I wish Kathryn Martin all good fortune with this brave book, which is filled with her sympathy for Richard, who did not have the advantage of modern medicine and treatment to help him.
I wish Kathryn Martin all good fortune with this brave book, which is filled with her sympathy for Richard, who did not have the advantage of modern medicine and treatment to help him.
This is not my work, but has been lifted entirely from British History Online. My contribution is the illustrations. It is a sensible assessment of the relationship of both Richard and Henry Tudor with the great city of York. :-
York, Richard of Gloucester, and Henry VII
There was much that was new in the political situation in the north after 1471. Warwick, whom the citizens had so often courted with gifts, was dead; the Percies had been restored; and Edward IV began deliberately to make his brother Richard ‘the greatest landowner as well as the most important official north of the Trent’. (fn. 1) Richard came to play a part in the life of the city, and to exercise a hold upon its loyalty, which influenced the city’s political actions even after 1485.
There is evidence of Richard’s influence as early as 1475. The city made presents to him and his servants, the mayor wrote letters to him, and the Duchess of Gloucester wrote letters to the mayor. (fn. 2) Next year the city enlisted the duke’s support when its dismissed common clerk appealed to Percy for backing; and he also intervened with the king to recognize the right of the city freely to elect a successor. (fn. 3) He intervened, too, in the war of civic factions which had driven one old alderman, William Holbek, to sanctuary in the Dominican friary. Duke Richard, accompanied by Percy and a large following, appeared at Bootham Bar and solemnly warned the citizens to keep the peace. On the other hand, he persuaded the king not to withdraw the city’s liberties, and received an expression of gratitude in the form of a present of swans and pike when he visited York at Christmas time. (fn. 4)
The association thus begun became closer. In 1477 Richard and his wife became members of the Corpus Christi Guild; (fn. 5) and Richard vigorously supported the citizens in clearing the Yorkshire rivers of fishgarths. (fn. 6) In 1478, however, it was the king rather than the duke who was being courted: the citizens persuaded him to visit York while he was in the north and spent £35 on his entertainment. (fn. 7)
But the flow of letters between Gloucester and the city went on, (fn. 8) and in 1480 York and The Ainsty produced a contingent of troops to follow Richard on a punitive expedition against the Scots. (fn. 9) In 1481 a force of 120 archers, half to come from The Ainsty, was similarly promised in return for a remission of taxation, and it marched off under the command of Alderman Wrangwissh. The campaign was scarcely over before, in face of a threat of Scottish invasion, both Gloucester and Northumberland asked York for more troops. Again the city complied, and its contingent, under the command of John Brackenbury, the mayor’s esquire of the mace, was sent off to join Gloucester at Durham. (fn. 10)
At this point Edward IV determined upon an invasion of Scotland under his own leadership in 1482. Energetic action by Gloucester was required to assuage another outbreak of civic faction in York, while at the same time he cemented good relations with the citizens by sending back one of their number who had been sheltered by a member of his household after committing some offence. The city reciprocated by taking prompt action against a saddler who was alleged to have slandered the duke, and by raising 80 men for his service in Scotland in June and a further 100 men in July. Their share in the campaign, however, was the subject of some scurrilous comment. John Lam was alleged to have said they deserved no wages, for they had done nothing but make whips of their bowstrings with which to drive carriages. This he denied, but told how some of the soldiers said that ‘they did nothing else but waited on the ordnance and carriage’, and one had been so weary ‘he was fain to take off the string of his bow to drive his horse with’. All the same it was no unsuccessful campaign which brought Berwick back into English hands. (fn. 11)
The death of Edward IV on 9 April 1483 diverted attention to more domestic matters. Richard of Gloucester appeared in York towards the end of the month, exacted an oath to Edward V from the northern nobles and perhaps the city authorities, (fn. 12) and borrowed money for his journey to London from, among others, Miles Metcalfe, one of his councillors who was also recorder of York. (fn. 13) The city decided to take advantage of the situation and sent John Brackenbury to ask for a reduction of its farm. On 5 June Richard wrote urging patience in this connexion. Five days later, however, he wrote again asking for military aid against the queen mother and her adherents.
The letter reached York on Sunday 15 June, but the mayor called the council together at once and it was resolved to send 200 men from the city and 100 from The Ainsty to join the army Northumberland was levying for Richard at Pontefract. (fn. 14) Thus York helped to put Richard of Gloucester on the throne, and it was as king he next visited the city at the end of August 1483.
