Customer Reviews

The Princes in the Tower

5 star:		(32)
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1 star:		(27)

 

 

I'm of two minds on Alison Weir's The Princes in the Tower. On the one hand, it is an immensely readable history of Richard III, king of England, and the mystery of what happened to his nephews who he had confined to the Tower of London. Weir comes down strongly on the side that Richard had his nephews killed. Weir writes well, and the reader is sucked in to the story. On the other hand, though, Weir's research and conclusions are atrocious and beneath what a proper historian should be. She makes many suppositions and then treats them as fact. Some of her timelines are wildly inaccurate, and since she uses these to support her theory, that puts the entire theory in doubt. Thus, while it's an enjoyable read, I can't really recommend the book unless the reader is aware of this and willing to read further on the subject without taking Weir's view as indisputable fact.

Where to begin? Weir starts out by discussing the various sources of information on the controversy. Many of these sources weren't contemporary at all, being written after Henry VII had taken the throne. The one she bases most of her theories on, an unfinished history by Sir Thomas More, she claims is contemporary. However, Thomas was eight years old at the time these events occurred and didn't start his book until much later. He supposedly had access to many people "in the know," and Weir takes this as proof that what he says is, for the most part, accurate. What she fails to take into account, however, is More's history was written during the Tudor reign, when it wasn't exactly safe to be extolling Richard's virtues. Sure, More's sources may have been there, but do you really think they're going to risk their head by telling the truth? In fact, Weir states many times that many people who were involved in the events were still alive at this time, and surely would have been in a position to know if More wasn't accurate. This is complete hogwash, since it would have meant dire consequences to dispute these "facts." The other sources written during the Tudor reign suffer from this problem as well.

Weir states at the beginning of the book that she wrote this book "...because there is a need for the subject to be dealt with from an objective viewpoint based on common sense and sound research." After saying this, however, Weir proceeds to write a hatchet job on Richard that shows no real signs of objectivity at all. She mentions the Tudor historians and the problems inherent in taking them at face value, but then proceeds to do just that when they support her theory. When they don't, of course, they may have gotten it wrong. She casually presents and discards some of the pro-Richard historical work that is around, dismissing them as impossible.

Elsewhere in the book, she gets timelines wrong in ways that make what she says impossible. One of the most blatant is when she's discussing the timing of the murders. She says that the murders had to have happened on the night of September 3. However, later when she's discussing how other monarchs around Europe felt about Richard and the Princes, she states that Louis XI of France clearly believed that Richard had committed the murders. She goes on to say, though, that Louis died on August 30, 1483, 4 days before the murders supposedly happened! How can this be? There are other problems in Weir's logic that similarly cast her theories into doubt.

Finally, many times in the book she says that something "could have" happened, or she claims that it's logical to assume something. She then goes on to base many more "facts" on these suppositions, making her conclusions balanced on a tissue-thin platform just waiting to collapse. One of the most outrageous is her assumption that More has credibility because he talked to some nuns. Thomas More used to go visit a convent in which Brackenbury's widow and some other Yorkist (a noble family at this time) ladies were in retirement. He could have talked with them, says Weir, and they could have known the real truth about the princes, and they could have told him. She then goes on to say that thus, More's tale has to be accurate, because these nuns would know. Huh? Weir has no idea if More actually did this, but she goes on to base her assumption on this. The book is filled with these "might have been" statements.

It's a shame that such a well-written book has to be so poorly presented as history. I really like Alison Weir's books (though I am aware that many historians find her work shoddy), but this one is just too much. Even I, a historical novice, can see how badly done this book is. She did a lot of research, but the conclusions she has taken from that research are flimsy and not well-supported at all (though she attempts to show that they are). If you find yourself reading this book, please keep that in mind and read something else on the subject as well. As long as the beginning reader is aware of this, then it's not so bad and this book can be a good start on getting interested in the subject. However, if the new reader comes in unaware, then many "facts" will have to be unlearned later on.

I've read a bunch of Weir's other works and I've liked them all, but after having read this I began doubting her other works. Having read nearly a dozen accounts of Richard III's life and his relationship to the princes, I can say that this is more or less a rehashing of Sir Thomas More's UNFINISHED biography of RIII. Her whole case rests on the work of More, whose work has been questioned, most notbably and effectively by Horace Walpole.
Weir questions her own sources and then uses them to prove her point the "Richard did it". An earthshattering conclusion? Not by any means, but the way she gets there is somewhat lazy and ignores some pretty decent scholarship on the subject. Most of what we "know" about RIII comes from Shakespeare's play, which is based on More. Weir didn't seem to stray any further than Shakespeare (the Oliver Stone of the Elizabethian age) to come to her conclusion.
Again, not her best work. She does a much better job with the Tudors.

