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Brevity and Brexity: 
A Brief Look at English History

Written by Rick Archer
rick@ssqq.com
Last Update: January 2017

 

Rick Archer's Note: 

Due to my 2017 New Year's Resolution to become better known for my Brevity, the following is an extremely brief article about Brexit and Marla's upcoming 2017 cruise to Merry Old England... or, as I prefer to say... the Texas Renaissance Festival on the other side of the Pond.  

Last October, Marla and I visited Europe on our wonderful Greek Isles cruise. 

During our stay, we learned that Continental Europe is so mad at England over Brexit, they don't want to have anything to do with England anymore. 

In their minds, England doesn't belong in Europe.  Go jump in the Pond. 

 

 

Ireland and Scotland don't want England anymore either.  They never liked England to begin with and they still don't.  Both countries wish England would go away and leave them alone for good.  Do you blame them?   Of course not!

Keep in mind that Ireland and Scotland both voted to stay in the European Union.  Ireland and Scotland hold England responsible for the Brexit Fiasco.  Plain and simple, Brexit was England's fault entirely. 

Unlike Donald Trump who wants to make America Great again, Ireland and Scotland would prefer to take the 'Great' out of Great Britain and tell England where to put it.  I guess Scotland and Ireland aren't feeling very Greatful anymore. 

Understandably, England is feeling lonely and isolated.  She needs a friend.  As always whenever England is in trouble, the erstwhile Mother of America begins to look longingly in the direction of her former Colonies in North America.  Both the United States and Canada have responded with open arms, but the USA has been the more enthusiastic of the two.   And why is that?  Donald Trump.

Donald Trump wants to take Great from Great Britain and bring it over here to help make America Great again.   That has been part of his plan all along.  I am completely serious... feel free to tell this to any news channel and I have no doubt they will accept it as fact. 

 

I may be a hermit these days, but I still know stuff.  For one thing, I know that Texas is really big.  It is three times bigger than the United Kingdom. 

However, in the interests of humility, size isn't everything.  For example, Great Britain once ruled the world and Texas was once controlled by Mexico.  Some say it still is.  Build the Wall.

Speaking of Donald Trump, I am privy to inside reports that Donald... no stranger himself to Brexit-style elections... has invited England to forget about Europe and consider becoming part of North America instead.   England is said to be very tempted, especially after Trump promised to unite the countries with a series of floating Trans-Atlantic golf courses known as 'Putting on the Pond.'  No sand traps, but I hear the water traps will be very deep.   

This is pure synchronicity.  By amazing coincidence, my dear wife Mystic Marla predicted closer ties between America and England when she decided to schedule her 2017 British Isles cruise.   Although I have never visited England, this place is close to my heart.  My family roots on both sides are about as English as they come.  I am part Welsh and mostly English. 

I have a question.  How many of you know where 'America' got its name? 

Believe it or not, the name can be traced back to Amerigo Vespucci, an Italian mapmaker and navigator who followed in the footsteps of Columbus. After drawing some of the early maps of the New World, his name became associated with the two continents. 

 

Sad to say, even though I am English from top to bottom by heritage, I confess I do not know much about English history.  Curious, I decided to start by figuring out where its name came from.   

Was 'Eng-land' named for some guy named Eng?  Alas, I was disappointed.  There was no one named Eng. 

The 'Britons' were to the island as North America's Indians were to the Spanish, French, and English.  The Britons were the first occupants of 'Britony' and 'Brittany'.   The Britons were there long before Christ.  The Britons were the people the Romans fought back in the days of the Roman Empire.  It was the Romans who named the island 'Britannia'.

During their 400 years of occupation, the Roman influence on England was profound.  In that time, the Romans built walls, cities, forts and roads.  They set the laws and the customs that people lived by.  The Romans brought a sense of order to a land that had only known chaos.  Prior to the Romans, Britain was a disparate set of peoples with no sense of national identity beyond that of their local tribe.  In the wake of the Roman occupation, every 'Briton' became aware of their 'Briton-ish (British)' identity.   In other words, 'everyone who belongs here is British and everyone who doesn't belong here is Roman'.  

The Romans did the island a real favor by civilizing the place somewhat.  Interestingly, the Romans did the same thing for Spain and France.  England, France, and Spain dominated Europe for centuries simply because the Romans had been there to organize things.  Oddly enough, Germany remained disorganized.  Did you know that Germany did not become a country until 1871?   Can you guess why it took them so long? 

I know the answer... Germany was the only major European area that the Romans were never able to conquer.  Consequently 'Germania' as the Romans called it remained divided into hundreds of small territories until late into the 19th Century.  Can you guess who began the German Unification? 

Napoleon.  Once Napoleon kicked the Catholic Church out of 'Germania' and confiscated most of its lands, Germany was finally able to begin unification.  I am not a big fan of warfare, but it obviously serves a purpose.  I find that both disturbing and fascinating. 

Speaking of warfare, the Romans left Britannia when they had to go back and defend Rome against those nasty German barbarians who were swarming all over Western Europe in the 4th century.

 

However, Rome would never be forgotten.

Every generation of British inhabitant that followed the Romans - be they Angles, Saxons, Normans, Danes, Vikings - would strive to be the next Romans.  Each was trying to regain the glory of that long-lost age when Britannia began the long road towards being a unified island.

The Angles and the Saxons were the Johnny-come-latelies.  They were part of the barbarian invasion of Europe that took out the Roman Empire.  The Angles and the Saxons were two separate tribes who occupied adjacent territory in Southern Denmark and Northern Germany. 

For a while, the two tribes were content to stay where they were.  However, in the 5th century, as more barbarians moved into their area, they decided to migrate.  There are theories that suggest the two tribes became aware of the vacuum created by the departure of the Romans and moved west to take advantage. 

The Angles and the Saxons carved out territory to call their own along the eastern and southern coast of Britannia.   Historically, the Anglo-Saxon period denotes the period in Britain between about 450 and 1066, the dates of their initial settlement all the way up to the Norman conquest.

The 'Angles' migrated from Schleswig-Holstein, an area on the northern border of Germany and the southern border of Denmark.   The Angles mostly settled in the easternmost part of the island.  This area became known as 'East Anglia'.  Just to the north was 'Northumbria', another Angle-dominated area.   The North Sea currents would typically take any westward-bound ship leaving Denmark directly to these two spots.   The word 'Land' comes from German.  As one might guess, the 'Land of the Angles' was eventually shortened to 'Angle-Land' and then to 'England.'

The 'Saxons' were a Germanic people who occupied the area in Schleswig-Holstein just south of the Angles.  Since they were used to occupying land south of the Angles, the Saxons settled on areas to the south of East Anglia in places near to rivers or the sea which could be easily reached by boat. The Saxons used a river known as the Thames to occupy the settlement known as 'Londonium' that had been abandoned by the Romans.

 

The Jutes did not play as prominent a role in English history as the better known Angles and Saxons. 

That is because the Jutes were so well-established in the geographically favorable spot where Denmark lies today that they felt less pressure to move. 

That said, some of their people migrated as well.  These travelers generally settled in an area known as Kent.

 

   

The Anglo-Saxons would eventually take control of most of Britain, although they never managed to conquer Scotland, Wales and Cornwall.  

The word 'Folk' comes from 'Volk', the German word for 'people'.  Think 'Volkswagen'.  As the Saxons moved into southeastern, southern, and central parts of the island, they gave German names to their regions.  

NORFOLK were the north folk.
SUFFOLK were the south folk. 
The ANGLE SAXONS settled in ESSEX, home of the east Saxons
SUSSEX were the south Saxons
WESSEX were the west Saxons.

There were so many of these Angles running the place that the island became known as ANGLIA, then ANGLE LAND, then ENGLAND.  

The stretch of water between England and France was used so often by the Angles that it came to be called the 'Channel of the Angles', later shortened to the ENGLISH CHANNEL. 

Although France used the same waters, the Angles... or 'Anglish' or English if you prefer... used these waters a lot more for an obvious reason.  The English were a seafaring people... or they would not have gotten to this island in the first place.

 

   

One might ask if the word 'Angel' and 'Angle' are related.   Apparently not.  'Angel' comes from the Latin word 'angelus' which comes from the Greek word 'angelos'.

This makes complete sense because the Angles were no Angels.  In fact, the Angles were a fierce, warlike people who would murder anyone who got in their way.  Sad to say, but the English were a cruel and brutal people from the very start.  Ask the Scots and the Irish if you doubt my words.  Or ask how many Indians were massacred by English colonialism in India and North America.

France would no doubt also agree with my assertion that the English were a rough bunch as well.  If ever there were two countries that did not get along very well, that would be England and France.  Oh my gosh, those two have been going at it for centuries.  Did you know that France and England are only 20 miles apart?   At a spot near Dover (England) and Calais (France), the distance is so short that people actually swim across the English Channel.  People with binoculars can actually watch someone swim the entire distance.

This proximity has led to many a battle between the two countries.  At one point France and England were at war with each other for over 100 years.  As a bit of history, The Hundred Years' War was a long struggle between England and France over who would succeed to the French throne.  The conflict lasted on and off from 1337 to 1453, so it might more accurately be called the '116 Years' War.'   But that's not a very catchy name, is it?   

As it turns out, English history is very interesting.  So I researched several of the highlights to include in this article.  However, before we begin, let's find out how much you know about English history. 

