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The day he was born, he was never expected to be king. He was not celebrated with a glittering tournament like his elder brother, Edward, was. His birth wasn’t even mentioned by some chroniclers. Richard was not just the “spare” to the heir, for his father was the Black Prince, Edward III’s son and heir. Both his father and his grandfather were living legends in the realm and across Europe.
Later, it was lauded that Richard’s date of birth coincided with the baptism of Jesus Christ by St John the Baptist. It was also the feast of the Epiphany, celebrating when the three kings arrived with gifts for the infant Jesus. A further connection was made when three kings were in attendance at Richard’s baptism.
Soon enough, Richard’s life knew many tragedies. His father fell seriously ill in the year following Richard’s first birthday. His elder brother, Edward, died young. The French continued to take over lands in France as a part of the ongoing Hundred Years War.
With his queen having also died, Edward III became mentally and physically diminished. Leading members of his household, like his chamberlain and his mistress, started lining their pockets with money from the royal coffers. Month by month things got worse. All the while, Richard remained relatively secluded at Berkhamsted and Kennington with his mother and his ailing father. John of Gaunt, third son of the king and uncle to Richard, effectively took over the government. He too was vastly unpopular.
On 8 June 1376, the Black Prince died. “With his family at his bedside, he entrusted his wife and son to the care of his father and brother. At his urging, Edward and Gaunt solemnly swore that they would look after the boy and uphold his rights as heir to the throne” (Castor). Parliament also looked for reassurance from the king and John of Gaunt that the succession would definitely go to Richard.
Even at this early stage, the young Richard was lauded as a sort of messiah in England, meant to bring the country back from its losses and corruption:
“A little more than two weeks after the Black Prince’s death, the boy was led through the palace to the chamber where the lords and Commons were assembled. There the archbishop of Canterbury declared that, although his father was gone, ‘it was as if the same prince was still present and not absent, having left behind him such a noble and fine son who is his true image and very figure.’ In that moment, Richard stood alone for the first time on the political stage. He was nine and a half years old, and in the cocoon of his upbringing so far the fact that he was England’s “true heir” was the one essential lesson he had learned.”
Castor goes on to state that even a loud and grieved parliament stood still and in awe at his presence, which did not escape the boy’s notice.
January 27, weeks before his tenth birthday, Richard was sent in his grandfather the king’s stead to open Parliament.
“Holding himself with the royal dignity his mother and tutor required, Richard turned his attention… to the chancellor of England, the bishop of St. David’s, who rose to address the representatives of the realm. King Edward had sent Richard “to comfort and welcome you on his behalf,” the bishop declared, “in the same manner as the scripture says, ‘Here is my beloved Son, here is He who is wished for by all men.’” They were bound to do honor and reverence to the young prince “in the manner the pagans, that is to say, the three kings…did to the Son of God when they offered him gold, myrrh, and frankincense.” It was insistent and unsubtle, this rhetorical identification of England with the Holy Land, England’s king with God, and England’s heir with Christ: an attempt, made with desperation evident to any seasoned politician, at uniting a fractious and divided kingdom by appealing beyond current conflicts to an ideal of divinely sanctioned sovereignty.”
For much of his young life, this pattern continued. At his own coronation procession, when he was ten years old, the parade route was decorated as if it were the City of Heaven. The next day, at his coronation, he became “God’s anointed, forever set apart from other men.”
All of this did not escape the young man. What did escape him was anyone teaching him exactly what he was supposed to do as king other than pseudo-worshipped as God’s chosen. Eventually, it was his downfall.
Would you like to learn more about Richard II? I personally am fascinated by just how bad he was, but really it seems like it was the way he was raised to believe himself to be. I am thinking of writing more on him in addition to my on-this-day posts. Let me know in the comments if that would be something you’re interested in!
I also very highly recommend Helen Castor’s book, The Eagle and the Hart: The Tragedy of Richard II and Henry IV. I meant to use it as a reference about the early life of Richard of Bordeaux, but it was hard to put down!