As usual, Weir has written a lively, readable book, but I think it is a very poor history. Weir makes some insightful remarks when the facts suit her, but I would only recommend the book to readers who know enough about the subject to carefully weigh her claims. Others have talked about the reliability of Weir's sources, but I'll just stick to the problems that are internal to the book, even if the reader knows nothing else about the topic.

Weir constantly contradicts herself and her logic is often bizarre. On a general level, she tries to argue that the facts surrounding the death of the princes were at one and the same time, a closely guarded secret and known to everyone in Europe, depending on which is most convenient to her at any given point. At a more detailed level:

She spends several pages arguing that the story that Edward IV's marriage to Elizabeth Woodville was bigamous is completely ludicrous and that no contemporary writer believed it. She then describes it as "well-conceived and plausible".

Citing More, she claims that Margaret Beaufort was able to prove to Elizabeth Woodville that her sons (the princes in the tower) were dead. Later, Weir claims that Henry VII (Beaufort's son) didn't know whether or not they were dead. What happened to the evidence provided to Woodville?

Weir claims that Louis XI knew that Richard III murdered the princes, in spite of the fact that she believes they were alive when Louis died.

She claims that More got otherwise unknown information from knowledgeable people of his acquaintance. If it is obvious to Weir that these people might have known something, wouldn't it have been even more obvious to Henry VII and his advisors? Wouldn't he have questioned them? Would they have refused to answer the king and then babbled all they knew to More?

She argues that no-one other than Richard III could have killed the princes during his reign, since no-one was tried for it. Then she claims that Henry VII knew who murdered the princes, at Richard's order, but never tried them because it would have raised embarrassing questions. Wouldn't it have been even more embarrassing for Richard to have tried someone during his reign? She also claims that Henry feared it might alienate other European rulers, in spite of her claim that those rulers already knew all about it while Richard was alive and continued to deal with him.

She argues that More's friends read the manuscript and would have corrected any errors, in spite of the fact that (as she admits) it contains numerous errors as it is.

There are more problems, but I can't sum them up in a few sentences.

Since originally writing this review, I have looked into the issue of the textile evidence, i.e., Weir's claim that an unidentified person said that there were scraps of velvet in the coffin when it was opened; Weir does not bother to cite a source. I strongly fault her failure to provide documentation for this new and very interesting argument.

She claims that an unnamed textile expert told her that velvet first came to England in 1400. She then argues that it was very expensive and custom limited its use to only "the very highest", so these bones must have been the princes. This contradicts her cherished quote from More that the princes were naked when they were strangled; I think it's unlikely that people committing murder in haste would dress the bodies before burial. Further, according to Textiles and Clothing, c.1150-1450 (Medieval Finds from Excavations in London) (Medieval Finds from Excavations in London) by Elisabeth Crowfoot, Frances Pritchard, Kay Staniland, the first WRITTEN records of velvet imports were in the late 13th century. The wardrobe records of Edward IV, the princes' father, show that pieces of velvet were common gifts to his followers, and the wardrobe records of Sir John Fastolf (d.1459) show that he had several velvet garments. [Fastolf was an extremely wealthy man, so his wardrobe can't be taken as typical for all knights.] Fabric of all types was relatively much more expensive prior to the industrial era and there was a very active trade in used garments and fabrics. So there had been something close to two hundred years prior to the deaths of the princes, and three hundred and fifty years prior to finding of the bones, for resold pieces of velvet to work their way down the social chain.

I am therefore not convinced that small scraps of velvet prove that the bodies belonged to princes, even assuming that the unknown witness in the uncited source was correct in his/her identification of fabric as velvet and not some other nappy fabric. I am, however, convinced that Weir was suspiciously sloppy in presenting her case, particularly given that many of her other statements are carefully documented.