We will start with a fun question.  During the Hundred Years War, the most famous battle in English-French history was won by England due primarily to the Archers.  Can you name the battle?

Do you know who the Black Prince was?

Do you know what the Hundred Years War was fought over?

Do you know what the War of the Roses was about?

Who spoke 'A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse?'

Why is the date 1066 important?

What English monarch murdered the closest claimant to the throne only to later name their child to be succeed them? 

Who was the most over-rated King in English history? 

What was the name of the battle that ended the War of the Roses?


Are you curious to know the answers?  If so, read on!
 

William the Conqueror and the 1066 Battle of Hastings

One of the reasons English history is so fascinating is that there was always so much drama surrounding the King.  There were certain periods when there was no clear successor to the throne.  Two, three, maybe even four people might have a legitimate claim to the throne.   Consequently there were plots, rebellions and assassination attempts galore.  There was always someone new scheming  to get rid of the current King and put someone else on the throne.  

the Battle of Hastings was a perfect example of the chaos that ensued every time an English King or Queen died.  The English loved war so much that transitions were basically an open invitation to renewed bloodshed.  Sort of like America today... just kidding.

So what was the Battle of Hastings all about?

King Edward the Confessor was childless.  His death in January 1066 set up a succession struggle between several claimants to his throne.  Harold was crowned king shortly after Edward's death, but faced multiple threats.  First came Tostig, his own brother who had been exiled.  Tostig persuaded Norwegian King Harald Hardrada to join him in the fight.  There were two battles in September 1066.  Tostig and Hardrada won the first round, but Harold won the rematch, killing both Tostig and Hardrada in the process. 

   

Now Harold had to face William of Normandy.   Normandy, of course, is where D-Day took place in 1944.  Normandy lies right across the English Channel 100 miles to the south of England. 

William wanted to be the next King of England.   William claimed that both Edward and Harold had promised him the throne, but English supporters of Harold challenged this.  Basically, William had no real claim to the throne, but that didn't matter.  As always, 'Might makes Right.'  

While William was building ships in Normandy, he also assembled an invasion force.  The fleet sailed 60 miles from the mouth of France's Somme River in October 1066 and landed on the English coast near Hastings, a town 50 miles southeast of London.

King Harold of England met William's army just north of the coastal town of Hastings.  The two sides were evenly matched.  Consequently the battle lasted all day from morning to sunset.

Early efforts of William's invaders to break the English battle lines had little effect, so the Normans tried a trick.  They pretended to flee in panic and led their pursuers into a trap.

Harold was one of the victims.  Legend says he was shot in the eye with an arrow.  His death near the end of the battle led to the retreat and subsequent defeat of his army.

   

A little known fact is that Harold's defeat at Hastings was attributed to his appalling lack of Archers.  Makes perfect sense to me.  Everybody knows how important Archers are. 

After a few cleanup skirmishes, William was crowned as the English king on Christmas Day 1066.  And there you have it... a Frenchman sat on the English throne.  The world had turned upside down.  

William spent his entire life dealing with the shame of being born a bastard.  Even to his death, there were whispers about his ignoble birth.  Rumor has it that even his eventual wife snubbed him over this issue.

When William asked for the hand of Matilda of Flanders, a granddaughter of France’s King Robert II, she demurred due to his illegitimacy. According to legend, the snubbed Duke tackled Matilda in the street, pulling her off her horse by her long braids. In any event, Matilda consented to marry him.  Matilda would go to bear her Conquering husband 10 children.  Maybe there is something to be said for the Tarzan approach.

   

The Anarchy, 1135-1154

   

The Anarchy was a lawless time in England more or less like America's Wild West.  No one was really in charge.  The problem began problem started 70 years earlier when William the Conqueror, a Frenchman of sorts (Viking bloodline, birth on French soil), became King of England following the Norman Conquest in 1066. 

The repercussions were profound as the invasion created an Anglo-Norman elite, i.e. French barons whose main interest was in France, but used their money and power to obtain territory in England.  In other words, England became something of a French colony.  These barons now had estates and holdings in France as well as in England. 

To understand medieval France and England, realize that 'Kings' in both countries had only limited power.  The barons all had smaller Kingdoms of their own complete with armies and castles.  Sometimes they obeyed the King, sometimes they didn't. 

The most powerful English barons typically lived back in France and visited England from time to time.  France itself was a loose collection of counties and smaller political units that were under only the minimal control of the French king.  In other words, England was very disorganized and France wasn't really all that much better. 

Therefore, the barons ran wild.  Like little piggies, these barons wanted to rule over as much land as possible no matter what the cost.  The easiest way to get land was to pick a fight.  

William II and Henry I were the sons of William the Conqueror who took over after his death.  They were called 'Kings', but really they were more like the biggest baron of all.  They called the shots, but rebellion was always a problem.   The Anarchy began when Henry I died suddenly.

 

Geoffrey Plantagenet and Empress Matilda

   

The story of The Anarchy begins with Empress Matilda. 

One of real problems with deciphering English history is that English Kings were unimaginative when naming their heirs.  There were eight Henrys.  There were eleven Edwards.   Henry and Edward and Edward and Henry.  On and on.  Good grief, there were more Edwards and Henrys than there are Star Wars episodes.  If it wasn't for Roman numerals, I don't know what the English would do.

Even the women got in the act.  William the Conqueror had four Matildas... his wife Matilda of Flanders, his daughter Waltzing Matilda, his daughter-in-law Matilda of Scotland, and his granddaughter Empress Matilda

   

Here is the funny thing.  For a long time there, I thought I was reading about the same woman.  After all, how many Matildas can there be in history?  Then I got suspicious when the stories didn't make any sense.  It took me 20 minutes of cross-checking to suddenly realize there were four of them!

Empress Matilda's father was Henry I, the youngest son of William the Conqueror.  Henry I suffered a terrible misfortune when his two sons drowned.  This took place when the White Ship sank on its way from France back to England.  Stripped of his two male heirs, Henry I broke tradition and specifically named his daughter Empress Matilda to be his successor.

So why was Matilda an Empress?  Matilda had once been married to a German king who was named ruler of the Holy Roman Empire.  This made her the Empress of the Holy Roman Empire, an institution in continental Europe under the jurisdiction of the Catholic Pope.  However, her husband's death had sent Matilda back to England as a widow at 23. 

Matilda was eventually forced to marry Geoffrey Plantagenet, the Count of Anjou, a wealthy French landowner.  Matilda was very unhappy about this.  For starters, she was 25 and Geoffrey was only 13.  She had once been an Empress, now she was marrying down to a mere Count.  Boo hoo hoo. 

Matilda's father pointed out that this marriage would combine two of the most powerful Anglo-Franco families ... the Normans and the Plantagenets.  Henry I chose Geoffrey to sire his grandchildren because his lands were strategically placed on the Norman frontiers and he required the support of Geoffrey's father, his erstwhile enemy, Fulk of Anjou. He accordingly forced his highly reluctant daughter to marry the fifteen year old Geoffrey.

Matilda wasn't happy about it, but she got with the program and married Geoffrey.  The pair disliked each other from the outset of their union and neither was of a nature to pretend otherwise and so the scene was set for an extremely stormy marriage. They were, however, finally prevailed upon by the formidable Henry I to do their duty and produce an heir to England. They had three sons, Henry was the eldest of these and always the favourite of his adoring mother.

Eight years after her 1127 marriage to Geoffrey, things got interesting.  Matilda's father Henry fell ill and died suddenly in 1135.  This meant Matilda was now the heir to the English throne and the ruler of Normandy.  Unfortunately, the English barons who had vowed to support the accession of Matilda to the throne reneged.  Stephen of Blois was a well-known, popular figure among the barons of Anglo-Norman society.  He also had the advantage of being right across the English Channel when news of the king's death was spread.  Meanwhile Matilda was stuck in the center of France and unable to press her case in person. 

Stephen was attractive to the English barons for two reasons.  One, he was not only the direct grandson of Henry I, the king had always treated Stephen as a favorite.  Second, these men were not too keen on putting a woman on the throne.  The English Council acted like they were still stuck in the Dark Ages and denied Matilda the crown.  They stepped aside and allowed Stephen, Matilda's cousin, to seize the throne instead.  Matilda had been cheated of her crown.

Matilda was royally irritated.  It did not help that Matilda was haughty, disagreeable and ill-tempered by nature.  So naturally Matilda went to war against Stephen.  That's what everyone did back in those days.  It didn't do her much good.  She won a few battles, lost a few battles, then got frustrated and gave up.  The Anarchy was not going in her favor at all.  By the late 1140s the active phase of the civil war was over. In a huff, she returned to France and fumed.  Stalemate. 

Matilda was determined to have the last laugh.  As it turned out, Matilda had a strapping son at home.  Henry Plantagenet was her son by Geoffrey Plantagenet.  Born in 1133, he was three years old when his mother was cheated of her inheritance.  By age nine, Matilda had Henry fighting at her side.  However, they just couldn't seem to break though. 

Then someone new appeared.  Matilda would receive help from an unexpected source... a woman her husband had just had a fling with. 

   

Geoffrey Plantagenet of Anjou

 

Geoffrey Plantagenet was a powerful man who ruled over his ancestral domain of Anjou.  The House of Plantagenet had extensive land holdings in France. 

Through her birthright to William the Conqueror, Matilda also had extensive claims in Normandy which was neighbor to Anjou.  Count Geoffrey had little interest in England, but he was very interested in Normandy.  Geoffrey initiated a war to obtain the duchy of Normandy, but it was slow-going.

