The Last Days of Richard III and the Fate of His DNA

by John Ashdown-Hill

  Edward IV’s own bed at this period (1480) comprised a mattress stuffed with feathers, which would have been supported on a wooden framework with a woven webbing of taut ropes. The royal bed had bolsters stuffed with feathers, upon which rested pillows of fustian stuffed with down. The bed was made up with sheets of Holland cloth. Other contemporary beds prepared for the Burgundian ambassadors at the Erber40 were supplied with counterpanes of red worsted, while the bed provided for the dowager Duchess of Burgundy herself rejoiced also in a pair of blankets.41 However, the design of the covers (tapettes) for the king’s own bed was far more regal and heraldic. These covers were made per pale of red and blue verders adorned with crowns and roses. Thus Edward IV in 1480 – and very probably also Richard III five years later – slept under a bedspread in the colours of the Yorkist royal livery, adorned with royal emblems.42

  A great deal of information is available about clothing owned by Edward IV in or about 1480, and this helps us to form an impression of how his younger brother may have been dressed five years later. Edward IV had possessed a great variety of items of attire – and the surviving list is probably far from exhaustive. His garments had included long gowns, demi-gowns, doublets, hose and cloaks. Richard III’s wardrobe must have been composed of a similar range of garments.43

  Specifically, Edward IV had possessed at least twenty-four shirts of Holland cloth.44 He also owned a long gown of blue cloth of gold upon satin, lined with green satin; another of black velvet lined with tawny damask; one of purple velvet lined with black satin; and two more of green velvet and of white velvet respectively, each upon velvet tissue cloth of gold and lined with black satin; another of velvet upon black cloth of gold, furred with ermine; one of crimson cloth of gold; and one of green damask. The king possessed a number of doublets, mostly of black satin, at least one of which was lined with Holland cloth, also another doublet of purple satin, and one of crimson velvet. He had a demi-gown of tawny velvet lined with black damask; another of green velvet lined with black damask; another of black velvet lined with purple satin; another of purple velvet lined with green sarcenet; and another of green velvet lined with black sarcenet. He had a number of tippets (hoods for cloaks) made of black velvet and an assortment of leather shoes and leather patens. Many of his shoes were of Spanish or Spanish-style leather (‘cordwain’),45 some being lined and others not. He also owned shoes and patens of black leather, black leather knee boots, and five pairs of boots of tan (‘tawny’) Spanish leather, together with a pair of long spurs, parcel-gilt. Edward IV also owned handkerchiefs and ostrich feathers, at least one cloak of black camlet, two pairs of green hose, and two pairs of black hose.46

  Richard III seems to have been fond of hunting, and we shall have more to say on this point in a subsequent chapter. He also possessed a library, and was therefore presumably interested in reading.47 Other distractions which may have been available to him included games of various kinds. Playing cards and dice were certainly in existence. John Howard, Duke of Norfolk, apparently possessed at least one chess set (possibly two). There is also evidence that tennis was being played in England at this period.48

  One of the things which Richard III seems to have done in about April 1485 was to have his portrait painted. The earliest representation of Richard surviving today (with the exception of manuscript illustrations) is a small panel portrait in the possession of the Society of Antiquaries of London, and a copy of this is reproduced here (figure 8). The Society of Antiquaries portrait dates from the first decade of the sixteenth century, but was presumably copied from an earlier version, painted during Richard’s lifetime. The portrait shows the king gazing to the viewer’s left, and wearing a black velvet hat with a jewelled brooch, a crimson doublet, recalling the doublet of crimson velvet owned by Edward IV, and a gown or demi-gown of cloth of gold which again recalls items from the wardrobe of his elder brother. Richard has a thin face with a sad look about it.49 His long hair is dark brown, like that of Edward IV.50 There is no indication in the painting that the sitter suffered from any kind of physical deformity, but the curvature of Richard’s spine was reported to produce only a slight variation in the height of his shoulders (see below). Such a small portrait could have been produced – and reproduced – quite quickly.51

  Richard’s sad expression in this portrait would certainly have been appropriate in April 1485, following his recent bereavements. However, there is another reason for assigning the painting of this portrait to about this period. The king’s right hand holds a ring, which he is in the process of either placing upon, or removing from, the fourth finger of his left hand. Although the wedding ring finger was probably not fixed at this period, his gesture may imply thoughts of marriage.52 Thus the original portrait may have been painted after the death of Queen Anne Neville, when new marriage plans were in prospect between 16 March and 22 August 1485. The painting was possibly intended to be sent to Portugal, with perhaps a second copy sent to Spain, to be shown to the infantas who were being wooed as prospective consorts. The comparatively small size of the portrait would appear to be consistent with this explanation, since it would have made the original easy to transport.

