Shakespeare’s
dramatic version of Richard III's story was not the only one produced at the end of the
Sixteenth Century. Nor was it the first. However, it is the one that has lasted,
while the existence of others has been forgotten. Why?
Richard
III’s reputation and appearance have dominated the press since the discovery of
his remains was confirmed by Leicester University on 4 February this year. The world had been eagerly anticipating the DNA
results, which would prove his identity, but the skeleton yielded some
further unexpected and dramatic evidence. It seems that Richard may not have been too
far removed from the “hunchback” that centuries of his supporters had been
trying to deny. His spine displayed clear signs of idiopathic adolescent-onset
scoliosis, which would have reduced his height and possibly given him
protruding ribs on one side, while the comparison drawn between each end of his
clavicle indicated that the right was more worn than the left. It is probable that one of his shoulders
was, in fact, higher, although this would not necessarily have been
visible under clothing. This is precisely the sort of detail that loyal subjects would have ignored during life and enemies exaggerated after his death. With sixteenth century accounts using the politically
incorrect terms “hunch-back” “cripple” and “deformed” interchangeably, before the
recognition of scoliosis as a condition, the age-old literary stereotype of
Richard’s appearance was confirmed by the discovery of his bones.
Shakespeare’s
vision of Richard was drawn from a number of sources. The earliest and most extreme
descriptions are to be found in the second Rous Roll, (1491) by the Neville
family chronicler, John Rous. These included the legend of the King's supposed two year
gestation, a physical impossibility, and his arrival with a full set of teeth. However, Rous’s first version
of the history, presented to Richard’s wife, Queen Anne, in 1484, contained
nothing but fulsome praise. Later, he was unable to access it after the advent of
the Tudors, so produced a second, condemnatory work in the possible
belief that Richard had poisoned his wife, Rous' patroness, Anne Neville. Thomas More further exaggerated the legends of deformity, when writing between 1512 and
1519, adding in details of Richard's “breech-birth” and “hard-faced” appearance. More
may have been a mere child when Richard was King, being born in 1478, but he did
spend the years 1490 to 1492 as a page in the household of John Morton,
Archbishop of Canterbury, who had known Richard throughout his life and was a supporter of Margaret of Anjou. More’s
version of events formed the basis of later histories by Vergil, Hall and
Holinshed, which Shakespeare used as his sources. The majority of seventeenth
century depictions of Richard conform to this presentation of the King as a
villain whose moral turpitude was correlative with his misshapen body. It was
not until the eighteenth century, when writers and historians began their
reassessment of Richard’s reputation and appearance, with Prime Minister,
Horace Walpole, Jane Austen and poet laureate Colley Cibber presenting him in
a more favourable light.
David Garrick as Richard III, 1745, by Hogarth
However,
the existence of two pre-Shakespearean plays depicting Richard’s story have
hitherto been overlooked outside academic circles. The nineteenth century
editors of the anonymous “The True Tragedie of Richard III” suggested that
Shakespeare must have seen this earlier version and possibly also, the Latin
“Richardus Tertius” by Thomas Legge (1535-1607). Legge’s play was composed
while he was master of Caius College, Cambridge, and performed at St John’s in
1579 and 1583. It is quite possible that the young Christopher Marlowe, who was
awarded his BA degree in 1584, also saw these productions or subsequent ones,
along with fellow dramatist Thomas Nashe, who is thought to have been in the
audience. It is unclear though, whether this play was enacted outside
university circles and was actually seen by Shakespeare, or if their
overlap is explained by their mutual sources. “Richardus Tertius” was written
over a decade before Shakespeare’s play and prepared for publication in 1582/3
but never printed. It portrays Richard
as a complex man, although he is still “evil” but interestingly, features no
physical deformities. The account is very close to More and Hall’s versions of
events with little new material; there are rumours of his wife Anne’s death
before her demise and like Shakespeare, the playwright intimates that she was
poisoned. Richard goes on to woo his niece Elizabeth of York but she refuses
him.
St John's College, Cambridge, where Legge's Richardus Tertius was performed in 1579 and 1583
The
other play, “The True Tragedie of Richard III” was performed “often” even
though its later editors considered it to be a “humble work” which uses some
“corrupt Latin” and a “bad,” ie. poorly crafted, play. It does seem from
several references, particularly the scene prior to the deaths of the two
Princes in 1483, that the unknown author had read More’s history and perhaps
others. The King in this early play calls for “a horse, a fresh horse,” in
comparison with the more famous “a horse, a horse, my Kingdom for a horse!” The
surviving manuscript of “The True Tragedie of Richard III” dates from 1594 but
the play was written and produced several years before. It reputes the deaths
of Henry VI and George, Duke of Clarence to Richard, who is depicted according
to More’s tradition, as ill-shaped, crook backed and lame-armed. Interestingly,
this play makes frequent use of the voices of witnesses and citizens, giving a
sense of public feeling. One citizen speaks up for Richard, saying that before
he was King, there were “no men, no laws, no Princes, no orders” and recalling
“what fraies had we in the streets” before Richard’s peace with England and
Scotland. A key narrative role is taken by the King’s page, who tells Richard
that there is “murmur” in the streets among the people of the “baser” sort, one
of whom, an innkeeper calls the King “the worst guest” who ever came to his
house. A serving man, Morton, informs us that Richard has named John, Earl of
Lincoln, his nephew, his heir and relates that Richard and Buckingham have
fallen out. Much of the story is put into the mouths of witnesses, which
perhaps reflects the author’s awareness of the nature of oral history and his
own use of common beliefs and myths. However, this lessens the dramatic impact, as important action takes place off stage. Richard’s wife Anne is not mentioned, nor
is his son; we only see Richard pressing his suit to Elizabeth of York, in a similar way to a 1614 poem "The Ghost of Richard III". At the end, after Henry
Tudor has been victorious on Bosworth Field, Richard’s body is drawn stark
naked through the streets of Leicester on a collier’s horse, reminiscent of the
findings of Leicester University regarding the opportunistic, humiliation
wounds inflicted on his body after death.
