Coincidences can be very striking sometimes.
Only recently, I recorded a fascinating documentary programme, entitled enigmatically The King In The Car-Park.
This concerned the recent discovery in the centre of Leicester in middle England of the bones of Richard III, the last English king to have died in battle. And perhaps the most controversial historical Royal ever.
The controversy stems from the fact that he came to the throne of England in the 15th century in a most roundabout way.
And historical accounts, and indeed the history play written by Shakespeare concerning the life and death of the King paint him as a vile tyrant that killed his two young nephews in order to seize the Crown for himself.
Shakespeare was writing a century after the death of this King at the Battle of Bosworth.
And the history books give an account of this king that was to all intents and purposes written in order it seems to justify the rights of the Victor at the Battle of Bosworth, who became King of England in Richard’s place.
Henry Tudor had apparently a very slender right to the crown of England, and since history is written by the Victors, it seems that the stories about this most reviled of Kings may have been doctored so that he was painted to be a villainous and untrustworthy candidate for Kingship.
The major coincidence I referred to earlier is the fact that one of my carers, that is keen on reading to me whilst I eat my meals, has recently purchased an unlikely treat from a local charity shop.
This is a detective story written by somebody who goes by the pseudonym of Josephine Tey.
Written in 1951, a simple Google search has indicated that this mystery/detective story has been hailed as one of the best detective stories ever written.
Quite an honour, and perhaps not easily granted.
But granted in this case by an organisation made up of peers of the writer, who perhaps can be well trusted in this matter.
It is one of five stories under this pseudonym that the authoress wrote with at its heart an English policeman of the old school, recuperating in hospital after having broken a leg whilst chasing a villain in the course of his duties.
Simply to keep his mind occupied whilst he spends time in bed in hospital, in 1951, a friend brings him a number of old prints.
Because he is a Detective, he cannot help but be interested in the faces of the people portrayed in these prints, one of whom is Richard third.
From that point on, we are drawn into the investigation this policeman undertakes, firstly as simply a hunch that this man does not look the kind of character to whom are attributed the crimes that after his death on the battlefield were laid at his door.
And so he begins to examine all of the historical evidence on the assertions about his crimes.
Mainly that he murdered his two nephews, sons of his own brother, over whom he was at first the Regent and Protector after his brothers’ untimely early death, after which he supposedly declared himself the King in his place.
A further coincidence (and of course, they always come in threes!) Is that the BBC has been televising a series entitled The White Queen, which seems to be inevitably moving towards this historic struggle between the Plantagenets and the Tudors.
We haven’t yet completed the book, but it is proving to be a fascinating read, and the documentary programme is in itself fascinating, in that the skeleton of this King has been discovered under the tarmac of the local social services building in Leicester. The most inauspicious possible site for such an important body.
Until this time, lost to history.
It seems that there is a surviving DNA match for this dead King, someone of Canadian parentage, and working quite innocently though aware of his hallowed origins as a furniture maker somewhere in the suburbs of London.
It is a fascinating story so far, and it is still unfolding.
A reminder if one were needed that indeed history is written by those that win victories in battle, and that we must be careful before we accept even the most stylishly presented histories, and you can’t get much more stylish than to have your story told by Shakespeare himself.
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