Showing posts with label Tudors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tudors. Show all posts

Sunday, 6 October 2013

In the Footsteps of Anne Boleyn.


In the Footsteps of Anne Boleyn
Sarah Morris and Natalie Grueninger
Amberley Publishing
15 September, 2013
ISBN 978-1-4456-0782-6

 

Anne Boleyn remains one of the most controversial and thought-provoking figures of Henry VIII’s court. As a sophisticated beauty, her rise to fame ruffled many feathers amongst the supporters of Catherine of Aragon and challenged the expectations of queenship. The tempestuous marriage that followed, the birth of her daughter and her shocking death at the hands of her husband, on blatantly trumped-up charges, have rightly earned her a following dedicated to studying her life and defending her name. Many good books have been published on Anne in recent years; biographies, novels and studies of the way she has been portrayed in popular culture but this is the practical guide that the Queen’s devotees have been waiting for. With Morris’s and Grueninger’s meticulous research in your hands, it is possible to step even closer to the real Anne Boleyn.

Taking a biographical approach, this book walks the reader gently through the differing locations of Anne’s life. Following the authors’ lead, it allows you to become fully immersed in what survives of the England she knew as well as recreating a sense of it in the past. Including maps and visitors’ information, it is easy to plan your own itinerary from these pages, as the authors literally tell you where to park and how far to walk, what to see and where to go next. They share their own experiences of meeting people along the way; what to see, where to eat and where to stay; and they prove to be considerate, informed and dedicated guides. Plus, the authors repeatedly go off the beaten track to explore less well known locations, beyond the usual Castles associated with Anne and Henry. Their own extensive travels give the text an immediacy and accessibility often lacking in more academic studies, all the more remarkable for Grueninger being based in Australia. Most of all, this book sings with the passion of its writers; just within the first few pages you can feel how much they both enjoyed researching and writing it.

If you can’t get to England or undertake the full Anne experience, this book also allows you to travel from the comfort of your armchair. The level of detail given of the buildings, surroundings and objects is vivid enough to be pictured, and provokes the reader to want to find out more. The very useful section on the Boleyn treasures includes websites and information about how to access these manuscripts and images; it would form an excellent basis for readers to take their enjoyment of Anne further. The authors use a wealth of primary sources to vividly recreate Anne’s world through the eyes of her contemporaries, in letters, records and accounts as well as drawing on the work of more recent historians. Plus there are two very full sections of images, many previously unpublished, from the authors’ own collections. It is usefully divided into small sections, with easily navigable headings, making it an ideal book to dip in and out of, a veritable Aladdin’s cave of gems about Anne. I particularly enjoyed the section about the progress of 1535, as an area often explored in less detail.

It is hard to find anything new on Anne these days, however In the Footsteps of Anne Boleyn fills a definite gap in the market. It provides the reader with a different kind of Anne experience, facilitating a greater sense of ownership of the Queen and her life, making more of a direct personal connection between reader and subject. And you couldn’t hope for better guides than Morris and Grueninger. If you have any interest in Anne Boleyn at all, you will not regret buying this stunning new book.

 


If you enjoyed In the Footsteps of Anne Boleyn, you may also enjoy these other new additions:

The Anne Boleyn Papers
Elizabeth Norton
Amberley, August 2013

The Anne Boleyn Collection II: Anne Boleyn and the Boleyn Family.
 Claire Ridgeway
Createspace, September 2013

The Creation of Anne Boleyn.
Susan Bordo
UK edition, Oneworld, January 2014

 

Friday, 1 February 2013

Elizabeth of York, the Forthcoming Biography: Interview with Amy Licence


To coincide with the publication of “Elizabeth of York; The Forgotten Tudor Queen,” later this month, I invited questions about my biography, my views and anything else relating to my work. Thank you for all the replies on the blog and facebook page; the responses show just how much interest and knowledge there already is out there about this fascinating lady. I think if I were to try and answer all of them in as much detail as they deserve, I would end up rewriting my book here on the blog. So, I’m not giving everything away but here is a taster of what to expect in the biography- I hope it whets your appetite. If you don’t see your question exactly as you wrote it, it’s because I’ve combined questions whenever I’ve had several that are similar.

                                       Elizabeth, by Victorian Artist Edward Corbould 

Why Elizabeth of York?

