Last autumn, we reblogged posts to illustrate that the denialists of the history world, quite apart from their antics with respect to Richard III, quoted an obviously non-existent part of a document about Edward II and cited a book on botany, with reference to John Pitt, 2nd Earl of Chatham, that he couldn’t have owned because it was clearly published after his death, mentioning Queen Victoria who acceded two years after Chatham’s death.
This next case concerns two of the Seymour brothers, of whom Thomas,
Baron Sudeley, was Lord Admiral and Edward, Duke of Somerset, was Lord Protector to Edward VI – both being roles in which Richard had served before succeeding. Sudeley was beheaded for treason in 1549 during Somerset’s Protectorate before the Duke fell in early 1552. Hester Chapman, a 1950s biographer of Edward, quoted the French ambassador, Antoine de Noailles, that John Dudley, then Earl of Warwick but later Duke of Northumberland, had persuaded Somerset to execute his brother.
As Christine Hartweg explains, Skidmore, who wrote about the boy king more recently, made the same claim yet de Noailles did not arrive in England until May 1553, a matter of weeks before Edward’s death, as his papers, published in five parts, show and he did not write about previous events.
One of Richard’s letters is included in this upcoming museum exhibition. Unfortunately for those on this British side of the Atlantic, the museum in question is in New York! The Magic of Handwriting: The Pedro Corrêa do Lago Collection will run from June 1 to September 16, 2018 at the Morgan Library and Museum in New York City.
Andrew Graham-Dixon has been on our screens for almost a quarter of a century; – he is tall, slightly grey, drawls a little and is an excellent art historian. His latest series tells the story of the Royal art collection – from Henry VIII and Holbein, Charles I and van Dyck, the Protectorate selling the collection off but Charles II rebuilding it, William III, the “I hate all boets and bainters” years of George II, George III’s careful acquisitions, George IV and Brighton, Prince Albert and the (profitable) Great Exhibition funding many London colleges, right up to the present day with Queen Mary and her dolls’ houses. Sadly, it says little about the pre-1509 era, although there is or was surely something from then in the collection.
If you cannot access the iPlayer for geographic reasons, or are too late, all four parts should now be on
The exterior of Bradford City Hall is adorned with sculptural interpretations of the kings of England. There are forty of them, from William I to Queen Victoria. The website indicated below gives a brief description of each one.
So, let us examine the likeness and description of the four kings of concern to us, Henry VI, Edward IV, Richard III and Henry VII. Please note, there was no Edward V, but then, I suppose he was never crowned, so never officially became king.
We’ll begin with Henry VI, who appears to be beloved of Bradford pigeons.
“King Henry VI (1422-1461, 1470-1471). The statue shows an austere figure in tight-fitting clothes under a dressing-gown like outer robe, one hand holding a sceptre, the other hand on his hip. His crown looks more like a mitre. The focus of the piece seems mainly on his long right leg.”
To be sure, those knee breeches look more late 18th/early 19th century than 15th. The barely-tied dressing robe and awkward leg rather complete the likeness of Lord Byron. Austere? No. Possessed of that purposeful chin? Not according to his portraits. And the pose is more vigorous than poor Henry was in his entire unhappy life!
Next we have a fine figure of Edward IV.
“King Edward IV (1461-1470, 1471-1483). The king is shown in plate armour, but has none of the muscularity of the statue of Henry V. One hand rests on the pommel of his sword, the other holds perhaps a scroll. The face is round and not youthful, and he wears no helm, suggesting he is posed in armour rather than likely to fight in it. He does not wear his crown either; it is on a tasselled cushion on a pedestal half behind him; the decoration of the pedestal with a carved olive branch indicates his peaceful rather than warlike intent.”
He is in armour, but has Beethoven’s head., and looks far too old to be Edward when he was able to squeeze glamorously into any armour. Because, as a young king, he was glamorous. As for being peaceful and unlikely to fight in armour, Edward may have gone to seed latterly, but had been one heck of a warrior. So we can dispense with the olive branch!
