but it was too appalling and too dangerous to write it down.’ Rowse also agrees with Pollard in attributing many of More’s errors to reliance on oral tradition, though emphasizing how he is borne out again and again by contemporary writers of whose existence he was unaware.

  Dr Hanham is another distinguished scholar who inclines to the black rather than the grey or white legends. Her study of Richard and his early historians is deeply impressive. Yet one questions her judgement that More was writing ‘primarily as a literary craftsman, not as the investigator of historical evidence’ – his instincts as a lawyer cannot be dismissed so cavalierly. There is no sign of contemporaries regarding his book as satirical, though they appreciated its irony and humour; Roger Ascham, Queen Elizabeth’s tutor, considered it a model of historical writing. On the other hand, Dr Hanham stresses that