I’ve always been interested in Elizabeth; I think it stemmed from my initial fascination with her children. If you’ve read about the lives of Henry, Margaret and Mary Tudor, it seems logical to want to explore their childhoods and the relationships they had with their parents. The children, particularly Henry, were so colourful and charismatic; they had such a vitality and majesty in everything they did, yet tradition had often presented their parents as quieter, cautious and understated figures. I thought this was, in part, due to their overshadowing by the next generation in modern popular works and perhaps due to the infancy of their dynasty. Both were survivors and throughout Henry VII’s reign, there was no guarantee that the turbulent decades of their own youth were over. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Often, I see authors drawing an imaginary line in the sand in 1485 (or 1487) and almost breathing a sigh of relief but this was by no means a given at the time and I wonder how much their descendants’ inimitable style and self-fashioning was borne out of this early insecurity. Also, when I read the primary sources about Elizabeth’s life and death, I was struck by just how popular she was and by the hints of scandal associated with her name, so I wanted to find out more. I was keen to move slightly away from the traditional biography style; on one level, this is a narrative of the events of her life, but I’ve also taken a thematic approach. I wanted to use Elizabeth to explore fifteenth century ideals of queenship and judge what model she chose.

Why does the book’s subtitle refer to her as a “forgotten” Queen?

Elizabeth is one of the least well known Tudor Queens. Henry VIII’s wives and daughters have received a lot of attention, of the popular and academic kind and, in comparison, Elizabeth is less well known. Even in studies that explore the establishment of the Tudor dynasty, she is something of a two-dimensional figure, a foot note or appendage in the story of Henry VII. I have read a lot of books that simply repeat the same old “facts” about her lineage and marriage but I still struggled to form a rounded picture of her in my mind. Elizabeth’s problem is that she is such a convenient foil for other people; she’s always presented as someone else’s daughter, wife or mother, rarely just herself. Her image also obscures her; the long-standing mask of her demure beauty and goodness has reduced her to something of a stereotype and it is only recently that writers have started to challenge this. After all, this was a real woman, with real emotions, who lived a passionate and turbulent life. I wanted to try and dig her out of history’s margins and put her back in the centre of the stage.

                          Margaret Beaufort, Elizabeth's devout and formidable mother-in-law 

 What was her relationship with her mother-in-law Margaret Beaufort like? Were they generally close? Did Margaret Beaufort resent her for having so much royal blood or being from the House of York?
 This is a tricky one, because I think that today, we might judge relationships to be successful according to different criteria than the Tudors. I do feel that Margaret’s character has been massaged over the centuries into something of a harridan. A few assumptions made by distant observers, like foreign ambassadors, have been taken as gospel, like that Elizabeth was overshadowed by Margaret, but these are only assumptions. Likewise, records of Margaret walking just a pace behind the Queen and supposedly jostling with her for precedence only reinforce what would have been the correct courtly protocol. Margaret’s claim to the throne was as good as Elizabeth’s and they did often appear in tandem to reflect this. Only one person knew how Elizabeth really felt about Margaret and she did not commit it to paper. If we look at what we can deduce about the King’s mother, she was clearly a dynamic, formidable, determined and energetic lady; just the sort of woman you would want to have on your side. If Elizabeth did find her at all “overbearing”- and this is a modern reaction- she may well have accepted that, as it was balanced by the assistance Margaret was able to offer. Having an experienced older woman at her side, particularly when she pregnant or in Henry’s absence, may well have been reassuring. As for being “close,” again, this is subjective and perhaps, a bit of a misnomer; in terms of the late medieval impulse for survival and the need to forge alliances, Elizabeth and Margaret found a sort of equilibrium that allowed them to be allies. I think their mutual interest bound them together. Elizabeth was married to Margaret’s son. She would have been pragmatic and wise enough to overcome any “dislike” she felt for her daughter-in-law’s Yorkist roots. After all, Margaret’s marital history had necessitated a good deal of diplomacy and “getting into bed with” the enemy. It does seem that particularly for the women of the era, personal alliances could overcome family loyalty, such as with Elizabeth Wydeville, who married a Lancastrian, then a Yorkist King.


 What was the relationship between her Elizabeth and her mother? How did she cope with being separated from her?
From what I can deduce, Edward IV and Elizabeth Wydeville appear to have been loving parents and their children were close, having been raised together at Greenwich. They eldest three girls shared their mother’s sanctuary in 1470, when she gave birth in conditions of comparative deprivation and fear, which may have united them through shared sufferings. Later, in 1483, their flight again brought them together through a difficult time and I suspect, Elizabeth as the eldest had been her mother’s support at this time. The Princesses leaving their mother behind in sanctuary in March 1484 certainly constituted a significant separation but it was politically and personally expedient to all concerned. They coped with this because they had to, there wasn’t a lot of choice so I can only guess that they just tried to put it out of their minds and carry on.

