Tudor Propaganda

TRAGEDY: Defined - In classical and Renaissance drama, a play in which the protagonist, usually a man of importance and outstanding personal qualities, falls to disaster through the combination of a personal failing and circumstances with which he cannot deal.

TIME LINE

The action in this play takes place between April 1483 and August 1485. Shakespeare wrote his play a little over one hundred years later. Give or take a decade, this would be equivalent to one of you writing a play set in Victorian England in 1888 - the year Jack the Ripper terrorized the inhabitants of East London.

The Tragedy of King Richard III is but one of several "history plays" written by Shakespeare for audiences eager to relive the past and by doing so, understand themselves, the age in which they lived and indirectly, offer some guidelines for a future that was as terrifying as it was uncertain. Elizabeth I was nearing the end of her reign, the succession was unresolved and the political arena beset with religious wrangles that threatened to destroy the very fabric of order. So, for the average Elizabethan, Shakespeare's plays offered entertainment at its very best. A chance to look back to another age in both wonder and delight. To escape - if just for a few hours - from the here and now and watch as the actors re-played another time; a heroic age of chivalry that would eventually be called "The Middle Ages". That that ideal - dare I say - romantic age never really existed beyond the realm of imagining does not, for one moment, preclude it from seeming to be so in the hearts and minds of those who desperately wanted it, and needed it.

But Shakespeare was doing more than just providing entertainment. Richard III is a morality play in the best tradition of the age. An allegorical play in which the characters and the events are used to symbolize a deeper moral or spiritual meaning. In a very real sense Shakespeare was sending the 'murderous Machiavel to school.' The end cannot - indeed must not - justify the means.

In structuring the play Shakespeare combined all the elements necessary to keep an audience of upwards of 3,000 individuals - notorious for being unruly, noisy, easy distracted - totally enthralled. Violence, lust, incest, greed, humour, pathos, irony and best of all cold-blooded dynastic murder. The play was an instant success, culminating, as it must in the triumphant of good over evil incarnate. The charming, murderous, amoral king, haunted at the end by his own misdeeds is brought to earthly justice by God's divine intervention and the House of Tudor ascends the throne of England in triumphant.

Shakespeare's creation of the murderous, black-hearted creature 'ill-formed, sent before my time into a breathing world, scarce half made up', is as much dramatic license on his part as it was an interruption of the facts then known and made available to him.

FACT vs FICTION

History is not, and never can be, static. As an actor and a playwright, Shakespeare was chiefly concerned with producing a play that would entertain, make money and keep his fellow Thespians employed. All productions were subjected to stringent censorship by both Church and State. In order to appease a Tudor monarch in a Tudor age, historical accuracy leapt into the backseat and went along for the ride.

To give an example of how history can be altered to suit the moment, let us quickly turn to recent events, a moment in history when truth finally emerges after more than half a century of deceit and falsehoods. The tragic end of the British luxury liner - Titanic. At the inquest, Mr. Ishmay, a representative of the White Star Line and a survivor of the disaster, swore under oath that the ship sank intact. This, despite other eyewitnesses (mostly women) who saw her break in half before slipping beneath the waves. The reason behind Mr. Ishmay's false testimony is quite simple. Titanic had a sister ship - the Olympic. We know from careful scientific study that the Titanic could not have withstood the horrific forces applied to her superstructure. She was not badly built, as Mr. Ishmay feared yet it was that fear of diminished confidence in White Star, which prompted him to lie.

Any of you who have seen Olivier Stone's film JFK know that the Warren Report into the assassination of the US President contains serious errors and omissions. Much of the truth of what happened on that fateful day in 1963 is hidden away and will remain so for another twenty-five years or more. That too is history, only partly revealed, waiting for another time, another generation.

A recently revealed fact. Elizabeth II's grandfather - George V - was quietly euthanasied by his personal physician using a lethal injection of morphine and cocaine. Reason? Obviously the king was in severe pain but the primary motivating force behind the deed was the desire to have the news appear in the morning papers, including The Times, rather than the less prestigious evening papers.