If you're a student of the topic, as I am, it's worth reading. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone as an introduction. For that, try reading A.J. Pollard's Richard III and the Princes in the Tower. Pollard also believes that Richard III was guilty; my objections to Weir are not primarily based on the assumption that Richard was innocent, just a preference for good, well-documentated research and logical thinking. Mysterious Deaths - The Little Princes in the Tower (Mysterious Deaths) by William W. Lace is also better than Weir, just realize that a lot of the illustrations are 19th century. I also recommend Royal Blood: Richard III and the Mystery of the Princes by Bertram Fields. Fields is more sympathetic to Richard III, and quite dismissive of Weir, but the exciting thing to me is that he tosses around ideas and thought-provoking possibilities without necessarily drawing conclusions. Some people find that irritating, but I find it very stimulating.

Alison Weir exercises her right to analyse the facts and to draw her conclusions in 'The Princes in the Tower' by assembling a fascinating array of first-hand evidence from primary sources and from Thomas More's subsequent "history". She points the finger firmly at Richard - an unpopular conclusion with many! - while at the same time warning the reader firmly that nobody can know for certain whether or not he murdered his brother's sons when he usurped the crown.

Superbly structured and well-written, readers will enjoy her illuminating, liberal and plainly well-informed discussion of the sources, and her analysis of the subsequent deliberate blackening of Richard's name in Tudor and later times. The level-headed exposition of the politics of Richard's mortal rivalry with the Woodvilles is particularly useful. There is also a fascinating discussion of Richard's portraits, and the x-ray evidence showing how the paintings have been doctored to portray Richard as a hunchback.

Some have offered the opinion that because Ms Weir's books are so readable, they are in some way unscholarly. I don't agree with that analysis. Top marks again for another top piece of research. Much recommended.

This is the type of book in which the author daydreams his/her way through it. What is simply speculation, rumor, hint and flat-out tall tale, becomes fact under the pen of the wishful author. "It probably isn't so, but I am a respected author, and if I say it is so, people usually believe me." It is the sort of book for someone who is probably only going to read one book on Richard III, so Weir hammers the reader over the head with her theories, to make her point so thoroughly that the reader won't even want to get another opinion. Try Paul Murray Kendall, Jeremy Potter or Charles Ross on Richard III and become acquainted with solid scholarship. One star is one too many.

The Princes in the Tower is Weir's first installment in a series of engaging nonfiction works on Medieval and Renaissance England. She begins by tracing the development of Edward IV's reign, especially the muddle of the Wars of the Roses, then explains how it came to pass that Richard of Gloucester ascended the throne and eventually did away with his nephews. Weir has drawn on many and varied sources, mostly from the era itself, to formulate a solid and detailed account of this infamous mystery. As background for Shakespeare's Richard III or just pleasure reading of the historical variety, this book makes an excellent read.

I am amazed that so many people find Weir's writing engaging. Compared to many modern writers - historical and not - it is mediocre at best. As for her presentation of "facts" - she is extremely biased. It is clear even for anyone like me who vaguely knows of Shakespeare's "Richard the III" and having been born in Russia never studied British history in earnest. I do read a lot of documentary mysteries and am inclined to logic and reasoning by occupation (financial accounting) and I should agree with all the previous reviewers who comments on her inclination to bent facts to fit the preconceptions Mrs. Weir has to reach the conclusions she obviously had before she wrote the book (and probably started the research).

One good thing did come out of reading this book, though - it caused me to seek more material about the period and I have red, among others, the Paul Murrey Kendall's "Richard the III" and can highly recommend it as a book of high scholarly standards and excellent example of truly engaging historical writing. I don't think King Richard the III was a saint, and I am sure anybody is capable of murder under certain circumstances, but I tend to agree with "revisionists" that it is hard to believe that he was behind this particular murder and definitely was not the one who would benefit from it the way it was done. On me "The Princes in the Tower" had the opposite effect from the one intended by the author. But if you are seeking a melodrama presented in the guise of historical writing - it is a book for you.

