K.L. Clark's Blog, page 5

6 things the discovery of Richard III’s remains isn’t going to do

1. Clear him of all the crimes laid at his door by Shakespeare, More &c.

Despite the fact that common sense tell us this is impossible, it pops up every now and then, a wan hope, the most wishful of wishful thinking. A good many of the crimes of Shakespeare’s Richard are patent nonsense. Putting those aside, the accusations that this discovery* won’t solve are: 1. did Richard usurp his nephew’s throne? 2. did Richard order the deaths of his nephews? 3. did Richard poison his queen? 4. was Richard planning to marry Elizabeth of York? Nor will it absolve him of the deaths of four men, executed (so far as there’s any evidence) without trial. Assuming the remains are Richard’s, they will tell us nothing about his personality or his personal history. They will certainly tell us nothing about his guilt or innocence.

2. Prove Shakespeare, More &c right.

Tudor Propaganda, we’re told, was the source of the ‘Crookback’ myth. If they were right about that (‘they’ weren’t, there’s a world of difference between kyphosis and scoliosis) then surely the world will leap on this and claim that the TPM** must be right about everything else!

Firstly, as I keep being reminded in other contexts, stories get distorted over time. Clearly, if the skeleton with the curved spine is Richard, then those stories had some basis. More may have been writing satire. If he was, his work isn’t the only satire in history that’s been mistaken for the genuine article. That’s also a possibility with Shakespeare’s Richard III. So, the King with the curved spine becomes a stand in for Robert Cecil who did have some kind of spinal ‘deformity’. And, in the medieval world, physical ‘deformity’ was often equated with evil. That’s not the way we see things now, or I seriously hope it’s not! So, even if the TPM is proved ‘right’ about Richard’s physical imperfection, a connection between that and ‘evil’ isn’t proved.

3. Embarrass the ‘traditionalists’ into changing their views.

Historians who have written that, on the balance of probability, Richard was more likely to have ordered the deaths of the Princes than not (or than anyone else) aren’t going to feel any embarrassment at that. And I wonder why anyone thinks they should. They have researched and read, and interpreted what information is available, and come to a conclusion. Just as the revisionists have. What will change minds (traditionalist or revisionist) is a reappraisal of current sources or a new source. There’s no need for ‘traditionalist’ historians to be embarrassed, so long as their work is sound and can stand up to questioning and challenge. There’s no need for ‘revisionist’ historians to be embarrassed, so long as the same conditions apply.

4. Turn Richard into the world most popular romantic hero.

Like any disparate, loosely connected group of people who share an interest, those of us interested in history live at least part of our lives in a bubble. We are all caught up in the excitement of the discovery, our google alerts keep us supplied with articles, blogs &c about the discovery, we discuss it among ourselves (ad nauseam). The rest of the world (by and large) doesn’t really care. History groups on facebook are awash with discussion about the Leicester dig and the upcoming press conference. My own personal page is a desert by comparison. No-one in my family cares. None of my non-history friends care. There’s no requirement that they should and no expectation that they’ll all rush out and buy Sunne in Splendour in order to join the Ricardian party.

5. Shame Queen Elizabeth II for her illegitimate ancestry.

This is one of the weirder ones. In discussions of where and how Richard should be buried, the idea that the Queen is personally blocking a state funeral to keep attention away from a crackpot theory about the ‘real’ father of Edward IV leaves me baffled. If there’s no funeral, state or otherwise, it’ll be because the person found in Greyfriars has already had a funeral. I hope he is quietly reburied at Leicester Cathedral with no great fuss. Richard’s life ended in great indignity. I hope some of that is restored to him via a quiet, respectful burial. I didn’t personally know Richard and he certainly never knew me. Had I been alive in his time, he’d never have heard of me. I don’t own him, (moderate) Ricardian or not.

6. Clear up the mystery of what happened to the Princes.

Unless an explanation is etched into the bones, we’re no closer now to solving that particular mystery than we were before. I worry that there are some expecting some kind of miracle; for the world to wake up on the morning of the announcement, knowing all that befell during Richard’s reign.