                        A copy of the 1538 Whitehall Mural, commissioned by Henry VIII,
                                          featuring himself, Jane Seymour and his parents


Was there any kind of rift between mother and daughter when Elizabeth was married to Henry Tudor and crowned Queen? From what I've read, Elizabeth kept in close contact with the rest of her family, but not a lot of contact with her mother is recorded. Do you think Elizabeth Woodville was involved in any of the Yorkists plots after Bosworth and as a result her daughter stayed away from her?
 From looking at the evidence I don’t think there was a rift. Also, the processes by which such material is recorded and its survival over 500 years means that absence of evidence can’t be taken as evidence itself. Elizabeth Wydeville had worked for the match with Henry; she had no reason to fall out with her daughter about it. Even if she believed one of her sons had survived, I’m not sure she would have taken the risk to plot against the new regime. Henry VII may have privately distrusted her but he referred to her as his “beloved” mother-in-law and wanted her and Elizabeth with him before the Battle of Stoke. I remain to be convinced that Elizabeth would have schemed against her daughter and grandchildren. The York-Tudor marriage was the best possible outcome for her and to jeopardise this would have been foolish. Her stay in Bermondsey Abbey, between 1487-1492, and the reduction of her income, has been interpreted as a form of imprisonment but what if it was done voluntarily, even willingly? At fifty, Elizabeth Wydeville had lived a turbulent life; been widowed twice, outlived many of her children, feared for her life, fled into sanctuary and seen the wheel of fortune turn through many cycles. She had been a devout Catholic all her life and may have been ill in her final years. Perhaps she chose to retire and spend her years in contemplation, as many widows of the era did, recognising that she had achieved all she could and happy that her daughter was now on the throne. Not a lot of contact with her daughter is recorded, yet Bermondsey Abbey stood just over the Thames from the Tower, hardly any great distance away. I’ve not yet seen any evidence to support an estrangement but I am always open to new material. I have a lot more to say in the book about Elizabeth Wydeville’s reputation and the judgements made by historians about her character.

                                      The earliest surviving portrait of Richard III c1520,
                                                         a copy of a lost original

What do you think about the supposed relationship between Elizabeth of York and Richard III?
Without giving too much away here, I will just say that there are two sources that I think need to be re-evaluated. Quite a lot of theories have been built on very slender evidence, which is fine for historical fiction and helps bring the characters and the times to life. And, after all, when evidence is lacking, imagination and empathy have to fill the gap. When aiming at strict factual accuracy, though, I think the historian can only look at what is known rather than trying to interpret sources according to how these individuals “may have felt.”  Equally, this can’t be ruled out automatically just because it is offensive or incomprehensible to the “modern mind”, if such a universal concept exists! It does appear that some of Richard and Elizabeth’s contemporaries believed in his intention to marry his niece and weren’t happy about it: twelve doctors of divinity were summoned by Parliament in order to put forward their objections and Richard later issued a complete public denial that this had ever been his intention. However, as with all these figures, the gulf between the public persona and the private sentiment can only be guessed at.

                                       Henry Tudor, whom Elizabeth married in January 1486
 

Was she ever really in love with Richard III or Henry Tudor?
I don’t know if Elizabeth’s position allowed her the luxury of love. While there are many notable exceptions, particularly her own parents and son, the companionate marriage was a later phenomenon and duty often had to override personal inclination. I’m not denying Elizabeth’s humanity or capacity for love but maybe she approached these men in a different way. What constitutes love? It may be as different for individuals then as it is today. Perhaps part of these men’s attraction lay in the role and status they could offer: they had the whole package, including the crown. This doesn’t mean Elizabeth was mercenary but that she made shrewd alliances which were appropriate to her own status. From what I’ve read, I believe her marriage with Henry was a successful one, with them working in a partnership and being united at time of danger and grief. Her pulse may not have raced when he came into the room but their mutual goals kept them close; what was good for one was good for the other. Henry’s reaction to Elizabeth’s death also suggests genuine grief.

