Sir Walter Scott invented "The Wars of the Roses"

Here's an interesting passage from Chris Given-Wilson in a recent London Review of Books:

There are several earlier references, dating back at least to the early 14th century, to red and white roses being used occasionally as insignia by the families later associated with the Lancastrian and Yorkist causes, but it was not until Shakespeare picked up on the idea in Henry VI Part I... that it entered the popular imagination. ...

It was another two hundred years before Walter Scott’s novel Anne of Geierstein, published in 1829, brought the idea of the ‘wars of the White and Red Roses’ into common usage. Since then it has become synonymous with the political turmoil which, between 1455 and 1485, saw four English kings deposed (one of them twice) and fifteen internecine ‘battles’ – some of them in reality just skirmishes – fought on English soil, from Dartford in Kent to Hexham in Northumberland to Mortimer’s Cross on the Welsh border.

There are those, of course, who would like to bin the label, but that is a vain hope. During the last quarter of the 20th century at least seven British historians published monographs entitled The Wars of the Roses, and scholars in the 21st century appear to be trying to keep pace.

Sure enough, Given-Wilson was reviewing The Wars of the Roses: A Medieval Civil War by John Watts.

Obliging reader's voice: I gather the death of Richard III at the Battle of Bosworth is accepted as having marked the end of these wars. Have you by any chance contributed an article that touches upon it to Central Bylines recently?

Liberal England replies: Why yes! Yes I have.

For Central Bylines: The discovery of Richard III enriched Leicester in every way

I've written another article for Central Bylines. This one celebrates the discovery of Richard III beneath Leicester's most famous car park, and also defends the city against Yorkists and archaeology against Steve Coogan:

Having lived in both cities, I know that, in terms of pub and street names, Richard has always had a greater presence in Leicester than York. You will even find a King Richard III Infant and Nursery School in Leicester – Ofsted rates it as “Good”, but would you send your nephews there?

Gypsy: Changes Coming

The two best bands to emerge from Leicester in the Sixties were Family and Gypsy. Family are the more celebrated today, but I've been told by someone who was on the scene in those days that there was a view in Leicester that Gypsy were the better band live. We've already hear Gypsy on this blog under their earlier name Legay.

Changes Coming was released as a single in August 1971 and the band appeared on Top of the Pops. But the song was then removed from BBC playlists because some suit decided it was too political, with the result that it wasn't a hit.

The song's writer, Robin Pizer, says today it was merely "a loose commentary on current events during those years of global demonstrations".

I'm told that after this Gypsy turned more to a country rock sound - in fact, there's already a Neil Young flavour to Changes Coming.

It's hard to discover much about Gypsy online, perhaps because of confusion with an American band with the same name. The best article I have come across is one on Jazz Rock Soul.

And as I said in the Legay post, Robin Pizer, who was the band's singer, is still writing songs. Here he is on the discovery of Richard III.

Hilary Mantel on the finding of Richard III

Here's Hilary Mantel, writing in the London Review of Books, 21 February 2013:

Royal bodies do change after death, and not just as a consequence of the universal post-mortem changes. Now we know the body in the Leicester car park is indeed that of Richard III, we have to concede the curved spine was not Tudor propaganda, but we need not believe the chronicler who claimed Richard was the product of a two-year pregnancy and was born with teeth. 

Why are we all so pleased about digging up a king? Perhaps because the present is paying some of the debt it owes to the past, and science has come to the aid of history. The king stripped by the victors has been reclothed in his true identity. This is the essential process of history, neatly illustrated: loss, retrieval.

For myself I found the archaeology and the cutting-edge science involved in proving Richard's identity fascinating, and was unexpectedly moved by the day of his reburial in Leicester Cathedral:

When the plans for taking Richard's bones around the Bosworth battlefield and the villages associated with it were announced, I wondered if it was a good idea. But it turned out to be an act of genius and I found myself ridiculously moved.

This, I think, had less to do with Richard III and more to do with the community involvement. Councillors, ex-servicemen, Scouts and Brownies... 

What we saw on BBC News and heard on BBC Radio Leicester was the sort of civic England you fear had been lost to modernisation and the turbo-capitalism.

Because the day was not about celebrating Richard III or the monarchy: it was about celebrating our pride in Leicester and Leicestershire. In the end, the day was about ourselves.

