Richard III: His Disability’s Influence On His Life, Death, and Legacy
And thus I clothe my naked villainy
With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ;
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil” (Shakespeare, 2009).
*** Author’s Note:
This article differs slightly from my usual work. It focuses on a specific historical figure who experienced scoliosis, rather than solely on cardiovascular disease (CVD) and pacemakers. However, there is a reason behind it.
My upcoming short story, which will be uploaded on my Substack tomorrow, centers on Richard III of England (2 October 1452 – 22 August 1485). He is a complex and controversial historical figure with a 500-year-old royal murder mystery often ascribed to him. But for most of that time, the debate surrounding his guilt or innocence depended upon whether or not he had a physical disability, such as being described as a hunchback and/or having a shriveled arm. However, the uncovering of his physical remains and the confirmation of his idiopathic adolescent onset scoliosis confirm that yes, he did have a curved spine, but not a shriveled arm, and there is some degree of truth to those historical claims about his physical difference. However, what actual effect did his condition have on Richard III’s life, death, and legacy?
As someone who also has a curved spine and a shriveled arm, I found him to be unique, fascinating, and relatable among the rulers of the past. So I wrote both this article and the following Substack short story, which will be posted tomorrow at 13:00 German time.
The nature and motives of Richard III, as well as his deeds during his reign, or those committed under his watch, have been a source of controversy for centuries. Generally speaking, since his death, the public image of Richard III has centered around Shakespeare’s play Richard III, and the image it portrays of him. As a result, he is often remembered as a monarch with a dastardly and horrid reputation. He has long been accused of murdering his nephews in the Tower of London, stealing the throne, and scheming to maintain his power, just to name a few of the many accusations. This literary work, coupled with other historical texts, describes him with a twisted spine, hunchback, and shriveled arm, which were seen as an outer statement of his inner broken nature. This was considered justification for accusing him of these crimes at the time; however, now that his physical remains were discovered in 2012, the revelation of his physical condition actually raises more questions than it answers. Furthermore, it has also shifted the terrain of his legacy because it raised more questions than it answered. What of the general narrative surrounding his life and death is true, and what of it is fictional? What did his disability mean for his reign? And what did the discovery of Richard III’s remains reveal, and what is still debated?
Richard III has primarily remained in the public consciousness throughout the centuries due to Shakespeare’s play Richard III, which cemented him in the role of one of history’s monsters. In this iteration, he is undisputedly a hunchback with a shriveled arm who was a greedy, spiteful little man who schemed and murdered his way to the throne—a villain of form and nature.
However, this view of Richard III has been contested for centuries, with the theoretical pendulum swinging back and forth as new evidence and research emerged. Sometimes this controversy even entered the realm of historical fiction, as seen in books like The Daughter of Time (1951) by Josephine Tey, which provided a more in-depth, quizzical nature to its character, but ultimately determined that Richard and his legacy were solely a victim of Tudor propaganda. According to this book, he was a righteous ruler all along, who never had any physical anomaly, but was actually a physically healthy individual whose legacy was twisted and recrafted to fit the needs of his conqueror’s political agenda.
However, the discovery of the king’s remains in a car park in 2012 rekindled interest in not only Richard III as a historical figure, but also in his legacy (Hall, 2017). The article, The Scoliosis of Richard III, Last Plantagenet King of England: Diagnosis and Clinical Significance, discusses how “the physical disfigurement from Richard’s scoliosis was probably slight since he had a well-balanced curve. His trunk would have been short relative to the length of his limbs, and his right shoulder a little higher than the left” (Appleby et al., 2014). Thankfully, the “curve of 70–90° would not have caused impaired exercise tolerance from reduced lung capacity, and we identified no evidence that Richard would have walked with an overt limp, because the leg bones are symmetric and well formed” (Appleby et al., 2014). In summary, according to his article, he had scoliosis, and it would not have been overly visible outside. However, the degree to which his movement and behavior were only minimally impacted by the affliction remains a controversial subject amongst scholars.