It became clear to Geoffrey that Stephen would need to be challenged in England in order to bring his own conflict to a successful conclusion.  So in 1139 Matilda invaded England. From the age of nine, their son Henry was repeatedly sent to England to be the male figurehead of the campaigns.  This made sense since Henry would become king if England could be conquered.

While his wife Matilda was off in England fighting Stephen, Geoffrey invaded Normandy on behalf of his wife.  The Norman barons initially opposed him, not through loyalty to King Stephen, who had only visited Normandy on but one occasion, but from hatred of their traditional enemy, Anjou. 

While Geoffrey was attempting to conquer Normandy, he was also forced to put down three rebellions in Anjou created by his younger brother.  The threat of rebellion not only slowed Geoffrey's conquest of Normandy, it is the main reason he could not intervene in England to aid his wife. 

 
Eleanor of Aquitaine
 

Eleanor of Aquitaine (1122-1204) appeared in the middle of Matilda's fight in England and Geoffrey's fight in Normandy and Anjou.  Life would never be the same. 

Eleanor, Duchess of Aquitaine, is a determined woman who plots and schemes an astonishing path between two equally powerful men in twelfth century Europe This is a woman who can maneuver and manipulate to safeguard her own lands as effectively as any power-grasping lord. Eleanor is single-minded in her struggle to keep her inheritance intact, leading her to reject one husband and take another who will fulfill her desires.

Eleanor intends to reign as Queen and is prepared to bring scandal down upon herself in pursuit of her ultimate prize. Hers is a story of power, political intrigue, passion and love.  This restless queen will sweep across the 12th century, changing the face of Europe.
 

Eleanor's story is fascinating.  She was the daughter and heir of the imperious William X, Duke of Aquitaine and Count of Poitiers.  Her father possessed the largest domains in northwest Europe, indeed larger than those held by the king of France, Louis VI from the House of Capet. When her father died in 1137, Eleanor, 15, came into her inheritance.  Complying with the dictates of a territorial agreement, she married Louis VII, heir to the French throne.  Barely a month after the wedding, King Louis VI died, thrusting Eleanor’s 16-year-old groom to the throne of France.

Eleanor found court life as queen of France stultifying. Her timid, sweet-tempered and devout husband exasperated her.  Formed during her childhood at the court in Poitiers where she was rarely disciplined and always admired, her strong ego impelled Eleanor to create a lofty royal vision for herself, one that did not encompass the subordinate role as queen of France.

   

After a decade of marriage to Louis, she was as beautiful and capricious as ever, but even more headstrong and domineering toward her husband.  From 1147 to 1149 Eleanor insisted on accompanying him during the Second Crusade.  Apparently the adventure carried a rude awakening... Crusading was no fun. 

According to Simon Schama, “Eleanor was dismayed to discover that crusading was an arduous, pious business. She quickly developed an unhealthily warm relationship with her uncle, the slightly impious Raymond of Poitiers.”  While her husband fought battles in the Holy Land, Eleanor spent her time in arms of Raymond in complete comfort for the duration of the crusade.  This understandably caused an estrangement.

Though at one time Louis had adored his wife, after 15 years of marriage he was willing to let her go for the sake of the Capetian royal line.  Eleanor had not borne him a son and heir, only two daughters.  Eleanor, on cue, illuminated her predicament, explaining that her husband’s infrequent visits to her bed accounted for the fruitlessness of their union. In the end, the marriage was annulled on the convenient grounds of consanguinity: Eleanor and Louis were too closely related for the church to tolerate.

 

As Duchess of Aquitaine, a massive duchy in southwestern France, Eleanor was the most eligible bride in Europe.  Men came calling.

Following the dissolution of her marriage, Eleanor regained possession of Aquitaine and Poitou. This wealth combined with her loveliness attracted suitors well before the annulment was final, one of whom was Henry of Anjou (a domain bordering Poitou), soon to be known as Plantagenet.

One of the men who came calling was Geoffrey of Anjou.  Most historians agree that Eleanor and Geoffrey were sexually intimate.  Historian Schama notes, “It was rumored that Geoffrey of Anjou had personally verified Eleanor’s appetite for passion before recommending her to his son.”

Now Henry, Geoffrey's son, came calling as well.  The 30-year-old Eleanor and 18-year-old Henry felt passionately attracted to one another.  Henry’s unsurpassed physical courage and keen political acumen resonated with Eleanor’s ambition for power.  Another attractive feature was that Henry, now the Duke of Normandy and Anjou, could very likely become the next King of England. 

Asked some years before to assess Henry’s chances of success of becoming King of England, St Bernard of Clairvaux said of Henry that ‘from the Devil he came, and to the Devil he will surely go’.  

It did not matter that Henry was reported to be the spawn of Devil.  That suited Eleanor's tastes just fine.  Not exactly a shrinking violet herself, Eleanor chose to be the Devil's consort.

Eight weeks after her annulment, Eleanor married Henry in 1152.  Instantly the marriage doubled the land holdings of Europe's new power couple.

Over in Paris, Eleanor's former husband Louis VII flipped out.  Louis not only considered the marriage an insult to him, he was also infuriated because Henry now possessed a much larger proportion of France than Louis did himself.

 

Henry Plantagenet becomes King

   

Strengthened by his 1152 marriage to Eleanor, Henry Plantagenet wasted no time going back after Stephen. Henry's mother Matilda was still seething over her cousin Stephen's theft of her crown.  Based on Matilda's strong claim to the English throne, Henry had a powerful claim of his own.  Indeed, his grandfather Henry I had once called him the future king of England. 

Under the reign of the usurper Stephen, for the previous twenty years the Anglo-Norman realm had suffered through a civil war fought out between the adherents of Stephen and those of Henry’s mother, the Empress Matilda.  In this time, lawlessness prevailed.  It was every man for himself.  Northern England had been seized by the Scots. The Welsh had made substantial advances in the West.  England itself had been partitioned between warring baronial factions, each with its own competing and still unresolved claims to land, castles and local power. 

The fighting between Henry and Stephen continued, but no one could get the upper hand for long.  Finally, the two armies met at Wallingford to begin fighting the battle to end all battles.  Taking note that neither side had an advantage and that lots of men, barons included, were about to die, cooler heads prevailed.  The Anarchy had been going on for 20 years.  Enough was enough.  Since neither side's barons were keen to fight another pitched battle, the barons had an idea... why not ask the clergy to broker a peace? 

So, much to the annoyance of Henry and Stephen, the battle was postponed.  Stephen began to examine a negotiated peace, a process hastened by the sudden death of Eustace, his son and heir.  In the Treaty of Winchester, Stephen recognized Henry as his heir in exchange for peace.  Stephen conveniently died the following year in 1954.  Henry was King; Matilda was vindicated.

   

Henry II and the Plantagenet Dynasty

Ruling from 1154-1189, King Henry II would emerge as one of England’s, indeed as one of Europe’s, greatest kings.  The Plantagenet dynasty founded by Henry II would hold the English throne for three and a half centuries (1154-1485), starting with the 1154 accession of Henry II and lasting until 1485 when Richard III died.

King Henry III was the grandson of Henry II through King John.  Henry III had two sons... Edward I and Edmund Crouchback.  ANGEVIN KINGS

The House of Lancaster was a branch of the royal House of Plantagenet. The first house was created when Henry III created the Earldom of Lancaster—from which the house was named—for his second son Edmund Crouchback in 1267. 

Over time, the House of Lancaster subdivided into two wings.  The 1359 marriage of John of Gaunt from one wing of the House of Lancaster to Blanche from the other wing of the House Lancaster reunited the two wings.  Starting in 1399, the House of Lancaster would give birth to three future kings.

Meanwhile, King Edward III was the grandson of King Edward I.  As we shall see, Edward III was a pivotal figure in English history.

Edward III named John of Gaunt, one of his sons, the Duke of Lancaster

Edward III named Edmund, another other son, the Duke of York

Edward III had yet another son, Lionel, whose descendent Richard, Duke of York, would play a key role in English history. 

Are you following all this?  If you haven't already guessed, English history is very complicated.  So let me simplify things a bit.

The bottom line is that the Angevin kings... Henry II, Richard I, John I... were Plantagenets.  The Plantagenet kings... Henry III, Edward I, Edward II, Edward III, and Richard II... were Plantagenet kings.  The Lancaster kings... Henry IV, Henry V, and Henry VI... were Plantagenet kings.  The York kings... Edward IV, Edward V, Richard III... were Plantagenet kings.  The Tudor kings and Queen Elizabeth were Plantagenets as well.  

It all started with Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine. 

   

Henry II and the Angevin Empire

   

The term 'Angevin' is a reference to the duchy of 'Anjou', birthplace of Henry II.

Thanks to a perfect storm of good luck, Henry came to rule over the most extensive collection of lands that had ever been gathered together under an English king.

From his father, Geoffrey, Henry succeeded to rule over Anjou, Maine and the Touraine: the counties of the Loire valley that had previously blocked Anglo-Norman ambitions in the South.

From his mother, Matilda, daughter and sole surviving legitimate child of the last Anglo-Norman King, Henry inherited his claim to rule as king in England and as duke in Normandy.

From his wife Eleanor, Henry found himself in possession of a vast estate in southwestern France, stretching from the Loire southwards through Poitou and Gascony to the frontiers of Spain.