For a month preparations for his reception had been going on. The wealthier citizens contributed nearly £450 to buy presents for Richard and the queen. On arrival, the sheriffs met the king at Tadcaster, the mayor and chief citizens at ‘Brekles mills’ (apparently not within the city), and the rest of the city at St. James’s Chapel on The Mount. The cavalcade entered by Micklegate Bar and was entertained by pageants as it passed through the streets. An official welcome was extended to the king by the mayor, and he was received by the dignitaries of the minster at its west door. Richard took up residence in the archbishop’s palace, and a week of feasting and entertainment followed. The Creed Play was performed in the king’s presence on 7 September and next day Richard’s son was invested as Prince of Wales.
Ten days later Richard gave practical expression of his gratitude to the city. He called the mayor, aldermen and others before him in the chapter house of the minster and promised a substantial reduction of their fee-farm. (fn. 15) Individuals, too, had their rewards. Nicholas Lancaster, city clerk 1477–80, was already a member of the king’s council; and Thomas Wrangwissh, who commanded the city’s forces in June 1483, received an annuity of 20 marks from the issues of Sheriff Hutton. (fn. 16)
York continued to serve Richard. In October 1483 the city sent soldiers under Wrangwissh’s command to assist him against Buckingham; and Richard used it as a base while trying to come to an accord with Scotland in the early summer of 1484. (fn. 17) It was during this visit that his northern council took definite shape, and its instructions in July 1484 laid down that it was to sit at least once a quarter in York to hear bills of complaint. (fn. 18) Almost at once its president, the Earl of Lincoln, was called upon to cope with an inclosure riot in York and to deal with a forger of coin—though in the latter case the city suffered his action with some trepidation for its liberties. (fn. 19)
By April 1485, however, the king was writing about those who threatened the peace he had sought to establish; in June he reported rumours of invasion, and the city council ordered all defencible men to be arrayed on 8 July; and on 16 August news of Henry Tudor’s invasion reached York. Despite a plague which was raging, the city council sent to Richard at Nottingham for instructions and began to levy troops. Word came back from Richard on 19 August, and on the same afternoon 80 men went off to join his army. They failed to arrive in time for Bosworth; but the mayor’s serjeant of the mace, who did fight there, rode in on 23 August to report that ‘King Richard, late lawfully reigning over us, was through great treason . . . piteously slain and murdered, to the great heaviness of this city’. (fn. 20) York’s loyalty to Richard of Gloucester remained firm to the end.
It had, nevertheless, to accommodate itself to the new situation. A letter was sent on 23 August to the Earl of Northumberland asking advice ‘how to dispose them at this woeful season’.
Next day a deputation met the earl outside Walmgate Bar, and the mayor visited a royal emissary at his inn because ‘he durst not for fear of death come through the city’. On the 25th a deputation went to the king asking him to be a good lord to the city, and the proclamation recording his victory was read. Finally, on 4 September, the king’s recognition of the city’s rights and liberties was brought back to York. (fn. 21) But this expedient conduct did not exclude reservations.
Two months after Bosworth, the city authorities still spoke of ‘the most famous prince of blessed memory, King Richard’; (fn. 22) and over the matter of their recorder they were almost truculent. Miles Metcalfe, who held the office, had been close to Richard; and Henry VII ordered his replacement by Richard Green, a servant of Northumberland’s. The city agreed, but only until such time as Metcalfe was received into the king’s grace. When Metcalfe did receive a pardon in October, it was blandly assumed that this settled the matter, Green being offered compensation in the form of membership of the twenty-four. Under pressure from Henry and Northumberland, the city council played a delaying game; and continued to do so when they produced rival candidates for the post on Metcalfe’s death in February 1486. In the end, moreover, they made their own choice of John Vavasour, formerly a servant of Richard III. (fn. 23) Doubtless the citizens were chiefly concerned to maintain their liberty of freely electing the recorder: in like manner they insisted on their right to choose their common clerk in November 1485 and resisted the king’s attempt to nominate to the office of sword-bearer in June 1486. Yet old Yorkist loyalties perhaps gave an edge to this defence of their freedom. As late as 1491, when a drunken schoolmaster abused King Richard, John Payntor denied him and told him that he lied. (fn. 24)
Meanwhile Henry VII had been received in York in 1486, at a cost of £66 to civic funds and with pageants stressing the king’s wisdom and the city’s loyalty. (fn. 25) Within a year this loyalty was put to the test. In March 1487 the city heard of the Earl of Lincoln’s intention to ‘give the king’s grace a breakfast’ and at once informed Northumberland and the king’s secretary. (fn. 26) It also asked for aid to repair its walls, and the king sent artillery from Scarborough Castle and put certain knights under the mayor’s command in case of attack. When Lambert Simnel did appear, he was refused entry to the city, and an attack by Lord Scrope of Bolton on 11 June was beaten off at Bootham Bar. Five days later came the news of the king’s victory, for which the mayor and aldermen gave thanks in the minster. (fn. 27)