William Shakespeare, who wrote his version of Richard's story in 1591/2
When Shakespeare came to write his version of
Richard’s story, he had a variety of sources to draw on. Apart from the
expected More, Hall and Holinshed though, his play was written within what
appears to have been a surge of interest in the King’s reign in the late 1580s
and early 90s. This period also saw the composition of other plays dealing with
the usurpation of power, like Marlowe’s Edward II, the anonymous Edmund
Ironside and Peele’s Edward I. The publication of Holinshed’s 1587 chronicle
provided them with a wealth of historical narratives to choose from. Shakespeare
may have seen, or even acted in, one of the extant versions of Richard’s
tragedy and decided that he could improve on the story. Christopher Marlowe’s
Edward II was believed to have been influenced by it and must have been a
fairly immediate response, as Marlowe died in 1593. However, the timing would
not necessarily be so tight if Marlowe had witnessed the performance of Legge’s
play at Cambridge in 1579 or 1583. The diary of Philip Henslowe for December
1593 and January 1594 records the performance of a popular play called
“Buckingham” which may have been an early version of Shakespeare’s "Richard III".
The depictions of Richard in popular culture, a century after his death, did
continue the negative portrayal of the King that had begun soon after Bosworth. What does seem surprising though, is the sheer amount of interest, even
then, given the existence of these additional plays. Shakespeare was not being
original when he wrote his version of the story. Yet, originality was not his
intention, entertainment was. He saw a good story, which he could make his own,
and improved on the attempts of existing dramatists, less skilled than himself.
It is because of his superior abilities as a dramatist, rather than any
historical insight, that his version has shaped modern popular concepts of the
King, while others have been forgotten.
Wonderful post Amy!
ReplyDeleteThank you Debra, kind as ever :)
DeleteI really enjoyed this post.
ReplyDeleteI admit I am guilty of glossing over the hunchback claims. I think that because I have a friend who has quite a severe case of scoliosis, and my other half's sister has a mild form that I have always been highly sensitive and protective about the subject as it didn't stop them being completely able. Richard's spine is not too dissimilar from my friends, and you wouldn't know unless you saw her naked.
It was so difficult to see him laid out there, curved spine and all. But I think many people like me can take comfort that they wouldn't have just said he was more than capable on the field of battle. If anything, it endears him more to me.
I've never thought much to Shakespeare's portrayal, creative license at it's best perhaps? And as much as I respect Thomas More, even he wasn't free from bias in my opinion.
Great, informative post!
Poppy Coburn
Thanks for commenting Poppy and for sharing your experiences of scoliosis; you have a better idea than most of how well he would have been able to conceal it and carry on.
DeleteI don't think anyone is totally free from bias- even with the best intentions. More absorbed Morton's version of events, and bearing in mind that Morton was arrested along with Hastings in 1483 and was lucky to survive that summer, it is no surprise that More has an anti-Richard approach. I love tracing the "after lives" of historical figures- seeing how their reputations are evaluated by later historians and distorted in literary depictions. Subsequent generations appropriate them for their own agendas- it's fascinating. Glad you enjoyed it.
excellent post - really enjoyed your article in new statesman, too. apropos of the latter, i really wish the bones in westminster abbey could be dna-analysed and radio-carbon dated. the last examination of them was ludicrously biased, and without better proof i can't buy them as richard's nephews - they could easily pre-date the tower of london!
ReplyDeleteHi Helen, thanks for your interest and kind words. Yes, the urn of bones is something of a white elephant in the Abbey- if permission was granted, we would be able to ascertain their identity as the 1930s results weren't particularly helpful, raising more issues than they answered. It would be good if the Princes could be identified and given a proper burial as well as dispelling some of the "pretender to the throne theories" and giving closure on the Perkin Warbeck debate. I honestly don't think this will happen though; I read somewhere that the their examination might ignite a flurry of tomb openings but this is a very specific case and with recent scientific advances, it is highly frustrating that the answers could so easily be in our hands. I wonder whether Charles will stick to the same line when he becomes king.
ReplyDeleteHelen- just spent a happy half hour browsing your blog. I'm looking forward to seeing some of your rants pop up in my in tray :)
ReplyDelete