This was an empire in all but name.  Henry's lands stretched from the Cheviots to the Pyrenees, and from Dublin in the west to the frontiers of Flanders and Burgundy in the east.  And this all just for starters.  Henry would acquire more lands throughout his reign. 

   


Henry II of Anjou was more French than he was English. His native tongue was French.  A brilliant soldier, he extended his French lands until he ruled most of France. With territory stretching from sea to shining sea, by the late 1170s, Henry ruled an estate that eclipsed anything that had been seen in France since the time of Charlemagne and in Britain since the fall of Rome. In its cultural and political sophistication, Henry’s dominion badly outshone the Capetian kings of France. Louise VII, struggling to maintain his rule over the immediate vicinity of Paris, could only look on in astonished but for the most part impotent amazement. Henry had set England on a path to becoming one of the world’s most dominant nations.

So was Henry II a happy guy? One can only wonder. Henry would prove to be a very controversial king.  Although he had succeeded in wresting control of England from the barons who had gotten too big for their britches, he quarreled with everyone under sun including his wife, his sons, the barons, Thomas Becket, and King Louis of France.

Henry quarreled a lot his wife.  By temperament Eleanor was just as fiery as Henry, and as determined to stake her own claims to rule.  Despite their turbulent marriage, they did find the time to produce eight children, mostly notably King Richard I the Lionhearted, the son who would succeed his father. 

Henry had one very bad habit.  He did not like to share his lands.  He did not share his inheritance with his brothers and he had trouble sharing his estates with his sons.  Naturally his sons turned rebellious.  And when they did, his wife took their side.  As a result, Henry’s domestic life was far from tranquil.  Henry lost his temper with Eleanor and had her imprisoned under house arrest for sixteen years.  She would not be freed until his death in 1189. 

Henry is remembered for his quarrel with Archbishop Thomas Becket.  After Becket's subsequent murder in Canterbury Cathedral on 29th December 1170, his sons turned against him, even his favorite son John.  Henry II spent all his later years fighting wars with his own sons.  Henry II died a bitter man, hated by practically every noble on either side of the English Channel.

 

The Legend of Eleanor Lives On

 

Eleanor was Queen of England for 44 years (1154–1189)Over the first thirteen years, she bore Henry eight children: five sons, three of whom would become kings; and three daughters.

However, over time Henry and Eleanor became estranged.  Henry imprisoned her in 1173 for supporting her son Henry's revolt against her husband.  In 1173, Eleanor’s son “Young Henry” fled to France.  He was apparently plotting against his father to seize the English throne.

Eleanor was rumored to be actively supporting her son’s plans against her estranged husband,.  She was arrested and imprisoned for treason. Once apprehended, she spent the next 16 years shuttling between various castles and strongholds in England.  She was constantly suspected of agitating against her husband’s interests.  Some even say she played a role in the death of Rosamund, Henry's favorite mistress.

Eleanor was not released until 6 July 1189, when Henry died and their son ascended the English throne as Richard I.

 

After Henry's death, Eleanor became a babysitter of sorts for her son Richard who went off to play in the Crusades..  Eleanor ruled the country as Regent in Richard’s name while he led the Third Crusade.

Eleanor lived to the remarkable age of 82.  She was able to see her youngest son John crowned king after Richard’s death and was employed by John as an envoy to France.  Eleanor would eventually retire as a nun to the abbey at Fontevraud, where she was buried upon her death in 1204.

Endowed with intelligence, creative energy and a remarkably long life, Eleanor of Aquitaine played a major role in the 12th century.  This was an impressive achievement given that medieval women were considered nothing more than chattel.  Her intelligence and enterprise served her well in the chaos of the time as she negotiated the unrelenting hostilities between Plantagenets and Capets, crusades and struggle between church and state.  In a ruthless era, Eleanor stood tall. 

Too bad her sons didn't inherit her cunning.  It had to be a terrible shame to see her sons, Richard the Lionheart and King John turn on their father and then later against each other.  Together they brought the Angevin dynasty to the edge of annihilation.

   

Who is the Most Over-Rated King in English History?


Let's start this question by playing the Name Game. 

My full name is 'Richard James Archer.'  English names hang like ornaments throughout my family tree.

'James' is my father's name.  James is the most common male first name in all of Britain.  James is a royal name associated with the Scottish house of Stewart.  James I of Scotland was the man who succeed Queen Elizabeth I in 1603.  King James was a patron of the arts as well as a talented ruler.

'Mary' is my mother's name.  Mary is the most common female first name in all of Britain.   The name Mary is sprinkled throughout English and Scottish history.  Bloody Mary, Mary Queen of Scots, William and Mary, and of course the beloved Queen Mary III.  Queen Mary and her husband King George V ruled during World War II.   Queen Mary was the mother of the current Queen Elizabeth. 

'William' is the fifth most common male English name.  William was the name of my grandfather and one of my uncles.  William is everywhere in English history.  For example, William the Conqueror.  Remember him?  William changed the history of the world thanks to his conquest of England in 1066 at the Battle of Hastings.

'Richard' is a name of Germanic origin, derived from 'ROC' which means 'power' and 'HARD' which means 'hardy'.  That's me all right, Rock Hard Richard!  So let's see how the most famous Rock Hard English King of them all fared.  'Richard' has been the name of four different English Kings, two of whom were rotten, one of whom became Shakespeare's greatest villain and the fourth is considered the most overrated King in English history.   By the way, I was named for the over-rated one. 

   

King Richard the Lionheart

   

And that brings us to 'Richard I', better known as King Richard the Lionheart, the most famous Crusader of all! 

(Let us pause for the trumpets to blare!)

According to my mother, King Richard the Lionheart was the man I was named for.  I was very proud to be named after the illustrious English King. 

According to my father, our surname 'Archer' descended from Robin Hood and his Merry Men.  

Gullible little critter that I was, wow, here I was... part Richard the Lionhearted and part Robin Hood!!  

Alas, if only we could have stopped with the Adventures of Robin Hood starring Errol Flynn as Robin and Olivia de Havilland as Maid Marian. 

That was defining movie of my childhood.  3 Oscars!  Much acclaim! 

   

In the movie, Robin Hood becomes my hero.  He is depicted as a heroic outlaw folklore who, according to legend, is a highly skilled archer and swordsman.  Traditionally dressed in Lincoln green, he is portrayed as a champion of the downtrodden, "robbing from the rich and giving to the poor" with the help of his loyal band of Merry Men. 

He fights off the bad guys, keeping the Sheriff of Nottingham and evil Prince John at bay while noble Richard is away at the Crusades. 

Then Robin Hood comes to the rescue of King Richard when he returns.  There is a joke in Hollywood that King Richard had an amusing nickname... Richard of the Last Reel.  Film buffs love to make fun of the fact that Richard appears at the end of every Robin Hood film as the heroic, and supposedly victorious, crusader monarch returning to punish treacherous Prince John and the wicked Sherriff of Nottingham.

Action!  Adventure!  Courage!  Chivalry!  History!... well, not so much history.  To begin with, there are strong rumors that Richard did not even speak English.  In his whole reign, he spent no more than six months north of the Channel.  For that matter, imagine my pain when I discovered Robin Hood... the man who was the most famous Archer in English history... may not have actually existed.

The subject of ballads, books and films, Robin Hood has proven to be one of popular culture’s most enduring folk heroes. Over the course of 700 years, the outlaw from Nottinghamshire who robs from the rich to give to the poor has emerged as one of the most enduring folk heroes in popular culture.   But did a real Robin Hood inspire these classic tales?

   
   

What a shame it was I had to grow up and learn the truth that the greatest Archer of all time was probably a Hollywood sham

Robin Hood, Fact or Fiction? 

The History Channel suggests that Robin Hood may have existed.  In fact, research has turned up mentions of eight different outlaws calling themselves 'Robin Hood'.  The problem is that the first known mention took place in 1225.  'Richard of the Last Reel' died in 1189.  Whether Richard met the legendary outlaw Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest, we do not know, but it seems kind of unlikely. 

Personally I like the idea of weaving legends together.  I think this is a great idea.  Davey Crockett can be Abe Lincoln's best friend.   Thomas Jefferson can suggest improvements to Obamacare.  Vladimir Putin can assassinate John F. Kennedy with a magic bullet controlled by hackers.  Donald Trump can grope Pocahontas.  Why let the truth get in the way of a great yarn??

Alas, when I learned Robin Hood was only a legend, I was fit to be tied.  Half of my gallant identity was gone.  Well, no matter, I still had Richard the Lionheart, brave Crusader, wonderful King.  Yeah, well, then I discovered that Richard the Lionheart was pretty much useless as a King.  During his ten years reign as King, Richard spent at most six months of it in England.  The rest of the time he gallivanted across Europe and the Middle East involved in the Crusades.  Richard won a bunch of battles, but he was unsuccessful in retaking Jerusalem from his nemesis Saladin, the Muslim warlord. 

Then Richard managed to get captured in Austria on his return home.  He spent nearly three years of his reign in captivity until the ransom was finally raised.  Once he was free, Richard returned for a couple of weeks, then left for France never even bothered to set foot in England again.  Richard spent his final years fighting battles to reclaim territory in Normandy.  

My loyalty to Richard was further shaken when I discovered he was either gay or bisexual.  Despite being married, Richard did not have a child.  Nor did he bother to return to his wife following the Crusades.  In addition, there is a curious historical quote involving King Philip II of France. 