And then Richard's return to Leicester in triumph, rather than naked over the back of a horse.

Let no one tell you that history cannot be rewritten.

When filmmakers trample all over real-life stories you care about

There should be an ancient Chinese curse: May someone make a film of a real-life story you care about.

I went to a couple of open days at the Richard III dig before it was announced that they thought they had found him, and went to several academic events after his identity had been confirmed. I even filed past Richard's coffin to pay my respects, which was more than I did for Elizabeth II.

The whole episode was a marvellous example of interesting and involving the community in archaeology. I find I got quite emotional about the day Richard was reburied.

So we really didn't need Steve Coogan and his film to give us a false picture of these events.

I didn't see The Lost King because I knew it would annoy me, and I had already been annoyed by another film in the autumn 2022.

See How They Run was a murder mystery set in and around the record-breaking London run of Agatha Christie's play The Mousetrap.

I have just written an article for Central Bylines on the play's roots in a real-life death – that of 12-year-old Dennis O'Neill on a farm in the Shropshire hills in 1945.

As I suspected, See How They Run used this story, but it contrived to end with a young man called Dennis being clubbed to death. He had been committing the murders as a protest against Christie's exploitation of his family's story.

In the review I posted after seeing it, I quoted the American film writer Gregory Mysogland:

Christie expresses sympathy for him but states that to not write about tragic topics would be to deny a part of who she is. This is an understandable viewpoint, but it's also the last word the film says on the issue, and as such is much too simplistic and one-sided. ...

Eventually, Christie herself kills Dennis by hitting him in the head with a shovel, comically going in for more blows before the others stop her. Although Henderson's manic performance is good enough to make this scene darkly funny on first viewing, upon reflection, it adds to the exploitation of the O'Neill's represented by Dennis' role. 

Making the character a murderous villain and then dismissing his legitimate argument with a wave of the hand is bad enough, but having him meet a violent death similar to the real Dennis's is cruel and immoral, not to mention completely against the ideas the film tries to bring up in relation to him.

Mysgoland was right. I could have done without this film too.

Steve Coogan, Richard III and today's libel settlement

I was going to write a post about Steve Coogan, the Richard III dig in Leicester and today's new of a libel settlement. But I found that I had said pretty much what I wanted to say on the subject in September 2022.

The post is titled Steve Coogan, Richard III and conspiracy theories and my conclusion there is:

A story about a lone eccentric who proves the establishment wrong makes for an appealing film, but it has little to do with what went on in Leicester that autumn.

And I quoted the archaeologist Mike Potts:

I think ultimately what’s at stake here is public information. The Lost King’s persecution story is a conspiracy theory working the same levers as climate denial or anti vaxing. Not as serious clearly, but if you care about an informed society it matters

I know I'm biased, but I think that post is worth a read if you're at all interested in this affair.

Leicester Cathedral's oral history project on the discovery of Richard III

Leicester Cathedral is running an oral history project to capture the story of the discovery, identification, and reinterment of Richard III in 2015.

Here are a few snippets from the project's site:

Richard Buckley, former director of University of Leicester Archaeological Services, talking about Philippa Langley's powers of persuasion

"The site was occupied by Social Services department, but Philippa managed to get the ear of the then Chief Executive, Sheila Locke, who was attracted by the idea, which I thought, you know, if I'd gone to them and said, 'I want to destroy your car park on this wild goose chase for an unachievable project'", they'd have said 'No', so fair play to her for getting them to agree, so that, yes, they agreed to that." 

Jo Appleby, osteologist at the University of Leicester, on realising she was working on Richard III's skeleton 

"So, I started looking a little to the side to see if that was it, and I realised that no, the spine did go to the side, but it went to the side in anatomical alignment, it was still, it was still articulated. And as I followed it round, I began to realise, okay, there's a, there's a curve in this spine. And that was the point where I thought, I think this is Richard. 

"I'd already, when we started uncovering the upper cranium, that we weren't sure if it was part of the body, I'd noticed that there was an unusually square looking hole in the cheek. And I thought, well it's probably just some damage from the ground, but it was very strangely square hole that does look a bit suspicious, I wonder what that is. 