HISTORICAL ERRORS

1) 'Simple, plain Clarence…' There was nothing plain or simple about George, Duke of Clarence. Convicted of treason in a court of law, he was sentenced to death. Even a private execution would mean more negative PR for the House of York. What would you do if you were King and had a treasonous brother on your hands?

2) Hiring thugs to murder blue bloods? Unless it was on the battlefield, the nobility generally made a sport of killing each other off. For commoners to murder a royal duke, especially for money, was tantamount to inciting anarchy as well as creating a rather nasty precedence and Richard of Gloucester was most certainly not that stupid! A theory regarding how Clarence was gotten rid of is suggested in On the Trail of King Richard III.

3) '… humour wooed … humour won?' Anne Neville was the daughter of a traitor (Warwick) and married to (as at least betrothed) to another (Edouard of Lancaster, Prince of Wales). Politically speaking she was on thin ice. Her marriage to Richard was not only wise, but expedient. He inherited her lands; she inherited his title and the security it offered her. As the song goes ... 'What's love got to do … got to do with it?'

4) Clarence was married to Anne's sister, Isobel. Sharing the Warwick/Beauchamp estates after the Battle of Barnet brought Richard and George into direct conflict. No love lost between those two brothers!

5) Richard and Anne had a son - Edward of Middleham - born December 1473; died April 1484. If you are looking for a possible motive beyond simply possessing the crown, try a clean succession. The Bard must have missed that little tidbit of info while doing his research. Shame!

6) There might well have been three 'Princes in the Tower' - Edward and Richard had a brother, George (naturally!), Duke of Bedford. Unfortunately poor little Georgie died in 1479, age two.

7) Margaret of Anjou most certainly did not rampage around the Court. After her capture (Tewkesbury) she remained under house arrest, first at Windsor then Wallingford before she was finally ransomed by Louis of France in 1476. She died in abject poverty.

8) Tudor married Elizabeth of York because he needed her. Barely a drop of English blood flowed in his veins. It took him five months to get around to it. Two more years were to lapse before she was officially crowned Queen. By then, of course, she had produced a heir (Arthur) so it was the least Henry could do. This was a match made in the political arena. Did Liz have a choice? Ah … no.

SHAKESPEARE'S SOURCES

Mancini was an Italian monk who arrived in England in 1482 as part of the French ambassador's party. He was later to write a book called 'The Occupation of the Throne of England by Richard III' - a racy title - for the Archbishop of Vienne who had actually commissioned Mancini to report to him on English affairs. In a sense Mancini was a spy. The book he wrote wasn't found until 1934! Mancini's account of events must be taken with a grain of salt because, first of all, he didn't speak English so there is an immediate translation problem and a reliance on secondhand information from those who could.

Now, Doctor John Argentine was physician to young Edward V until Richard fired him. He could speak Italian but he was also hostile to Richard, which isn't surprising. It's not beyond the realm of possibility that Argentine and Mancini met. Mancini's book doesn't describe Richard at all so he probably never laid eyes on the man which might have made a difference since Richard was supposedly very charming - when he wanted to be that is.

Mancini seemed to be wholly ignorant of geography and muddled his dates a bit - a common trait of historians of the day. But, the account was at least impartial from his perspective. He was asked to report and he did just that as objectively as he could. He left England just after Richard's coronation when it is generally believed that the two Princes were still alive but imprisoned in the Tower.

The Croyland Chronicle is another source of information but, here again, care must be taken when interpreting the facts. The Abbey of Croyland in Lincolnshire had been involved for some time in setting down the history of England. The First Chronicle dates from 1144-1469 and, the Second from 1459-1486. It's not even clear who wrote the Second Chronicle. However, although the author is not actually named, his profession and activities are, leading some historians to suppose John Russell, Bishop of Lincoln from 1480-1494, doctor of canon law and a royal councillor and keeper of the privy seal to Edward IV from 1474-1483 as the likely author. Russell was also Chancellor of England during the majority of Richard's reign.