Henry VII again came to York at the end of July and the Corpus Christi plays, postponed because of the rebellion, were performed before him on Lammas Day. Certain traitors were dealt with and William Todd and Richard York, mayor and alderman respectively, were knighted. The city was ‘dronkyn drye’, but new supplies were evidently available by 10 September when a gift of bucks from the Earl of Northumberland enabled the mayor, aldermen, councillors, and 600 citizens to sit down to a banquet in the Guildhall ‘with red wine sufficient without anything paying for the same’. (fn. 28)
Tribulations, however, were not quite over: 1489 saw the rising of the commons in the north and the murder of Northumberland. The mayor and council determined to hold the city for the king, but were frustrated by the ‘commonalty’, who would permit neither the Sheriff of Yorkshire nor Lord Clifford to enter the city to assist with its defence. The rebel leader, Sir John Egremont, on the other hand, was able to effect an entry in the course of which Fishergate Bar was burnt; and on 17 May the council advised the mayor to agree to Egremont’s demand for 20 horsemen to accompany him to Richmondshire for fear he should pillage the city. Even after he had gone the city authorities still went in fear that he would return; but they were no less afraid of the king’s anger, seeking to assuage it by deputations and presents to him, to the archbishops of Canterbury and York and to the king’s secretary. (fn. 29
In the event nothing disastrous happened, and after 1489 the city played a smaller part in national history. It provided troops to serve against the Scots in 1496–7; in 1501 it welcomed Scottish ambassadors negotiating a marriage alliance between the two kingdoms; and in July 1503 gave a royal reception to Princess Margaret as she travelled north to join her husband. (fn. 30) Despite a good deal of internal dissension, the men of York were for the most part ‘quiet, submissive and very good subjects during the rest of this king’s reign’. (fn. 31) To some extent this was probably due to Henry VII building up the Council of the North on the foundations laid by Richard III. (fn. 32) Direct royal intervention was never lacking when necessary, but both king and city expected some problems to be settled by the royal agents on the spot. At first the chief of these agents was Northumberland.
He was active in the matter of the recordership in 1485 and in disputes about common lands in 1486. He arbitrated in quarrels with the chapter in 1486–7 and between two aldermen in 1487. It was Northumberland the city informed of the Earl of Lincoln’s treachery and Northumberland who informed the city of Lambert Simnel’s landing. (fn. 33) After 1489 a similar part was played by the Earl of Surrey and the Abbot of St. Mary’s. (fn. 34) The city authorities did not always welcome such intervention, but it became firmer and more frequent as time passed and as the Tudors sought to bring the north parts under effective government.
Among the circumstances which governed the part played by York in national politics in the later Middle Ages, the Anglo-Scottish conflict ranks first. It was this which, between 1298 and 1337, conferred on the city a prominence in national affairs greater than at any time before or since. After 1337, however, though York still from time to time provided troops and served as a base of operations against the Scots, the urgency had departed from this issue. At the same time, from the beginning of the 15th century, the city began to find itself involved in the political conflict in which the great noble families were the main contestants. It allowed itself to be drawn into the wake of Scrope and Percy in 1405; and though for long it avoided any such commitment again, it tried to purchase the benevolence of the great men without its walls by gifts and flattery. Individuals established even closer ties with the great families of the north. In 1446 the recorder was sent to Lord Clifford at Skipton-in-Craven (W.R.) about a fishmonger who had received livery from Clifford; (fn. 35) and Miles Metcalfe and John Vavasour both held civic office and were retainers of Richard of Gloucester. Such things could happen despite the fact that, in 1446, 1457, 1486, and 1503, citizens were forbidden to use the livery of any lord, knight or gentleman. (fn. 36)
Yet this capitulation of the city to the forces of ‘bastard feudalism’ is inadequate to explain its loyalty to Richard III. He seems to have succeeded as no one else did—except perhaps Archbishop Scrope—in winning the hearts of the citizens; and Henry VII had some difficulty in reducing them to good, quiet, and submissive subjects. He had to forbid them to become the retainers of lords, though he may have established similar bonds with himself when he knighted Todd and York and gave them pensions from the Hull customs. (fn. 37) More important, however, were his peremptory demands for obedience and order, and the establishment of a group of royal agents in the north who backed those demands with detailed oversight and intervention at short range. In combination with economic difficulties and internal dissensions, these aspects of Tudor policy were to make 16th-century York less aggressively independent than it had been when it fought for King Richard and defied Henry VII and the Earl of Northumberland at one and the same time.
