Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee.
Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch Have I pluck’d off,
to grace thy brows withal:Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.
Richard 3rd Act 5 Scene 3.
In the land of Three Kings.
Once more unto the breach…
Too much Shakespeare? I’m afraid you long suffering reader are going to have put up with. Yesterday we spent time in the land of the 3 kings. Now I should explain this is what I thought whilst driving around south west Leicestershire with my partner in all these adventures David Manley. It should be clear who the first two kings were Richard 3rd and Henry the 7th. But the third? Who could be that be? None other than King Liar.
More Shakespeare? I know I know but I can’t help it. We were working in Peckleton and it suddenly struck me about how ancient the countryside the village sits in. The village itself straddles alongside the Roman Leicester to Mancetter. This puts us in the mid 1st century but there are older locations in the area.
Close by is the Herewood or Leicester Forest. The name suggests its existence long before the arrival of the Normans. Could this be where Liar sat upon a blasted heath? To the west of the woodland was extensive heathland. I could go on. For the purpose of this post this is the land of Lear. This is also what Geoffrey of Monmouth thought as well when he recorded the story of Lear.
None of this proves anything other than sometimes my subconscious takes me to some unusual places. For this little blog that is fine.
Of course the true stars of the countryside around here are Richard Plantagenet, third of this name and Henry Tudor, the seventh king to be named thus. There are a series of sculptures scattered around the battlefield area between Sutton Cheney and Fenny Drayton. The best by far can be found in the Sutton Cheney church yard. It evokes the last night of Richard’s reign beautifully (I hope my photos above captures this even in some small way.)
The tourist industry in the area has never looked back since the remains of the last Plantagenet king were discovered exactly where the older maps sad they would. Despite being the heart Lancasterian England, it could be argued that the whole Wars of the Roses began in the bedrooms of Leicester castle about 100 years before Richard’s death. The City and County celebrate the last night and day of the King. Not sure how historically accurate irony is.
Expect more such rambles over the next few weeks and month as we slowly traverse around the district of Hinckley and Bosworth. I wonder whether we’ll finish this before the council is abolished? Only time will tell.
Pip Pip.
PS: We had lunch in a charming local pub, The George and Dragon, Stoke Golding almost next to where Lord Stanley is alleged to have uttered the speech at the start. Such are life’s little foibles.
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