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Amanda Hale, Aneurin Bernard, BBC, Bosworth Field, Edward V, Elizabeth Woodville, Kings and Queens, Margaret Beaufort, Medieval England, Medieval Europe, Military Stuff, Richard III, The Princes in the Tower, The White Queen
The last three episodes of The White Queen deal with Richard III’s seizure of power after his brother Edward IV dies in 1483. This portion of the series definitely falls on the ‘Yet So Far’ side of this series, and I figured it deserved a post of its own.
The show’s take on Richard is an interesting one. Shakespeare and the Tudors in general depicted him as a scheming villain who would stop at nothing to get the crown. But this Richard (Aneurin Bernard) is a basically decent man, who remains loyal to his brother until late in Edward’s reign, when frustrations with some of Edward’s choices and growing tensions with the Woodvilles lead him into betraying his nephew Edward. His wife Anne (Faye Marsay) hates Queen Elizabeth (Rebecca Ferguson) and thinks she is a literal witch who caused the death of Anne’s sister Isabel, and she urges her husband to take action against the Woodvilles. And while Richard and Elizabeth sincerely try to find a way to trust each other, Margaret Beaufort (Amanda Hale) and her husband Lord Stanley (Rupert Graves) actively lie to both sides to encourage distrust between them so that Margaret’s son Henry Tudor (Michael Marcus) can take the throne. So this Richard is a decent man simply unable to find a way to make peace and must therefore do evil instead.

Bernard’s Richard in a very snappy outfit
The reality was somewhat more complex than that. The later 15th century was a harsh period politically. Over the previous century and a half, two kings were usurped (Edward II and Richard II), there were two royal minorities (Richard II and Henry VI) and one disastrously incompetent king (Henry VI); all of that made the power of the crown more unstable than it had been in the 12th or 13th century. At the same time, the wars in France had made several noble families far richer than in previous centuries, closing the gap between the monarch and his most powerful subjects. Parliament did not yet have institutional structures to enable it to resist the pressure of aggressive kings and nobles, and the law courts easily succumbed to pressure from nobles to give highly biased rulings. All that meant that politics during the last decades of the Plantagenet dynasty were characterized by a certain dog-eat-dog ruthlessness. In the 1470s, George of Clarence and Richard (who had married sisters) were eager to get their hands on the fortune of their mother-in-law, the Dowager Countess of Warwick, so they prevailed upon Edward and Parliament to have the countess declared legally dead so their wives could inherit her estates, despite the unfortunate woman being very much alive and in evidence.
Richard did not get along well with the Woodvilles during his brother’s reign. Like many other nobles, he resented them grabbing up marriage partners and important offices, and the Woodvilles likewise disliked him, at least in part because by the end of the reign, he was next in line should anything happen to Edward’s children.
When Edward died unexpectedly, leaving behind his 11-year old son Edward as his heir, it necessitated the appointment of a regent to govern for him for several years. Richard became Lord Protector, a title invented for his father the duke of York during Henry VI’s mental incapacity. That automatically created tension between the Dowager Queen Elizabeth, who as mother of the king could be expected to have a great deal of influence with young Edward, and Richard, who as Lord Protector was now the most important official in the country. For Richard, this created a dilemma. He might be politically ascendant for the next few years, but Elizabeth’s influence over Edward meant that the young king would probably absorb his mother’s dislike for Richard. Eventually, Edward would be old enough to assume power, and at that point he was likely to be hostile to Richard.
So Richard was in a bad position. It was probably just a matter of time before the Woodvilles found a way to use the young king against Richard, perhaps stripping him of his offices and honors, and perhaps even finding an excuse to execute him. It was either do or be done to eventually, and Richard decided to do.

Richard III’s skeleton shows he really did have a deformed spine
Right after the old Edward’s death, Richard intercepted young Edward’s maternal uncle, Earl Rivers, who was escorting their nephew to London. He arrested Rivers and took charge of the young king, claiming that there was a plot to deprive Richard his role as Lord Protector. Whether there was any truth to his claim is unknown, but it’s not entirely implausible. He had installed Edward in the Tower of London. The Dowager Queen took all her remaining children and sought sanctuary in Westminster Abbey. But several days later, she agreed to release her youngest son Richard (Edward’s full brother) to the Lord Protector in order to participate in Edward’s coronation, which was supposed to happen on June 22nd.
