The law on the exhumation of named individuals with living relatives sets out the decency and privacy with which the exhumation must be carried out. Exhumations of, and archaeological reports on, dead soldiers from the two world wars, for example, carry an important prohibition: archaeologists are not free to publish photographs of the remains unless surviving relatives give their permission. However, there is no law protecting the remains of named individuals dating from more than 100 years ago. The only case that gave any clues as to seemly conduct was the discovery of the remains of Anne Mowbray, Duchess of York and Norfolk, who died in 1481 aged eight. Her coffin had been discovered by workmen clearing the site of a church in east London in 1964 and an archaeologist began an investigation of the remains, but without obtaining any proper consent. After questions in the House of Lords, Mowbray’s relatives closed the investigation, but their action came too late to stop pictures of the remains being published in the newspapers. It was a lesson in what not to do, as I pointed out to the authorities.
The Reburial Document was ready. Drawn up by Dr David and Wendy Johnson, its purpose was to convince potential partners that the Looking for Richard project was serious and viable. Its eleven pages, together with the pitch document, set out the ethos behind the project, which would have two main aims:
• to search for the grave of Richard III, and, if found, honour him with a reburial and tomb;
• to attempt to bring to life the real man behind the myth.
I wanted my project to be a unique attempt to get to the truth. Furthermore, the search for an anointed King of England was incredibly sensitive, in Richard’s case particularly so. After the Battle of Bosworth, his naked body had been slung over a horse, taken into Leicester, and placed on public display. In the retelling of his story, I did not want Richard III subjected to public humiliation again.
The project would also honour Richard with a tomb, and the Reburial Document included the first sketches of the design. Two ceremonies were proposed: a solemn Vespers for the Dead at the reinterment, followed by a later Service of Celebration.
All this was jumping the gun. We still didn’t know the precise site of the Greyfriars Church, but there was one key fact in our favour. Research had yielded only seven other potential named burials inside the church, of which only one, Sir William Moton of Peckleton, could be said with any certainty to have been buried there. It seems the vow of poverty taken by the Greyfriars (followers of St Francis of Assisi) and a treasonous rebellion by some of the order in 1402 against Henry IV might have kept the burials inside the church to a minimum, and so reduced the likely number of graves.
I had obtained the TV rights to John Ashdown-Hill’s book, The Last Days of Richard III, which provided the research behind the project, to protect it from acquisitive producers. Now I put in a confidential call to Dr Phil Stone, chairman of the Richard III Society, who offered whatever help the society could provide. Over the coming months he would become my mentor and guide, his quiet determination adding a backbone of steel to the project’s endeavours. Dr Stone suggested that he take me to the office of the society’s patron, since he thought that Richard, Duke of Gloucester might be interested in a search to find the grave of his medieval namesake. At the meeting, it was confirmed that I would be the nominated point of contact for the duke for the project and keep his office informed of any developments.
The Reburial Document was given to the MoJ, Leicester City Council and Leicester Cathedral, who were all satisfied that the precautions set out in the document would protect Richard’s honour and dignity. At the MoJ, we discussed the Anne Mowbray case and how an exhumation would ensure that all decency be afforded King Richard upon discovery of his remains. The concerns of relatives (as with those of any other remains having known living relatives) would be taken into account in the drafting of the Exhumation Licence. However, the MoJ warned that it could not act in this by itself, and the protections and protocols I required for the remains should be inserted into my agreements with the local authorities.
In Leicester it had been agreed that the Looking for Richard project would receive LCC’s support and backing through the office of its CEO, and the council would work directly with me as the originator/client. However, due to the recession, it would not be able to provide any direct funding, but would act as the project’s main facilitator. This would allow me access to the council’s experts, including their museum services who would advise on all aspects of the dig, with particular reference to the care of ancient artefacts, and the highways department who would reinstate the car parks, and also offer introductions to local businesses and funding bodies. LCC also confirmed that it would give me permission to dig in its car park on the understanding that, if found, King Richard III would be reburied in the nearest consecrated ground, Leicester Cathedral.
To have any hope of getting the project under way, I now needed funding, and a recognized archaeological team willing to do the dig, as well as the costing. Finding the right team would be crucial. The UK archaeological teams I had contacted had been sceptical about the search, and didn’t know the terrain. However, LCC had recommended a local archaeologist with whom it had worked: talented and sensitive, Richard Buckley, co-director of ULAS, might be just what the project needed, and his colleague, Harriet Jacklyn, was an equally experienced osteologist. I recognized the ULAS name immediately as the team that had undertaken the Grey Friars Street dig but hadn’t responded to Ashdown-Hill’s previous proposal to search for Richard III’s grave. They were a leading archaeological unit with a considerable reputation and wouldn’t want to be seen setting off on any wild-goose chase so it would be a difficult sell. In January 2011 I telephoned Richard Buckley, who was intrigued by the project, but not convinced. He knew where the sizeable Greyfriars precinct was and the potential the car parks offered, but said he would have to do further research and only if this came up with anything would he be interested in taking matters further. I duly sent him the pitch and Reburial Document. In March 2011 I met Sarah Levitt, Head of Arts and Museum Services and lead on the project for LCC. She understood the sensitivities surrounding the search for the remains of a named individual and would be happy to include protections within our agreement. An agreement, however, was a long way off. Once we had archaeologists on board (she also recommended Buckley) she would help with introductions to local funding bodies.