Now we come to Richard III and his description.
“King Richard III (1483-1485). Another statue which stands out in quality. He is shown looking downward, wearing a short tunic above and hose on his legs, and a short robe with fur edging. His left hand is almost clenched, and with his right one he is about to draw his sword, which hangs behind him. There is an emphasis on the muscles of his legs and breadth of his raised forearm to indicate his powerful physique, and coupled with the frowning expression, indicates a forceful king.”
Well, those Tudor bloomers don’t look right at all! The sculptor had the Bard’s Richard in mind, methinks. Nor does the San Andreas Fault forehead look right. If he screwed up his face like that all the time, I imagine he’d have a permanent headache. And I’m sorry, but he’s holding the sword in his left hand, while his right hand is in something resembling a fist. As for the powerful physique, well, we all know Richard was a slender man. Yes, he probably had powerful legs, but not as if he’d been on steroids. His legs had to be strong because when wearing armour in battles or jousts, he had to be able to clench his legs to stay on his horse while wielding a sword, lance or battle-axe. Puny legs wouldn’t have been much use. Was he a forceful man? No, he was far too lenient and trusting, and it cost him his life.
Now for Henry VII, who (heh, heh, heh) is covered in green mould!
“Henry Tudor (King Henry VII, 1485-1509). The sculptor has chosen to depict the king as a man of peace and religion, wearing long tunic and robe, holding sceptre and orb, the latter with a prominent cross on top. His expression is bleak, more so than his painted portraits would suggest, his face leathery, and on his head is a soft cap rather than a crown, though a heavy chain with medallion hangs prominently on his breast. Henry Tudor was particularly beloved by the Welsh, and there is a statue of him in Cardiff City Hall by Ernest Gillick. That statue is in full plate armour, and depicts a purposeful man striding to meet, or make, his own fate.”
Yes, the bleak and leathery face might do, especially toward the end of his life. A man of peace? Maybe…but only after he’d gone to war by invading England with a French army, killed Richard III through vile treachery and then plonked his scrawny Welsh posterior on the usurped throne. I’m glad to say that, thanks to the remaining Yorkists, it was a long time before his posterior could unclench! A very long time.
If you’d like to see the other thirty-six monarchs, please go to http://www.speel.me.uk/sculptplaces/bradfordcityhall.htm Or visit Bradford City Hall, of course.
As we reminded you yesterday, Richard and Anne were crowned on the 6th July 1483, a crucial part of the ceremony being when Richard was crowned with St Edward’s crown and invested with the royal regalia while sitting on the Coronation chair also known as St Edward’s chair, named after Edward the Confessor. It is this glorious chair that I want to focus upon now.
In 1296 when Edward I, aka Longshanks, returned from Scotland he brought with him the Stone of Scone, also known as the Stone of Destiny, symbolic of Scotland’s sovereignty, which he had removed from Scone Abbey, giving it into the care of the Abbott of Westminster Abbey. Edward, not for nothing known as the Hammer of the Scots, and wishing to hammer it home in no uncertain terms that from now on it would be English and not Scottish monarchs who would now be crowned whilst sitting on this stone, a large block of red Perthshire sandstone, instructed that a chair be constructed to house it and thus was this wonderful chair created. Master Walter of Durham, King’s Painter, whose skills also included carpentry, was commissioned to build and decorate the chair for which he was duly paid 100 shillings.
The Chair with the Stone of Scone intact
The Stone of Scone also known as the Stone of Destiny.
Since 1308 every royal derrière has sat on the chair while being crowned except for Edward V, Mary II and Edward VIII. Made of oak, gilded and inlaid with glass mosaics, traces of which can still be found today, while faint images or birds, flowers and foliage still survive on the back. Up until the 17th century the monarch would sit on the actual stone with presumably a cushion for comfort until a wooden platform was then added . The four gilt lions were made in 1727 to replace the originals which themselves were not added until the 16th century.