7. Vindicate every revisionist argument. Ever.

There are members of the Richard III Society and staunch Ricardians who should be praised and lauded for the work they’ve done to find the remains in Greyfriars Church. Hard work, research and lobbying all played their part in getting the dig up and running. The archaeologists at Leicester University deserve praise as well. If this was a just world, those Ricardians who worked so hard would be rewarded, not just with finding the remains but by being utterly vindicated in their view of Richard. Sadly, this isn’t a just world. There remains, still, the possibility that some document or other will be unearthed that puts Richard firmly in the frame. (I think we must allow for this possibility in order to maintain our intellectual honesty.) And that would bring a double irony to this story. Richard’s genetic identity (should it prove conclusive) relies on the dna of a young woman whose father Richard executed. If any evidence of his culpability in the deaths of the princes ever turns up, the location of his physical remains will have relied on a dedicated group of people who believed, wholeheartedly, in his innocence. This second irony is one I hope we’ll never have to face, but wishful thinking and history don’t go together. History was what it was.

Now for some things the discovery of Richard’s remains is going to do

1. Bring some kind of closure for a lot of people

When archaeologists are looking at sites of ancient habitation, there are three things they look for in determining whether it’s a human site or pre-human: evidence of bodily adornment; evidence of trade; evidence of deliberate and respectful disposal of the dead. We need to know where the people we love, admire and respect are buried. We need memorials to them, places where their remains lie (or are scattered). It’s why some people are buried in secret locations – to stop others, for good or ill, coming to their grave sites. It’s why the families of missing persons find some relief (but renewed grief) when their bodies are found. It’s why it’s so sad that (among others) we don’t know where Queen Anne Nevill or her uncle. George Archbishop of York, or her father, the earl of Warwick, and his brother, John, are buried. It’s why Warwick and Edward IV both relocated the remains of their fathers and brothers. It’s why we go to funerals; why we have urns on our mantlepieces; why we hire stonemasons to carve headstones; why we build, if we have the means, elaborate tombs; why we must know where the people we love have ended up. It’s such a deep seated part of our humanness. I can’t go to Bisham Priory to pay my respects to the Nevills. Once Richard is reburied (most probably in Leicester Cathedral) I can, if I wish, visit his grave.

2. Get people interested in Richard III, the Wars of the Roses and history

I don’t think they’ll be coming in their hordes, knocking down the doors of the Richard III Society in their rush to join, but the press coverage will surely have sparked some interest. Whether they think Richard a hero or a villain, all are welcome!

3. Put a face to the name

That’s something so many people are looking forward to. We have the NPG portrait, which shows us a fairly unspectacular man, neither of saintly nor villainous visage. The facial reconstruction of the skull will give us a three dimensional view of him. I won’t get to see the Channel 4 documentary (like so many other interested parties), or not unless it’s uploaded to something like youtube, so I’ll be relying on the kindness of strangers. If a reconstructed Richard resembles his portrait, it’ll give us slightly renewed confidence in other portraits from the time.

4. Bring some balance to the discussion

A lot of people come to their interest in history, a particular time or person in history, through reading historical fiction. This is well attested to and particularly applicable to Ricardians. I have no issue with this, it’s how things started for me. What I’m really looking forward to seeing are contributions from people whose interest in history, the Wars of the Roses and Richard III has come from the press coverage, blogs and social media discussion about the dig. These will be people with no (or few) preconceptions, who haven’t bought into this or that author’s view of Richard. They will come with a clean slate. It’s not, for me, a matter of grabbing their hearts and minds before the ‘traditionalists’ do, it’s about making a welcome and giving time and space for them to come to their own view of the man. Three years ago, when my interest in history became more active, I was looking forward to a new synthesis about Richard. We had the thesis – Evil Villain Richard – that had prevailed for centuries; and the relatively new antithesis – Saintly Pious Richard. The most exciting development is yet to come – the new synthesis. It’s a conversation I’m really looking forward to being part of.

* I am presuming, for the sake of this discussion, that the announcement this evening (tomorrow morning for many of you) will confirm the remains as Richard’s.