It should also be noted that the modern archeological evidence from his physical remains coincides with writings from the time of his death. What was particularly notable, along with other works contemporary to the time that is discussed in the article, Richard III’s Scoliosis Revisited notes how the chronicler, John Rous, wrote in a post-mortem document about Richard that “Richard III was of small stature, with a short face and unequal shoulders, the right higher and the left lower” (Galassi et al., 2023), which directly reflects the modern diagnosis. Therefore, this confirms and connects the original condition after his death with the evidence revealed in the study of his remains. However, while it has been confirmed that Richard III had scoliosis, the degree of its visibility and the extent to which it impacted his life remain subject to debate.
However, Richard III’s medical condition is not unique. A documentary, Richard III: The New Evidence (2014) employed modern comparative techniques to determine if and how Richard III was able to ride on horseback with his physical condition. So, they interviewed a young man, Dominic Smee, who experiences a nearly identical spinal condition to that suffered by Richard III. Although he had no experience at it, they tested his ability to ride a horse in time-period-specific armor, saddle, and horsemanship activities to see if his condition impeded or enhanced his mobility. Fascinatingly, it was revealed that the young participant felt more comfortable in the armor, as it provided support for his back—the same with riding in a time-period-specific saddle. While for him, his condition often caused him pain and limited mobility on occasion, when riding horseback in a suit of armor, he felt comfortable enough to participate in target practice on horseback. In the documentary, the scoliosis did cause Smee regular discomfort, but the physical support of the time-period-specific armor and saddle made movement and balance easier for him. However, even if the armor and the saddle made movements easier when armored and riding, he was still killed on the battlefield and died in battle in a most gruesome manner.
According to the article, Perimortem Trauma In King Richard III: A Skeletal Analysis, “in our analysis of the skeleton believed to be Richard III, we have identified 11 perimortem injuries, one possible perimortem injury, and a fracture that seems to be the result of taphonomic damage. All 11 perimortem, securely identified injuries were consistent with the types of weapons from the late medieval period” (Appleby et al., 2015). The article continues in more detail. Describing how “the head injuries are consistent with some near-contemporary accounts of the battle, which suggest that Richard abandoned his horse after it became stuck in a mire and was killed while fighting his enemies. Although we cannot establish the order in which the injuries were received from the skeleton, we can make some interpretations on the basis of what is known about medieval armor. The injuries represent either a sustained attack or an attack by several assailants. None of the wounds to the skull is consistent with an individual wearing a helmet of the type worn in the late 15th century, suggesting that Richard had either lost his helmet or it had been removed, forcibly or otherwise, before the injuries to the skull were sustained. Notably, we identified no indications of defensive wounds to the arms and hands, suggesting that Richard was still armoured (apart from his helmet) at the point of his death. At least three of the injuries had the potential to cause death quickly. Still, one was likely to have been received postmortem (the pelvis injury), meaning that the most likely fatal injuries are the two to the inferior cranium. Further injuries that did not affect the skeleton cannot be ruled out” (Appleby et al., 2015). So, despite his medical condition, both historical and archeological evidence confirmed that he not only participated in but was brutally felled in the Battle of Bosworth in 1485. This means that he acted as a king would, fighting to defend his right to the throne despite his illness.
However, this is also where his death and the manner of it were particularly brutal, and it may also be because of the fact that his disability was only revealed in the aftermath of the battle, when his body was stripped bare. According to Lund, after he died, “his body became subject to new forms of examination and interpretation: stripped naked after the battle of Bosworth, his corpse was carried to Leicester and exhibited before being buried” (Lund, 2015). Furthermore, she discusses details of his treatment documented around the time of his death, which are all consistent with the uncovered physical remains. “In the version told in the early Tudor London chronicle the Great Chronicle, the last Plantagenet monarch was ‘dyspoylid [despoiled] to the skyn, and nowgth beyng lefft abouth hym, soo much as wold covyr his pryvy membyr he was trussyd behynd a pursevaunt callid Norrey as an hogg or an othyr vyle beest, and soo all to besprung wyth myyr [mire] and ffylth was browgth to a chirch/ in leycetyr ffor all men to wondyr uppon, and there lastly Inreverently buried’” (Lund, 2015). So, before his burial, “his body was laid out for a miserable spectacle the space of two dayes [he] lay naked and unburied, his remembrance being as odious to all, as his person deformed, and lothsome to be looked upon’” (Lund, 2015) afterwhich he was buried in a lonely priority “‘without royal solemnity’” (Lund, 2015). In summary, his body was put on display for his enemies to gawk, jeer, and witness.