Richard the Lionheart and Philip II of France “ate every day at the same table and from the same dish, and at night their beds did not separate them.”  Uh oh.  What could this mean??

However, historian Dr. John Gillingham discounted the idea that Richard was gay.

"The idea wasn’t even mooted until 1948 and it stems from an official record announcing that, as a symbol of unity between the two countries, the kings of France and England had slept the night in the same bed. It was an accepted political act, nothing sexual about it; just two politicians literally getting into bed together, a bit like a modern-day photo opportunity."

So what was the story on this kidnapping? 

I hate to say it, but Richard was not the nicest guy.  During the Crusades, Richard quarreled constantly among the French, German and English contingents.  Irritated, they all went home, leaving Richard to fight on alone.  After a year's stalemate, Richard made a truce with the famous Saracen ruler Saladin and decided to head home.  However, there was one problem.  Towards the end of his Crusade adventure, Richard was stuck with over three thousand Muslim prisoners.  Tired of feeding them and unable to ransom them, Richard had their throats slit. 

Richard's bad karma soon caught up to him. Bad weather drove him ashore near Venice.  Now he had to head home on foot.  Having insulted and alienated most of his Christian allies while on crusade against Saladin, Richard was unable to return to his kingdom in broad daylight.  He was caught sneaking in disguise through the territory of Leopold, Duke of Austria, one of the many enemies he had made in the Holy Land.  Leopold handed Richard over to the German emperor Henry VI, who ransomed him for the huge sum of 150,000 marks.

This was literally a King's Ransom.  The ransom asked was about 2 billion pounds in today’s money.  Its payment required 25 percent of each Englishman’s income for a year.

Interestingly, while Richard's ransom nearly bankrupted his country, he became famous and much-loved in the process.  How was this possible? 

Now we recall that Richard was the son of Europe's most famous mothers, Eleanor of Aquitaine.  Eleanor just happened be in charge of running England while Richard was out of the country.  Queen Eleanor originated the enduring legend of ‘Good King Richard’ as a PR campaign by  to persuade the citizens of the Plantagenet empire to fork over the crippling ransom.

The raising of the ransom was a remarkable achievement.  Negotiations for Richard’s release took the best part of a year, and after strenuous diplomatic efforts by Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, the payment of 100,000 marks – an enormous sum, perhaps twice the gross domestic product of the whole of England at the time – and the handing over of hostages, the King was released in early February 1194.

After his release, Richard briefly returned to England and was crowned for a second time.  One month later he went to Normandy, never to return.  His last five years were spent in intermittent warfare against Philip II, his alleged former boyfriend.

While besieging the castle of Châlus in central France he was fatally wounded and died on 6 April 1199. He was succeeded by his younger brother John.

John?  John who?  Surely not the same Prince John who was the villain in the Adventures of Robin Hood??

Yup, same guy.  After all those years spent scheming during Richard's absence, John ended up being the King after all.  And why was John made King?  Because the guy historian Dr. John Gillingham claimed was straight didn't bother to produce an heir!

So how did John turn out?  Not very well.  John has been termed 'the worst king in English history'.

Short and fat, John was jealous of his dashing brother Richard I whom he succeeded.  John was cruel, self-indulgent, selfish and avaricious.  The raising of punitive taxes united all the elements of society, clerical and lay, against him. The Pope excommunicated him and the English barons ganged on him.  On 15th June 1215 at Runnymede the barons compelled John to sign Magna Carta, the Great Charter, which reinstated the rights of all his subjects.  John died from over-eating.  He was in hiding at the time, a fugitive from all his enemies.  

Let's face it, when all was said and done, Richard the Lionheart didn't accomplish much.  Richard lived to the ripe old age of 42.  For ten of these years, 1189-1199, he theoretically ruled England...  History suggests Richard spent at most six months of his life in England.  So here are the facts:  Richard didn't win Jerusalem, he didn't produce an heir, he ignored his country, he nearly bankrupted it with his Crusades and his ransom, and stuck England with the worst ruler in history. 

And yet, if people in the streets of any European city today were asked to name one English king, many would probably answer ‘Richard the Lionheart’!!  How utterly crazy is that? 

Fortunately Richard had a good press agent... his Mom!  During his reign, all the people back in England heard nothing but good things about their missing Good King Richard.  Even today Richard retains a similar good fortune... or at least it did for a while.  Back in the early days of Hollywood, Richard was portrayed as a stud warrior, a defender of God, a mighty Crusader and a noble King.  

Richard's reputation definitely benefitted from appearing at the end of every one of a half-dozen Robin Hood movies.  Richard's modern-day legend was built on Robin Hood's modern-day legend and Robin Hood's legend was built on Richard's and if you ask anyone, they will tell you both men were real and both were great heroes.  That's Hollywood for you. 

Recently Hollywood has been less kind.  Revisionist history seems to have caught up with Richard.  His reputation has taken a few hits, notably in the movie 'Lion in Winter' where Richard can be seen frolicking in bed with Phillip of France.  So much for my role model.

Wikipedia sums Richard up as 'a bad son, a bad husband, a selfish ruler, and a vicious man.  During his ten years' reign, he was in England for no more than six months, and was totally absent for the last five years.'

And did Richard die a noble death?  Not exactly.  Richard died rather ingloriously from gangrene following a crossbow bolt wound in his shoulder.   Was Richard shot in battle?  No, Richard was walking along the walls of his castle without his armor on.  Some kid down below took a potshot and hit him.   Now that I think of it, an Archer killed King Richard.  No wonder I have identity issues... I am at war with myself.

For a kid who grew up worshipping Robin Hood and King Richard, history has not been kind to me.  I thought I was named for the finest King in English history only to realize I was named for the most over-rated one.  But you know, it could have been worse.  Think about all the poor little German boys named 'Adolf'.



 

The Hundred Years War, 1337-1453

The Hundred Years War was fought over ostensibly over the French Crown, but mostly it was an excuse for English thugs and bandits to raid helpless farmers and rape French girls.   It was definitely one of the most notable conflicts of the Middle Ages.  For 116 years, five generations of kings from two rival dynasties fought to control the throne of the largest kingdom in Western Europe. 

If you ever wonder why the English hate the French, think back to William the Conqueror who imposed his French way of doing things onto England.  However, that resentment pales in comparison to the French point of view.  If you ever wonder why French hate the English, start with William the Conqueror and then follow the dots until you get to the Hundred Years War.  Virtually every English king since William the Conqueror brought havoc and misery to France for centuries.

William the Conqueror was from Normandy, France.  Thanks to him, there was a succession of English Kings with deep French ties that made them feel entitled to seek the French crown as well as the English crown.  That is what the Hundred Years War was all about. 

The Romantics like to point out that armies of knights and archers battled for King and Country on the field of glory.  What utter nonsense.  'Chivalry' may have the code word of the day, but little decency was shown.  At the end of many battles, helpless prisoners were murdered in cold blood because the victors didn't feel like feeding them.  Unless a guy was worth some money in ransom, it was easier just to slit his throat at the end of the day.  One time the English captured John II, the King of France, in the 1356 Battle of Poitiers.  The English set the ransom price so high that the French had no choice but to tell the English to go ahead keep him. 

According to Stephen Clarke, author of 1000 Years of Annoying the French, the Hundred Years War was basically used by the English as an excuse to inflict 116 years of terror on French civilians.  This terror was conducted by out-of-control English bandits who claimed to defend their king's rights.  The truth was they were actually hard at work enriching themselves and having fun massacring as many helpless peasants as they could. 

As Clarke pointed out, for more than a century, no town in the northern part of France was safe from siege and plunder.  Peasants could not work in their fields without posting lookouts on hilltops, church belfries, or up in trees.  If a dust cloud was sighted, the farmers would throw down their tools and run for their lives.  They knew that any man caught would either be held to ransom if he was rich or put to death.  Was the death swift according to the prevailing sense of chivalry?  Are you out your mind?  Chivalry?  Absolutely not.  Each man was tortured hideously until he revealed where his meager savings were hidden and where his wife and daughters were hiding.  Then the English would plunder the money and rape the women.  This was basically 100 years of Genocide.  Adding insult to injury, the Black Plague took place and removed another 25% of the French population. 

There's an old saying, 'Won the battle, but lost the war.'  In the French case, the saying should go, 'Lost all the Battles, but won the war'.  Although it is true that the French eventually expelled the English in 1453, the cost to France was beyond horrible.  In addition to one humiliating defeat after another in the early stages of the war, the French saw their people slaughtered, their towns destroyed, and their countryside ravaged.  The cost in human suffering was inestimable.  600 years have passed, but the memory is still there.

So what caused this brutal holocaust?  Don't worry, I will be brief, you can always count on that.

   

Henry II's successor was his son Richard I.  Like his father, Richard was 99% French.  He was born to French parents and was raised in France.  We remember that King Richard the Lionheart spent all of six months in England out of ten years of his reign.  When he wasn't off Crusading or being ransomed, he spent the bulk of his time in France trying to extend his French holdings.  In other words, one of the most famous kings in English history was 95% French and 1% English.

Sorry to say, Richard was a bust and so was John, 'the worst king in English history'.  Henry III, John's son, wasn't much better.

Edward I, also known as Edward Longshanks, was perhaps the most successful of the medieval monarchs. His reign marked a high point of cooperation between crown and community.  However, we remember Edward the best as the villain of Braveheart, the tragic movie about Scotland's William Wallace.