** The Tudor Propaganda Machine. Yes, propaganda certainly existed at the time but the ‘Tudors’ didn’t invent it. Richard duke of York was using it against Somerset and Margaret of Anjou in the 1450s. Edward IV used it after he became king. Warwick used it, any chance he got. Richard III used it when he became king. And Henry VII certainly did. It wasn’t unique and it wasn’t new. I’m afraid I’ve got to the point where, if I see or hear these words, I want to scream. Anything, it seems, can be written off as ‘Tudor Propaganda’. Some of it isn’t. Related to  #2 above, knowing that the ‘crookback’ myth wasn’t made up by propagandists (distorted and exaggerated, yes, but not made up) might lead us to a reappraisal of some other things that have been labelled ‘Tudor Propaganda’. What that will lead to, as it usually does, is a great deal of difficulty sorting out the myth from the not-myth, and we may be faced with some unpalatable conclusions.

Here’s Susan Higganbotham’s Leicester Dig Countdown, if you’re looking for some (welcome) light relief.

Clothes and why I hate them

I wear clothes. I like nice clothes. I have an impressive collection of jeans and t-shirts and a really cool dress for wearing to weddings. So I may have misled you a little with the post title. I don’t ‘hate’ clothes. I just hate having to talk about them. I hate even more having to write about them. I want to say: “She’s wearing a dress, ok? And it’s green!” or “He had this kind of doublety thing on and a really neat hat, all wrapped in this sort of velvety furry thing, wotchacallit, cloak? Something like that.” But I can’t possibly hope to get away with that in a zillion years, so I’ve had to do something about it. So, I bought a book. It came highly recommended by some re-enactor friends, who like to get things perfect. It’s called The Medieval Tailor’s Assistant and it’s pretty cool! It has pictures and patterns and all kinds of stuff. Not that I plan on making any of these clothes myself. The only quibble I have (and it’s not a reasonable quibble by any stretch of imagination) is that it’s, well, medieval. What I really want is a book packed with stuff specifically about the 15th century, but I’m not going to complain, mainly because of this:

Image from: http://www.kats-hats.co.uk/chaperon.shtml

I have fallen in love with men in chaperons. The right style on the right head, and that is seriously sexy.

But that’s beside the point and probably more than you need to know.

My eyes start to cross when I come upon minute descriptions of clothes in historical fiction. Other readers love them, so this is no criticism of those writers. It’s me, and my fashion blindness, and my inability to translate “He wore a doublet of fine blue velvet embroidered with periwinkles, cut close to his body, at the neck a small ruffle of linen. The sleeves were slashed to reveal his undershirt, which was of the newer style &c &c &c’ into any kind of meaningful picture. My fault, entirely. i mean, you could describe that chaperon to me and I’d be all, What? Around his where? And what the hell’s a liripipe when it’s at home?

So you see my dilemma. I have to deal with 15th century clothes by walking a fine line between what I want to write (and what I’d want to read) and what other people might appreciate. There will be no ‘down to the last seed pearl’ stuff, that’s a rock solid promise. But, with my new book, I at least have some clue how various articles of clothing were made and worn. So when Alice Fitzhugh dismisses her husband’s body servant (as she regularly does) so she can sensually undress him all by herself, I’ll know how she goes about it. And it might turn out to be a little less sexy than I’d hoped. So, check out the book and make sure you turn to p195. Maybe try turning your hand to making one for the special someone in your life. Definitely the perfect gift for the man who has everything!

The Tigress of Forli – Review

Some friends of mine were discussing Elizabeth’s Lev’s book about Catarina Sforza, The Tigress of Forli, so I thought I’d step outside my comfort zone and take a look. I’m used to bashing about in the Wars of the Roses, so I could cope with Renaissance Italy, right?

The nobility of 15th century Italy makes the nobility of 15th century England look like a bunch of amateurs. The rollcall of murder, assassination and intrigue almost left me traumatised! Give me Warwick unlawfully executing a handful of his enemies any day.

But seriously, this is an extremely good book. A ton of careful research went into it, it’s engagingly written and the people Lev writes about are well-rounded and three dimensional. I devoured this in two marathon sessions, unable to put it down. Catarina Sforza, her family and her enemies leap off the page.