Robert Stillington, bishop of Bath and Wells (but not the baby-eating one), told Richard that he had performed a marriage ceremony for Edward to a different woman prior to his marriage to Elizabeth Woodville, which meant that his marriage to Elizabeth was bigamous and therefore invalid, which in turn meant that young Edward and Richard were illegitimate and the Lord Protector was therefore the rightful king. Whether Stillington had any evidence to support this claim or if he was just giving Richard cover for what he had decided to do is unknown; given Edward’s amorousness, the claim is certainly not impossible, but most historians feel Stillington was lying.
Regardless, this gave Richard the ammunition he needed. On the 22nd, instead of a coronation, a sermon was preached outside Old St. Paul’s circulating Stllington’s claim and declaring the two boys bastards. On June 25th, Earl Rivers was found guilty of treason and executed and the next day Richard publicly agreed to become king. He was crowned on July 6th, completing the coup. After the summer of 1483, neither of the young princes were ever seen in public again.
The Princes in the Tower
What happened to Edward V and his younger brother Richard is unknown. It’s virtually certain they were murdered at some point (a pair of skeletons often thought to be them were discovered in a disused staircase of the Tower of London centuries later), but who actually killed them, we don’t know. Shakespeare and other Tudor authors put the blame on Richard, while people interested in defending Richard have offered a variety of other suspects. No serious scholar thinks that Richard personally stabbed or strangled them, but it is inconceivable that they were killed without Richard’s agreement; they were simply too important for some nobleman to sneak into the Tower and do them in without Richard’s knowledge.
The series takes an interesting approach to this question. It never resolves the issue. Someone enters the young king’s chamber in the Tower and he is startled awake, and that’s the last we see of him. For the remainder of the series, all the major characters wrestle with what happened to the boys. Elizabeth agonizes over the rumors that they are dead. Richard seems haunted by the question, and eventually goes to see Queen Elizabeth, asking her if her witchcraft stole them away, so it’s pretty clear that he didn’t do it. At different points both Margaret Beaufort and Anne Neville instruct underlings to kill the boys, so the viewer is left with the puzzle of whether one of the nobles or servants of Richard, Margaret, or Anne did the deed.
Queen Elizabeth and her daughter send a curse after whoever murdered the young king, and Anne eventually sickens and dies, so the show appears to point the finger at her. But she asks one of her lackeys if he did the deed and he denies it, absolving her of the guilt she is carrying. Margaret likewise wrestles with the issue of whether she can orchestrate the murder of Prince Richard, whom she literally brought into the world; her husband Lord Stanley (Rupert Graves) takes enormous pleasure at forcing her to say she wants the boy dead.

Bernard as Richard and Marsay as Anne
This approach has two virtues. First, it avoids passing judgment where historians have no definitive answer, and second, it dramatizes the widespread uncertainty felt at the time over what had happened to them. No one in 1485 knew the answer (except whoever did the deed), so the show leaves us hanging the way events left everyone at the time hanging.
However, ultimately, it’s a cop-out. As I noted, serious historians agree that Richard was responsible for their fate, even if he didn’t murder them with his own hands. The series is more than willing to show things that didn’t happen, such Edward, George, and Richard personally smothering Henry VI, or the Woodvilles conjuring hurricanes, so to suddenly demur at this point is just cheating. And Gregory is more than willing to give us her rather improbable take on a variety of issues, such as why Richard III was interested in his niece Elizabeth, so refusing to give us her solution to who done it feels cheap, like reading an Agatha Christie novel that ends with Poirot admitting he has no clue who the murderer is.
Furthermore, the series veers off wildly into La-La Land with this whole incident, because after Richard snatches young Edward, Queen Elizabeth manages to smuggle out her younger son Richard to Flanders under the name ‘Perkin Warbeck’, and somehow finds a lookalike boy to pretend to be him, so that King Richard mistakenly thinks he has Prince Richard in the Tower. This imposter somehow never gives the game away, nor does young Edward.
For those of you less familiar with the actual reign of Henry VII, one of the rebellions against him was in the name of a pretender named Perkin Warbeck. So Gregory is claiming that Perkin Warbeck actually was the man he claimed to be. It’s a cute twist, but utterly improbable.