  It was certainly not unusual for portraits of prospective royal brides to be dispatched to their prospective husbands in this way and at about this period. There is less evidence for the sending of such portraits on the part of the proposed husbands. However, the Infanta Joana of Portugal was known to be a hard matrimonial nut to crack. She had already turned down several potential spouses, including Charles the Bold of Burgundy and the King of France. Richard may therefore have felt that a special effort was called for. There is also a possible parallel example in the somewhat similar, oval-topped panel portrait of Henry VII that was painted by Michael Sittow in 1505, and which depicts Henry wearing the collar of the Order of the Golden Fleece. A copy of this representation may have been intended for the widowed Joanna the Mad, Queen of Castile and dowager Duchess of Burgundy, whom Henry was then hoping to marry as his second wife. It is thus feasible that several copies of Richard’s portrait were produced: one for immediate dispatch to Portugal, another for use in Spain, with perhaps a third to be held in reserve in case both the Portuguese and Spanish negotiations foundered and it subsequently proved necessary to look further afield. It would then presumably have been from one of the reserve portraits retained in England that the extant example was reproduced, some twenty years later.53

  In addition to extraordinary activities such as sitting for a marriage portrait, during the period from March to August 1485 the king continued to occupy himself with the day-to-day business of government and running the royal household. A selection of the sort of business with which he occupied himself during these months includes:

  Wednesday 9 March 1484/85, Westminster: warrant to Henry Davy to deliver to John Goddeslande ‘foteman unto the lord Bastard two silk doublets, one silk jacket a gown, two shirts and a bonnet’.54

  Friday 11 March 1484/85, Westminster: ‘letter of passage’ for Friar John Forde of the Dominican (Black) friars to go to Rome with one servant and his luggage.55

  Tuesday 29 March 1485, London: ‘warrant to the maister of thordenance to delyver unto [William Combresale] … fyfty bowes a hundred Shef of Arowes oon Barelle of gonnepowder fyfty Speres armed and thre cartes of rennyng ordenance for the defense of Harwiche’.56

  Tuesday 12 April 1485, London: passport for Henry Delphaut (servant of Captain Salasar), together with his servants and horses, who are on their way to the (arch?)duke of Austria.57

  Wednesday 13 April 1485, London: licence to John Rede to attend the General Chapter of the Premonstratensian Order in France.58

  Friday 22 April 1485: Lord Maltravers commissioned to keep the Feast of St George at Windsor Castle in the king’s absence.59

  Sunday 24 April 1485, London: approval of the election of Dom William Senons, OSB as the new abbot of St Mary’s Abbey, York.60

  Friday 29 April 1485, Westminster: commission ‘to
take Carpenters & Sawyers … for the hasty spede of the kings werkes in the towre of London & Westminstre and also to take marke felle hewe and cary almoner tymber aswele okes Elmes as other tymbre needful for the said werkes’.61

  Saturday 7 May 1485, Westminster: reprimand to the bailiff of Ware (Herts.) for allowing able-bodied male inhabitants of the town to waste time in playing cards, bowls and tennis instead of practising archery, and for allowing them to poach the royal pheasants, partridges, rabbits and hares.62

  Friday 27 May 1485, Kenilworth: licence to Thomas Wright of Banbury to transport to Calais 200 sheep and 100 mares.63

  Monday 6 June 1485, Kenilworth: payment of £15 19s. 10d. for repairs carried out at Sudeley Castle; also payment of £115 18s. for twenty tuns and one hogshead of wine delivered to the Castle of Kenilworth.64

  There were also royal authorisations for the obtaining of hawks for hunting, which we shall consider in greater detail later (see below, chapter 6).

