Everyone knows about Leslau and his theories concerning the Hans Holbein portrait of Sir Thomas More and his family. In Leslau’s opinion, the portrait reveals much about the fates of the “Princes in the Tower”. Another Holbein painting, “The Ambassadors” is also filled with secret messages. Or so it is said. I cannot argue one way or another, because I do not know.
Now it seems there are similar mysteries to be solved in the National Portrait Gallery of Richard III. The hands/rings are crafted to expose cryptic clues and give answers concerning his supposed involvement in the deaths of the same two boys mentioned in regard to the More portrait above.
If you follow this link:-
http://www.holbeinartworks.org/efaqssevenkrichardiiitwentyone.htm you will come to a long article (some 70 pages in all) about Richard III. It details Richard’s activities from early on, for instance, when still Duke of Gloucester, he would not accept a French bribe. It dissects the likes of Commynes and Mancini, revealing how the use of invisible ink (probably lemon juice) added information for certain eyes only, almost like a 15th-century le Carré. And at the centre of it all is Richard, plotted against and lied about, his fault being to “underestimate his enemies and overestimate his friends”. His fate being to be innocent, yet
“proven “ guilty by his self-interested foes, especially the French and Henry VII, often working in unison.
So here we go into the pages of ENIGMAS: THE PRINCES AND THE KING: RICHARD III, which commences:-
“#1. “Apart from the Holbein evidence, does “new” documentary evidence exonerate Richard III from the charge of having murdered his two nephews?”
“Apart from the Holbein allegations, you ask if “new” documentary evidence exonerates Richard III from the charge of having murdered Edward V and Richard, Duke of York. The short answer is ‘No’. However, if DNA findings are positive it means that new evidence can be added to old evidence that will exonerate Richard III for all time. In the event, we will request further instructions from the inquiry. For the present, we continue to test ALL evidence by NIET criteria. The aim and objective is to plan on paper and build on rock.
“To this end, I offer for the first time some seventy or more pages of abstracts from the files of new NIET positive and negative evidence entitled The Princes and the King : Richard III. The pages are divided in ‘Parts’, 1 through 8.”
Given the length and depth of all this, I trust you will forgive me for not attempting to go into great detail.
This link gives more details concerning the NPG portrait, and in particular the configuration of Richard’s fingers and rings.
I will not spoil it all by revealing too much here, but suggest that if you don’t know about all this already, then an hour or so spent delving through the articles will be rather rewarding. Even if you end up pooh-poohing the whole thing.
Whether one believes such theories or not, unravelling them is fascinating, and always—always—there are some points that have enough ring of truth about them to get us wondering if there’s something in it after all. Please excuse the awful pun.
Writing The Survival of the Princes in the Tower was an enormously enjoyable project. The book, due out in Autumn 2017, considers the evidence that one, or both, of the sons of Edward IV survived well beyond 1483, when they are traditionally considered to have been murdered by their uncle Richard III. My problem with this almost universally accepted view has always boiled down to one irreconcilable dichotomy. Richard, we are told by writers from Sir Thomas More onwards, killed his nephews to secure his throne and prevent them from being a threat. Then, he kept it secret, so that no one knew they were dead. The fatal flaw in this argument is that unless Richard publicised the deaths of his nephews, the threat did not go away, as Henry VII would find out. If Richard killed them, he did it to prevent them being used as a threat, but unless he made it widely known that they were dead, they did not cease being a potential source of opposition and so the murders were rendered utterly pointless.
If a leap of faith is taken and it is accepted for a moment that the boys were not killed, many otherwise incomprehensible events begin to make more sense. What if Elizabeth Woodville emerged from sanctuary in Westminster Abbey with her daughters in March 1484 because the Princes were not dead? Why else would she write to her oldest son Thomas and advise him to come home? Why, many will ask, is there no trace of them in the historical record? Well, there wouldn’t be, would there? It was in Richard’s and Henry VII’s interests to keep their location and maybe even their survival, particularly in Henry VII’s case, a secret, so why would records be left lying around that would point to them? What may be surprising is just how many snippets that just might hint at their survival do remain. There is nothing conclusive, of course, but the clues are there.