Catarina was born into privilege, the illegitimate daughter of the Duke of Milan. Women of her time and class settled down quietly, and demurely, into marriage and motherhood. But from the very start, given her father’s choice of husband, she had to step outside her expected womanly role and take charge of her family, her fortune and her estates. Her journey through life was rarely without incident. Wife, mother, widow, lover, warrior, papal prisoner… occasionally a victim and, from time to time, a woman of terrible vengeance, Catarina faced challenge after challenge and, until she came face to face with Cesare Borgia, somehow managed to come out on top.

If – in a parallel dimension, where Catarina had never been born – someone wrote a novel based on her life, there’d be howls of protest. “That would never happen!”; “Women just didn’t do that!”; “A 21st century heroine projected back in time!”. But Catarina was all Renaissance Italy. She had celebrity but she also had substance and a strong spirit. I’m very glad I took a chance on this book, though I think won’t venture into 15th century Italy too often. As fascinating a time as it was, I’m not sure I could cope with the trauma!

Stars? You want stars? Ok – this book gets the full * * * * *

The Next Big Thing

Many thanks to Darlene Elizabeth Williams for tagging me in the Next Big Thing blog hop! Darlene is a prolific reviewer of historical fiction and is currently working on a book, which you can read all about when you click the link to her blog! It sounds like a most fascinating project.

 What is the working title of your next book?

Thomas & Maud. There will be other books in this series, all named for the titles of their main characters. As Thomas held no title and didn’t share his wife’s dowager title, the only way to maintain consistency here is to give the book this, fairly lowkey, name. But, hopefully, it says it all. Or nearly all. The book is about Thomas and Maud, but it’s also a little bit about Gervase. Thomas & Maud & Gervase sounds dumb though, and possibly a little misleading!

Where did the idea come from for the book?

There are so many books about the Wars of the Roses and, apart from Anne Nevill, the Nevills are often relegated to one-dimensional secondary characters. My original plan was to write the whole story of the Wars from their point of view, but that was in danger of getting way out of hand, so I’m breaking it into four, each with a married couple carrying the tale. As different members of the family were often in different places, and some died in the 1460s, some in 1471 and some much later, and they weren’t all doing the same things at the same time, (in fact, they wren’t always on the same side at the same time!) there’s not as much repetition of events as might be feared. There is some, but even this is told from different perspectives. Thomas and his wife, Maud Lady Willoughby, open the series.

What genre does your book fall under?

Historical fiction. Though there are elements of love and sex (we are talking about a young married couple) it’s NOT historical romance. And the sex is very muted and, I hope, tastefully done.

What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?

It would have to be a television drama, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves! Casting Thomas is quite difficult. I’d want a sense of continuity between him and his brothers and sisters, though usually, no two members of any one family are exactly alike. I’m not sure I’d be able to explain what I meant to a casting agency, but I’d know the right cast when I saw it! If my life depended on it, maybe someone like Guy Pearce. I see Maud as quite dark and dangerous, almost ‘exotic’, so a young Gina Bellman would do quite nicely here.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Behind every tragedy in her life, every mistake and every triumph, stands a man.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

That’s something yet to be determined. I want to publish in both paperback and ebook, so it might be a bit of both!

How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

Do I count all the false starts? Because the answer to that is ‘decades’! As a stand alone project, I started it two years ago and haven’t quite got the first draft completed. I research as I write. I don’t do all the research then sit down and do all the writing. With one last piece of information to get, I’m hoping to have it done some time this year.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I have no idea! In terms of sticking doggedly to the bones of the real story, I’m in the Susan Higginbotham School of Historical Fiction. In terms of writing style, I really can’t say.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

The Nevills themselves. The whole gloriously flawed, self-assured, larger than life family. Thomas is rarely given page space and I wanted him to stand up and be seen. From the perspective of actually getting down to research and write, I read a novel about John Nevill and his wife and felt the family deserved something better. And Susan Higginbotham, whose contribution to me getting up off my arse and getting things done has been incalculable.

What else about the book might pique the reader’s interest?

Two people who get scant mention in most novels and books of non-fiction are getting their very own book! There’s much more to Thomas Nevill than his death, and there’s far more to his wife than most people would imagine. Her life after her second widowhood was turbulent and fascinating. While we only get a glimpse of that in Thomas and Maud, her story will continue on through the other books, albeit not as a major character.