Do you think Elizabeth was forbidden from seeing Perkin Warbeck, as is often claimed, or whether she chose not to see him?
I have often pictured Elizabeth taking a sneaky peek out of a window at Sheen Palace in 1497 to get a glimpse of Perkin! I think the answer to this depends upon what she knew about the fates of her brothers. If she had incontrovertible evidence of their deaths, she may have chosen not to see him. If there was any doubt in her mind about their survival, I think she would have tried to have a look at this young man who claimed to be her close relation. His activities may have stirred up past grief but with so many deaths and losses in her life, I don’t think it would have necearily destabilized her to see him. The notion of Henry forbidding Elizabeth to see Perkin doesn’t sit comfortably with the impression I have formed of their marriage. Do we know for certain that she never saw him, at any time? He seems to have been quite publicly paraded about.

                                                        Bust of Henry VIII as a child

I've watched the BBC miniseries, "The Shadows of the Tower" which covers the reign of Henry VII. In the episode when Elizabeth gives birth to Prince Arthur, Margaret Tudor and Henry repeatedly fret about Elizabeth being "delicate". Alternatively, I've heard about her becoming increasingly sick after increasingly difficult pregnancies. Is there any truth to this? I consider this quite interesting in light of the fact that Henry VIII supposedly inherited his height and athleticism from her side of the family.
 Elizabeth bore seven (possibly eight) children over a period of eighteen years and died as a result of her last live birth. There does not seem to be much evidence to suggest she was “delicate” before her marriage and her first pregnancy and delivery in 1486 appear to have been straightforward. However, she did suffer from an “ague” or fever, afterwards, which delayed her churching. She did not conceive again, so far as we know, for two and a half years. Perhaps this was the couple being cautious regarding her health or complications that arose as a result.
Concern emerged again in 1500, when she was pregnant with Edmund, although the nature of this is unknown and may have related to her advancing age. The more children a woman bore, the greater the risk of experiencing some sort of complication and the more severe the toll on her body, which was not getting any younger. At least two of her babies were born close together, with Elizabeth conceived only 3 months after she had borne Henry in 1491, so her body can hardly have had much chance to recover before the process began all over again. While the demands of childbirth clearly left their mark, with one foreign ambassador remarking that by 1501 she had become a little stout, I would be inclined to place her experiences within the “normal” bracket for women of the time. It would be more unusual if she had seen through seven confirmed pregnancies through to term and not had some sort of difficulties.
 Something clearly went wrong with her last birth, though. Her death in 1503, over a week after bearing Katherine, suggests a postpartum infection, but her labour started early, catching her by surprise while she was at the Tower, where she had not intended to deliver. When something went badly wrong, as it clearly did in 1503, the midwives did not have the skill or knowledge to save her.

Yes, Henry VIII was reputed to look like Edward IV but of course these things can skip a generation and the transference of genes is notoriously complex. We do know that, later in life, Henry referred to his mother’s death as a tragedy and her influence was undoubtedly missed.
 
  
                               The tomb of Henry VII and Elizabeth, in Westminster by Torrigiano
 

Do you think Elizabeth was forced or chose to be "apolitical" Queen Consort?
Elizabeth would have been aware of three models of queenship before her own succession. Margaret of Anjou was generally distrusted as being “warlike” and aggressive, Elizabeth Wydeville for haughtiness and nepotism, while Anne Neville’s lack of fecundity could have led to problems. (These are summaries of “common fame” rather than my view of them.) Henry was very keen to stress that his claim to the throne was independent of his marriage and did not require Elizabeth’s validation, so I don’t think he would have welcomed her taking a public role in politics. I think Elizabeth very wisely followed the model of Queenship put forward in some fifteenth century texts that we know she had access to, like Christine de Pisan and Caxton’s A Game of Chess. These advocated an ideal queen whose sphere of influence was more domestic or behind the scenes. Elizabeth’s influence over Henry was of a personal nature, as a helpmeet and confidant, and through the charitable and religious offices of her household. She was a softer, more accessible side of queenship, a maternal figure who was sympathetic to supplicants and balanced the “war-like” masculine component of government. I think this was a very sensible decision that suited them both.
                                Elizabeth's wooden funeral effigy which topped her coffin in 1503

 
How do you cope with motherhood and writing, do you have a routine?
It's a wonderful achievement to have three books published within one year! How many months/years have you worked on each and how many hours a week?