Part of the problem becomes the number of different version of the fates of one or both Princes that can be found. They can’t all be true. This is a particular problem in relation to the younger Prince, Richard, Duke of York. There are three theories amongst those relating to Richard that are, at least superficially, mutually exclusive. The career of the young man remembered as Perkin Warbeck is perhaps the most famous example of a pretender to Henry’s throne. It is an important distinction that a ‘pretender’ is very different from an ‘imposter’. A pretender, in this context, is a name derived from the French ‘pretendre’, ‘to claim’, whilst an imposter is a fraud claiming an identity that does not belong to them. In the same way, it is applied to James Stewart, son of James II, who is known as the Old Pretender, the term does not necessarily imply an imposture. There was never any doubt of James’ identity and the term does not infer that Perkin was an imposter either.
There are two other stories of Richard’s survival that are prominent. Jack Leslau’s theory has fascinated me for years. It is very detailed and the evidence is examined in the book, but essentially it asserts that Richard, Duke of York survived as Dr John Clement, a prominent physician and a member of Thomas More’s inner circle. If true, it means that his survival was an open secret at the courts of Henry VII and Henry VIII and alters More’s motives in his creation of the story of the Princes’ murder. David Baldwin’s The Lost Prince details a further theory that Richard may have survived at Colchester, where he trained as a bricklayer. A Moyle family legend tells of a bricklayer employed by Sir Thomas during the rebuilding of Eastwell Place who was caught reading a Latin book. After much cajoling, the elderly man identified himself as an illegitimate son of Richard III. He was given a plot of land on which to build a house and live out his retirement and on his death, his name was recorded in the parish register as Richard Plantagenet. Since Richard III recognised his two known illegitimate children, it has been suggested that Richard of Eastwell was, in fact, Richard, Duke of York.
These are just three of the theories, but it raises the question of how they can be reconciled to one another, even if one accepts any of them might be true. It is not impossible, though. There is intriguing evidence that Perkin might have been far more genuine than tradition allows, not least that the Spanish monarchs Ferdinand and Isabella believed that he really was Richard, Duke of York. There are also contemporary suggestions that Perkin and his wife, Lady Catherine Gordon, had one child and possibly more.
What if Perkin really was Richard, Duke of York? What, then, if one of his sons was raised as Dr John Clement, an identity, based on University records, that might have been meant for his father and was simply transferred to the son? Could the bricklayer at Eastwell have been another son, who added to his age and secured a comfortable retirement with his version of the truth? This is just one possible explanation that allows three of the prominent stories of Prince Richard’s survival to exist alongside each other. There is more detail in the book, which I have no doubt will cause some waves.
One thing became clear as I was writing: All that is required to accept the survival of the Princes in the Tower is a belief that Richard III was not a reckless and disorganised enough monster to kill his nephews and then fail to see his motive realised by keeping it all a secret, that Henry VII was similarly averse to killing his brothers-in-law and possibly their young children for the love of his wife if for no other reason and that Henry VIII, at the beginning of his reign, was self-confident and assured enough to allow Plantagenet relatives to live in peace. None of these is hard to accept. Richard III did not harm Edward, Earl of Warwick or any of his other nieces and nephews. Henry VII did not execute Warwick until adulthood and only under pressure from the Spanish to complete the match between Arthur and Catherine of Aragon. As for Henry VIII, the teenager was very different from the older man. He created Warwick’s sister Margaret Countess of Salisbury, paid for the education of at least one of her sons, Reginald Pole, and was close to his uncle Arthur Plantagenet, an illegitimate son of Edward IV, until his paranoia ran wild.
I hope that the book will cause some to at least pause and consider the possibilities, to question why it is that there is a belief the Princes were killed at all and what it might mean if they did survive. The belief in their murders would be the ultimate propaganda victory of the Tudor era but might also have left them with a threat that lingered almost as long as the Tudors themselves did.
Some thoughts on source material about events of 1483, the pre-contract and murder.