Certain descriptions of this manner of display provide further context for the purpose and meaning of the post-mortem display. For example, “the spiral configuration of scoliosis is exhibited in a protuberance in the back when the patient bends over, which would have been evident when, as the early Tudor historian Polydore Vergil put it, ‘Richard’s naked body was slung over a horse, its head, arms and legs dangling’” (Lund, 2015). This treated him more like a felled animal than a respected enemy. Therefore, “the evidence of Richard’s remains may thus indicate how far his vilified posthumous reputation was linked to the early moments after his death.
In comparison to the care and reverence often shown to kings during burial, “the treatment of Richard’s body was the antithesis of reverent ceremony, as the numerous accounts hostile to Richard take pains to show: the Crowland Chronicle mentions ‘many other insults too’” (Lund, 2015). This evidence points to how there was an inevitable frenzy and a need to exhibit this corpse, for others to see and witness not only the death but the body of the king to feed a lie with enough truth to make their narrative plausible. Thus, the idea of the monstrous body and the nature of Richard III was born and began to take root.
This was a turning point in Richard III’s legacy because, prior to his death, his illness was not mentioned at all. This was likely due to how he could have protected his illness from being revealed with a good tailor and custom-made armor, which would undoubtedly minimize the visual impact of his condition and therefore limit drawing attention to it in either the public or private spheres (Appleby et al., 2014). But why would he need to do that? Why was it so important, and why would it even matter to his allies or his enemies if his scoliosis was revealed?
This is because, in life, “the body of a mediaeval monarch was always under scrutiny, and Richard III's was no exception” (Lund, 2015). According to the book, Richard III’s Bodies From Medieval England to Modernity: Shakespeare and Disability History by Jeffrey R. Wilson, “historically, there are strong conceptual links between metaphysics and disability- between abstract theories of how and why the world works as it does and our all too particular bodies that often don’t work as we want. That’s why, writing in 1604, Joseph Hall cited sin in the Garden of Eden (moral deprivation) as the source of physical deformity in humans (natural deprivation): ‘At first, we were created vpright both soule and body, through sinne, we are become deformed both in soule and bodye.’ from the premodern perspective outlined by Neimanm the statement of Richard is evil covers both his body (a natural evil) and his behavior (a moral evil)” (Wilson, 2022). So, from this perspective, if the news of his physical deformity were to be revealed at this time, it would be seen as a bad omen, damning both his natural and moral character and thus, making him unfit to not only rule but likely hold any high office despite his born status. Such a revelation of his condition to the public might also have damaged the reputation of his close family members and even the Plantagenet name as a whole. He absolutely would not be allowed to rise to the rank of King of England as he was, in this worldview, both morally and naturally deprived.
Once his armor was removed, and his back was revealed, Richard III lost the control he had curated in keeping his condition a secret, and his legacy paid the price because he immediately became remembered more for his disability and the meaning it implied than as a King of England and any good he might have done when bearing the crown.
It was this revelation and the morbid display that likely sparked his unsavory moniker, “Crookback Richard.” As Lund states, “Thomas More describes Richard as ‘croke backed’ in the English version of his history of the king (the Latin version is more specific about Richard’s shape: ‘extanti dorso,’ with a projecting or prominent back). Shakespeare’s Richard is explicitly hunchbacked. In Henry VI, Part 3, he claims that nature made ‘an envious mountain on my back, / Where sits deformity to mock my body’ while in Richard III Queen Elizabeth calls him ‘that foul bunch-backed toad.’ Interestingly, in the second printing of this play – the second Quarto – ‘bunch-backed’ becomes ‘hunch-backed’” (Lund, 2015). Now, considering that “Shakespeare’s history plays make much of Richard’s physique: on his very first appearance on the stage, he is addressed as ‘heap of wrath, foul indigested lump/ As crooked in thy manners as thy shape.’” (Lund, 2015). As one can see, this particular physical feature was intentionally made public knowledge and sensationalized through Tudor propaganda, which was passed down through the centuries.