The Battle of Bosworth Field
The show’s take on the battle that ended Richard III’s brief reign and life is pretty sad. The show clearly didn’t have a lot of money for battle scenes or even decent stuntmen or a good fight co-ordinator, because the two battles that are shown are both laughably bad. The most obvious problem is that the Battle of Bosworth Field takes place in a forest. The two sides have no formation, so as with so many other bad renditions of historical battles, the battle is depicted as a series of one-on-one fights with soldiers on both sides running in from both sides of the camera. There’s lots of sword-slapping-on-sword pseudo-fighting, and few of the men carry shields. There’s no sign of the cannons Richard used to harass Henry’s men as they maneuvered around a nearby marsh. There’s no cavalry, even though Richard’s charge straight at Henry’s position was one of the critical moments in the battle; had he succeeded he would have killed Henry and ended the battle right there, but instead he failed and wound up isolated and unhorsed, which led to his death. At least the men are wearing reasonable approximations of real period armor (although, as always, they go into battle mostly without helmets so the audience can see the actors’ faces).

Note the total absence of a field
I can totally appreciate that a miniseries doesn’t have the budget to realistically recreate a battle involving perhaps 15-20,000 men. Cavalry charges are expensive to stage. But it can’t have cost more to stage the fight in a field somewhere rather than a forest. It’s pretty clear they staged it in a forest because it made it easier to disguise the fact that they only had about 20 guys. Perhaps this might have worked for some other battle, but this particular battle is so famously set in a field, that’s its whole freaking name! Trying to dodge the issue here fails so badly it calls attention to how poorly the fight is staged. Given that it’s the climax of the whole series, it would have been nice if they had found another way to handle it.
Want to Know More?
The White Queen is available on Starz, and on Amazon. The three novels it is based on are The White Queen, The Red Queen, and The Kingmaker’s Daughter. They are also available as a set with two other novels.
The best book I know on Richard III is Charles Ross’ appropriately-named Richard III. Ross was, until his tragic murder during a break-in, probably the leading historian of Edward IV and Richard III and his take on these two men and their era has strongly influenced my approach to the series. I can’t recommend his books on them highly enough.
I found it interesting that this show had no problem with the supposed affair between Richard and Elizabeth of York. She seems to be genuinely in love with him in this show, and he’s her freakin uncle! I know nobility had a tendency to intermarry but I do not recall an instance where an uncle marrying his niece was considered acceptable. If I’m wrong please let know if there was an instance of that happening.
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No, you’re completely right. Such a relationship would have been considered incest, and I highly doubt that even a king could have gotten a dispensation for that marriage.
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Interestingly enough, there were a few contemporary famous avuncular marriages going on. In 1475, Alfonso of Portugal married his niece, Joanna of Castile, the claimant to the throne of Castile. After they were defeated by Ferdinand and Isabella, the marriage was dissolved on the grounds of consanguinity (obviously), and she took vows.
Meanwhile, in 1484, the Count of Romont married Marie of Luxembourg, his niece.(Jacquetta of Luxembourg was her great aunt, btw). They apparently stayed married until his death.
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Oh and on the subject of the Princes in the Tower. The sequel miniseries “The White Princess” decided to give us the answer of who killed the boys. It is rather unsurprisingly revealed to be Margaret Beaufort.
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Ah, thanks for the heads up. I’ll get around to that series in a little bit. I have a requested review that I need to get to next.
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….and this aspect proves that the magic of the show is not “real”, because the spells did not kill Margaret Beaufort.
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And yet they do successfully conjure bad weather at a rate that is too accurate for chance. The show repeatedly wants you to think that the magic is working without ever quite coming out and saying it’s working.
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I’ve been slowly reading through your articles as I’ve developed an avid interest in Medieval Britain during the last year and your writings have such a brilliant format. I haven’t seen most of the shows and movies you have reviewed, but using them as a starting point to explain aspects of the middle ages works so well I really don’t mind. Given what I just wrote, I am obviously not an expert when it comes to the War of the Roses and my question is a genuine one.
You mentioned Richard III seems like the most plausible culprit to you, but why would he have the Princes in the Tower killed once they had already been declared illegitimate and he had been crowned king? They were no longer much of a threat to him if kept in the Tower, right? Also, if they disappeared everyone would immediately assume he’d had his brother’s children murdered and Richard III would definitely not benefit from such a suspicion. Wouldn’t it make more sense for someone to have made the princes disappear in order to discredit Richard III?
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That’s a good question. The basic answer is that Richard was the 4th man to usurp the throne since 1399 (counting Edward IV twice). That meant that Richard’s claim to the throne was shaky, even if the boy’s were legally illegitimate at that moment. Their illegitimacy could be undone as easily as it was done, by anyone who had seized the throne. So as long as the boys lived, they offered an opportunity for someone to try and rebel in their name. Even if they were held in the Tower, they could still become the focus of a rebellion.