Edward II was a waste of time.  Edward was a weak and incompetent king who spent most of his time with his gay lovers.  However, he did marry and produced four children.  The eldest son, Edward III, would go down in history.

Edward III was a significant king in English history.  By my count, Edward was responsible for 150 years of war, 16 children, and untold amounts of misery.

 

Edward III 

Edward III ruled for 50 years, (1327-1377), one of the longest reigns of any European monarch.  The sixth English King after the renowned Henry II, Edward was at heart a warrior.  Edward III transformed the Kingdom of England into one of the most formidable military powers in Europe.  His long reign of fifty years was the second longest in medieval England.  Edward oversaw vital developments in legislation and government, in particular the evolution of the English parliament

Edward III was crowned at age fourteen after his weird father was deposed by his mother, Isabella of France, and her lover Roger Mortimer.  At age seventeen, Edward led a successful coup against Mortimer, the de facto ruler of the country, and began his personal reign.  After a successful campaign in Scotland, he turned his attention to France. 

Edward declared himself rightful heir to the French throne in 1337. 

However, when his claim was denied, he decided to attack France and press his claim. This started he Hundred Years' War.  Edward's claim on the French throne was based on his descent from King Philip IV of France, through his French mother Isabella.  His marriage to French princess Philippa further reinforced his claim. 

They always say make love, not war.  Well, Edward did both.  Philippa and Edward had thirteen children, including five sons who lived into adulthood.  The rivalry of those numerous descendants would one day bring about the long-running and bloody dynastic wars known as the War of the Roses

 

As it turns out, Edward had a famous mistress.  Alice Perrers (1348–1400) was a royal mistress whose lover and patron was King Edward III of England. She met him originally in her capacity as a lady-in-waiting to Edward's consort, Philippa of Hainault.   Alice Perrers was despised by many and was accused of taking advantage of the far older king with her opportunistic character, youth, and beauty.  Meanwhile, this mistress went on to become the wealthiest woman in the land. 

As we shall see, History is just as fascinated by the women surrounding the Kings as the Kings themselves.  Anne O'Brien is a former history teacher in England who turned to historical fiction.  Let's see what she has to say about Alice Perrers:

One marriage. Three people. Proud king. Loving wife. Infamous mistress. 1362.

Philippa of Hainault selects a young orphan from a convent. Alice Perrers, a girl born with nothing but ambition. The Queen has a role waiting for her at court.

‘I have lifted you from nothing Alice. Now you repay me.’  Led down the corridors of the royal palace, the young virgin is secretly delivered to King Edward III – to perform the wifely duties of which ailing Philippa is no longer capable. Power has a price, and Alice Perrers will pay it. Mistress to the King. Confidante of the Queen. Whore to the court.

Her fate is double edged; loved by the majesties, ostracized by her peers. Alice must balance her future with care as her star begins to rise – the despised concubine is not untouchable. Politics and pillow talk are dangerous bedfellows.

The fading great King wants her in his bed. Her enemies want her banished. One mistake and Alice will face a threat worse than any malicious whispers of the past.

 

After his wife Philippa died, Edward had three illegitimate children by his mistress Alice Perrers.  This brings our total to at least 16 children.  There might be more, but who has the patience?  I found a website that drew a very unusual statement about Edward:

Conclusion: there is an extremely high probability that a modern English person with predominantly English ancestry descends from Edward III, at a very minimum over 99%, and more likely very close to 100%. The number of descendants of Edward III must therefore include nearly all of the population of England, and probably much of the populations of the rest of the UK and Eire, as well as many millions in the USA, former British colonies and Europe, so 100 million seems a conservative estimate. Documenting one's own descent from Edward III is, however, another matter!

There are two other footnotes to the reign of Edward III.

First, England lost 33% of its population due to the Black Plague. 

Second, France lost 33% of its population to Edward's son, the infamous Black Prince.  No, France didn't really lose that many, but it sure seemed that way. 

 

The Lineage of Edward III

 

I have discovered the hard way that any American who undertakes the task of sorting out English genealogy and ancestry is an idiot.  There are some remarkable stories to be told, but unless I explain the complicated politics, the upcoming stories will not make much sense.  Therefore, after much frustration, I have concluded that at least a superficial understanding of what King Edward III did would help explain the complex story behind the remarkable events soon to unfold.

All four of Edward III's sons contributed directly to English history. 

Edward III named John of Gaunt, one of his sons, to become the Duke of Lancaster

Edward III named Edmund, another other son, to become the Duke of York

Edward III had yet another son, Lionel, whose descendent Richard, Duke of York, would play a key role in English history. 

Edward III's son Edward, also known as the Black Prince, would see his son Richard II succeed Edward III as king. 

Now that Edward III's four boys have split off into different Houses, both Houses had an equal right to promote one of their members to the English throne.  This splitting would lead to brutal competition starting three generations down the line. 

 
   
   

Edward, The Black Prince

 

The most hated man in France was the Black Prince.  Sorry to say, but the French got the worst of it during the Hundred Year's War because all the battles took place on French soil.  The Black Prince was quite a warrior.  Like father, like son. 

Although the Black Prince was the eldest son of King Edward III and Philippa of Hainault, Edward of Woodstock (1330 –1376) never became king.  He died one year before his father's death after fighting a prolonged ten-year battle with a mysterious, debilitating diseaseDue to his premature death, the throne passed instead to his son Richard II, a minor, upon the death of the Black Prince's father Edward III. 

Edward of Woodstock was an exceptional military leader.   His victories over the French at the Battle of Crécy and the Battle of Poitiers against superior numbers during the Hundred Years War made him very popular in England. 

Unfortunately, Edward was not a man of mercy. In fact, he was the Black Prince of Destruction who laid neverending waste to France during the Hundred Years War.   

Although this was considered the Age of Chivalry, Edward never got the email.  Edward had a well-deserved reputation for cruelty.  He earned his title based on his habit of burning the fields of his French enemies, laying waste to the towns that he conquered, and executing thousands of helpless, unarmed French prisoners after his battles. 

He was despised by the French and admired by the English.  Whatever your point of view, there can be no doubt that Edward was a brute.  Hence the name 'Black Prince'.  The only favor Edward ever did the French was to die young, thereby putting one of England's worst rulers on the throne. 

 

John of Gaunt, House of Lancaster #1 and House of Lancaster #2

Good old King Edward III... remember him?

Edward III was the king who started that awful Hundred Years War and also found time to reproduce at a prolific rate. 

Edward's third male child by his wife Philippa was known as John of Gaunt

John of Gaunt founded not one, but two major wings on the House of Lancaster family tree. 

One wing was founded with Blanche of Lancaster, his first wife. 

The second wing was founded with Katherine Swynford, his mistress of 30 years. 

Both women were quite remarkable.

 

John of Gaunt and Blanche of Lancaster

King Edward noticed that Blanche of Lancaster, daughter of Henry Grosmont, head of the original wing of Lancaster, was not only filthy rich, she was available.

So John of Gaunt married Blanche of Lancaster in 1359.  She was 14 at the time.  Since John was a Plantagenet and the Lancasters were also Plantagenets, I suppose they were cousins of a sort. 

Blanche possessed considerable land holdings.  After John combined the estates King Edward gave him plus Blanche's estate, John of Gaunt was now the richest man in England after his father King Edward III.

Blanche was remarkable... marrying at age 14, she had seven children in eight years.  Then suddenly she took ill from complications following the birth of her seventh child.  Blanche died in 1368 at age 22. 

One of Blanche's children was Henry Bolingbroke, destined to become the first Lancaster King, Henry IV.

After Blanche's death, John had pretensions of ruling a Kingdom.  He was too far removed from the Crown of England to expect advancement, so he married Constance of Castille, Spain, in 1371.  John of Gaunt huffed and puffed for the next 23 years or so, but the Spanish Kingdom gig never worked out.  Constance died in 1394 still married to John.  It would be interesting to know what Constance thought of her marriage.  However, for the sake of Brevity, I will do my best to look away.  On the other hand, John's next love affair was more than I could resist.

   

Katherine Swynford,
The Scandalous Duchess

 

Widow Lady Katherine Swynford presents herself for a role in the household of merciless royal prince John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, hoping to end her destitution.

But the Duke’s scandalous proposition leaves her life of pious integrity reeling... Seduced by the glare of royal adoration, Katherine becomes John’s mistress.

She will leave behind everything she has stood for to play second fiddle to his young wife and ruthless ambition.  She will live in the shadows of the most powerful man in England in the hope of a love greater than propriety.

But soon the court whispers – whore, harlot, vile temptress – reach the ears of not just John’s bride but his most dangerous political enemies.

As the Plantagenet prince is accused of bringing England to its knees, who better to blame than shameless she-devil Katherine Swynford?

Dragged from the shadows, Katherine must answer for her sins.

 

Katherine Swynford was a commoner who came to the household of John of Gaunt as governess to his daughters Philippa of Lancaster and Elizabeth of Lancaster. 

After the death of his wife Blanche, John made Katherine Swynford his mistress.  She bore him four children in the years between 1371 and 1379.  They were supposedly born in John’s castle in Champagne, France, and given the name of the castle as their surname; Beaufort.  However it seems just as likely that they were named after the lordship of Beaufort, which had one belonged to Gaunt and to which he still laid claim.