Here’s where I’m supposed to tag other writers, and I’m working on it! Given the time of year, there have been some delays, which I hope will be resolved soon. So maybe check back in the next few days for some exiting new books to read about.

2012 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

4,329 films were submitted to the 2012 Cannes Film Festival. This blog had 14,000 views in 2012. If each view were a film, this blog would power 3 Film Festivals

Click here to see the complete report.

New Year Special

Nevill TV – Highlights of the Week

Percy Shore

Egremont and Robert Percy travel to York to go clubbing. Their plans go haywire when Robert realises he’s left his club at Topcliffe.

The Real Housewives of Wensleydale

Alice and Anne still aren’t on speaking terms after Anne told Maud that Alice lied about being attainted. Alianor is thinking about running away with her new husband and Alice confides in Isobel that she might have to lock Alianor in a tower until she turns 18. Isobel and Maud giggle over the size of their husbands’ codpieces until Anne shows them her husband’s.

So You Think You Can Joust

Royal Wedding Final. Anthony Wydeville goes head to head with the Bastard of Burgundy. Includes candid interviews with the duchess of Bedford and a sneak peek at the Bastard’s cheersquad rehearsing their Break-a-Leg Madrigal.

Project Run Away

Me? I Wasn’t EvenThere! Challenge

With his narrow win over Warwick in last week’s Leave the Country challenge, and immunity for a record fifth time, the earl of Wiltshire is proving something of a dark horse. This week it’s a team challenge, with Warwick and Fitzhugh up against Wiltshire and Rivers and the knives are out. With the shock elimination of the popular John Nevill, the competition is wide open.

Who Do You Think You Are? (No, Really!)

Join two Edwards – the IV and of Lancaster – as they search for their real fathers.

Medieval Family

A convocation of bishops tries to have the gay ones stoned to death; the dusky princess from the far Amerikas searches London for a churros stand and the fat kid is eaten by the Archbishop of York.

Movie of the Week: Carry On Calais

It’s cross channel mayhem in this classic film. Warwick is up against it with the wily womanising Edward IV on his tail. There’s an Archbishop who just can’t get his head around the concept of celibacy and embarrassment all round when Elizabeth Wydeville discovers Margaret of Anjou’s codpiece collection.

I’m Aristocracy, Get Me Out of Here! – Tower of London

Up for elimination this week: Perkin Warbeck; the duke of Somerset and Henry VI. Vote for your favourite to keep them safe  – the intruder from Burgundy; the lovable rogue or the sensitive one.

Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads?

Edmund is preparing for his first battle, but there’s still plenty of time for one last night on the town with Edward. With George sneaking out of the castle to follow them, trouble can’t be far away for our lads! Meanwhile, Richard sulks at home with his sisters because he’s frail and angelic®.

My Big Fat Wydeville Wedding

It’s Kate ‘the Duchess’ Wydeville’s turn to get married and she’s determined to outshine her sister, Elizabeth. Trouble looms as a rival family from the Midlands attempt to kidnap the groom. Even if Kate gets her special dress finished in time, is the wedding over before it begins?

Dakota FitzPercy has a new adventure!

Exclusive (at the moment) to facebook, Dakota faces the End of the World!

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Dakota-FitzPercy/358993480797871?fref=ts

Catch up with the Story So Far… and stay tuned for further developments.

A Bolton! A Bolton! The White Hawk – A new book by David Pilling

I’d like to welcome David Pilling to the Feast to tell us a little about his new book. If it sounds like your kind of thing, read it!

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________Karen has kindly allowed me a guest spot to talk about Book One of The White Hawk, my new series of novels set during The Wars of the Roses.  This period, with its murderous dynastic feuding between the rival Houses of York and Lancaster, is perhaps the most fascinating of the entire medieval period in England. Having lost the Hundred Years War, the English nobility turned on each other in a bitter struggle for the crown, resulting in a spate of beheadings, battles, murders and Gangland-style politics that lasted some thirty years.

