Titans of History (23 page)

1452–85

And thus I clothe my naked villainy
With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ,
And seem a saint when most I play the devil
.

Richard III in William Shakespeare,
Richard III
, Act 1, scene 3

Richard III was the hunchbacked usurper whose infamous murder of his own two nephews, one of them the rightful king of England, brought about his own destruction. Since he lost his throne to the
Tudors, it was they who wrote the history of Richard III to assert the claim of their own dynasty, probably exaggerating his pitiless ambition and physical deformities.

Richard was the second son of Richard, 3rd duke of York, and Cecily Neville, daughter of Ralph Neville, 1st earl of Westmorland and granddaughter of John of Gaunt. An ugly child with protruding teeth, he grew up during the War of the Roses, fought between the rival dynastic houses of Lancaster and York. After the triumph of the Yorkists in March 1461, in a struggle that saw his father killed in battle, Richard's eldest brother became King Edward IV.

From 1465 Richard was raised in the house of his cousin Richard Neville, later known as the Kingmaker, although there is no reason to believe that young Richard set his sights on the throne at this stage. He gave every sign of loyalty to his brother Edward, for which he was duly rewarded, gaining land and positions of influence. After the Lancastrians had briefly reinstated Henry VI as king in 1470, forcing the York brothers into exile in The Hague, Richard joined Edward on his campaign of 1471, in which Henry VI was deposed for a second time.

An able general and skilled administrator, Richard was entrusted with control of the north of England during Edward's reign, and earned a reputation for fairness and justice. He acquired a string of castles in Yorkshire, Durham and Cumbria during the Yorkist campaigns, but his loyalty—shown for example in a successful campaign that Richard waged on Edward's behalf against the Scots in 1481—meant that the king tolerated his brother's growing influence.

In 1478, Richard may have allowed himself to dream of the crown for the first time when George, the middle York brother, was executed for treason, possibly at Richard's behest, thus removing another potential obstacle to the throne. But it was when Edward IV died unexpectedly on April 9, 1483 that his
ambitions were truly laid bare. Next in line to the throne was the twelve-year-old Edward V, followed by his nine-year-old brother, Richard of Shrewsbury, the two sons of the king's beautiful wife, Elizabeth Woodville. As the lord protector of the late king's will, Richard swore allegiance to his young nephew, but less than a month later he seized first Edward, then his younger brother, and imprisoned them both in the Tower of London.

Richard initially claimed he had seized the two boys for their own protection, and, on specious charges of treason, ordered the execution of those previously entrusted with their care. Just two months later, however, he had an announcement made outside St. Paul's Cathedral declaring Edward IV's marriage to Elizabeth Woodville illegitimate since, according to the testimony of an unnamed bishop, Edward was already secretly married at the time to his mistress, Lady Eleanor Butler. Richard forced an act through Parliament to annul the marriage posthumously, simultaneously bastardizing his nephews and clearing his own way to the throne. After quashing a brief uprising against him, he was crowned Richard III at Westminster Abbey on July 6, 1483.

To secure his position, Richard seized and brutally murdered several barons who might oppose his accession. He was acutely aware, however, that, as long as they lived, his two nephews would pose a serious threat to his rule, so it must have surprised no one when, in the summer of 1483, both boys were declared missing. By autumn, it was widely assumed they were dead and nobody doubted their uncle was responsible. According to Sir Thomas More, writing some years afterward, the two boys were smothered on the king's orders as they slept. It was not until 1647, when the skeletons of two children were discovered under a staircase in the Tower, that they were finally buried in Westminster Abbey.

That Richard had murdered the princes was accepted as true during his reign and regarded with horror even in those brutal
times. For contemporary chroniclers, deformity was sign of an evil character and Richard's actions in 1483 evoked the image of the startlingly ugly creature they described: buck teeth, excessive body hair from birth, a crooked back, withered arm and haggard face. According to one chronicler, he was tight-lipped and fidgety, “ever with his right hand pulling out of the sheath to the middle, and putting in again, the dagger which he did always wear.” Some historians believe that the chroniclers—serving as Tudor propagandists—may have exaggerated Richard's deformities, but it says much about his reputation that it is the nervy and sinister hunchback portrayed in William Shakespeare's
Richard III
that subsequent generations have come to know, “so lamely and unfashionable/That dogs bark at me as I halt by them.”