Bishop Russell was certainly well placed to know what was going on but the Second Croyland Chronicle was written in 1486, during the reign of Henry VII, and is obviously biased against Richard. Despite the trust Richard placed in him, Russell didn't like him very much it seems. One can't help but wonder why.

John Rous was another author. He died in 1491 but was born way back in 1411 so he would have been a very old man during the critical years from 1483 to 1485. He was a chantry priest and antiquarian and was most certainly not an eyewitness to any of the events. He dealt mostly in gossip and was mainly a chronicler of the Beauchamp and Neville families. He was totally dedicated to the earls of Warwick so, again we have to be careful. The Richard that Rous mentioned in his 'York Roll' - an illustrated history of the two families, dedicated to Anne Neville when she was Duchess of Gloucester - describes him as a 'mighty prince and especial good lord ... a most virtuous prince'. After Bosworth, Rous scrambled to retrieve the copy he had presented to Anne but failed. He did however revise his own Latin copy, scratched out his earlier words and replaced them with the 'unhappy spouse' - of Anne Neville instead, suggesting that the picture was of Anne's first husband Edouard rather than Richard.

During Henry VII's reign he wrote a history of England in which he portrayed Richard as a deformed monster and tyrant. It's Rous we can thank for all the nonsense about Richard's crookback, withered arm, being born with teeth. He goes so far as to suggest that Richard was the Antichrist. Rous, ever loyal to the Warwick family, probably hated Richard because he believed that Anne was murdered by her husband so he could marry his niece, Elizabeth of York.

Next we've got Polydore Vergil, an Italian cleric who didn't arrive in England until around 1501. He was a well known Renaissance scholar, a friend of Erasmus and Thomas More. It was probably More who introduced him to King Henry VII. The King commissioned Vergil to write a history of England. It was huge and wasn't published until Henry VIII's reign. Perhaps because he wasn't an Englishman, his account was fairly balanced. He was given full access to the official records, and even talked with individuals who lived during Richard's reign. How many actually told the whole truth is anyone's guess, but it's highly unlikely that Richard would have received any accolades from the individuals Vergil interviewed. It's not clear whether or not Vergil saw the Croyland Chronicle since it had gone underground by his time but, here again, the two accounts correspond in many respects, as does Mancini's history.

Sir Thomas More is quite another matter. Our 'Man For All Seasons' wrote a biography of Richard III between 1514-1518, probably with some help from Vergil who perhaps provided More with information while he was going through the official records, many of which were destroyed afterwards, by the way. More, despite all his fame as a man of integrity, well educated, above reproach and so on, was a Tudor through and through and therefore, on that basis alone his work must be viewed with caution. He had a tendency to mix history and literature, manufacturing speeches for his characters. All and all, not a very scientific approach. This dramatic license on the part of an otherwise down-to-earth and practical individual seems at odds and undoubtedly has upset numerous serious scholars.

Vergil and More were true men of the Renaissance age. Their works were biased in the belief that evil must not and cannot triumph; that God would extract vengeance against tyranny, impiety and wickedness. In short, their aim was to produce history with strong moral overtones and, to put the icing on the cake, More especially borrowed from Rous and created a Richard III whose physical deformity symbolized his moral depravity. Bosworth Field became the just end to such a monster; cast down by God through the instrument of His wrath, Henry Tudor.

More didn't finish his biography perhaps because while writing about Richard III and the tyranny of his reign, More began to notice that his own king, Henry VIII, was not exactly sweetness and light either. More resigned his chancellorship because he could not in good conscience condone Henry's split with the Church of Rome. In 1535 he was beheaded for his defiance.

RESPONSIBILITY

Shakespeare went on to embellished the tale all out of proportion and we end up with a drama long on morality and short on historical accuracy. In retrospect it's not Shakespeare's fault but it is true that the image of King Richard as a deformed monster did become the accepted classroom text for over 400 years. Thanks to both professional and amateur historians worldwide, the truth about this man is now beginning to see the light of reason and common sense.