"And that was the point where I put those two things together, and I thought, that square hole actually is genuinely an injury, isn't it?"

Richard Buckley on being told by Matthew Morris what had been discovered:

"But then Mathew then whispered a bit slightly more assertedly. 'Well, the skeleton's got evidence for trauma to the skull and curvature of the spine'. And for me, that was when it was... It was like an out of body experience, it was like things were now happening that I had no control over, and I just couldn't believe it, and I couldn't, I can't repeat what I said!

"I jumped up and down! You know, nowadays, what's it called... That programme called Detectorists, where they talk about the dance that the detectorists do, where they find some gold. I think I did a bit more of a stamping, I think mine was, because I just couldn't believe it. 

"You know, I really couldn't believe it. What are the odds then, of being successful? So anyway, that's what happened."

Wilding: A film based on Isabella Tree's book

It occurs to me that three of the films I have seen most recently at the cinema have been documentaries: Eric Ravilious - Drawn to War, Made in England: The Films of Powell and Pressburger and - today - Wilding.

As the shortcomings of Steve Coogan's The Lost King show, dressing up a true story in a contrived drama does not necessarily do that story any favours. (You can download a good article on the film by Mike Pitts from the British Council for Archaeology site.)

But then I read fewer novels and more factual books these days too.

Anyway, Wilding looks beautiful, and if you liked Isabella Tree's book then you will certainly enjoy this film.

Steve Coogan film on the finding of Richard III defamed former University of Leicester official

From the Guardian website today:

The portrayal of a former university official in Steve Coogan’s film about the discovery of the remains of Richard III is defamatory, a high court judge has ruled.

Richard Taylor, a former deputy registrar at the University of Leicester, is suing Coogan, the production company Baby Cow and the distributors Pathe.

He claims the 2022 movie The Lost King shows his character, played by Lee Ingleby, behaving in an “abominable way” towards the amateur historian Philippa Langley, played by Sally Hawkins, who spearheaded the dig.

Taylor claims the film shows him taking credit for himself and the university that was rightfully Langley’s for the 2012 discovery of Richard III’s remains in a Leicester car park more than 500 years after the king’s death.

The defendants denied that the film portrayed such a “saint and sinner” narrative but, in a judgment published on Friday, Judge Lewis said its portrayal of the former university employee was defamatory.

You can download the full judgment.

I didn't see The Lost King because I sensed it would annoy me too much, but from everything I have read about it this seems the right verdict.

The finding of Richard III was a fine example of archaeology enthusing the wider community and did not deserve such a misleading portrayal.

The Lost King libel action comes to court

I've blogged before about Richard Taylor's intention to sue the makers of the film The Lost King over the way he is represented in it. Taylor was deputy registrar of the University of Leicester at the time of the dig that found the remains of Richard III.

The case has now come to court.

BBC News reports:

Steve Coogan is being sued for libel by a university official who claims he was made to look "devious" and "weasel-like" in a film about the discovery of Richard III's remains.

Richard Taylor has started legal action against the comedian, who was a writer and producer of The Lost King.

Mr Taylor said he was unhappy about the way his character was portrayed.

The report goes on to give more detail: 

A hearing at the High Court, on Thursday, was told Mr Taylor was bringing legal action against Mr Coogan, his production company Baby Cow, and Pathé Productions.

William Bennett KC said his client Mr Taylor was presented as being "dismissive, patronising and misogynistic" towards Ms Langley.

In written submissions, the barrister said: "The relevant context is the 'good versus bad' narrative, which runs through the film.

"Ms Langley is portrayed as the gutsy underdog heroine struggling against opposition and the claimant as the arrogant villain.

"He not only takes steps to make sure that people do not know about her role but takes the credit, which was rightfully hers, for himself and the university."

Mr Taylor, who is now chief operating officer at Loughborough University, was also shown as a "devious, weasel-like person" and a "suited bean-counter", Mr Bennett told the court.

The barrister later said Mr Taylor was portrayed as "mocking" Richard III's disability and "linking physical deformity with wickedness or moral failings".

Mr Bennett added: "It's a straightforward, plot-driven film where everything that is said and done matters."

Mr Coogan, who did not attend the hearing, and the two production companies are defending the libel claim.

 I don't know if it's possible to prejudice civil proceedings, but for now let my just say...