The stone itself has in recent times undergone several adventures. It was stolen, or rescued, depending upon which way you look at it, by Scottish Nationalists on Christmas Day 1950 – in the process of which they managed to break it in half. It was later discovered in April 1951 and after being kept in a vault for some time, eventually returned to Westminster Abbey and replaced in the chair in February 1952. This was not the end of the stone’s travels for in July 1966, Prime Minister John Major, announced that it was to be returned to Scotland. This was duly done and the stone now rests in Edinburgh Castle.
The chair as it is today minus the Stone of Scone
This wonderful and irreplaceable chair has been disgracefully abused in comparatively recent times, from the numerous graffiti mostly carved in the 18th and 19th centuries by the pupils of Westminster School – its baffling how this systematic graffiti carving was allowed to carry on – one graffito could perhaps be forgiven but on such a large scale? – were they simply allowed to just carry on?..but I digress – to the dark brown varnish applied in 1887 for Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee, a suffragette bomb in 1914 to the damaged caused when the Scottish Nationals wrenched the stone from the chair. However I’m sure should the shade of Richard, who would have seen the chair in pristine condition, ever return to the Abbey, he would still be able to recognise it and that it would bring back memories, for him, of that most glorious day, when he and his ‘beloved consort’ were both crowned King and Queen of England.
This article is quite interesting, although Richard only gets a brief mention, for moving Henry VI from Chertsey to Windsor. Edward IV is in there, of course, and Henry VII’s endeavours too, although he’s not buried there, of course. Wasn’t it grand enough for him? Whatever, he built himself an extravagant but truly beautiful resting place in Westminster Abbey.
See also our previous article.
Earlier this month, King Bhumipol (Rama IX) of Thailand died after a seventy year reign, a tenure only approached once in England, another three times since the Union of Crowns and one notable case in France.
This article explains the circumstances in which he originally succeeded.
The year is 1817. George III is quite elderly and insane with only three years of his long reign remaining but he still has several sons, many of whom have no legitimate issue. The exception is the Prince of Wales, another George who is serving as his father’s Regent again, this time on a permanent basis. He is separated from his wife but their daughter, Charlotte, is married to Leopold of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld. As autumn begins, Charlotte’s second pregnancy approaches its conclusion and the succession looks secure. On November 5, her son is stillborn and she died early the next day. Her “midwife” had been Sir Richard Croft, of the Mortimer’s Cross family, who shot himself the following February.
Without this tragedy, Victoria might not have been conceived and could well not have succeeded. Similarly, Lady Flora Rawdon-Hastings, at the centre of an apparent scandal that became a tragedy in 1839 , was descended from the Dukes of Clarence and Buckingham as well as William Lord Hastings, as we showed last month.
This article lists a few errors in two current popular drama series but its criticisms are not as authoritative as they may seem. On “Victoria”, it quotes Professor Jane Ridley, who is a leading expert on that monarch and is a descendant of one of England’s first married bishops, and A.N. Wilson on several points. However, some of the suggestions are not actually attributed to either source.
Professor Ridley insists that Victoria did not have a German accent and a recording may well exist to demonstrate this. She, her father and paternal grandfather were all British-born and raised. As soon as George I succeeded to the British throne, he moved permanently to this country with his heir, so the Hanoverians became principally a British dynasty. Prince Frederick (1707-51) lived in Germany until just after his father’s accession but crossed the North Sea eight years before his marriage and nine before any of his legitimate children were born.
Dramatists do make mistakes with historical programmes but their critics have been known to err as well. Ray Winstone’s Henry VIII (2003) is a case in point – his birthplace is near Henry’s in Greenwich and his accent was probably mis-rendered but one reader thought that he should “sound Welsh”. The “Tudors” was of particular interest to pedants as well.