Thank you. I can’t say it has been easy! When I wrote In Bed with the Tudors, I was pregnant, had a toddler running round me and hadn’t had an unbroken night’s sleep in almost three years! Then, I gave birth in the middle of writing Elizabeth of York, the Forgotten Tudor Queen. The funny thing is though, this actually helped focus me. Before I had my children, when I had more time to write and research, I was less disciplined about it. Now that I had my sons’ needs to see to and impending deadlines, I had to extract every minute I could and make the most of it. I often stay up to write after they are in bed and my husband is very supportive, looking after our eldest son, so it is easier for me to get some work done. It’s hard sometimes to balance it all but we do make sure we got quality family time together whenever we can. I don’t follow a pattern or set hours of work, I just do whatever I can whenever I can. I do believe in the notion that “the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step” and have treated each day as a single step, completing one paragraph here and another there, whenever and wherever! I have produced three books in a relatively short space of time but they are the culmination of years of reading and research. I did my MA in 1995-6 and have carried on reading and studying independently since then. I consider myself to be a continuing student of history and try to approach the past with an open mind and no particular agenda beyond my own interest. I am always open to persuasion and new sources or interpretations.

I have also received a number of questions relating to Anne Neville, but as this has turned into a bit of an epic post, I will hold on to them and do a separate question and answer session prior to the release of my biography on her, this April.

Thank you to Susan Abernethy, Susan Higginbotham, Suzanne Israel Tufts, Geoff Licence, Sylwia S Zupanec, Debra Al-Bayani and Anonymous for your interesting and well informed questions.



 

Sunday, 11 November 2012

Saturday, 20 October 2012

The King on Display ? It Remains to be Seen.


                  The Chiddingly Boar- Richard III's personal device, which helped archaeologists
                                                      locate Bosworth Field in 1999

 
  Leicester University archaeologists who recently uncovered what may prove to be the bones of Richard III, have taken the decision not to put them on display. For some, this will come as a relief, whilst others will be pushing for the remains to be photographed, filmed and ultimately put on display. In a press release of September 12, leaders of the dig confirmed the discovery of a well preserved male skeleton, displaying trauma consistent with a violent death on the battlefield.  The last Yorkist King’s valiant stand at Bosworth has become the stuff of literature and legend: more than five centuries later, the unearthing of his skeleton promises to prove deeply controversial.

Unfolding coverage of the site has generated huge excitement since the choir of the Grey Friars church was first located in August, consistent with the site of chronicler John Rous’ description of the King’s burial. All the signs look good. The bones have now been removed from their resting place and transported to the laboratories of Leicester University. While their delicate work continues, DNA evidence will not be available until at least December, some time after which, their identity will finally be confirmed. Predictably, there is huge interest in the findings. Various images of the dig have been published, including those of the press crowding around men dressed in late medieval armour. It is also possible to view online galleries containing other finds, such as tiles and pieces of masonry and to visit the site on heritage open days. The closest the public can get to the bones though, is to view the scraped-out hole where they were found, which now lies empty. Richard III is still missing in action.
 
                                           Site of the Grey Friars excavations in Leicester

 It's not as if the public have not seen human remains before. Regular viewers of popular archaeological and historical television programmes like Channel Four’s “Time Team” are used to seeing various skeletal remains being unearthed, removed and examined in situ. We see fragments of skulls, finger bones and pelvises gently lifted out and shown the consideration and respect by those involved. After all, as these popular archaeologists are quick to establish, these were real people, whose burials were carried out according to the religious sensibilities of the day. Their wishes must be respected. Such programmes also make clear that if there is any doubt regarding the dating of human remains, the local constabulary need to be informed.

This media exposure may be partly responsible for the frustration arising from Leicester University's decision. Their explanation, of the department’s policy of respect due to any burial regardless of identity, is unambiguous and understandable. It is in line with the best archaeological practise as outlined in a 2005 English heritage report. However, the issue does raise further questions regarding the morality and ethics of the handling of human remains and the question of public interest. For some, it seems to be a thorny issue as to whether bones which have been exposed, dismantled and physically removed from their grave, could be violated further by the taking of photographs. Does it make any difference to a dead man's bones, or his soul (consistent with his religious beliefs) if his image is captured in this way?
                    Late medieval reliquary made to hold a reputed tooth of St John the Baptist 

 One of the ironies is that in Richard III’s day, the skeletal remains and other artefacts of saints, such as hair, toe nail clippings and clothing, were widely displayed in churches and shrines. The authenticity of these highly prized items was called into question during the Reformation but for a late medieval Catholic, like Richard, they were invaluable for their devotional and healing properties. Richard would have seen and possibly handled such relics with great reverence. Of course, no one is suggesting that his body be made available for the masses to touch but its display would be well within a tradition he would understand. There is also the question of audience. In medieval times, a pilgrim may make a special journey, often hundreds of miles, specifically to see such an item. These days, pictures can be splashed all over the internet, world wide, in seconds. People are free to respond to them as they chose, in the safety of their own homes, rather than showing the proper respect that a tomb or shrine could command. So where should the line be drawn for the modern media?