It seems that in fear of this sort of treatment, Richard III was adamant about hiding his illness, as he was acutely aware of its potential impact on his image, both before and during his reign. Lund discusses how, during his lifetime, no explicit notes of his physical description were recorded, save for one, from the “Silesian nobleman Nicholas von Poppelau, who described him as slim and lean, with fineboned limbs” (Lund, 2015). This description omits any mention of his potential shoulder-height difference, but that does not mean it was not present. Instead, it could be inferred that his condition was well hidden. “It is highly likely that Richard took care to control his public image. The body of the king was part of the propaganda of power, and as we have seen, even when it was revealed to be anointed, it was simultaneously concealed. Tailoring probably kept the signs of his scoliosis hidden to spectators outside the royal household of attendants, servants, and medical staff who dressed, bathed, and tended to the monarch’s body” (Lund, 2015). However, there was at least one person who undoubtedly knew of his condition.
It seems, according to the medical report, that Richard III would have begun experiencing the symptoms since he was approaching prepubescence because “the subtle nature of the changes in vertebral anatomy suggests onset in the last few years of growth, which is compatible with adolescent onset idiopathic scoliosis, probably starting after 10 years of age” (Appleby et al., 2015). Therefore, it would only have begun nearing the age of puberty. However, as he grew older, it would have become increasingly necessary to hide it, as its revelation could potentially damage not only his own standing but also that of his royal family in social, political, and religious matters.
However, Richard III was married. And his wife, Anne Neville, also kept the secret, likely in an interest to protect herself and her husband, and she, being married, would be drawn down alongside him if his ailment were to become public knowledge. Therefore, hiding the scoliosis would become more challenging, but necessary as the years passed, and crucial once he took the throne.
Thanks to the discovery of his physical remains, and the shift of perspective regarding the superstitious origins of scoliosis, illness, and disability In general, he narrative surrounding Richard III’s legacy has shifted greatly in the last decade which has sparked a wave of interest in the study of his life and the manner of his death, but also led to a complete modern rebranding of his legacy. This fresh look and perspective on Richard III can be seen in shows like The White Queen (2013), which portrays him standing out from his brothers with darker hair, darker skin, a shorter stature, and a stockier build than his other cast siblings, but it never directly addresses his scoliosis. However, it does pay tribute to the horrific manner of his death. Another film, a documentary, Richard III: The Princes In The Tower (2015), highlights the controversies surrounding Richard III and whether or not he killed his nephews, promoting his innocence. Even drama documentaries like The Princes In The Tower: The True Story from around that time also shift the blame directly away from Richard III and onto other historical figures. In this version of the story, Richard III’s actions are described as being those of a caring and loving uncle, rather than a brutal monster. Highlighting the whirlwind of new theories birthed from the discovery of his body and how this changed the modern study of him and his life. Yet, none of these modern representations, even the documentary, directly noted his disability. As if the historical pendulum had swung so far it didn’t even remember the centerpiece on which it balanced.
This could be interpreted as the identified disability became a shield rather than a tool of assumed damnation. An invisible banner bearing the warning words “go no further.” For his back condition was proven true, but the modern moral treatment of it has changed so much that at the time, what was a damnation is now the protection of his legacy.
However, rather than focusing on it, it is barely mentioned, if at all, in these modern public interpretations in films and historical fiction. It’s as if the scoliosis had very little impact on the king’s legacy, when in fact discovering its presence in the physical remains proves not only its relevance, but its importance to his behavior in life and the behavior and treatment he received from those around him in death.
It’s almost like proving the existence of his curved spine and the fact that that feature being such a focal point of the previous unfavorable narrative meant the scoliosis was, itself, untouchable. As in, to address or to show the scoliosis at all would immediately tie him back to the century-long smear of his reputation and the damnation of his name. Therefore, by doing so, whoever was responsible would unintentionally endorse such an ideology.