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I see, not so ideal then to have them in the Tower. I guess what baffles me the most though is how much Henry VII ended up benefiting from the disappearance of the princes. If they had still been in the Tower after Richard’s death, he would not have had such a convenient way to sort of legitimize his own claim to the throne by marrying Elizabeth of York by re-legitimizing Edward IV’s children. What he would have had instead would have been two more obstacles in his run for the crown. I do think that Richard could have done the deed (the man seems to have been quite the product of his times!), but isn’t the Margaret Beaufort (and allies) alternative also an appealing one?
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If Richard had been able to eliminate Henry easily, I’m sure he would have. But Henry was beyond Richard’s reach.
Margaret Beaufort wouldn’t have any access to the Tower, and the boys would certainly have been kept a close watch on. I think it far more unlikely that one of her supporters somehow killed and hid their bodies, than that Richard, who had a clear motive and the access to the boy’s, would have ordered their deaths.
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Thank you for taking the time to reply to my many questions! I’m going to push my luck and ask one more thing: what about the boys’ family? Did either Elizabeth, Woodville or York, ever officially inquire about them or accuse someone of their disappearance?
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After Henry VII took over, their deaths were laid at Richard’s door, but I don’t believe there was every any formal investigation into what happened. (I could be wrong about that, though.) Since Henry’s claim was rather weak, he didn’t want people digging too far into the boys situation, because their claim was stronger than his.
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I appreciated reading through your posts after having watched both TWQ and TWP. I came in with a tenuous and vague notion of what happened during the War of the Roses, so it’s interesting that I shared the same sense as you that TWQ started out fairly strong and then turned into a hot mess in the later episodes. And Richard’s characterization was a big part of this. I knew that he had been a maligned King in real life and, since I really liked the character I saw on screen, especially as he was loyal and faithful to Edward IV, contrasting with his scheming and faithless brother George, I wondered how this Richard III could possibly be reconciled with the evil villain of Shakespeare and popular history.
It turns out he can’t, or at least, Gregory wasn’t able to fully pull it off. It saddened me greatly to see Richard’s turn towards badness, especially as it was portrayed largely as him being played for an utter fool by those who counciled him and had a vested interest in destroying any understanding he might have come to with Elizabeth Woodville. And the fact that Anne Neville’s hatred of Elizabeth was actually quite justified in the confines of this show did not sit well with me… reading your other post about witchcraft cemented why this gave me a bad feeling—because TWQ lays the blame for the death of George and Isabelle’s first child at the cursed storm Jacquetta and Elizabeth conjured to wreck the boat. So when it comes down to it, TWQ justifies Anne’s fear and loathing of Elizabeth Woodville because it portrays her as a witch who causes miscarriages. Who could blame Anne for thinking that Elizabeth orchestrated the death of Isabelle and George? It makes you almost root for her when she pushes Richard to seize the Throne, Lady Macbeth style. And since this is all just fantasy at this point I did find myself resentful of Gregory for so vilifying her own main protagonist by turning her into a real witch who seduced Edward IV and damned the Plantagenets.
But what finally soured my feelings for good was the romanticized affair between Richard and Elizabeth of York. I was blindsided by the way Gregory seemed intent on absolving Richard of malicious intent with regard to other aspects of the events, but then leaned so heavily into confirming the alleged incestuous desires. And it’s supposed to be romantic instead of creepy? After the show spent 8 episodes building up Richard and Anne as just about the only tender and loving relationship that didn’t involve attempted rape or martial rape or infidelity, they sure did a good job of destroying it for a very implausible scenario where Richard decides to pretend cuckhold Henry VII despite how bad it makes him look personally, on top of all the bad press he was already getting, and then is dismayed when people have the nerve to gossip about him poisoning his wife. And the flaming cherry on top of this dumpster fire comes when he accidentally does fall in love with his niece for real and decides to marry her after all… Historical accuracy aside, Gregory’s Richard III is all over the place as a character. Perhaps her novels did a better job of showing his morals breaking down over time but the show certainly did not — to me he seemed to abruptly lose his mind as soon as his brother died.
This comment is longer than I intended but I did want to wrap it up by saying none of this holds a candle to the abomination that is the Perkin Warbeck plot in The White Princess. Between her affair with her Uncle and her murder of her own brother in TWP, poor Elizabeth of York has been dragged quite throughly through the mud by Phillipa Gregory.
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That’s a good analysis. For me the troubling part is that by making witchcraft real, Gregory essentially validates the misogyny underlying a lot of witchcraft accusations. Women really are evil witches that want to kill your babies!
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