Museum displays of locks of the hair of historical figures regularly attract interest but sometimes invoke a shudder of repulsion. Some people find it ghoulish to have these preserved. The hair of Mary Tudor and Katherine Parr, which has been kept inside lockets, may be of legitimate interest to students of the Tudor period, interested to verify written sources of those women’s appearances. However, given the Victorian passion for using hair in mourning jewellery, would those students be as comfortable with bracelets or even whole pictures made from woven human hair? How about hair pieces and wigs that use the locks of impoverished or dead girls? There does seem to be a subtle distinction in the use of the hair, depending upon whether it is displayed simply as a memorial piece, or if its purpose has been adapted to create a piece of art. Perhaps this is the line of sensibility where some people may find its use unacceptable. But then hair is dead. It can be cut from the body during life without causing harm.
                                     The hair of Mary Tudor, Henry VIII's younger sister.
 
                                The hair of Katherine Parr, Henry VIII's sixth wife.

The ethics of displaying human remains have been pushed to the limit in the twenty first century. The Florida based “Bodies…the Exhibition,” which opened in 2005, caused much controversy by displaying real cadavers preserved by a rubberisation process discovered in the 1970s. Gunter von Hagens, the German anatomist behind the discovery, has been openly criticised for performing autopsies in public, such as the one in a London theatre in 2002. His “Body Worlds” exhibition, using rubberised corpses, met with significant legal challenges before and after it was shown in Manchester. Some people found it fascinating, considering it educative, while others were repelled and insulted. It is futile to reopen the old question of whether or not this is art. Art is whatever the artist or viewer perceives it to be and can be debated ad infinitum. What is important to remember, is that these people had given their consent. That may also be a defining factor: Richard has not consented to the exhumation and analysis of his bones. Yet there is no way he could possibly have anticipated these events, let alone the nature of the world, five centuries after his death.

                                              Victorian designs for mourning jewellery

                                              Modern hair jewellery- beautiful or odd?

 One example may highlight that the time scale is also a factor here. Think of the cases of Egyptian mummies in the British museum , which many consider to be acceptable family viewing, fascinating to see in all their glory. This may be because the robbery and destruction of their graves happened in the past and the damage has already been done. They are less connected with us, distanced by time and culture, whereas Richard is still a vivid part of English culture and subject to impassioned debate. Inevitably, his remains are rendered more controversial due to their royal status; after all, the Queen has refused permission for the reopening of the Westminster Abbey urn reported to contain the remains of the Princes in the Tower, discovered in the late seventeenth century.

Also, there is the question of whether we need to see these bones ? Or is it just that we want to ? After all, bones are just bones, aren’t they ? Actually, no. Not in this case, when they may provide critical visual evidence regarding the possible curvature of the King’s spine and manner of his death. Of course, we trust the archaeologists to make a full and truthful report of their findings but if books on the Princes in the Tower can include photographs of the skull of the nine-year-old Anne de Mowbray, wife of Prince Richard of York, can we not also expect these bones to be photographed for future publications ? There is nothing so inspiring for the student of history to get up close and personal with the past: such connections bring home the humanity of distant figures and rightly or wrongly, give the observer a thrill of association. Some may call this ghoulish, others may see it as legitimate interest.  Whilst it will be impossible to exclude those whose interest is purely voyeuristic, this must be balanced against genuine scientific education and archaeological ethics. If the bones are ever photographed or put on display, it must be done so with the respect and consideration that Richard's beliefs and rank deserve.
                         The skull of Anne de Mowbray, often featured in C15th history books

 While the decision taken by Leicester University not to make images of their discoveries public may disappoint, it is overshadowed by the larger question of the bones’ identity. The countdown to the DNA results and the passionate debates surrounding their reinterment has somewhat distracted focus from this issue. There is without doubt a valid educational reason for the remains to be seen but the employment of a children’s illustrator-style artist to recreate the scenes seems a little patronising. The Richard III society has, in the past few days, rightly given the Grey Friars excavation its Robert Hamblin Award for work of outstanding service. Open days, free to the public, have allowed those interested to view the proceedings and regular press updates have kept this story in the public eye. It only remains to be seen now what the outcome of the DNA test will be and how the bones, whoever they may be, are finally laid to rest.