So, to avoid such an eventuality, it seems that explicit mention of his scoliosis was avoided entirely.
It’s as if not mentioning the scoliosis were a way to free him from it. As if it would be best to wipe the slate clean, even though scoliosis, one of the only undisputed facts presented in the bones of the fallen king himself, is the only factor that is left out in an effort to clean his legacy. It’s as if leaving out the disability in these narratives in the modern cultural consciousness proves his innocence when it once proved his guilt. So, instead, oftentimes in historical fiction or even history-based books or films, the matter of Richard III’s disability is simply not addressed.
Personally, I do not think his condition played a role in whether or not he had a hand in killing the princes, acquiring power, or ruling. I think it was a factor in his life that likely led to an increase in stress, especially after the death of his eldest brother. He also seems to have been isolated, surrounded by enemies, and in this precarious position, he made a choice to rule after he was offered the crown, a decision which, given his condition, he could easily be damned for, as it was used as a reason to support a list of deeds he may or may not have committed.
I do not see Richard III as a hero or a villain, but as a man, a king, who faced the world with a twisted spine and all the political, social, cultural, and religious responses that came with this ailment. We treat him today as if we are giving him personhood by denying his illness and making him a king first and his illness second. But it should be noted that not for an instant of his adult life could his condition have ever been “insignificant,” just as it certainly wasn’t after his death.
This is why, in the upcoming story I will upload to Substack tomorrow, I will endeavor not to portray Richard III’s condition as proof of his guilt, nor to depict him as a villain, nor to make him a hero and, by default, make his illness inconsequential. Instead, I try to make him a person who lived and died with his condition and had to make a fateful decision to take his crown despite knowing that his physical form, should it be revealed, would damn him and his legacy.
While most of the controversy surrounding Richard III, for centuries, depended on whether or not he had a condition, we often forget that his life and reign also depended on maintaining this delicate balance and the lengths he went to protect himself and those around him from this shame while he was alive. And that, I believe, makes him unique, admirable, and fascinating among the kings of the past.
Check in with my Substack tomorrow for a historical fiction take on Richard III’s decision to claim the throne.
Keep Ticking, My Friends!
What are your thoughts on Richard III? Who is your favorite monarch?
Stay tuned for Wednesday, when I post an article about accessibility and accommodation for CVD in museums and heritage settings.
Reference List:
Appleby, J., Mitchell, P.D., Robinson, C., Brough, A., Rutty, G., Harris, R.A., Thompson, D. and Morgan, B. (2014). The Scoliosis of Richard III, Last Plantagenet King of England: Diagnosis And Clinical Significance. The Lancet, 383(9932), p.1944. doi:https://doi.org/10.1016/s0140-6736(14)60762-5.
Appleby, J., Rutty, G.N., Hainsworth, S.V., Woosnam-Savage, R.C., Morgan, B., Brough, A., Earp, R.W., Robinson, C., King, T.E., Morris, M. and Buckley, R. (2015). Perimortem Trauma In King Richard III: A Skeletal Analysis. The Lancet, 385(9964), pp.253–259. doi:https://doi.org/10.1016/s0140-6736(14)60804-7.
Galassi, F.M., Habicht, M.E., Varotto, E. and Smith, D.L. (2023). Richard III’s Scoliosis Revisited. Spine. [online] doi:https://doi.org/10.1097/brs.0000000000004766.
Hall, J. (2017). The Grave of Richard III. [online] Historic UK. Available at: https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofBritain/The-Grave-of-Richard-III/.
Lund, M.A. (2015). Richard’s Back: Death, Scoliosis And Myth Making. Medical Humanities, 41(2), pp.89–94. doi:https://doi.org/10.1136/medhum-2014-010647.
Richard III: The New Evidence. (2014).
Richard III: The Princes In The Tower. (2015).
Shakespeare, W. (2009). Richard III. New York: W.W. Norton & Co.
Tey, J. (1951). The Daughter of Time.
The White Princess. (2017).
Wilson, J.R. (2022). Richard III’s Bodies from Medieval England to Modernity. Temple University Press.
#disability #history #richardiii #scoliosis #chronicillness #darkhistory #heritage