Apart from the savage doings of aristocrats, the wars affected people on the lower rungs of society. One minor gentry family in particular, the Pastons of Norfolk, suffered greatly in their attempts to survive and thrive in the feral environment of the late 15th century. They left an invaluable chronicle in their archive of family correspondence, the famous Paston Letters.

The letters provide us with a snapshot of the trials endured by middle-ranking families like the Pastons, and of the measures they took to defend their property from greedy neighbours. One such extract is a frantic plea from the matriarch of the clan, Margaret Paston, begging her son John to return from London:

“I greet you well, letting you know that your brother and his fellowship stand in great jeopardy at Caister… Daubney and Berney are dead and others badly hurt, and gunpowder and arrows are lacking. The place is badly broken down by the guns of the other party, so that unless they have hasty help, they are likely to lose both their lives and the place, which will be the greatest rebuke to you that ever came to any gentleman. For every man in this country marvels greatly that you suffer them to be for so long in great jeopardy without help or other remedy…”

The Paston Letters, together with my general fascination for the era, were the inspiration for The White Hawk. Planned as a series of three novels, TWH will follow the fortunes of a fictional Staffordshire family, the Boltons, from the beginning to the very end of The Wars of the Roses. Unquenchably loyal to the House of Lancaster, their loyalty will have dire consequences for them as law and order breaks down and the kingdom slides into civil war. The ‘white hawk’ of the title is the sigil of the Boltons, and will fly over many a blood-stained battlefield.

The head of the clan at the start of Book One: Revenge is Edward Bolton, an ageing veteran of the French wars. His wife, Dame Elizabeth, is the hard-nosed matriarch. They have three sons, Richard, James and Martin, and a daughter, Mary. Richard is heir to the Bolton estates, an impulsive and vengeful young man whose actions during the course of the book almost lead to the destruction of everything he holds dear. The second brother, James, is a drunken chaplain who must master his demons before he can fight for his kin. Martin is a small boy, much affected by the violence he sees all around him. Mary is a strong-willed and intelligent young woman faced with the task of holding everything together in the face of war and calamity.

If all this whets your appetite, then please check out the paperback and Kindle versions of Book One below…

The White Hawk – paperback version

Kindle version

The treason particle

“The only things known to go faster than ordinary light is monarchy, according to the philosopher Ly Tin Weedle. He reasoned like this: you can’t have more than one king, and tradition demands that there is no gap between kings, so when a king dies the succession must therefore pass to the heir *instantaneously*. Presumably, he said, there must be some elementary particles — kingons, or possibly queons — that do this job, but of course succession sometimes fails if, in mid-flight, they strike an anti-particle, or republicon. His ambitious plans to use his discovery to send messages, involving the careful torturing of a small king in order to modulate the signal, were never fully expanded because, at that point, the bar closed.”

Terry Pratchett, Mort

The kingon was very busy between the death of Edward IV on 9 April 1483 and Richard III’s acceptance of the crown on 26 June. First, the particle moved instantaneously from Edward IV to his son, Edward V. There it hovered, not quite settling in, until it found itself spinning from Edward to his uncle, Richard. And, given the story of the precontract and Edward being declared illegitimate, there’s reason to think that it had never been in Edward at all. Because Edward was never King. Edward V’s kingship was a bit like Schroedinger’s cat. It both existed and didn’t exist in the boy at the same time. The only way anyone was going to know for sure was when they opened the box. (Just to round things out, I might try and squeeze Heisinenberg’s uncertainty principle in here as well. I’m not promising, mind.)

Related to the kingon, but much rarer and far more mysterious, is the treason. Not only is it instantaneous and not particularly discriminatory, but it may be the only particle that can travel back in time.

Here’s my thinking:

Between 9 April and 26 June 1483, two states co-existed in potentia.

1. Edward V was King (had been since his father’s death and would be until his own death);

2. Edward V was not King (and had never been).

The kingon, therefore, was both in and not in young Edward. It was probably rather nervous. I can’t say I blame it.

On 13 June, 1483, William Lord Hastings was summarily executed in the Tower of London, having been accused of treason, dragged out of the council chamber and beheaded. So, what had he done to deserve this? It’s a question with a lot of possible answers, the simplest of which, and the one i hear most often, is ‘he committed treason’. In order to come anywhere close to an answer, we need to find out what treason is.