The case continues.

The Princes in the Tower: The final verdict

This is the one I've been waiting for. I've not watched it yet, but if they leave Richard III alone in the interview room with Barlow, he'll get a confession out of him in no time.

It's an odd programme: Stratford Johns and Frank Windsor investigate historical crimes in the roles of Charlie Barlow and John Watt that they played in Z Cars, Softly Softly and Softly Softly: Task Force.

This device was first used in a six-part investigation of the Jack the Ripper murders screened in 1973. It was notable because the writer, Elwyn Jones, introduced the conspiracy theory involving the Royal Family that Stephen Knight later popularised in his Jack the Ripper: The Final Solution, which was published in 1976.

Now to watch them tackle Richard III and see Barlow get his man to cough.

A podcast on Ladybird Books and L. du Garde Peach

We should soon have the answer to the question of who murdered the Princes in the Tower. 

A YouTube channel says it will be posting the Second Verdict programme from 1976 in which Barlow and Watt from Softly, Softly investigate the mystery.

Let's see Richard III go head to head with Barlow in the interview room and see if he still looks so innocent.

In the mean time, we can listen to an episode of The History of England podcast which looks at Ladybird Books and in particular at their books on British history and the author of many of them, L. du Garde Peach.

Peach who, besides the many accomplishments outlined here, was a Liberal parliamentary candidate - he fought Derby at the 1929 general election - emerges as an attractive figure.

Who found Richard III and did the Princes in the Tower survive?

Philippa Langley was the catalyst of the dig that found Richard III in Leicester. In particular, she played an invaluable role in getting the city council enthused by the project. Without her intervention, it would not have agreed to the excavation of Britain's most famous car park.

But she is not "the historian who found Richard III," as you so often see her described. The old boy was found by archaeologists from the University of Leicester.

For a fair account of the dig, I recommend a History Extra podcast with the archaeologist and author Mike Pitts. It was recorded just as the film The King in the Car Park was released, and as Pitts foresaw, that film has led to trouble. 

He later gave his own views on the fairness of the way the film paints the university. As you will see from the post I wrote at the time, they were pretty forthright.

******

The idea that the Princes in the Tower survived, at least for a time, is an enticing one. Similar stories were told about the children of the last Tsar, Nicholas II, and about Louis XVII, the young son of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette.

Many supported the claim of Anna Anderson that she was Anastasia, the Tsar's youngest daughter, while Peter Bessell, the Liberal MP of the 1960s, supported a man who claimed to be the Tsarevich Alexei.

This blog's hero Vaughan Wilkins wrote a novel. A King Reluctant, which imagined Louis XVII had been rescued and sent to Britain. This was filmed as Dangerous Exile, and as it was a British film of the 1950s, the boy was played by Richard O'Sullivan.

In recent years DNA fingerprinting - another breakthrough by the University of Leicester - has shown the the conventional wisdom was correct. Nicholas II's children all died with him at Yekaterinburg. Louis XVII died at the age of 10 while a prisoner at the Paris Temple.

I didn't find last weekend's documentary Philippa Langley and Robert Riner convincing, but the evidence that Richard III murdered the Princes in the Tower is not overwhelming. The boys just faded from view and the circumstantial case against Richard is strong.

Some commentators in the press, annoyed by Langley (as it easy to be), have leant too strongly on the discovery of two children's skeletons in the Tower of London in 1674 and their burial in an urn at Westminster Abbey. 

My impression is that there is much scepticism among historians about the identification of these bones as the remains of the Princes in the Tower. And the fact that the Royal Family and the Westminster Abbey authorities have resisted calls for the opening of the urn in recent years suggests there is a worry that tests would reveal that it does not contain royal remains. What would they do with the bones then?

For a better presentation of the case for the survival of the Princes in the Tower, listen to Matthew Lewis on the latest History Rage podcast.

Proof the Princes in the Tower lived longer than Richard III?

Back in August I sent you off to a podcast featuring the historian Matt Lewis and his theory that the Princes in the Tower survived for some years after they disappeared from public sight in 1483.

This evening he has posted a new podcast in this Gone Medieval series in which Philippa Langley, who came to prominence as the catalyst of the archaeological dig that found Richard III in Leicester, presents what sounds like remarkable new evidence that supports Lewis's theory.

