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Richard III: my eight degrees of separation Richard III: my eight degrees of separation
(25 days later)
Some years ago, I came across an old newspaper cutting that included a letter from a distant relative of mine. It was written in 1919 and said that she had it, on the authority of an eyewitness, that Richard III was no hunchback.Some years ago, I came across an old newspaper cutting that included a letter from a distant relative of mine. It was written in 1919 and said that she had it, on the authority of an eyewitness, that Richard III was no hunchback.
The story came from the author’s grandfather, born in 1784. He told her father that his uncle’s grandfather had danced with the Countess of Desmond, who is supposed to have died falling out of a cherry tree at the ripe old age of 140. (Bear with me on this.) The countess, it seems, had danced with the young Richard III at a court banquet when she was a girl, and said he was very handsome and had no signs of deformity.The story came from the author’s grandfather, born in 1784. He told her father that his uncle’s grandfather had danced with the Countess of Desmond, who is supposed to have died falling out of a cherry tree at the ripe old age of 140. (Bear with me on this.) The countess, it seems, had danced with the young Richard III at a court banquet when she was a girl, and said he was very handsome and had no signs of deformity.
I met the letter writer’s brother before he died in 1967. That means I am separated from Richard III – if indeed it was him – by a mere eight steps. I cherish this story, in the face of all the evidence of mitochondrial DNA, partly through weak-headed romanticism, and partly through loyalty to my ancestors, who had clearly nursed the tale down the centuries. I met the letter writer’s brother before he died in 1967. That means I am separated from Richard III – if indeed it was him – by a mere eight steps. I cherish this story, in the face of all the evidence of mitochondrial DNA, partly through weak-headed romanticism, and partly through loyalty to my ancestors, who had clearly nursed the tale down the centuries.
You may think that by casting doubt on the twisted skeleton uncovered in a Leicester car park and identified by archaeologists as that of the king, I’ll be putting off potential visitors to the site of the empty grave, which opened to the public at the weekend. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, it puts a little mystery back into a site that seems to have lost most of it. And without mystery – or at least some political significance – tombs are not terribly interesting.You may think that by casting doubt on the twisted skeleton uncovered in a Leicester car park and identified by archaeologists as that of the king, I’ll be putting off potential visitors to the site of the empty grave, which opened to the public at the weekend. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, it puts a little mystery back into a site that seems to have lost most of it. And without mystery – or at least some political significance – tombs are not terribly interesting.
Yes, there is always something intriguing about unopened ones, which is perhaps why the enlightened Georgians and Victorians had such a penchant for taking the lids off those in Westminster Abbey. What they lost in mystery they made up for by opening them in the dead of night, so they could gaze by candlelight upon the skulls of Edward I (his tomb was opened in 1774) or Richard II (opened in 1871) or even Charles I (opened in 1813).Yes, there is always something intriguing about unopened ones, which is perhaps why the enlightened Georgians and Victorians had such a penchant for taking the lids off those in Westminster Abbey. What they lost in mystery they made up for by opening them in the dead of night, so they could gaze by candlelight upon the skulls of Edward I (his tomb was opened in 1774) or Richard II (opened in 1871) or even Charles I (opened in 1813).
Once King Arthur’s tomb in Glastonbury Abbey or Thomas Becket’s tomb in Canterbury Cathedral had been emptied by agents of the Reformation, or King Alfred’s by the developers, they ceased to be tourist attractions – though Becket’s bones are said to have been hidden elsewhere in the cathedral, so you never know. Who visits Dante’s empty tomb in Florence, after all, when his bones are actually in Ravenna?Once King Arthur’s tomb in Glastonbury Abbey or Thomas Becket’s tomb in Canterbury Cathedral had been emptied by agents of the Reformation, or King Alfred’s by the developers, they ceased to be tourist attractions – though Becket’s bones are said to have been hidden elsewhere in the cathedral, so you never know. Who visits Dante’s empty tomb in Florence, after all, when his bones are actually in Ravenna?
On the other hand, the resting place of Oliver Cromwell’s head remains so interesting that it is kept secret, though it is in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge. As for Columbus, he seems plausibly to occupy at least two tombs and possibly three, on both sides of the Atlantic.On the other hand, the resting place of Oliver Cromwell’s head remains so interesting that it is kept secret, though it is in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge. As for Columbus, he seems plausibly to occupy at least two tombs and possibly three, on both sides of the Atlantic.
The new Richard III Visitor Centre, at 4a St Martin’s – a peculiarly mundane address for a king – with its 3D printout of the skeleton, seems the very opposite of mysterious. But of course there remain unanswered questions: what kind of man was he, and did he really dispose of his nephews in the Tower of London? This riddle gets people even more worked up than the question of whether his bones should lie in Leicester or York, which sparked a court case.The new Richard III Visitor Centre, at 4a St Martin’s – a peculiarly mundane address for a king – with its 3D printout of the skeleton, seems the very opposite of mysterious. But of course there remain unanswered questions: what kind of man was he, and did he really dispose of his nephews in the Tower of London? This riddle gets people even more worked up than the question of whether his bones should lie in Leicester or York, which sparked a court case.
Perhaps, then, we should open a visitor’s centre around a truly mysterious tomb, the grave of Richard Plantagenet in the ruined church of St Mary’s in Eastwell, in Kent. Richard Plantagenet was a bricklayer who died at the age of 81 in the 1550s. He was said to have been Richard III’s illegitimate son, or possibly even the younger prince in the tower, Richard of York. A local councillor has already asked for DNA testing, so I fear even that puzzle is likely to be solved.Perhaps, then, we should open a visitor’s centre around a truly mysterious tomb, the grave of Richard Plantagenet in the ruined church of St Mary’s in Eastwell, in Kent. Richard Plantagenet was a bricklayer who died at the age of 81 in the 1550s. He was said to have been Richard III’s illegitimate son, or possibly even the younger prince in the tower, Richard of York. A local councillor has already asked for DNA testing, so I fear even that puzzle is likely to be solved.
So I cling to my story. It seems to encourage the chances of a proper mystery surviving the microscopes. So I cling to my story. It seems to encourage the chances of a proper mystery surviving the microscopes.