His chief Lancastrian rival, Henry Tudor—who later launched an organized campaign to blacken Richard's name and present him as a monster—collected an army on the continent and invaded England in a campaign that reached a climax at the Battle of Bosworth Field on August 22, 1485. The turning point of the encounter came when Henry Percy, the earl of Northumberland, refused to throw his reserves into the battle, while Richard's ostensible allies, Thomas Stanley, afterward the earl of Derby, and his brother, Sir William—who had been waiting to see which way the battle turned—intervened on the side of Henry. Though Richard continued to fight on bravely, hacking his way through the opposing army and very nearly reaching Henry himself, he was eventually encircled and killed by the poleaxe of a Welshman. The last Plantagenet king of England, Richard had reigned for just two years. Henry Tudor became Henry VII, his dynasty ruling until the death of Elizabeth I in 1603.

1452–98

The first city to be renewed will be Florence … as God elected the people of Israel to be led by Moses through tribulation to felicity … so now the people of Florence have been called to a similar role led by a prophetic man, their new Moses [Savonarola himself] … In the Sabbath Age men will rejoice in the New Church and there will be one flock and one shepherd
.

Girolamo Savonarola's “Sermon on the New Age,” 1490s

The Italian Dominican friar Girolamo Savonarola was a reactionary zealot and bigoted theocrat who vehemently opposed the humanism of the Florentine Renaissance. His “Bonfire of the Vanities” burned books and art he deemed immoral. Savonarola's “Christian and religious republic” was an intolerant, sanctimonious and murderous reign of terror.

Born and raised in the city of Ferrara (then the capital of an independent duchy), Savonarola received his first education from his paternal grandfather, Michele Savonarola, before moving on to university. His earliest writings already exhibited the mixture of pessimism and moralizing for which he would become notorious; the poems “
De Ruina Mundi
” (“On the Downfall of the World”) and “
De Ruina Ecclesiae
” (“On the Downfall of the Church”) are exemplary in this regard.

In 1475 Savonarola entered the Dominican order at the convent of San Domenico in Bologna. Four years later he transferred back to the convent of Santa Maria degli Angeli in his native Ferrara,
before finally becoming the prior of the convent at San Marco in Florence. It was here that he would earn his place in history.

From the outset, Savonarola denounced the political and religious corruption he believed to have permeated society. His Lent sermons of 1485–6 were especially vehement, and it was during those addresses that he began to call for the cleansing of the Church as a prelude to its reform.

In 1487 Savonarola left Florence for a time to return to Bologna as “master of studies,” but in 1490 he returned on the encouragement of the humanist philosopher Count Pico della Mirandola and with the patronage of Lorenzo de Medici, the ruler of Florence. Once back in Florence, Savonarola soon set about excoriating the very government that had made his return possible. In florid language, Savonarola heralded the approaching “end of days” and claimed to be in direct contact with God and the saints. He condemned the alleged tyranny of the Medicis, and prophesied the impending doom of Florence, unless the city changed its ways.

Such predictions seemed altogether vindicated when the French king, Charles VIII, invaded Florence in 1494. Lorenzo de Medici's son and successor, Piero, was driven out of a city, which was by then in the grip of Savonarola's demagoguery. With French support, a democratic republic was now established in Florence, with Savonarola as its leading figure. In his new role, combining political and religious power, he was determined to create a “Christian and religious republic.” One of the first acts of this new, wholesome republic was to make homosexuality punishable by death.

Savonarola intensified his criticism of the Roman curia—its corruption personified by the notorious Borgias—and he even went so far as to attack Pope Alexander VI's disreputable private life. At the same time, he urged the people of Florence to live ever more ascetic lives. The result of the latter exhortations was the act for which the priest became most famous—the Bonfire of the
Vanities, in which personal effects, books and works of art, including some by Botticelli and Michelangelo, were destroyed in a conflagration in Florence's Piazza della Signoria.

Even as Savonarola reached the height of his power and influence, domestic opposition to his rule was beginning to form. Pointing to his pronouncements against the papacy, these domestic opponents were able to secure the excommunication of Savonarola in May 1497. Beyond Florence, Savonarola was opposed not only by the corrupt Borgia pope, Alexander VI, but also by the duke of Milan—both of whom sought to overturn the king of France's regional ambitions.