This article is very interesting, because it re-examines Shakespeare’s perverted version of Richard III. Yes, it’s about the play, and a production of it, but toward the end it deals with the REAL Richard, and how he has been damned by the Tudors and their propaganda. Well worth a read.
There is an interesting article by Sally Self in the Victoria County History, Gloucestershire, Newsletter 8, January 2018. I will repeat it in full, before making any comments of my own. Not to disprove anything, I hasten to say, but to show my own efforts to find out more about this key. I wish to thank Sally for giving me permission to reproduce her article.
“Cade Key or Cade Key? (GA 2025/Box8443/1)
“A recent discovery made while cataloguing at the Archives has intrigued several of us. A large iron key [estimated 10-11 cm] was found under documents that apparently had little relevance. The key has a wooden tag attached, noting that it belonged to the Cade family and was for the family vault. Showing the key to others elicited various suggestions. ‘They will have had to send for a locksmith’, ‘they would have needed a large hacksaw’ to ‘they won’t have been able to bury anyone’ and ‘explosives might be necessary.’
“When browsing for information on the ‘Cade’ family up sprung the words ‘Cade Key’. So, thought I, others have been there before me! Seemingly the family name was not ‘Cade’ but ‘Cade Key’ – I must have read the wooden tag incorrectly. Back to the key itself – but no it did indeed say ‘Key to the Cade Family Vault under Greenwich Church’.
“More research was needed. The ‘Cade’ family is of ancient Yorkshire lineage, probably pre-Conquest, with a coat of arms – I can buy a mug and/or a key ring embossed with their shield. The surname may derive from the word for a barrel or cask, possibly used as the sign for an ale house. There was of course Jack Cade of the Kent Revolt, 1450 and Shakespeare uses it in ‘stealing a cade of herrings’. According to family history sites, both the Cade and Cade Key family are now widely spread around the world, particularly in America and Australia.
“The Cade Key family vault is in Hampstead, where they lived in the early 19th century, William being nominated as a possible Sheriff for London, but he died in Bath in 1823. Further research into the families would have taken days and would probably not have shed any further light on ‘our’ key.
“So to the ‘Greenwich Church’. The most likely church is St Alfege of Greenwich, dedicated to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was martyred on the site in 1012. The medieval church of 1290 collapsed in a storm of 1710 and the present church was designed by Hawksmoor. If indeed the Cades are buried there, then they have illustrious company – Thomas Tallis, General James Wolfe, Henry Kelsey, an English-born explorer of Canada, the actress Lavinia Fenton and others – unfortunately no Cades are acknowledged!
“So one is left to wonder – did they have to break into their vault? If anyone is at Greenwich and has time to visit the church, perhaps they could find the answer!”
An intriguing item, this key. Why is it labelled as belonging to the Cade family vault at Greenwich, if there is no Cade family vault beneath that church? I agree with Sally that the church referred to has to be St Alfege’s, simply because there does not appear to be another candidate. However, there is a coat of arms for the Cade family of Greenwich. It is described in The General Armory as: “Erm. Three piles issuing out of a chief engr. Sa. Crest—A demi cockatrice gu. Winged or, combed of the first.” Which I think is something like the illustration below left, although I see no cockatrice, demi or otherwise.
So I investigated St Alfege’s. A church has stood on the site for 1000 years, and the present building is the third version. The medieval version was where Henry VIII was christened in 1491. According to From the Shadows: The Architecture and Afterlife of Nicholas Hawksmoor by Owen Hopkins:-
“During the night of 28 November 1710, a great storm ripped through London. Perhaps already weakened by the ‘Great Infamous Wind’ that had plagued Britain the previous month or maybe by excavations in the churchyard, the roof of the medieval church of St Alfege in Greenwich collapsed.”
When Nicholas Hawksmoor’s replacement church was built, the money ran out before his tower could be built, so in 1730 the old medieval tower was encased and redesigned by John James of Greenwich, with the addition of a steeple, to look as if it belonged to the rest of Hawksmoor’s design.