Another book on Richard III, Alison Weir's The Princes in the Tower is almost a whodunit? that uses the history of the ambitious activities of Richard of Gloucester as a run up to the discussion of who committed the murders. By providing the reader with an understanding of the socio-political background to the disappearances of the two boys, she allows us to determine for ourselves the likely suspect. As the author herself points out, numerous writers have taken up the same evidence to both convict and exonerate Richard of the crimes. Apparently there has even been a mock trial held on television in the late 1980s that failed to convict him on the basis of "lack of evidence." Probably the most interesting fictional account occurs in the 1950s novel by Josephine Tey, The Daughter of Time. Here a modern homicide detective Alan Grant, bored by a prolonged hospitalization. undertakes the resolution of the crime as a mental game and comes up with Henry VII as the most likely perpetrator. In fact, as the author herself points out, the modern fad in history has been to rehabilitate Richard's reputation by proving him innocent. Probably the most beautifully written fictional accounts with a "guilty" verdict, is Shakespeare's Richard III (Folger Shakespeare Library); who is not moved by the opening speech, "Now is the winter of our discontent...." In the end and most tellingly I think,those writing during his own lifetime, some placed where they were likely to have known, believed he had committed the atrocities. Certainly the average man-in-the-street believed him at least capable of it. I can't help but feel that they knew a little more about the conditions of their own era than we do. Certainly nothing that has come to light since then has really changed the verdict.

For a long time I liked the idea of Henry VII's guilt. Presented as it has been, he seemed the most likely beneficiary of the murders. After reading the author's book, however, I suspect that while Henry VII could and would have murdered them, Richard II got there first. This follows from the author's very thorough discussion of means, motive and opportunity; it is very much a "manor house" type of murder mystery. Her discussion of the primary sources for the period of Richard's brief reign, which she handles extensively and very logically, makes it almost certain that Richard ordered the murder of the two boys. She pays especial attention to the likely access of these sources to reliable witnesses, since none of them were likely to have been privy to the actual events themselves. Most interesting to me, because I'd not heard about them before, was the covey of Royal and Aristocratic ladies who had been close to the political action of Richard's reign and who were residing in a convent at Aldgate (p. 170) probably to stay out of the way of the violence and to abstain from politics during the era of the Tudors. As with so much of history, what women knew and how to get at what they knew is often left out of equations that attempt to recreate and interpret the events of the past. The author uses what these ladies probably knew of Richard's activities to bolster the credibility of one of the sources she uses, the writings of Sir Thomas More who apparently knew and visited them in their self imposed confinement. The only misstep in the logic seems to me that the credibility and motives of these sources are not themselves necessarily as carefully examined. More might have been misled by their accounts of what happened. In the end, as in a court of law, what he might have received was second hand information provided by biased sources.

If one reads anything at all about the Middle Ages in England from the period of Edward II to Richard III, the very first thing that emerges is that it was a time of kill or be killed and trust no one, especially the near and dear. While the author is very correct in her examination of the life of Richard of Gloucester to discover the motives for the murder, I think she fails to make it apparent enough that he had little or no choice in his course of action. Essentially Richard lived with the choices others had made before him, some of them made well before his lifetime. In outline, these are:

1. Isabella and Edward II creating a court of professional favorites to provide leverage for the crown against the power of the hereditary magnates and their fight against these favorites.
2. The deposition of Edward II and the creation of a minority kingship controlled by court favorites, most notably his mother Isabella and her lover Roger Mortimer.
3. The murder of Edward II after an attempt to reinstate him threatens the legitimacy of Edward III's reign.
4. Edward III and his close knit family actually create problems by raising individuals of royal blood to super clout, especially through marriages to heiresses with large landed estates.
5. Long life of Edward III and the death of his heir, Edward the Black Prince, leaves the minor Richard II on the throne under the control of his uncle, John of Guant Duke of Landcaster.
6. Richard II's attempts to wrest control of his realm from his magnates, especially his uncle, by the use of professional favorites.
7. John of Gaunt's heirs by the Beaufort line are legitimized by Papal and Parliamentary decrees, leaving them with claims to the throne despite later attempts to bar them from it.
8. Richard II attempts to centralize control of the realm in his own hands by destroying John of Gaunt and by exiling and disinheriting his son Henry Bolingbroke.
9. Bolingbroke, using a power base in France as a springboard, challenges Richard II to regain his inheritance but discovers that the country is so fed up with the latter's rule that Henry decides to use his own popularity with the magnates and the people to usurp the throne as Henry IV.
10. The minority kingship of Henry V's heir, Henry VI, creates a new set of unpopular favorites.
11. As an adult Henry's inability and his disinterest in the "job" of kingship--not to mention his probable diagnosis of schizophrenia--leaves his ambitious foreign born queen open to rule through favorites, alienating the magnates including Edward a descendant of John of Gaunt.
12. The Queen's lack of understanding of--or indifference to--English law, history and psychology cause her every action to make things worse, leading to the attempted deposition of her husband and son by Richard of York and finally the successful deposition by the latter's son, the later Edward IV, again using France as a staging point.
13. Henry VI after a counter-coup led by disgruntled magnates is executed by Edward IV when he is himself reinstated.
14. The unexpected death of Edward IV with the prospect of yet another minority kingship conducted by court favorites leads Richard to the activities described in the book.