At an on-site meeting at the Social Services car park I spent time with Councillor Michael Johnson whose enthusiasm for the project had opened the door to LCC. Walking with me towards the northern end of the car park, he asked where I believed the church might be. As I told him about the GPR survey I planned to commission to attempt to reveal its walls beneath the tarmac, we walked on to the same spot where I had my intuitive feeling, and I experienced the same powerful reaction once again.
Much rested on my next meeting, at ULAS, where Richard Buckley had agreed to meet me. If I could get him on board, the project would have a chance of securing the local funding it desperately needed. Buckley quickly put me at my ease; he had done his research and wanted to show me something. In one of their finds rooms, on a wooden table stretching almost the full length of the room, was a series of maps. Buckley started at one end with a map from 1741 by Thomas Roberts, and pointed to the ‘Gray Fryers’ area marked on it: it looked like an orchard, and was situated directly opposite St Martin’s Church (Leicester Cathedral), right where the car parks are now.
On the south side of the ‘Gray Fryers’ was the outline of a building that Buckley said looked like a gatehouse, and could be a marker for the remnants of Herrick’s mansion house. As I looked, I could see a formal garden to the north with four pathways leading to a central area. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Could this central area be where Herrick’s stone pillar had stood? I put forward my theory. My reasoning was simple enough: if you have the grave of a king in your garden and erect a ‘handsome stone pillar’ to mark it, wouldn’t you lay out your paths to lead towards it?
It seemed logical to me. However, Buckley was focused on working through the ages, showing me on each map how the land use had changed over time. After the Dissolution, the ‘Gray Fryers’ land was gardens, but was finally covered with tarmac to become car parks in the 1930s–40s. It was archaeologically virgin ground, only built on at its outer edges and never investigated.
The three car parks of the Greyfriars area of Leicester where the Ground Penetrating Radar Survey was undertaken on 28 August 2011. The survey was commissioned by Philippa Langley and funded by the Richard III Society, founding members of the Looking for Richard project, members of the Scottish Branch and private investors.
But it was clear Buckley wasn’t convinced. ‘Archaeology is not about going in search of a famous person, it’s not what we do,’ he said. For one thing, there was the story of Richard’s bones being thrown into the River Soar. As I explained that this had been refuted by John Ashdown-Hill’s researches, I knew I was losing him: the River Soar tale was just too powerful. What about the Greyfriars Church, might that be of interest? I brought out my copy of the medieval map showing the Greyfriars Church opposite what was now the cathedral, and told him why I thought this would be at the northern end of the Social Services car park.
Buckley dismissed the map, asserting that medieval maps are notoriously vague, but he nonetheless sat up. Finding the Greyfriars Church would be of interest to him, because he could learn so much about medieval Leicester and the layout of these friary churches from it. As I pushed for my preferred site, using Ashdown-Hill’s research into mendicant priories’ locations beside major roads, Buckley agreed it was a possibility. After discussing the Christopher Wren report on Herrick’s garden and its marker column, then the open car park spaces, ripe for archaeological investigation, and the GPR survey, Buckley declared he would be happy to look for the Greyfriars Church. So it was settled that, while he searched for the church, I would search for the grave of a king. Unlike Buckley, I had no reputation to lose. I asked how he rated our chances of success. He said, ‘Fifty–fifty at best for the church, and nine to one against finding the grave.’ He was a glass half empty kind of guy, while I was the glass half full kind of girl. He asked what I thought the chances were: I replied, ‘Nine to one on for finding them both.’ He laughed, asking what had driven me to this search. I told him about my screenwriting, and hopes of seeing Richard’s real story brought to life. I didn’t tell him about my intuitive feeling. But it didn’t matter, because Richard Buckley was on board and beaming and I wanted to hug him. The Looking for Richard project had taken a giant leap forward.
Thomas Roberts’s map of 1741 with modern overlay of trenches. A formal garden is visible to the east of the three trenches, thought to be the garden of Alderman Robert Herrick.
However, there was still the urgent need to find funding. Buckley mentioned Leicester University and its not insubstantial research budgets. ULAS, though an independent body hiring its offices from the university, worked closely with it. Buckley called Richard Taylor, the university’s Deputy Registrar and Director of Corporate Affairs, who thought the project had merit, and understood that the ULAS academic research would be in quest of the church. He asked what might be required of the university. Hesitant to bring in such a powerful player on the funding side, I asked for their specialists and expertise to be made available to the project free of charge. Taylor quickly confirmed that I had only to let him know what I needed, so I immediately mentioned the DNA unit and Professor Mark Lansdale, Head of the Psychology Department. Taylor agreed and said that if I needed extra funding once the dig was under way, the university would help. I asked how much. ‘If you find the Greyfriars Church, the wallet will open,’ he replied.
