Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform’d, unfinish’d, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;…
- Act I, Scene I, Richard III, W. Shakespeare
The University of Leicester has formally identified the remains it recovered recently under a car park at Grey Friars, Leicester as Richard III, King of England, 1483-1485, the last of the Plantagenets.
The BBC has ample coverage (and a terrific gallery of images from which the above was sourced). From an archaeologist's perspective, the research that uncovered Richard III has demonstrated how history, archaeology, genetics and science can cross-pollinate spectacularly to unearth a 528-year old mystery.
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Someone commented "So what? What does it matter to us today?" on one news article, a bit of sophistry that infuriates me. As the old adage goes, those who forget their past are condemned to repeat it but beyond that aphorism lies a deeper understanding: having an appreciation and comprehension of the past allows you to connect with and understand the forces that drive the present, the long ribbon of connectivity and effect that provides context and knowledge. History is that shared experience a society carries that helps facilitate its very foundation. Having a clear understanding of the drivers and fundamentals of your own society necessitates a grasp of history, of knowing the whys and whats of the past, in order to determine your future.
The recovered skeletal remains bear the marks of ten wounds, eight to the head alone, a testament to the fury and chaotic violence of the medieval battlefield. Richard III will be laid to rest again in Leicester Cathedral, a somewhat more dignified fate then he suffered in death, having been hauled off Bosworth Field, paraded around and dumped into a grave at Greyfriars Church, supposedly without ceremony and in an unmarked grave. Without a doubt, Leicester will build a museum and experience a nice tourism upheaval in the wake of the discovery, at long last "made glorious summer by this sun of York."