There is a pattern here. Once the can of worms had been opened by the deposition of Edward II and the sacred right of kings questioned, kingship became something of a popularity contest. An unpopular ruler would be deposed and imprisoned. When the new ruler became unpopular, the old ruler became the focus of a movement to reinstate him. If this attempt were unsuccessful, the opportunity for it to happen again was eliminated by eliminating the deposed monarch. Given these political events, all of which would have been well known to Richard, the options open to him were probably much more limited than it appears. He simply cut out all the intervening steps. Essentially Richard's behavior, while motivated to some degree by ambition just as it was for most of the powerful of his time, was dictated to a far greater degree by the "facts of life" as he understood them. He was nobody's fool. His circumstances left him few alternatives other than usurpation, exile or death. Put this bluntly one can easily see why he chose usurpation.

Had Richard gone into exile he would have been left with little of value other than a possible claim to the throne which the French could use in their never ending wars with England. That might at least have provided him with a living of some sort. Or he might have become a vassal of one of the many warring kingdoms and duchies on the continent; he was after all an experienced military leader. However the number of exiled nobles who the author notes "died in poverty" on the continent, suggests that that life wasn't particularly optimal. Had he stayed in England, he would probably have met the very fate he expected, execution by enemies jealous of his property and standing. He might "dodge the bullet" for a while, but ultimately they'd get him. I think it's safe to say his estimates of the character and inclinations of the Wydville clan were considerably better than ours. (Think Hatfields and McCoys). These were the brutal facts of life Richard faced. Richard was almost driven to the course he took.

Trying Richard by the standards of behavior of our own times for being a "cruel" uncle and "murderer" of the poor little king and his brother is somewhat unfair. Edward II, Richard II, and Henry VI may have been adults when they were put to death to prevent their becoming a focus for malcontents eager to challenge the reigning monarch, but they probably valued their lives every bit as much as the young Princes in the Tower. Eliminating challenges to the reigning king lent a modicum of stability to government at least on the short term. If any "guilty" verdict should be leveled, it should be against a form of government that left too much to the chance characteristics of a single individual--whose genetics could and did put insane monarchs on the throne--was too subject to the whims of the favorites of that king and too little to the rule of law, and left little or no recourse to misrule by an incompetent ruler other than civil war. The entire situation was an invitation to disaster. Richard was the right man--even those who hated him seem to have admitted he was a good administrator and a brave and competent military man--in the right place at the wrong time.

Of course Richard III had the princes murdered; he had very little choice, and he knew it.

For a young interested student like me, the way Weir has structured this book made the reading flow well and she keeps her mind focussed on what she is trying to prove. However, her information was too circumstantial to be taken seriously. If anything, this is a good introduction to royal history and the political intrigue that accompanied it.

Clear, concise, and extremely readable, Weir's The Princes in the Tower clips along at a very agreeable pace, yet it seems some are eager to pan this book based on its conclusions. There are two options: either Richard III usurped the throne and murdered his nephews or he didn't. Weir is forthrightly in the tyrant camp as her conclusions drawn from source materials reflect. These are the same source materials used by those who champion Richard's innocence. Good books can emanate from either viewpoint, if one avoids the glowering pedant.

In evaluating Weir's conclusions, reviewers here should note that a contemporary source is any source able to cite witnesses during their lifetime. It matters not that Sir Thomas More was 8 years old when the murders took place. It's the age of the witnesses that matter. Furthermore, if we dismiss the narrative of the *subsequent* regime for fear it is too negative, we must dismiss the narrative of the *subject* regime for fear it is too positive. Key to extracting probabilities from both is discretion.

In a very brief 258 pages, I thought Weir did a tolerable job of evaluating events and presenting a considered analysis. But, more importantly, she's authored an entertaining book. I haven't always been so generous with Weir. Her Eleanor of Aquitaine I found too agenda-driven, the type of history that merely assuages the author's present-day sensibilities. Not so, The Princes in the Tower. It is a straightforward narrative history, a centuries-old "whodunit", which I eagerly ripped right through. 4+ stars.