The story is also in tomorrow's newspapers. Here's the Mirror:

Philippa Langley and a 300-strong team of citizen historian helpers have uncovered four key documents which she claims show the brothers, aged 12 and nine when they disappeared in 1483, were not killed but exiled. Claiming we have all fallen victim to 500 years of Tudor propaganda, she declares: "I think they weren’t murdered. I think they survived."

In a feature-length documentary she tells how each of the princes later launched failed invasions of England in a bid to take back the throne. 

The Mirror's report goes on to set out the new evidence she has amassed.

Langley's documentary, The Princes in the Tower: The New Evidence, is on Channel 4, on Saturday at 8pm.

Cardinal Wolsey is buried somewhere in Leicester - don't worry, he's not under a car park

At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester,
Lodged in the abbey, where the reverend abbot
With all his convent honorably received him;
To whom he gave these words: "O Father Abbot,
An old man, broken with the storms of state,
Is come to lay his weary bones among you.
Give him a little earth, for charity."

If the furore over the finding of Richard III ever dies down - at present there is another court case in prospect - the Leicester people could turn their attention to another historical figure who was buried in the city but whose grave is now lost.

The lines above come from Shakespeare's little-performed Henry VIII and describe the last days of Cardinal Wolsey. He had been summoned to London from York to face a charge of treason, but was taken ill on the journey. He died and was buried at Leicester Abbey.

The remains of the abbey were excavated in the 1930s and what was imagined to be its ground plan was marked out with low stone walls. They even put in a tomb for Wolsey.

I should report, though, that when the idea of searching for Wolsey was put to a leading member of the team that found Richard III, his response was: "If we did find him, Ipswich would only try to claim him."

Former University of Leicester director of communications to sue Steve Coogan over his portrayal in The Lost King

The Sun's archaeology correspondent writes:

Actor Steve Coogan is being sued over claims he portrayed a university ­academic as a “sexist bully” in a film.

Coogan, 57, co-wrote and starred in 2022’s The Lost King, about the quest to uncover the remains of ­Richard III a decade earlier.

Now a member of the Leicester University team that located his final resting place beneath a car park in the city is suing the star for defamation.

Richard Taylor said: “I’m portrayed as a bullying, ­cynical, double-crossing, devious manipulator which is bad.

“But when you add I behave in a sexist way and a way that seems to mock Richard III’s disabilities, you get into the realm of defamation.”

Mr Taylor said he tried to get changes but producers refused.

For some background on this affair, have a look at a post of mine from a year ago. It's worth following the link to British Archaeology magazine to download the pdf of Mike Pitts's full article.

Who murdered the Princes in the Tower? Nobody

Click on Millais's painting of the princes to listen to Matt Lewis's Gone Medieval podcast on their fate.

If you want a clue to the line he takes, he is the author of The Survival of the Princes in the Tower:

The murder of the Princes in the Tower is the most famous cold case in British history.

Traditionally considered victims of a ruthless uncle, there are other suspects too often and too easily discounted. There may be no definitive answer, but by delving into the context of their disappearance and the characters of the suspects Matthew Lewis examines the motives and opportunities afresh as well as asking a crucial but often overlooked question: what if there was no murder? What if Edward V and his brother Richard, Duke of York survived their uncle's reign and even that of their brother-in-law Henry VII?

There are glimpses of their possible survival and compelling evidence to give weight to those glimpses, which is considered alongside the possibility of their deaths to provide a rounded and complete assessment of the most fascinating mystery in history.

Legay: No-one

Who were the coolest band in Leicester in the late Sixties?

The consensus, I think, would be Family, but they had a rival in the shape of Legay, who later renamed themselves Gypsy.

I came across Legay in old newspapers because, like Jethro Tull, they played the Frolickin Kneecap in Market Harborough.

But Bryan Hemmings goes back a long way with the band:

Legay, later to become Gypsy, had that almost undefinable quality that most times makes the crucial difference. In a parallel universe, somewhere, things probably turned out a lot better for them. And I’m probably a successful novelist. In this universe none of us were quite so lucky. Sometimes, there are moments I feel it’s all my fault.

To my mind, they could have been one of the biggest bands in Britain. Looks, style and music, like David Bowie, they had virtually everything. All they lacked was that final, tiny bit of musical polish, and a really good producer.