I read a series of blog posts recently that sought to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Richard III ordered the deaths of his nephews. Whilst I don’t take issue with holding and arguing this viewpoint I found some of the uses of source material dubious, a few of the accusations questionable and some of the conclusions a stretch. There are several issues with the narrow selection of available sources that continually bug me. It is no secret that any conclusive evidence one way or another is utterly absent but I have issues with the ways the materials are frequently used.
There are four main sources that are often used, two contemporary and therefore primary sources and two near-contemporary which are habitually treated as primary. The farthest away in time from the events that it describes is also the one traditionally treated as the most complete and accurate account, which…
View original post 4,469 more words
The reaction to the first part of “Kendall 2014” has been interesting. “According to Williams, Brampton was sent to Portugal as early as 22 March 1485, only six days after Anne’s death. ‘Brampton brought a double proposal to Portugal – for Richard to marry Joanna and for Elizabeth of York to marry…John, Duke of Beja…In return Richard offered, if necessary, to send an English army to help the King against dissident members of the aristocracy…'” – ie Brompton was despatched eight days EARLIER than we had previously known him to have been in Portugal, although the sea journey would surely be shorter. Apparently, some people think that the Portuguese archives mean something other than they actually say.
Now on to an even more important issue – that of her brothers, the “Princes”. Writing towards a 1955 publication, Tanner and Wright’s report from 1934 would still be fresh in the reader’s mind and Kendall’s first appendix assumed the full accuracy of their conclusions, including their approximate ages at death – “the Princes were murdered at the instigation of one of three men” (p.466), an assumption also followed by Tey in her remarkable amalgam of C15 history and C20 fiction.
In the nearly sixty years since his publication, science in particular has marched on and the Tanner-Wright conclusions, having been reviewed by later practitioners, can no longer be said to follow their basic report. Hanham, Williamson and Fields, in the seventies and eighties, were the first to dispute the assumption that the boys had necessarily been killed by anyone at all, a disputation that necessitated a challenge to the scientific conclusions. Leslau’s theory that both lived on in close proximity to (of all people) More dates from this period. It was followed by Wroe’s 2003 “Perkin” and Baldwin’s 2007 “The Lost Prince”, both being full-length expositions of hypotheses that one “Prince” or other may have lived until executed in 1499 (Wroe) or did live peacefully into the 1530s (Baldwin). Ashdown-Hill has referred to the subject obliquely in the excellent “Eleanor” and traced a lock of hair from Mary “Tudor” (Brandon), their niece, although it was of no avail in mtDNA terms. He has also written about Richard’s brief Low Countries exile, which should serve as a significant clue.
It is the recent arrival of Carson’s “The Maligned King” that has moved the situation on further. Chapter 9 (pp. 167-199) reviews the various survival options, the Gipping possibility and “Perkin”‘s “chain of custody” until he reappears with the Brampton household, the sheer improbability of: the killings and single-handed burial ten feet deep with nobody else on a busy site noticing, the removal and reburial by the same priest before the bones mysteriously returned to the first site, the unmolested life of the “culprits” (Tyrrell and Dighton) until 1502 and the latter’s “confession” eight or more years after his execution. Chapter 10 (pp. 200-233) deals with the science, in the era of DNA analysis, which identified Richard himself. The more recent experts are referred to from page 215. They disagree with each other a little but it is noticeable that they contradict Tanner and Wright. We cannot be certain of the remains’ gender or congenitality, whilst the elder corpse suffered from a jaw disease of terminal effect that witnesses must have noticed, except that nobody did. Furthermore, evidence is adduced (p.214) that the depth of the burial suggests the eleventh century. It is now apparent that we cannot assume either of Edward IV’s remaining sons to have been killed during 1483-7 by anyone.
Of course, it is a trait of the Cairo-dwellers to adhere firmly to any convenient statement, even when they know that it has been comprehensively disproven. This may be the issue where cognitive dissonance gives way to a degree of dishonesty on their part. It is important to note that, by 1478, Richard of Gloucester had only three (legitimate or then thought so) fraternal nephews. Of two, subsequently proved illegitimate, the fate is unknown. Of the third, excluded by attainder, we know that Richard treated him well, only for Edward of Warwick to be imprisoned almost immediately after Bosworth and eventually executed on a pretext. Richard’s conduct in this case should attest to his character and likely treatment of the first two.