  Incidentally, of the game mentioned as being hunted by the inhabitants of Ware in 1485 (all of which will have been familiar to Richard III), partridges and hares were native species. It has been suggested by some authorities that the bronze pheasant (Phasianus colchicus) was also a native species,65 though others have argued that this large game bird was introduced to England by the Romans. It was unquestionably the Romans who brought the rabbit to these islands. Unfortunately, the English (or Grey) partridge (Perdix perdix) which Richard knew, and probably hunted and on occasions ate, is now by no means common. Those lucky enough to see a partridge in England nowadays will be much more likely to encounter the French (Red-legged) partridge (Alectoris rufa), first introduced to England only in the seventeenth century. Even the modern English pheasant is not quite the bird which Richard III will have known, as the possibly native bronze pheasant has been almost swamped by much more recent importations of the ring-necked pheasant (Phasianus torquatus) from China. While the latter species very closely resembles the traditional English bronze pheasant, it is easily distinguished from it by the white ring which encircles the neck of the cock bird, hence its name.

  4

  Tombs of Saints and Queens

  According to the rather muddled and incomplete account of the events of 1485 given by the Crowland Chronicle, it was somewhere around the octave of Easter (Sunday 3 April–Sunday 10 April) that rumours of an impending rebellion reached the ears of the king.1 The Crowland chronicler also reports that as early as the Feast of the Epiphany (6 January 1484/85) Richard had already received the news that an invasion on the part of his second cousin once removed, Henry ‘Tudor’, soi-disant ‘Earl of Richmond’, was likely to take place in 1485.2

  On his mother’s side, this Henry ‘Tudor’ (the future King Henry VII) was a descendant in a legitimised (but originally bastard) line from John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. On his father’s side he happened also to be a nephew of Henry VI – although his descent from Henry VI’s mother had brought him no English royal blood whatsoever. It has also been suggested that Henry ‘Tudor’’s father, Edmund, was not really the son of Owen Tudor. Edmund ‘Tudor’’s real father may well have been Edmund Beaufort, first (second) Duke of Somerset, another of the legitimised Beaufort descendants of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster.3 If so, this descent might possibly have reinforced Henry Tudor’s claim to the Crown of England, though it would undermine his right to the surname Tudor (a surname, which, in practice, he and his descendants rarely used).

  In point of fact, in putting forward his royal claim Henry never mentioned details of any of his real lines of descent. In 1484–85 his claim as advanced in France was founded upon the transparent lie that he was a younger son of the late Henry VI.4 Previously, Henry had tried another ploy. In 1483 he had sought unsuccessfully to advance a claim to the throne on the strength of a proposed future marriage with Elizabeth of York. Subsequently, he would claim the throne on the vaguely worded grounds of Lancastrian blood (with the details carefully left unspecified) coupled with the right of conquest. Interestingly, Henry VII was never to publicly proclaim his genuine but tenuous blood ties to the Plantagenet royal family. It was left to Richard III to attempt to explain those.

  Far from being cowed and defeatist at the news of the forthcoming invasion, Richard was reportedly delighted. He believed that the coming of Henry ‘Tudor’ (as modern writers generally call him) against him would finally settle this matter, and that thereafter he would be able to reign in peace.5

  It was doubtless in response to the latest intelligence regarding the threatened invasion (and the machinations of the King of France, which Richard certainly knew to lie behind it) that during the month of April a royal fleet was stationed in the Channel, under the command of Sir George Neville.6 Richard III had himself served as Admiral of England during the reign of his elder brother, and had enjoyed a long and close association with Sir John Howard (later Lord Howard, and ultimately Duke of Norfolk) who had held office under Richard as Admiral of the Northern Seas, and who, in the summer of 1483, had succeeded him as Admiral of England. One may therefore assert with some confidence that Richard possessed a clear notion of the importance of the navy to the defence of the realm. Indeed, previous writers have acknowledged that he took care to maintain and augment the navy left to him by Edward IV.7 Under its flagship, the carvel Edward, this fleet had been assiduously built up by the late king – a fact of which little account has hitherto been taken.8