It was as true in Shakespeare's day as it is now. Those individuals who set out to entertain us, whether it be in a theatre, at the movies or on television have a moral responsibility to be as accurate as possible. When it becomes more important to entertain than to ensure accuracy, when truth is suppressed to allow a lie to thrive, especially a lie fostered by an individual for his own gain, then it is up to the audience to ask the hard questions. To believe without hesitation, without reasoning, to fail to question what is being presented to you, especially in the guise of entertainment, is criminal to the extreme.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE OF KING RICHARD III

Was King Richard physically deformed? In a word - no. At the Battle of Bosworth, Richard was able to get close enough to Henry Tudor to kill his standard bearer William Brandon and unseat the giant Sir John Cheyney. Those of you who have any knowledge of medieval warfare would know and understand the degree of strength and agility required to go into battle on horseback, wielding a sword or a mace.

RICHARD GLOUCESTER - THE FORMATIVE YEARS - Enter the Realm of Historical Fact

The Wars of the Roses, in the midst of which Richard was born, involved two competing royal Houses - York and Lancaster. The prize was the throne of England and absolute power. The King - Henry VI - was mentally ill, his wife, Margaret of Anjou was a rapacious woman whose ruling passion was her young son Edouard who was one year younger than Richard. A power struggle between the forces of the Duke of York and the Royalists was inevitable. When Richard's father reached for the golden prize it was too late. At the Battle of Wakefield (December 1460), Richard lost his father, an uncle and his brother Edmund. Queen Margaret ordered their heads struck off and displayed atop Micklegate Bar in York.

The Story unfolds further as various characters leap from the pages of history to succeed or fail on the whim of chance. Richard's exile in Burgundy, his brother Edward's successful bid for the throne when Queen Margaret overplayed her hand and lost the support of the people; the bloody Battle of Towton where 28,000 men perished, crippling the power base of the House of Lancaster. The coronation of a new king - Edward IV - June 1461. From penniless exile Richard now stood third in line of succession to the English throne. He was not yet nine years of age.

King Edward was a popular monarch who readily won the hearts of his subjects. Young Richard basked in the reflected glory of his brother's reign and adored him as he adored his mentor and namesake Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick; known as the Kingmaker. Warwick however was not content just to make a king, he was determined to rule him as well and this Edward refused to allow.

Hostilities increased when Edward secretly married Elizabeth Wydville, a commoner and widow five years older than her new husband. A known Lancastrian, she had been a maid of honour to Queen Margaret. The court was appalled. Greedy, ambitious and arrogant, Elizabeth also had a large family all of whom King Edward would be expected to provide for as befitting the dignity of the queen's relatives. The elevation of the Wydville clan to positions of rank well beyond their humble origins caused considerable friction at court, ultimately leading to pro/anti-Wydville factions.

For nearly four years Richard escaped the wrangles of court life high in the moorlands at Middleham in Yorkshire. Under the watchful eye of the Earl of Warwick, Richard learned martial arts and courtly manners as well as receiving a conventional education. They were to be the happiest years of his life.

By February 1469 however, just sixteen years of age, Richard (now entitled Duke of Gloucester) presided at a commission in Salisbury set up to try two alleged traitors - Thomas Hungerford and Henry Courtenay - both of whom were subsequently found guilty and executed. It seems apparent that King Edward was determined to keep his youngest brother at his side and to involve him more and more in the administration of raw power. Trouble was brewing and treason rode the winds.

Sickened by the power and influence of the Wydvilles and by Edward's adulterous and excessive lifestyle, Warwick was bent on overthrowing the king he had created and placing on the throne instead his son-in-law George, Duke of Clarence, Richard's only other surviving brother. At the battle of Edgecote in June 1469, Warwick's forces captured and executed Elizabeth Wydville's father and brother John. King Edward was captured a few days later and taken first to Warwick Castle then to Middleham. Richard's whereabouts at this time are unknown.