Katherine remained John's mistress for 30 years during his marriage to Constance.  How she put up with this situation is anyone's guess. 

That said, for you hopeless romantics, I will share one tidbit... John finally married Katherine in 1396 and made her the Duchess of Lancaster.  He then asked King Richard II to legitimize their four children. 

The House of Beaufort had begun.  It is interesting to note that a descendant of Katherine's previously illegitimate son John Beaufort would on day produce a King of England. 

 

Richard II

Richard II followed Edward III. 

Richard was not the son of Edward III, but rather the son of the Black Prince.  Richard II was 10 when his controversial father died of a mysterious ailment in 1377.  No doubt the French were thrilled to see this brutal man bite the dust. 

 

 

In a move that would have far-reaching consequences, Richard II bypassed three able-bodied sons for succession to the crown. 

By the laws of primogeniture, this ten year old boy, Richard II, succeeded to the throne ahead of Edward's three surviving sons

This skipping of an entire generation left lingering claims to the throne among their various offspring, particularly among the Lancasters, descended from Edwards third son, John of Gaunt, and among the Yorks, descended from the second son Lionel and the fourth son Edmund.

   
   

Richard spent the majority of his early years wrestling to keep control of one peasant revolt after another.  We haven't spoken much about the English peasants, but they had a rough life.  At that time, half of England was owned by a network of 200 related Anglo-Norman families (and the rest was owned by the crown and the church).  In the centuries since the Norman Conquest, followers of William the Conqueror and his successors married noble Anglo-Saxon women to form a new French-speaking aristocracy. Their wealth and even their food were supplied by the toil of their native Anglo-Saxon serfs, few of whom rose to greatness.

Traces of the racial and class divisions of this time still exist in modern English. For the live animals herded, tended, milked and slaughtered by the natives we still use their Anglo-Saxon names like sheep, calf, cow and swine. For the cooked meat on the table, which only the French-speaking overlords were allowed to eat, we use the French equivalents: mutton, veal, beef and pork.

More cruelly still, the poor natives were not allowed to hunt wild animals for food in the forests, or even gather winter fuel there. Some modern place names tell this story:  Cannock Chase in Staffordshire is so named because ‘chase’ comes from the French word ‘chasse’ meaning ‘hunt’.  It was originally enclosed land, where the game was reserved for the exclusive pleasure of the overlords.  A peasant defying the “forest laws for the protection of vert and venison” risked a long term in prison – or even death.  The legend of Robin Hood was so enticing simply because this folk hero brought forest justice to a land that knew little justice for the lower classes.  So when an idiot like Richard Lionheart goes and gets kidnapped, the smart thing to do would have been to say keep him.  Instead the peasants were forced to fork over 25% of their earnings to pay Richard's ransom.  The English peasants were not a happy people.  This probably explains why they were eager to go plunder their counterparts in France during the Hundred Year's War.

When Richard was 36, he tried to put an end to the Hundred Years War by negotiating a permanent peace with France.  A proposal put forward in 1393 would have greatly expanded the territory of Aquitaine possessed by the English crown. However, the plan failed because it included a requirement that the English king pay homage to the King of France – a condition that proved unacceptable to the English public.  Instead, in 1396, a truce was agreed to, a truce which was supposed to last 28 years.  It lasted 19 years. 

Richard II was extravagant, unjust and faithless.  The sudden death of his wife Anne of Bohemia left Richard mentally unhinged.  He turned vindictive in 1397 and began taking cruel revenge on political opponents, many of whom were executed or exiled.  The next two years have been described by historians as Richard's Reign of Tyranny. 

   

Henry IV

Unfortunately for Richard II, one of the men he picked on had the means to fight back.  In 1399, Richard II disinherited Henry Bolingbroke.  Determined to regain his estate, Henry, returned from exile and deposed Richard

Richard picked on the wrong enemy.  Henry was not only his direct cousin, he was the son of John of Gaunt, the second wealthiest man in the kingdom.  It was a family feud, Plantagenet versus Plantagenet.  

John of Gaunt's eldest son and heir, Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Hereford, had been exiled for ten years by King Richard II in 1398 as resolution to a dispute between Henry and Thomas de Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk. 

When John of Gaunt died in 1399, his estates and titles were declared forfeit to the crown.  King Richard II saw fit to do this because he had named Henry a traitor and changed his sentence to exile for life. Henry Bolingbroke returned from exile to reclaim his inheritance and depose Richard. 

Henry invaded England in June 1399 with a small force that quickly grew in numbers due to Richard II's unpopularity.  Claiming initially that his only goal was to reclaim his lost estate, it soon became clear that Henry intended to claim the throne for himself. 

   

Meeting little resistance, Bolingbroke deposed Richard and had himself crowned as King Henry IV (1399-1413).

Richard II died in captivity in February 1400; he is thought to have been starved to death in Pontefract Castle.  From what the history books say, he deserved it.

Henry's ascension to the throne marked a changing of the guard.  His father, John of Gaunt, was the third son of Edward III.  John of Gaunt enjoyed a position of considerable political influence during much of the reign of Henry's cousin Richard II.  Henry's mother Blanche was heiress to the considerable Lancaster estates.  Thus Henry IV became the first King of England from the Lancaster branch of the Plantagenets.  Significantly, Henry was the first King of England since the Norman Conquest whose mother tongue was English rather than French. 

Although England finally had an English king, Henry did not enjoy a particularly auspicious reign. He spent most of his 13 years defending himself against plots, rebellions and assassination attempts.  Henry died exhausted, probably of leprosy, at the age of 45.

Although Henry IV did not accomplish much on his own other than fend off all the attackers, his son Henry V would become one of England's most famous rulers. 

 
   

Problem of Succession

Henry IV had stepped out of line.  Literally. 

The heir of the royal estate according to common law was Edmund Mortimer, 5th Earl of March, who descended from the daughter of Edward III's third son, Lionel of Antwerp.  Basically, Edmund Mortimer had been cheated out of the throne.

Bolingbroke's father, John of Gaunt, was Edward's fourth son.  In other works, Bolingbroke had broken the line of succession and opened a can of worms. 

Henry thus had to overcome the superior claim of the Mortimers in order to maintain his inheritance.  At the time, the problem was solved by everyone looking the other way and coming up with legal goobledygook to explain why it was okay after all.

   

Basically, Henry Bolingbroke had opened a can of worms.  If it was okay for him to 'step out of line', then it was okay for all his royal cousins to do the same at a later date.

This difficulty compounded when the Mortimer claim was merged with the Yorkist claim in the person of Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York.  The Duke of York was the heir-general of Edward III, and the heir presumptive (due to agnatic descent) of Henry's grandson Henry VI.  We will come back to this shortly.

   

Henry V

 
   

Henry V was extremely pious and serious.  He was also a skillful soldier.  Henry honed his military skills by helping to put down the many rebellions launched against his father.  Henry was quite a fighter.  The boy had already been knighted when aged just 12.

Ascending to the throne in 1413, Henry pleased his nobles by renewing the Hundred Year's War with France in 1415.  More than likely, Henry V spotted an opening.  France was in complete disorder.  The French king, Charles VI of France, was prone to mental illness; at times he thought he was made of glass.  Furthermore, his eldest surviving son was an unpromising prospect.  Seeing that France was leaderless, Henry V decided to strike. 

Henry V didn't need an excuse.  He simply revived the old dynastic claim to the throne of France that had been earlier pursued by Edward III of England. 

Henry's campaign was at best a borderline success.  He laid siege to the port of Harfleur, modern day Le Havre.  During the long siege, Henry lost 33% of his forces to dysentery.  Ravaged by disease, Henry decided to fold his tents and head back to England. 

Meanwhile, the French had other ideas.  

   

Agincourt 

   

So how about the Archers?  Many Englishmen were known by their occupations in Old England.  Here is a simple list of occupations that turned into easily recognizable names:

Archer, Baker, Brewer, Butcher, Butler, Carpenter, Carter, Clark, Cooper, Cook, Dyer, Farmer, Faulkner, Field, Fisher, Fuller, Gardener, Glover, Head, Hunt, Hunter, Judge, Knight, Mason, Miller, Page, Parker, Potter, Sawyer, Slater, Smith, Taylor, Thatcher, Turner, Weaver, Wood, Wright.

These names are all gentle reminders that many Americans can trace their lineage back to England and its surrounding areas. 

Many of the English got their names from their occupations.  As one might gather, since I am an 'Archer', my family traces its roots back to the glory days of the Archers during the 'Hundred Years War' between England and France.  

Of course, I am very proud of my Archer name.  The Archers not only won the famous battle of Agincourt on French soil in 1415, they did so on my birthday!

   


The 1415 Battle of
Agincourt was the most famous battle during the long series of warfare between England and France known as the Hundred Years War.   What makes the battle so remarkable was that the army of Henry V was apparently outnumbered 5 to 1.  But somehow the English managed to win Not only that, Henry was said to have only lost about 400 men. 

Many accounts suggest it was 30,000 French against 6,000 English.   So how on earth did the English beat an army five times larger and incur so few losses in the process?

Well, the Mystics will say Fate and the Realistics will say the English benefitted from several factors, one being considerable luck. 

Seriously, the French had no business losing this battle.  They didn't even have to fight!!  They could have won just by sitting still and forcing the outnumbered English to do the attacking... in which case the larger French army would have enjoyed a serious advantage.