In March 2011, on Buckley’s advice, I commissioned ULAS to undertake the Archaeological Desk-Based Assessment (DBA). This is the preliminary research document drawn up to determine the archaeological viability of a site. It would be based on historical research, including detailed map regression, and analysis of any potential ground disturbance, together with the location of gas mains and electric and fibre-optic cables. The DBA would provide me, as the client, with the necessary professional green light to enable the dig to go ahead. I gave ULAS what information I had on the Leicester Greyfriars site. The cost of the DBA was £1,140, so I called Phil Stone because the Richard III Society had a bursary fund for original research to which I could apply. The joint secretaries, Sue and David Wells, helped prepare the request document, which Phil Stone gave to the Executive Committee who passed it immediately.
In April 2011, with the DBA completed, I asked ULAS where it intended to dig the first trenches. Richard Buckley explained that in order to pick up any trace of the east–west church walls beneath the surface, two overlapping thirty-metre trenches would run north–south which he hoped would bisect the walls. The trenches would also have to be positioned to maximize the remaining parking on site to help with costs. I pressed again for the northern end of the car park and Buckley confirmed that Trench One would cover the exact area I wanted; it ran right over the letter ‘R’.
The greatest expense of the dig was going to be the reinstatement work, turning the site back into a car park. I also had to find, and fund, interim parking for the Social Services for the duration of the dig, which we agreed would last for two weeks. Richard Buckley assured me it would be possible to dig three trial trenches in that time. I proposed the dig should take place over the Easter holiday period, April–May 2012, as this would give me time to get the funding, and broadcaster, on board. It would also reduce the cost of the off-site car parking. But in the meantime I had to raise an estimated £35,000.
Sarah Levitt told me that I would need permission from the team at the Greyfriars Social Services for the dig and the disruption it would cause. Their consent was vital; Levitt would not be able to overrule them if they refused. I was tense for my meeting with Mick Bowers, Head of Greyfriars Property Services. Bowers understood the dig would cause major headaches, but he’d spoken to his team, who were willing to take on the extra work-load involved because, they said, the search for Richard was a worthy one. Bowers would be in charge of matters at their end. It was a huge relief, and I thanked him. ‘Not a problem,’ he said, and smiled. I later discovered his wife was a Ricardian.
The next priority was to finalize the TV programme. The first-ever search for the grave of an anointed King of England was a good story, so someone would bite. It just so happened I had a certain someone in mind.
I had been a big fan of the documentary filmmaker Julian Ware for many years. He insisted on meticulous research, a sensitive approach and top production values. He was joint creative director of the award-winning Darlow Smithson Productions (DSP), which had just made WW1: Finding the Lost Battalions (July 2010), about amateur historian Lambis Englezos’s search for the lost graves of the 1916 Battle of Fromelles in France. Ware confirmed his interest in the Looking for Richard project, to be headed up by DSP’s Acting Head of Development, Simon Young, an archaeologist who had produced Finding the Lost Battalions.
A few weeks later, however, the project’s future was up in the air again. Sheila Lock (CEO of LCC) was ill, Chris Wardle, the City Archaeologist, was not convinced of its viability, and to cap it all Leicester was about to vote for its first elected mayor, the person who would then run LCC and therefore be able to kill the project stone dead.
Or not. In May 2011 Sir Peter Soulsby was elected Leicester’s mayor. He valued history and heritage (it was in his manifesto), so it was with some relief that a few weeks later Sarah Levitt confirmed he’d given the Looking for Richard project the green light. We were back on.
At the cathedral, the dean, the Very Reverend Vivienne Faull, welcomed the Reburial Document and expressed the cathedral’s readiness to accept the remains of King Richard into its care, should he be found. Taking me to the sanctuary, the dean proposed that the tomb should be close to its northern wall. As I looked at the great east window dedicated to the fall
en in battle, I felt her suggested place would be a fitting tribute and final resting place for England’s last warrior king.
But I still had to raise the necessary funds. Sarah Levitt put me in touch with Martin Peters, Managing Director of Leicestershire Promotions Ltd (LPL), responsible for marketing the county and city. With DSP on board, and a TV special in the offing with Channel 4, Peters understood the venture’s potential, and so agreed to fund the Looking for Richard project.
By early August 2011, with the £35,000 I needed, I had agreed terms with LCC as the landowner and ULAS as the contractor. As the client, my agreements repeated the Reburial Document’s ethos for the project: if we discovered Richard III’s remains, the science and analysis would be completed at the earliest opportunity. The two partners were aware that I was searching for a named individual with living relatives, and even though he had been dead for over 500 years, I wanted him granted the same decency and privacy as is laid down by the law governing exhumations of those who died less than a hundred years ago.
The agreement also made it clear that as named custodian of the remains after identification, I would take Richard to a Catholic place of sanctity and rest where he would be prepared for his reburial in the (Anglican) cathedral. It was important that this should be in a spiritual environment and the king’s faith taken into consideration if he were finally to be laid to rest.
The King's Grave: The Discovery of Richard III's Lost Burial Place and the Clues It Holds Page 3