Unable to govern with Edward still alive and yet unwilling to see to his death, Warwick had no option but to release the young King after a few weeks captivity. Compelled by the Queen to avenge the death of her father and brother, Warwick and Clarence were branded traitors. By this time Richard was old enough to bring an army of his own to bear but not quick enough and Warwick and Clarence were able to escape to France.

In desperation Warwick negotiated an arrangement with Margaret of Anjou. In exchange for the return of all his properties, Warwick promised to support the Lancastrian cause, restore Henry VI to the throne of England and defeat Edward with a combined army of Lancastrian, Neville and French forces. As a token of his faith, he offered his younger daughter Anne in marriage to the Queen's son Edouard. George Clarence's dream of a crown vanished and worse, he realised that there would be no place in a Lancastrian realm for a son of York.

Warwick succeeded beyond his wildest dreams despite the fact that Edward, Richard, the Queen's brother Anthony (Earl Rivers) and William, Lord Hastings were able to take ship for the LowLands. For the second time, Richard was to know the bitterness of defeat and exile. He was not quite eighteen.

On the 2nd of November, 1470 Elizabeth Wydville gave birth to a son within the sanctuary of Westminster Abbey. With the knowledge of a healthy male heir after a succession of daughters, Edward was inspired to reclaim his throne and put an end to the House of Lancaster forever. With help from Charles, Duke of Burgundy, Edward was able to sail with a fleet of fourteen ships and a small army. Caught off guard Warwick was at Coventry when news of Edward's triumphant arrival in London reached him. Disillusioned by Warwick, George Clarence defected and the three brothers were reunited.

At the Battle of Barnet the forces of the Earl of Warwick were defeated. Warwick and his brother Montague were slain, their bodies publicly displayed at St. Paul's. French forces landed at Weymouth and although Margaret of Anjou was at first disheartened to hear the news of Warwick's death, she was determined to raise a new army in Wales and Lancashire. Heavy rains however hampered her journey north and by the time she reached Tewkesbury, her army was too exhausted to continue.

The battle that followed was nasty and decisive. Richard's forces played a major role in the ultimate defeat of the enemy, many of whom died on the 'Bloody Meadows'. Young Edouard was slain on the field although it has been suggested by many, including Shakespeare, that he was captured then murdered by Edward, aided by his two brothers. What is known is that those Lancastrians who sought sanctuary within Tewkesbury Abbey were dragged out, given a hasty trial then executed in the marketplace. A few days later Margaret of Anjou was captured and handed over to Edward who displayed her like a prize of war during his triumphal procession through the streets of London.

With the son dead, it was the father's turn. On the morning of the 22nd of May, 1471 Henry VI was found dead in the Wakefield Tower. Although the official cause of death was reported as 'pure displeasure and melancholy', the chronicler John Warkworth wrote the following:

'And the same night that King Edward came to London, King Henry, being inward in prison in the Tower of London, was put to death, the 21st of May, on a Tuesday night, between eleven and twelve of the clock, being then at the Tower the Duke of Gloucester, brother to King Edward, and many others; and on the morrow he was chested and brought to Paul's [St. Paul's] , and his face was open that every man might see him; and in his lying he bled on the pavement there; and afterward at the Black Friars was brought, and there he bled new and fresh; and from thence he was carried to Chertsey Abbey in a boat, and buried there in our Lady Chapel.'

Fair to say that late in the evening of May 21st, 1471 not yet nineteen years old, Richard Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester became a major force in his own right. He had learned some powerful lessons on the road to adulthood, many from individuals whose ruthlessness was as uncompromising as it was heartless. A product of his age, we can tut-tut all we want, but unless we are prepared to put ourselves in his shoes and see the world as he saw it, none of us can pass judgement.

Richard Gloucester lived in a violent age, rent with civil war, treachery and sudden death. Twice he was exiled, declared a traitor and stripped of wealth and power. His father, brother and an uncle were brutally slain, their bodies defiled. He had seen Edward betrayed by his own brother George and by Warwick, a man Richard had looked up to and admired almost as a father. In the final frame Richard walked from the Tower of London with the blood of a dead king on his hands as cold and ruthless as all the rest. Political Realism expressed in its most lethal form.