Guitarist, vocalist, songwriter and founder of the band, Robin Pizer, was in my class at Syston Parochial Juniors. Apart from a small interlude, when I was committed to a school in Leicester, we attended the same schools for most of the rest of our school lives. 

Though we were never what you could call best of friends we communicated at times. We were probably also at the Infants’ school in Syston's High Street by Walker’s woodyard together.

Robin once got shamed in front of morning assembly with Billy Walker, who used to sit at the desk in front of mine. They were caught after throwing stones at a lamp outside St Peter and St Paul Church and breaking it. He was Jack the Lad personified. 

He told me his uncle was teaching him to play guitar when he was about ten. Was I jealous. Robin once dissected a stickleback in front of my eyes with a pen knife under the bridge at Syston brook, when we were nippers. He definitely made an impression, I was horrified.

We were in the same year Longslade Comprehensive School. Most of the rest of Gypsy went there too. The band was called Legay after their first drummer, Legay Rogers. Unfortunately, Legay died young. 

For a virtually unknown band outside Leicestershire, Legay had huge female following. Girls loved them. Even their roadies were sexy.

No-one, the track above, apparently reveals Legay in a more psychedelic mood than was usual for them. But it's easy to imagine it being a hit in 1969.

Robin Pizer is still around in Leicester and recorded a song about Richard III when the old boy was found in the city.

He wrote another about the Princes in the Tower, but that's a topic that merits a post of its own.

Richard III: Solving a 500-year-old cold case

Recorded in 2016, this is an enjoyable gallop through the finding of the remains of Richard III in Leicester.

Professor Turi King, as she now is, led the genetic analysis and verification after the remains had been found.

I didn't see Steve Coogan's film The Lost King, because I thought one film I knew would annoy me - See How They Run - was enough last autumn.

But in view of its thesis that Philippa Langley's contribution to the finding of Richard was suppressed by an all-male conspiracy among academics as the University of Leicester, I had better point out two things here.

First, that Langley's role as a catalyst of the dig is acknowledged.

Second, that Professor King is a woman,

Roman altar discovered beneath Leicester Cathedral

The queue to file past Richard III's coffin passes the old song school on its way to the cathedral entrance

Archaeologists excavating the site of the old song school at Leicester Cathedral have discovered what is believed to be a Roman shrine, reports the Leicester Mercury:

The cellar of a Roman building and a 1,800-year-old altar stone have been discovered during the excavation of the site where the choir would have been practised and rehearsed, led by University of Leicester Archaeological Services (Ulas), suggesting the presence of a shrine or cult room. The cellar – now nearly 10ft (3m) below the ground – is believed to have had a concrete floor and stone walls, with decorative paintwork.

The Mercury goes on to quote the leader of the dig, Matthew Morris - its story gives his age but not his first name:

"It could be really significant. It’s an area of Leicester that we don’t get to excavate very often.

"It’s the historic quarter of the town, so it’s one of those big blank areas on the map of the city. But it’s also quite fundamental in understanding the history of Leicester Cathedral.

"Whilst it’s an iconic building in the cityscape, we don’t actually know too much about its early history and most of what you see above ground today was rebuilt in the Victorian period. So an excavation next to it was really the only way we were going to get to grips with key questions, like when was it first founded, and what was underneath it before?

"There’s always been this folk tale that there was a Roman temple underneath the cathedral. Until now, there’s been no way of being able to say whether there was or not, but we’re certainly looking at, with this excavation and the discovery of this cellar and the fragment of a Roman altar stone out of it, that there is definitely a Roman place of worship underneath the cathedral.”

The dig, which has been made possible by the demolition of the song school in the second round of alterations following the internment of Richard III in the cathedral, has also found a Saxon coin and what may be signs of the first building of that period to be found in this part of the city.

And sometimes folk tales do turn out to be true. I remember reading of an old lady who grew up in a house in Friar Lane who was told as a girl that there was a king buried in the back garden. The house backed on to the site of the Franciscan friary where Richard III was found.

It's all a reminder of what a historic city Leicester is. "Where will be be buried? Presumably not in Leicester," asked Kirsty Wark after Richard was found. Be off with you, madam.