Beyond Death

“History is written by the victors.” And never has this phrase been truer especially when it comes to Richard III.

For centuries, Richard’s name has been synonymous with tyranny, treachery, and cruelty. A deformed king, power-hungry, even capable of murdering his own nephews just to cling to the throne. This is the image etched in the minds of many, thanks to Shakespeare, of course, but also to a long chain of chroniclers, biographers, and propagandists.

But what happens if we start pulling the thread of this narrative?

Who really said all this about Richard III? And most importantly: why?

Behind the accusations are specific names: Polydore Vergil, Thomas More, John Morton… and finally William Shakespeare. All tied, directly or indirectly, to a single dynasty: the Tudors.

That same dynasty that had every interest in erasing the legacy of the Plantagenets and legitimizing their own rule.

But how was Richard’s black legend born? Let’s try to get to the root of the problem and find out who was the first to spread all the lies.
NOTE: If you don’t have time to read the entire post, I recommend scrolling to the bottom and reading just the summary of facts.


Polydore Vergil: the chronicler of the victors

Polydore Vergil was not English. He was an Italian humanist who arrived in England at the beginning of the 16th century, by direct invitation of Henry VII, the first king of the Tudor dynasty. And this is no small detail: Vergil was brought in specifically to write an official history of England. His task was to recount the past in a way that served the present, and that present was the reign of a man who needed to justify a violent and tenuous seizure of power.

In his most famous work, Anglica Historia, Polydore portrays Richard III as a ruthless tyrant, ambitious, physically deformed, and morally corrupt. It is the first written source that explicitly attributes the murder of the Princes in the Tower to Richard, insinuating that he had his young nephews killed to secure the crown.

But it’s essential to understand one thing: Vergil wrote after the events, when Richard had already been dead for years, and he did so in direct service to Richard’s enemy. He had not lived through Richard’s reign, nor had he known its key figures. Everything he wrote was second-hand, passed along by people who had every interest in spreading a certain version of events.

In short: Vergil was the voice of the Tudors. And his version of history was tailor-made to strengthen the myth of Henry VII as the savior of England from a cruel usurper.

Thomas More: Morton’s pen

One of the most influential accounts of Richard III’s character is often attributed to Thomas More: the History of Richard III, an unfinished work that would profoundly shape the collective imagination. It is one of the main sources Shakespeare would later draw upon. But there’s a problem: More was not a direct witness to the events.

When Richard III died in 1485, Thomas More was only seven years old. He was far too young to have known or judged the king in person. Yet the tone of his narrative is sharp, moralistic, decisive. He paints Richard as a man deformed in both body and soul, manipulative, cruel, and power-hungry.

But where did this information come from?

The key point is that More was raised at the court of John Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury and a staunch opponent of Richard. Morton was a key figure in Tudor propaganda, and many scholars believe that the depiction of Richard in More’s work was not More’s own invention, but rather the product of Morton’s narrative. In other words, it wasn’t More who wrote those things, it was Morton speaking through him.

It’s important to emphasize that More was not a historian, but a humanist and a brilliant writer. His account of Richard III has many features of a literary work, even satirical at times. Some passages seem more like reflections on power and corruption than a faithful historical report. But over time, these pages have been read as historical truth.

In summary: the version of Richard that emerges from More is filtered through Morton, and through a context in which historical truth took a backseat to a narrative that served the Tudors.

John Morton: the architect of the black legend

If there’s one name at the root of Richard III’s posthumous downfall, it is John Morton.

Morton was Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord Chancellor of England, and one of the most influential figures in the transfer of power from the Plantagenets to the Tudors. A cunning and ambitious man, deeply tied to the Lancastrian cause and closely connected to Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII. Not coincidentally, he was her spiritual and political mentor.

During Richard III’s reign, Morton was arrested for conspiring against the king and fled to Henry Tudor. After Henry’s victory at Bosworth, Morton was immediately rewarded and became one of the key men in the new court.

And it is precisely from this deep resentment toward Richard that Morton began spreading his defamatory narrative. A narrative that bears all the hallmarks of propaganda (and also of personal hatred, so for Morton, it was above all a personal matter): symbolic physical deformities, moral depravity, heinous crimes, including the now-infamous accusation of the murder of the Princes in the Tower.

But Morton didn’t just speak ill of Richard, he also shaped those who would go on to carry his version of the story.

Chief among them: Thomas More, raised in his household, educated with his stories. It is therefore highly probable that the terrible depictions of Richard we read in More’s account come directly from Morton’s own words.

In short, he is the original source of the poison.

And it is from him that the black legend takes shape, only to be copied, expanded, and turned into theatre.