As I have said, the Tragedy of King Richard III is first and foremost a morality play. For the Elizabethan audience, it was easy to recognise good from bad. The formula hasn't changed that much. Villains, not so many years ago, always wore black hats and Simon LaGree oiled his way about the stage dressed in a black suit, massaging his handlebar moustache as he leered suggestively at poor sweet Nell. The audience was encouraged to hiss and boo - and they did.

Shakespeare's Richard is not so easy pigeonholed. If, as the Elizabethans believed, evil must manifest itself externally - humpback, withered arm, limp and all - they should have been prepared to boo and hiss in the best tradition. But somehow the unmitigated gull of the man, his charm, his wit - not to mention his success with the Lady Anne - seduces the audience. They are quite simply mesmerised by him. Even his soliloquies fail to put us off as we watched in total fascination as he masterminds the destruction of others. An actor busy at work acting inside a play, changing shape for advantage, using deception and dissimulation to achieve his ultimate goal - the Crown and ultimate power.

Although I have not actually heard the word applied to the character of Richard, I can't help but feel that, in watching the play, we are seeing one of the earliest antiheroes at work. A man you love to hate and (secretly) hate but love. Perhaps that is essentially why the story has such universal appeal. And just when we, the audience, are beginning to think that the guy isn't all that bad after all, the killing begins just as he said it would at the end of Henry VI, Part 3. Suddenly we are confronted with a less than charming character. The apex - the dénouement or turning point - of the play occurs precisely when we can't stand it any longer. Richard ascends the throne and it's downhill from there.

Ay, Edward will use women honorably.
Would he were wasted, marrow, bones, and all,
That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring
To cross me from the golden time I look for!

And yet, between my soul's desire and me -
The lustful Edward's title buried -
Is Clarence, Henry, and his young Edward,
And all the unlook'd for issue of their bodies,
To take their rooms ere I can place myself.

A cold premeditation for my purpose!
Why, then I do but dream on sovereigny;
Like one that stands upon a promontory
And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,

Wishing his foot were equal with his eye;
And chides the sea that sunders him from thence,
Saying he'll lade it dry to have his way -

So do I wish the crown, being so far off;
And so I chide the means that keeps me from it;
And so I say I'll cut the causes off,
Flattering me with impossibilities.

Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard,
What other pleasure can the world afford?
I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap,
And deck my body in gay ornaments,
And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks.
O miserable thought! And more unlikely
Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns.

Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb;
And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe
To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub;
To make an envious mountain on my back,
Where sits deformity to mock my body;
To shape my legs of an unequal size;
To disproportion me in every part,
Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp
That carries no impression like the dam.
And am I, then, a man to be loved?
O monstruous fault to harbour such a thought!
Then, since this earth affords no joy to me
But to command, to check, to o'erbear such
As are of better person than myself,
I'll make my heaven to dream upon a crown,
And whiles I live t'account this world but hell,
Until my misshap'd trunk that bears this head
Be round impaled with a glorious crown.
And yet I know not how to get the crown,
For many lives stand between me and home
And I - like one lost in a thorny wood
That rents the thorns and is rent with the thorns,
Seeking a way and straying from the way;
Not knowing how to find the open air,
But toiling desperately to find it out -
Torment myself to catch the English crown;
And from that torment I will free myself
Or hew my way out with a bloody axe.

Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile,
And cry 'Content' to that which grieves my heart,
And wet my cheeks with artificial tears,
And frame my face to all occasions.
I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall,
I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk;
I'll play the orator as well as Nestor,
Deceive more slily than Ulysses could,
And, like a Sinon, take another Troy.
I can add colours to the chameleon,
Change shapes with Protheus for advantages,
And set the murderous Machiavel to school.
Can I do this, and cannot get a crown?
Tut, were it further off, I'll pluck it down.