Here’s the Oxford Dictionaries definition.

The important part here for us is ‘attempting to kill or overthrow the sovereign’. Who was, at this time, recognised to be Edward V. So, if Hastings was guilty of treason, it had to be against Edward V.

I’m often told this isn’t necessarily the case. I’m told that attempting to kill or overthrow a Lord Protector (that is, at the time, Richard of Gloucester) is also treason. Which it is, because the Protector stands in for the King. But attempting to kill or overthrow a Lord Protector isn’t treason against the Protector, it’s still treason against the King. In 1454, when the duke of Exeter led a revolt attempting to have himself replace the duke of York as Protector of England during Henry VI’s first illness, he was arrested and locked up in a castle awaiting trial. Had Henry not recovered and, almost immediately, released Exeter, he might have been tried on charges of treason. Against Henry VI for messing with his stand in, the Lord Protector. He would not have been tried on charges of treason against the Protector himself. This is an important point…

…because Hastings is accused of plotting against Richard in order to ensure that Edward V was crowned and took his throne. As no-one in England took precedence over the King, any duty of loyalty Hastings owed Richard (or anyone) was soundly (and royally) trumped by the expectation of loyalty to Edward V. However you slice it, Hastings simply cannot be guilty of treason.

That’s all pretty straightforward. Except…

By 26 June, Edward was no longer King (and had never been king) and Richard was (and had been since his brother’s death). The kingon that had moved instantaneously from Edward IV to Edward V had now, by some strange twist of physics, moved instantaneously from Edward IV to Richard III. And not on 26 June but on 9 April. Which means that Hastings, despite him having been acting on behalf of the King, Edward V, had been acting against the King, Richard III. Only no-one knew that at the time. And, at the time, he wasn’t.

If you know where you are but not how fast you’re moving, then you’re doing better than me.

So, the treason that didn’t hit Hastings on 13 June (on 13 June), did hit him on 13 June (on 26 June). It travelled back in time.

If you’re planning a visit to Cern any time in the near future, I’d watch out for treasons. You might have been hit by one three days before you arrived.

Richard III and me

When I was about fourteen, I read Rosemary Hawley-Jarman’s We Speak No Treason and was swept away into a most wonderful world. The three unnamed narrators of the book presented a different side of a man I was just getting to know at a very impressionable age: Richard, Duke of Gloucester, later Richard III. I loved this book! I still have it on my shelf, the original hardback I bought after I wore out the copy in our local library. It’s still a wonderful book, but I see problems now that I didn’t when I was fourteen. The dialogue is a little Forsoothly, and some of the history is a little dodgy, but the device used – the three original characters narrating Richard’s story – still makes it a classic of historical fiction. That book very nearly turned me into an uncompromising, starry-eyed, love-him-till-I-die Ricardian.

What saved me was, oddly enough, another Hawley-Jarman book, The King’s Grey Mare, in which I (and I think I’ve mentioned this before) first met, in the literary flesh, Richard Nevill, earl of Warwick. Though it could be thought that I’ve come close at times, I’ve never quite become an uncompromising, starry-eyed, love-him-till-I-die Warwick fangirl. Ok, yes, I’m a fangirl, but I know the man’s (glaring) faults and I am happy to tell anyone who asks about the things that made him a Bad Man as well as those that suggested he might, from time to time, be a Good Man. What’s more important than any of these is that he was a most fascinating man!

I also read Daughter of Time, which gave me all the ammunition I needed to defend Richard. Bad Henry Tudor! He did in those little princes, coz it just makes more sense that way! Except, all these years later, with a grown up head on my shoulders and a far better understanding of the Wars of the Roses and the fifteenth century in general, I can’t have quite the same level of certainty.