Is the crypt pre-Hawksmoor? It seems not. According to the National Churches Trust:
“The crypt is best known as the burial place of General James Wolfe but it was designed by Nicholas Hawksmoor to be a space for the living, and possibly a school. Soon after the church was consecrated in 1718, the parishioners of Greenwich decided they had other plans. People paid to be buried on the floor of the crypt and as a result the current floor level is about three feet higher than the original. Wealthy local families set up family burial vaults in the crypt, like the one used for James Wolfe. The vaults contain over 1,000 bodies. The crypt is currently only open to the public a few times a year.”
So I think the key must be 18th-century, as must be the Cade family vault to which it belongs. If there were to be such a vault. But there isn’t. Not in Greenwich, anyway. So which part of the key’s label is incorrect? The name Cade? The fact that it is concerned with Greenwich? Or maybe even that it isn’t the key to anyone’s vault, but to something else? Or, it belongs to the vault in Hampstead, where the Cades lived at the beginning of the 19th century. The site of the parish church of St-John-at-Hampstead (above) is, like St Alfege’s, about 1000 years old, and the present building is not the original, dating from 1747. There was a tomb in the churchyard (perhaps still is?) belonging to ‘Marck Cade, surgeon (1773)’. But if the key belongs to a vault in Hampstead, why is it in the Gloucester Archives? And how has it been misidentified?
When one thinks of the name Cade, it is almost always in connection with Jack Cade, who led a rebellion in Kent in 1450. Cade is still a very interesting and slightly mysterious figure. According to Matthew Lewis:-
“In July 1450, a mysterious man known as Jack Cade led a huge force of common men from Kent into London to protest against the ailing government of the Lancastrian king Henry VI. This episode is generally regarded as being outside the bounds of the Wars of the Roses, but those edges are blurred and elastic.
“When Jack Cade entered the capital he struck the London Stone, which can still be seen on Cannon Street, and, according to Shakespeare, proclaimed: “Now is Mortimer lord of this city!” After this, Cade openly adopted the provocative name John Mortimer. The Mortimer line was considered by many to be senior to the Lancastrian line, since the Mortimers were heirs apparent to Richard II – so adding weight to the later Yorkist claim to the throne.
“In 1460 Richard, Duke of York would trace his lineage from Edward III’s second surviving son, Lionel, Duke of Clarence, whose only daughter had married Edmund Mortimer. The House of Lancaster was descended from John of Gaunt, Edward III’s third son. The Mortimer Earls of March had been considered the lawful heirs of the childless Richard II before he was deposed, and the Lancastrian kings eyed them with suspicion. Was Jack Cade a son of this deposed line seeking restitution?
“Many would later claim that Richard, Duke of York had arranged for Cade to use the name ‘Mortimer’ to measure the response to it. Stow’s Chronicle, a Tudor source, claimed that the object of the uprising was to place York upon the throne, and Baker’s later A Chronicle of the Kings of England called Cade “an instrument of the Duke of York”.
“Cade – who was captured and fatally wounded following the failure of his rebellion – is a fascinating, elusive figure. Was he a genuine claimant to the throne, a social campaigner, or a puppet?”
A very interesting man indeed, who may have been of far greater significance than we fully realize now. Or, he may simply have been a cypher. Unless evidence is found that tells us one way or another, we are not likely to find out now.
Whatever the facts, in 1450 he appeared to be firmly based in and connected to the south of England, Sussex and Kent. According to surnamedb.com:- “the first recorded spelling of the Cade family name is shown to be that of Eustace Cade, which was dated 1186, in the ‘Pipe Rolls of Lincolnshire’, during the reign of King Henry II.” The Victoria County History newsletter says the family originated in Yorkshire. I do not know which is right. Perhaps both are, for I suppose they are not mutually exclusive.
By the way, the reason surnames became necessary was in order to tax people! Might have known. Otherwise, I suppose we’d all still be something like Will, son of Will, or Margaret, daughter of Will, and so on.
But the mystery of the Cade key lingers on. Has anyone any ideas about it? In the meantime, I do hope a present member of the Cade family isn’t seeking a key to the ancestors’ vault. . .in Greenwich or Hampstead.
See more about St Alfege’s Church at:-
There are many, many false ideas and funny beliefs about the Middle Ages and some of the notable figures who lived in those times. Alfred and the cakes, Edward II and the hot poker, Eleanor of Aquitaine flinging poisoned toads on Fair Rosamund… And of course, almost everything you can think of about Richard III. In popular ‘myths’ of the middle ages, still clinging on with remarkable tenacity, everyone was hobbit-sized, had bad teeth, burned witches and bathed once a year under duress.