  However, Richard was embarrassed by a lack of ready money – a problem exacerbated by the fact that in the summer of 1483 Sir Edward Woodville had made off with a substantial portion of the royal treasury. King Richard himself had condemned in Parliament the so-called ‘benevolences’, or forced gifts, which his elder brother and preceding sovereigns had used as a form of taxation. Now, finding himself in a similar quandary to many of his predecessors, he was more or less compelled to adopt a not dissimilar solution. Instead of ‘benevolences’, however, he now introduced a system of forced loans. The difference between Richard’s expediency and the system of ‘benevolences’ was that Richard III now issued receipts for the money he obtained from his subjects, accompanied by an undertaking to repay it. Given his subsequent defeat, it is impossible to know whether or not the money would ultimately have been repaid. It is nevertheless clear that Richard was trying, for no one had even pretended that the earlier ‘benevolences’ would ever be paid back!

  Although he had been at Windsor from 18–20 April, Richard III was in London on St George’s Day (23 April) 1485, and therefore did not attend the annual Garter Feast at St George’s Chapel in person. Instead, as we saw in the last chapter, ‘a commission under the privy seal, 22 April 1485, empowered lord Maltravers to keep the feast in the Sovereign’s absence’.9 This very late appointment of Maltravers (Richard III’s first cousin once removed on his mother’s side, and the son and heir of the Earl of Arundel) as the king’s deputy for the occasion suggests a rather hurried and last-minute change of plans. This may in some way have been connected with the execution of Sir Roger Clifford, for reasons unknown, on 2 May 1485.

  On Thursday 12 May (the Feast of the Ascension) the king rode out of Westminster to return to Windsor Castle. He was never to see London or Westminster again. There may perhaps have been a particular reason why Richard III chose to return to Windsor Castle at this time. The anniversary of the death of the last Lancastrian king, Henry VI, was fast approaching. Henry VI was already popularly regarded as a saint and martyr, and the feast days of martyred saints are normally celebrated on the anniversaries of their deaths.

  King Henry is usually said to have died, or been killed, on the night of 21 May 1471.10 This date is derived from John Warkworth’s account, which states that Henry ‘was putt to dethe the xxj day of Maij, on a tywesday night, betwyx xj and xij of the cloke’.11 This date has, however, been questioned. Betram Wolffe, in his biography of Henry VI, suggested that the death may actually have occurred early on the morning of Wednesday 22 May,12 and Vergil
’s account, while giving no specific date, assigns Henry’s demise to the period after Edward IV had pacified Kent and dealt with Fauconberg, which would suggest very late May or possibly even early June.13 Sir Clements Markham ‘made use of the Exchequer Issue Rolls (detailing expenditure during Henry’s final days in residence in the Tower), to demonstrate that the deposed king was still alive up to 24 May at least’,14 though other writers have suggested that this merely represents a convenient date at which to end the accounting period. But the Arrival of Edward IV gives the date of Henry’s demise as Thursday ‘the xxiij day of the monithe of May’ and claims he died from natural causes.15 There is also the poem of Dafydd Llwyd of Mathafarn, apparently written shortly after Bosworth and rejoicing at the death of Richard III, which likewise implies that Thursday 23 May was the day on which Henry VI died.16 Therefore, although most modern accounts continue to state baldly that Henry died on 21 May, it is possible that the real date was slightly later. However, apart from drawing attention to that fact that divergent accounts exist, we need not dwell upon this point here, other than to observe that even in 1485 there may possibly have been some doubt as to the precise date of Henry VI’s death. Nevertheless, it must have been well known that he had died towards the end of May, and some date in that vicinity – possibly 21 May – had probably already begun to be thought of as representing ‘the Feast of St Henry VI’.

  The saintly cult of Henry VI must have begun very soon after his demise, and certainly within a year or so of his death, for as early as 1473 ‘Richard Latoner was paid for his work in writing the testimonies of certain persons offering at the image of Henry VI in the Cathedral of York’.17 It may also have been at about the same time that the wild spinach plant, also known as ‘Mercury’, or ‘Poor Man’s Asparagus’ (Chenopodium bonus-henricus), acquired in England its now usual name of ‘Good King Henry’ – presumably in honour of the last Lancastrian monarch.18