But this post isn’t about Richard’s guilt or innocence, or Henry VII’s guilt or innocence. I was first a member of the Richard III Society back in the 1990s. Distance – a feeling of isolation – and some personal issues that had nothing to do with history, Richard or his Society, led me to a failure to renew my membership one year, and so it lasted until very recently. I rejoined (a different branch) last year and, though my dues are late (!), I will be renewing my membership in the next day or so. Despite my Nevill leanings, I was given a warm welcome by my branch. One member, and facebook friend, has very much become a Real Life friend. The Society has the opportunity to further scholarship on Richard’s reign and times. It ought to be an organisation that’s taken seriously Out There. I know the aims of the Society are to overturn the myths (often referred to as Tudor Propaganda) and rehabilitate Richard as king and as man. There’s a difference between that and denying vociferously that the man ever did any wrong in his entire life. There are explanations and excuses by the thousand, as well as outright denials. This is where many members of the Richard III Society and I part company, philosophically speaking.

At fourteen, I might have been enthralled by the portrait of a young man, deeply loyal to his family, deeply faithful to the woman he loved and married (and kind to the young girl who was once his mistress), strong in war, soft in love… But the older I get, the less that satisfies me. He was a man who married his wife at least in part for her property, who connived in the financial ruin of his mother-in-law in the process, who took his nephew’s throne (whatever the pretext, and however valid this pretext was), who ordered the executions of several men without trial, whose loyalty to Edward IV didn’t survive his death, who faced rumour, rebellion and invasion during his short reign… a man I want to get to know better, and not through biassed sources (one way or the other). I’d also love to discuss all this without feeling that I’m stepping outside received dogma. I was likened to an atheist not that long ago, someone who comes into a church and announces loudly that God is Dead. Apart from the disturbing image of an interest and support of Richard III as a religion, I don’t know enough to announce anything except: I don’t know.

I don’t know if Edward IV’s relationship with Eleanor Butler included a marriage, or precontract; I don’t know if this was enough to have his children declared illegitimate; I don’t know what happened to the boys. I’m reliably informed that, one night, a barge came up the Thames and the boys were taken aboard and sent to safety in Flanders. Without anyone knowing except those involved, and without any of them telling anyone else about it. Ever. And without either of the boys resurfacing in adulthood. (Perkin Warbeck, in my considered opinion, wasn’t the young Richard Duke of York. And, even if he was, he said that his brother had been murdered on Richard’s orders. This is not good news in light of Richard’s reputation. I’ve never understood how anyone can reconcile these two things: wanting Perkin to be young York, yet dismissing his own words regarding the fate of his brother.) I don’t know if they were spirited away to Flanders. On balance of evidence, it would seem not, and those who favour this theory have no evidence of it. I’m equally reliably informed, on an equal lack of evidence, that sir James Tyrell slipped into their quarters one night and smothered them both with a pillow, after which they were buried in the Tower, under a staircase. I don’t know if that happened, either.

I do know that William Hastings, Anthony Wydeville, Richard Grey and Thomas Vaughan were executed without trial. I do know that the young princes disappeared on Richard’s watch. I do know that he colluded with his brothers and his wife to have his mother-in-law financially ruined and declared dead. I also know he was a good soldier, that he and his queen seemed to have a good marriage, that he took care of his illegitimate children and loved his only legitimate child, that he had the makings of a pretty good king. And I want to know more.

So, I wonder, why isn’t that enough? Why isn’t wanting to know more, wherever it takes me and whatever conclusions I come to, enough?

The find in Leicester, the human remains that might well be Richard, has captured the public’s imagination far more than anyone would have thought it might. There are petitions circulating demanding ‘he’ be buried in York Minster. There are calls for a state funeral. The Bishop of Leicester, and the city’s mayor, have stated their case for ‘him’ remaining there, reburied at the cathedral. All this before we know for sure (or even a little bit) if the remains are Richard’s or not. We (those of us interested in Richard, the fifteenth century and the Wars of the Roses) have a marvellous opportunity to explore it all further and discuss it with a larger audience. The debate is, I fear, going to become cemented into two warring sides – those who think Richard could do no wrong and those who believe him guilty of serial murder. Those of us caught in the middle might just end up being squashed. And this is the reason I’m not just going to shut up and go away. Moderate, rational discussion that doesn’t come from a fixed and motionless point of either Guilt! or Innocence! is more important than ever. If anyone wants to join me in the middle ground, there will be a welcome, a cup of tea and just maybe a timtam or two.