Morton was not an impartial witness. He had every political and personal reason to discredit Richard, and he wielded them skillfully. His direct influence on More, and indirect influence on everyone else, is a crucial key to understanding how Richard III’s infamous reputation was born.

William Shakespeare: the playwright of propaganda

And now we arrive at the author who more than anyone else carved into the collective memory the image of Richard III as a monster: William Shakespeare.

His tragedy Richard III, written around 1592, is one of the most famous works of elizabethan theatre. A masterpiece, yes… but also one of the most distorted portrayals ever created of a historical figure.

In Shakespeare’s hands, Richard is a deformed and malevolent being, an evil genius who manipulates, murders, betrays, and conquers through sheer force of cunning. A Machiavellian figure before his time, a demon disguised as a man.

But where did Shakespeare draw his inspiration?

From earlier chronicles, most notably, Thomas More’s History of Richard III.

And thus, indirectly, from John Morton’s voice.

It’s a domino effect: Morton → More → Shakespeare.

And then there’s the political context in which Shakespeare was writing: he was serving the court of Elizabeth I, granddaughter of Henry VII, whose legitimacy to the throne rested on the defeat of Richard III.

Portraying Richard as the ultimate villain was not only theatrically effective, it was politically convenient. It was the perfect way to reinforce the image of the Tudor dynasty as the saviors of England.

And so, a theatrical text, built to entertain, not to inform, became, for many, historical truth.

A Richard deformed not only in body, but in soul, took the place of the real man. And for centuries, audiences believed that version.

All roads lead to John Morton

He is the origin of the lie. A man who had everything to gain from destroying Richard III’s image, and who knew how to do it with skill, using words as weapons and people as his messengers: Thomas More as the voice, Polydore Vergil as the chronicler, Shakespeare as the megaphone.

Richard III was the victim of one of the greatest smear campaigns in history. A political operation disguised as literature, theatre, and historical record.

But today, thanks to more attentive studies, new discoveries, and a growing historical sensitivity, we can finally begin to question it all, and restore to Richard the dignity that was denied to him.

(And for this, I ask historians for help, I beg them not to simply recount the facts and remain confined within their narrow vision, but to open their minds and see him as a man. To embrace all his facets and study him deeply without limiting themselves in any way.)

Now the question that naturally arises is: what if Morton was also behind the disappearance of the princes? After all, there was only one person who stood to gain from their disappearance: Henry Tudor.

But that’s a topic for another day.

THE FACTS IN BRIEF:

“The Chain of Lies: Who Really Wrote the History of Richard III?”

Polydore Vergil: the court chronicler in Tudor service

An Italian humanist called to the English court by Henry VII.

Commissioned to write a history of England (Anglica Historia), directly ordered by the new king.

It was a political job, not an impartial one: it had to justify the Tudor seizure of power, so he portrayed Richard as a usurping tyrant, to legitimize Henry’s victory at Bosworth.

The first documented mention of the murder of the Princes in the Tower being explicitly attributed to Richard? His.

Thomas More: Morton’s intellectual heir

His Account of the Life and Death of Richard III is often cited as a source, but:

More was too young to have personally known Richard: he was born in 1478, Richard died in 1485.

He was raised in the household of John Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury and fierce enemy of Richard.

So it is extremely likely that his “account” is actually a narrative learned (or instilled) by Morton himself.

His work is incomplete, and many scholars consider it more a satire or literary exercise than a historical document.

John Morton: the puppet master in the shadows

He was Lord Chancellor under Henry VII and Archbishop of Canterbury.

He was More’s mentor and the spiritual and political godfather of Margaret Beaufort, Henry Tudor’s mother.

He had every reason to hate Richard III: he was a supporter of the Lancastrian faction and likely involved in conspiracies against him.

He is the origin of the malicious rumors: he was probably the one who created the core of the black legend, which others then merely copied and amplified.

Shakespeare: the playwright in service of Tudor ideology

He wrote under the reign of Elizabeth I, granddaughter of Henry VII.

He drew inspiration from More’s chronicle (and therefore from Morton).

He portrayed Richard III as a grotesque and demonic character for dramatic purposes, of course, but always in line with Tudor propaganda.

Shakespeare did not invent: he staged a spectacle based on manipulated sources.

Let’s connect the dots: we can say with absolute certainty that we are dealing with a lie repeated so often it became truth.

Everything leads back to Morton, and to the Tudors. The lies about Richard are not the result of historical truth, but of a political strategy. Morton is the seed, Vergil and More are the branches, Shakespeare is the most poisonous fruit.

And so the next question we must ask is:

What if Morton was also involved in the disappearance of the princes?

After all, who had something to gain from their deaths? Richard… or Henry?

Like this? Support my work on Ko-fi and help me tell the stories no one else dares to: https://ko-fi.com/elizabethrasicci