When French forces withdrew from the Italian peninsula in 1497, Savonarola suddenly found himself isolated. His final undoing came in 1498, in a bizarre episode that reflected the zealous atmosphere he had done so much to create. A Franciscan monk had challenged anyone who refused to accept the pope's excommunication of Savonarola to an ordeal by fire. One of Savonarola's most committed followers had duly accepted the contest, the outcome of which would be decided by he who withdrew first (that person being the loser). In the event, the Franciscan failed to appear for the trial—formally handing Savonarola the victory. Yet many felt that Savonarola had somehow dodged the test. A riot ensued, in the course of which Savonarola was dragged from his convent and placed in front of a commission of inquiry, packed with his opponents.

Effectively placed on trial by papal commissioners, Savonarola was tortured into making an admission of guilt. He was then handed over to the secular authorities to be crucified and burned at the stake. The sentence was carried out on May 23, 1498, at the very spot on which the Bonfire of the Vanities had been lit, and where Savonarola had himself overseen the execution of various “criminals.” As his own pyre was lit, the executioner was reputed to have declared, “The one who wanted to burn me is now himself put to the flames.”

1451–1504 & 1452–1516

The King of France complains that I have twice deceived him. He lies, the fool; I have deceived him ten times and more
.

Ferdinand

They were probably the most successful royal partnership of their era. Isabella was the pious, solemn, red-haired, and blue-eyed queen of Castile, one of the kingdoms that made up Christian Spain, while Ferdinand was the shrewd, crafty, ambitious king of Aragon, another Spanish kingdom, and the ideal Machiavellian monarch. Their marriage in 1469 effectively created the kingdom of Spain by uniting Aragon and Castile (though actually the kingdoms remained separate units). The formation of Spain was just one of the couples' achievements. Spain, once almost completely ruled by the Muslims, who had created a blossoming Arab-Jewish culture, had been largely reconquered by crusading Spanish monarchs in what was known as
La Reconquista
. As the Christians gradually reconquered Spain, many of its Jews—known as the Sepharad, the Sephardis—and indeed Muslims, had converted to Christianity, or at least pretended to do so: these converts were called
conversos
. Clearly some remained Jews in secret but in all likelihood many converted wholeheartedly. Yet gradually the Christian powers in Spain became suspicious of these Jews as a taint in the blood of the Christians—were they really loyal? Were they traitors? The belief that they might represent a taint in the
Christian bloodstream was one of the first examples of the racial anti-Semitism that resurfaced in the late nineteenth century. The Inquisition, led by Torqemarda and backed by Ferdinand and Isabella, began its investigations and tortures.

In 1492, they completed this process when they conquered the last Islamic principality, the Emirate of Granada, a triumphant moment for the couple because they were completing the last crusade. Both regarded themselves as crusaders and indeed Isabella was accustomed to rule from a military camp. The last emir of Granada surrendered on the understanding that Muslims would have freedom of worship. The monarchs would soon go back on this promise, forcing Muslims to convert to Christianity. Then, literally days later, the two Catholic Monarchs—a title awarded them by the Pope—issued their Alhambra Decree, which ordered the Jews of Iberia to either convert to Christianity or face expulsion. Already under sustained persecution, many Jews probably did now convert, but the vast majority—somewhere between 30,000 and 80,000—had to leave Spain, beginning one of the most traumatic experiences in Jewish life between the fall of the Jerusalem Temple in AD 70 and the Holocaust of the 20th century. It seems that Ferdinand had calculated that the Jews would simply convert and was surprised by Jewish loyalty to their faith. Either way, Ferdinand and Isabella set off a tumultuous movement of people: they also expelled the Jews from their other kingdoms—Ferdinand ruled swathes of Italy—and other monarchs in Europe followed suit, expelling their Jews too. The Jews moved gradually eastward, thousands of them ending up in Poland—then one of the most tolerant kingdoms of Europe—in Holland, and the eastern Mediterranean, where many were welcomed by the Ottoman sultans, who settled them in cities from the capital Istanbul to Salonika. These Jews added to the growing Jewish populations of Poland and Ukraine but also became the Jewish
Sephardic communities of the Arab world: they often spoke Turkish, Arabic and their own special language—Ladino, a patois of Spanish and Hebrew.