Embarking on an intriguing journey through history, Tobias Capwell, a distinguished scholar, delved into the enigma of Richard III in a recent lecture hosted by the Arts Society de la Frontera. This exploration into the life of the infamous king sheds light on Capwell’s meticulous research, navigating the complex web of historical narratives to distinguish truth from fiction.
In the 15th century, the concept of monarchy rested on divine right, with the king serving as God’s earthly representative. Capwell painted a vivid tableau of opulence, tapestries, and armor—all strategically designed to convey the monarch’s authority to the common folk. However, a paradox lingered in the portrayal of Richard III, a king allegedly afflicted with a severe deformity. The intriguing question arose: how could such a monarch maintain authority and present himself to the public in armor and on horseback?
The dichotomy of historical portrayals further deepened the mystery. Shakespeare’s play, “Richard III,” written in 1597, perpetuated the image of a crippled king based on Sir Thomas More’s history from 1513. Conversely, Horace Walpole’s 1768 account absolved Richard of crimes but made no mention of deformity. Was this image of deformity merely invented by his opposing factions to undermine his claim to the throne of England or was there more to the story? The quest for truth led Capwell to scrutinise the accusations of murder against Richard, including murdering many of his own family with a claimed the throne of England the such as the infamous “princes in the Tower.” Was the king who was believed to be so crippled even capable of such violent acts?
We were posed with the following questions: How could an individual, purportedly as physically challenged as Richard was described, have possibly donned a complete suit of armour? How could he have mounted a horse and engaged in battles with his adversaries? Moreover, how could he have orchestrated the alleged murders of numerous individuals?
In an unexpected turn of events, whilst doing his research, our lecturer Toby received a letter from a young man named Dominic Sewell, who boldly asserted that he, too, grappled with a malformed spine akin to Richard’s. However, unlike the assumed limitations, Dominic led an active lifestyle. To support the research, Dominic agreed to undergo the fitting of a suit of armor and the rigorous training required to mount and ride a horse. The premise was simple: if Dominic could accomplish these feats, then perhaps Richard, too, could have performed such physical tasks. And to everyone’s amazement, Dominic not only took on the challenge but successfully demonstrated that the perceived physical barriers were, in fact, surmountable.
In 2005, the quest for Richard III’s final resting place took a cinematic turn when TV Channel 4 commissioned the gripping ‘Looking for Richard Project,’ drawing Philippa Langley into the fold. Philippa, fueled by her research, was convinced that Richard’s body lay not forgotten on the Bosworth battlefield but had found sanctuary in the Priory church of the Greyfriars in Leicester.
The challenge, however, was daunting. The ancient church building had crumbled over the centuries, leaving no trace of Richard’s elusive grave. The only clue pointed toward the vicinity of the newer St Martin’s Cathedral, surrounded by three now-tarmac-covered car parks.
Armed with years of accumulated knowledge, Philippa embarked on a daring excavation mission. With permissions granted, contractors enlisted, and funding secured, the first dig unearthed a grave housing a skeletal figure with telltale signs of deformity. The question loomed large: Could this be the long-lost remains of Richard III?
To settle the centuries-old debate, further research delved into the ancestry of Richard. Descendants of the king’s siblings emerged, offering a crucial link. Samples of their DNA became the key to unlocking the mystery, providing the definitive proof that had eluded historians for generations.
Confirmation came like a seismic revelation—the skeleton was indeed Richard’s. Plans were set in motion to honourably exhume the remains and reinter them in a more fitting resting place. Thus began a solemn procession, a cortege led by a small group of horse guards, Tobias and Dominic adorned in 16th-century armour and on horseback, with Philippa following behind.
The journey culminated in Leicester Cathedral, where, after a few thoughtful revisions, Richard III was laid to rest with the dignity befitting the only English anointed king who had long been denied a proper burial. It was more than a historical discovery; it was a deeply personal encounter, a respectful closure to a chapter in English history that had long been veiled in uncertainty.