Leicester where the Ground Penetrating Radar Survey was undertaken on 28 August 2011. The survey was commissioned by Philippa Langley and funded by the Richard III Society, founding members of the Looking for Richard project, members of the Scottish Branch and private investors.
But it was clear Buckley wasn’t convinced. ‘Archaeology is not about going in search of a famous person, it’s not what we do,’ he said. For one thing, there was the story of Richard’s bones being thrown into the River Soar. As I explained that this had been refuted by John Ashdown-Hill’s researches, I knew I was losing him: the River Soar tale was just too powerful. What about the Greyfriars Church, might that be of interest? I brought out my copy of the medieval map showing the Greyfriars Church opposite what was now the cathedral, and told him why I thought this would be at the northern end of the Social Services car park.
Buckley dismissed the map, asserting that medieval maps are notoriously vague, but he nonetheless sat up. Finding the Greyfriars Church would be of interest to him, because he could learn so much about medieval Leicester and the layout of these friary churches from it. As I pushed for my preferred site, using Ashdown-Hill’s research into mendicant priories’ locations beside major roads, Buckley agreed it was a possibility. After discussing the Christopher Wren report on Herrick’s garden and its marker column, then the open car park spaces, ripe for archaeological investigation, and the GPR survey, Buckley declared he would be happy to look for the Greyfriars Church. So it was settled that, while he searched for the church, I would search for the grave of a king. Unlike Buckley, I had no reputation to lose. I asked how he rated our chances of success. He said, ‘Fifty–fifty at best for the church, and nine to one against finding the grave.’ He was a glass half empty kind of guy, while I was the glass half full kind of girl. He asked what I thought the chances were: I replied, ‘Nine to one on for finding them both.’ He laughed, asking what had driven me to this search. I told him about my screenwriting, and hopes of seeing Richard’s real story brought to life. I didn’t tell him about my intuitive feeling. But it didn’t matter, because Richard Buckley was on board and beaming and I wanted to hug him. The Looking for Richard project had taken a giant leap forward.
Thomas Roberts’s map of 1741 with modern overlay of trenches. A formal garden is visible to the east of the three trenches, thought to be the garden of Alderman Robert Herrick.
However, there was still the urgent need to find funding. Buckley mentioned Leicester University and its not insubstantial research budgets. ULAS, though an independent body hiring its offices from the university, worked closely with it. Buckley called Richard Taylor, the university’s Deputy Registrar and Director of Corporate Affairs, who thought the project had merit, and understood that the ULAS academic research would be in quest of the church. He asked what might be required of the university. Hesitant to bring in such a powerful player on the funding side, I asked for their specialists and expertise to be made available to the project free of charge. Taylor quickly confirmed that I had only to let him know what I needed, so I immediately mentioned the DNA unit and Professor Mark Lansdale, Head of the Psychology Department. Taylor agreed and said that if I needed extra funding once the dig was under way, the university would help. I asked how much. ‘If you find the Greyfriars Church, the wallet will open,’ he replied.
In March 2011, on Buckley’s advice, I commissioned ULAS to undertake the Archaeological Desk-Based Assessment (DBA). This is the preliminary research document drawn up to determine the archaeological viability of a site. It would be based on historical research, including detailed map regression, and analysis of any potential ground