King Richard III a fascinating character
By Mike Haynes
The
announcement in Leicester, England, 12 days ago didn’t get much attention in
the Texas Panhandle, but for anyone interested in history or literature, it
should have.
“After 500
years, Richard III’s bones yield their secret.” That was the headline I noticed
on the Reuters news service website Feb. 4. Had I not taken a Texas Tech course
on Tudor England a few decades ago, I probably wouldn’t have paid much
attention, either, but I knew that Richard III, king of England from 1483 to
his death in 1485, was a fascinating character in real life.
Shakespeare made him even more
compelling.
The big
news on Feb. 4 was that University of Leicester archeologists had found
Richard’s skeleton, long lost to history. The Reuters story said:
“A skeleton with
a cleaved skull and a curved spine dug up from under a car park is that of
Richard III …, solving a 500-year-old mystery about the final resting place of
the last English king to die in battle.”
In Great Britain, a “car park” is a parking
lot, and this one covered the foundation of Greyfriars Church, where Richard’s
body had been buried after his conqueror had it displayed to prove Henry’s
victory.
Phillipa
Langley of the Richard III Society had instigated a search for Richard’s body
four years ago. “We don’t normally lose our kings,” Langley told journalists.
It isn’t
often that a plot point in a Shakespearean drama plays out in the modern world.
In “Richard III,” written during the Tudor Elizabeth’s reign a century after
Richard’s death, the Bard described the king as an evil hunchback, “deformed
and unfinished.”
Photos of
the newly discovered skeleton show a dramatically curved spine that experts say
resulted from scoliosis. Richard’s skull has eight wounds, which scientists
described as “clearly inflicted in battle and suggesting the king had lost his helmet.”
According to
Shakespeare, he also had lost his horse.
Skeleton of Richard III with curved spine. (University of Leicester photo) |
Deeper
research indicates that, whether Richard III committed evil acts or not, he
apparently had a compassionate side that was devoted to the Catholic Church of
his time.
According to
the Richard III Society, he was influenced heavily by his mother, Cecily,
Duchess of York, who was considered “one of the most saintly women of her
generation.” Eleven surviving books are known to have been in Richard’s
library, and four were devotional: a Book of Hours, which included daily
prayers; a John Wycliffe English translation of the New Testament; a paraphrase
of the Old Testament; and “The Book of Special Grace” for meditation.
Richard
donated to many church causes. He supported 100 priests at the cathedral in
York, his hometown, and built church colleges in several locations. His
generosity revealed a concern for the poor, and he attended Mass regularly.
Lynda Pidgeon of the Richard III Society wrote, “Richard fulfilled his
obligations and more, and for a medieval prince that was remarkable.”
We can’t
conclude from the superficial evidence whether this infamous king actually was
a spiritual man. Historians will continue to debate his character. But finding
those bones in a modern car park certainly revives the controversy.
And I’m
fascinated.
(For more information on Richard III, go to http://www.le.ac.uk/richardiii .)