Page:Mediaevalleicest00billrich.djvu/229

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account of this miserable episode written by a former rector of Church Langton in Leicestershire, who was a contemporary, is worth quoting. "Interea Ricardi corpus, cuncto nu datum vestitu, ac dorso equi impositum, capite et brachiis et cruribus utrimque pendentibus, Leicestriam ad coenobium Franciscanorum monachorum deportant, spectaculum mehercule miserabile, sed hominis vita dignum, ibique sine ullo funeris honore biduo post terra humatur."

Strange stories grew up out of this singular illustration of the irony of fate. One was told about the Princess Elizabeth, daughter of Edward IV, who afterwards became the wife of Henry VII. She is said by a balladist to have been in Leicester at the time of the battle of Bosworth Field, and there to have welcomed the arrival of the dead body of her enemy with derisive taunts.

"Thé carryed him naked into Leicester,
And buckled his haire under his chin.
Bessye mett him with a merry cheere;
These were the words she sayd to him.
How likest thou slaying of my brethren twaine?
She spake these words to him alowde."

Another tale, not quite so impossible, is told about a son of Richard III, known as Richard Plantagenet, then sixteen years of age. On August 21st, 1485, it is said, this boy was instructed by his father to meet him in London after the battle, and the King promised that he would then and there publicly acknowledge him as his son. When the battle was over, therefore, young Richard set out for London. But before he had gone far, his progress was arrested by a tragic spectacle. "Just as I came into Leicester," he said, "I saw a dead body brought to town upon a horse. And upon looking steadfastly upon it, I found it to be my father."[1]

It was not until after the lapse of ten years that Richard's successor thought well to erect any memorial over his remains. He then caused a tomb to be built "of many-coloured marble," adorned with a statue of the dead King. This tombstone,


  1. On the truth of this story, which has been doubted, see the Gentleman's Magazine, July and August, 1767.

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