Some of these ideas have come from folklore or from popular fiction, like certain famous plays we know (COUGH); others have been handed down by the good old Victorians who wrote history THEIR way, just as they ‘improved’ on real medieval churches by rebuilding them in a NEW, ‘improved’ cod-medieval style, often obliterating real ancient artifacts and chucking out effigies and tomb slabs in the process.
Recently I was rather pleased to find this interesting little ‘myth buster’ article–link below.
I was particularly happy to see not only a positive re-assessment of Richard but a mention of his scoliosis which showed an understanding of the condition. It is really not that rare, that obvious, or that debilitating, unlike the way certain parties STILL like to portray it.
This excellent Channel Four series reached part four on 28th April as Dr. Alice Roberts came to Norwich, showing streets, civic buildings and even a pub that I have previously visited, describing it as Britain’s most “Tudor” town. She began by describing Henry VII as “violently seizing” the English throne (or at least watching whilst his uncle Jasper and the Earl of Oxford violently seized it for him).
As the “Tudor” century progressed, she changed into a red woollen dress and explained how the sumptuary laws would have prevented her from wearing other colours and fabrics. Henry VIII’s attempts to obtain an annulment were mentioned, as was Kett’s Rebellion on Mousehold Heath under Edward VI. The Marian Persecution was described in detail and some of her victims in Norwich were named, most of them being burned at the “Lollards’ Pit”, where a pub by that name now stands. As we mentioned earlier, Robert Kett’s nephew Francis suffered the same fate decades later.
Dr. Roberts then spoke about the “Strangers”, religious refugees from the Low Countries who boosted the weaving industry, bringing canaries with them. Her next subject was Morris dancing as the jester Will Kemp argued with Shakespeare and danced his way up from London to the Norwich Guildhall over nine days. She was then ducked three times in the Wensum as an example of the punishment of a scold from Elizabeth I’s time.
Other shows in this series have covered Chester, York and Winchester whilst Cheltenham and Belfast will be covered in future episodes, each covering a town that epitomises a particular era in our history.
NB: Since posting this article, the trial and verdict have taken place, and according to The Times, Richard was innocent! See: https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/richard-iii-cleared-of-murder-on-a-hunch-xtkhlr5qn
Well, with all the hype about this upcoming “trial” of Richard III, I become more confused. Just which Richard is going to be in the dock? The real one? Or the monster created by the Bard? If it’s the latter, I fail to see how any other verdict than “guilty” can be brought in. After all, the Bard’s version commits his crimes on stage! And brags about them. Lady Justice Hallett will surely be reaching for the black cap even as she sums up.
So, dare I hope that this is going to be a sensible court case? With actual facts being allowed, instead of being shovelled aside by Shakespeare’s inky JCB?
PS: As a matter of interest to followers of Ricardian fiction, the actor who is to play Buckingham in the trial is David Oakes, who played Clarence in The White Queen.
“A 16th-century manuscript hidden in the depths of the British Library and decoded using plagiarism software has been pinpointed as a previously unknown source for Shakespeare’s plays.
“A Brief Discourse of Rebellion & Rebels by George North, a minor figure in Queen Elizabeth’s court, is, according to its finders and decoders, the source of more than 20 monologues and passages by the Bard.
“They claim that it inspired Richard III’s villainous determination, the character of King Lear’s Fool, the treatment of Jack Cade and the breeds of dog Macbeth compares to men.”
Well, yes, we’ve known for some time that the Bard borrowed from the work of other people, but this is apparently a new discovery. The comparison of North’s work and the opening soliloquy of Richard III is pretty convincing.
Here is a passage and note extracted from here:-
“By the time Shakespeare gets to the last of his history plays concerning the Wars of the Roses*, HENRY V, the party boy who would be king has become a man. . .”
“*Shakespeare wrote eight plays dealing with the Wars of the Roses during which time the crown passed back and forth between the House of York and the House of Lancaster. Henry VI, Parts 1, 2 & 3 and Richard III make up the second half of the story, but Shakespeare wrote this section first. He would later go back and write the first half of the story in Richard II, Henry IV Parts 1 & 2, and Henry V. . .”
I don’t know that I consider Shakespeare’s Henry IV and Henry V to be about the Wars of the Roses as such. Surely the wars began with Henry VI? Henry IV and Henry V are concerned with the first portion of the 15th century, well before the conflict. It’s like saying that plays about Queen Victoria and Edward VII are set during World War II. But then, I’m probably nit-picking.