The English invasion of France by King Henry V was cut short by a serious outbreak of dysentery.   Henry had already lost one-third of his army to disease and was limping to Calais, an English Channel port from which his pitiful army could sail home.   The army was low on provisions and exhausted from a previous battle at Harfleur (modern day Le Havre).

The French pulled an impressive trick on the English.  In order to reach Calais, the English had to cross the Somme River in northern France.   Heading north along the French coastline, the English were met by a small French army on the northern side of the Somme River.  The English army moved inland in search of a safe spot to cross the river swollen by seasonal rains.   The small French army shadowed the English every step of the way to prevent it from crossing.   This maneuver forced the English to detour nearly one hundred miles inland before it could find a place to cross.  The detour changed a 120 mile trip to Calais into a 260 mile trip.  In the process, the detour delayed the English reaching Calais by two weeks.

During this two week delay, the French used the extra time to assemble the largest army in history.   The word spread throughout France... head to Calais and take place in the greatest English arse kicking in French history.  Everyone wanted a piece of the action. 

The English were just 30 miles from Calais when it crossed a hill.  Surprise!  There in front of them stood an army of 30,000 men.  This army stretched as far as the eye could see. 

Devastated from dysentery, low on provisions, exhausted after a three-week march, the English army had a huge problem... the French were in no hurry to fight.  All the French had to do was sit there for a week, drink wine and let the English starve to death.

   

King Henry V had no choice.  He had to attack.  

So how did the English win?   Rain, vain, terrain.

The overnight 'rain' was a huge help.  It turned the battlefield into a mud pit.   The field had recently been ploughed and the upturned dirt became a quagmire.  Now the heavily armored French were at a considerable disadvantage because their heavy armor made them immobile in the muck

The 'terrain' was a gentle slope with the English on the high ground.  On either side of the field were thick forests.   This helped the English because now the French were unable to flank them.  In addition, the vast majority of the French forces were stuck at the back and unable to join the fight.

Henry used a narrow front channeled by woodland to give his heavily outnumbered force a chance.  All the English had to do was keep the front line of the French at bay while the countless thousands of Frenchmen behind the lines twiddled their thumbs. 

Even better, the English archers went into the woods where they could attack the French using the cover of the trees. 

   

As for 'vain', the English left themselves completely vulnerable for an entire hour, but the French just sat and watched.  They were so certain of victory that they passed on this delicious window of opportunity. 

Every archer was told to carry a giant wooden stake with a point on the end to plant in the ground.  These stakes were to serve as a defensive barrier to slow down the French horses.

The English were in a terrible position.  They had no choice but to attack or starve.  The problem was that the French army was out of arrow range.  In order to fight, first they had to move the archers closer.  Henry's decision to move forward meant the archers had dig up their stakes, move them 200 yards forward, then re-plant them. 

Surely the French were amused.  It was a preposterous sight to see the English dig up their stakes, move them forward, and then replant them.  The entire time, the archers were vulnerable to attack by the mighty French cavalry.  The French cavalry force could have devastated the English line if it had attacked while they moved their stakes.  Instead they did nothing while the English came closer.  

   

French arrogance cost them a surefire triumph.   When Henry originally decided to attack France, he had been right about one thing... the French seriously lacked leadership.  Their generals did not seem to have a clue on this day. 

Now that the English archers were within striking distance, they let loose an initial volley of arrows.   The initial deluge of arrows was so thick legend has it that the sun disappeared. 

This enraged the French who decided to charge.  That was exactly what Henry wanted them to do.   Now the English could fight a defensive battle.  The first line of French knights attacked only to be repulsed by the English longbowmen.  

The French armor was sufficient to protect many of the French from the arrows, but the horses were another story.  Every time a horse went down, so did the man riding it.  Once a knight hit the dirt with his heavy armor, he got stuck in the thick mud.  

The dead horses now served as a defensive wall for the English, but the French showed great determination by trudging forward.

   

Several days of torrential rains had turned the recently tilled ground at Agincourt into a soggy morass. Already weighed down by their heavy metal armor, the French knights were forced to slip and slide their way toward the English line, often sinking down to their knees in mud. The French attack slowed to a crawl and became a prelude to a slaughter in the mud.

The French had become sitting ducks.  Many died right where they fell off their horse.  They were caught in a human crush and were either trampled or suffocated to death after they fell into the mire.  Can you imagine?  The water was so deep in places that a fallen Frenchman might get his visor stuck underwater and drown. 

Those lucky enough to survive the slog arrived at the enemy position exhausted and disorganized. Since most of the English weren’t wearing armor, they were able to pounce on the weary Frenchmen and inflict devastating casualties.

   

The English archers put down their bows and used their poleaxes to kill the immobilized French knights who were stuck in the mud thanks to to their heavy armor.   The more mobile English simply raised the visors of their enemy and stuck a knife in their eye.  

The French viewed the day with mounting horror.  After seeing their first line repulsed, the second line of French now attacked

They too were beaten back, their charge bogged down by the mud on the field and the defensive wall of dead Frenchmen.  

Late in the day, a third line moved to engage but lost heart as they crossed the field covered with French dead.  Seeing the futility, they retreated without giving fight. 

The battle was over.

 

   

One of the remarkable features of Agincourt was Henry V fighting front and center throughout the battle.  The man possessed considerable courage.

It has been written that a band of 18 French knights under the banner of the Lord of Croy met before the battle and vowed to kill Henry V and knock his crown from his head.  

Their efforts were unsuccessful.  One member did manage to strike Henry’s helmeted head with an axe and chip off a piece of his crown, but that was only blow landed all day.

The entire group of 18 died in their effort.

The blow wasn’t the only brush with death the King had while fighting on the front lines.  When his younger brother Humphrey was wounded in the groin, Henry is said to have kept a group of French attackers at bay until Humphrey could be carried to safety.

Richard the Lionheart may have had the reputation, but Henry V was the real deal. The word 'hero' was coined for guys like him. 

Henry was left with control of the battlefield and a decisive victory.  The resulting massacre left between 6,000 and 10,000 French troops dead. The English only lost a few hundred men.  

   

In 1599 Shakespeare wrote Henry V, including the immortal St. Crispin’s Day “band of brothers” speech by which the king best remembered.

“From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.”

This battle is still considered one of England's finest hours.

 

 

 

Catherine of Valois

1415. The jewel in the French crown, Katherine de Valois, is waiting under lock and key for King Henry V.

While the English superman is slaughtering her kinsmen at Agincourt, Catherine is praying for marriage to save her from her misery. But the brutal king wants her crown, not her innocent love.

For Catherine, England is a lion's den of greed, avarice and mistrust.

And when she is widowed at twenty-one, she becomes a prize ripe for the taking—her young son the future monarch, her hand in marriage worth a kingdom.

This is a deadly political game, one the dowager queen must learn fast.  She is an innocent pawn in a kingdom without a kingThe players—the Duke of Gloucester, Edmund Beaufort and Owen Tudor—are circling.

Catherine de Valois... Who will have her?  Who will ruin her?   A new dynasty will reign…  

   

Catherine of Valois (1401 – 1437) was the daughter of Charles VI of France.  Catherine's older sister Isabella was queen of England from 1396 until 1399, as the child bride of Richard II.  Henry V had been betrothed to Catherine even after the great English victory at Agincourt. Despite the French humiliation, plans for the marriage continued.  Catherine was very attractive.  When Henry finally met her at Meulan, he became enamored. In 1420, after a peace agreement was made between England and France, Catherine and Henry were married.

Catherine went to England with her new husband and was crowned queen in February 1421. Four months later, Henry returned to France to continue his military campaigns during the Hundred Year's War.  One would think being married to the daughter of the French King would calm Henry down, but apparently not.  He was still determined to be the King of France.

Catherine was several months pregnant when Henry left.  She gave birth to Henry VI.  Her husband never saw their child. During the siege of Meaux, he became sick with dysentery and died on 31 August 1422.  Catherine was not quite 21 and was left a queen dowager.  What would the future hold in this foreign land?

   

Acclaimed author Anne O’Brien offers her thoughts on the French woman who found herself at the heart of a royal power struggle...


Has there ever been a Queen of England less acclaimed – so apparently unexceptional – than Katherine de Valois?

True, she was a Valois princess, daughter of Charles VI of France and Queen Isabeau; she became the beautiful young bride of England’s heroic King Henry V, victor at Agincourt Shakespeare wrote for her a splendid love scene in Henry V, where Henry declares: “There is witchcraft on your lips, Kate.”

But Katherine’s early life was not glamorous, being one of neglect and starvation, running unwashed and wild through the Hôtel St-Pol, her father suffering from bouts of madness, her mother unapproachable. When packed off to a convent, Katherine’s education was minimal. She learned to play the harp.

What she had was royal blood and so she became a matrimonial prize in the diplomatic maneuvering to bring peace between England and France. Henry wanted the French crown for his descendants, and that is what Katherine brought as her dowry. Henry would have wed her had she been the ugliest princess in Christendom.

This was no fairytale marriage, and Katherine of course had no choice in the matter. Nor did life improve for her as Henry’s young wife. Out of the 26 months of their marriage, she spent only five of them with him in England, and when left a young widow, she was allowed no role in the education or upbringing of her baby son, Henry VI. Her position was ceremonial, standing beside the young king when he was crowned or when he opened parliament.

to be continued...
 

 

Henry VI

Poor Henry VI.  Nice guy, but gullible and easily manipulated by his powerful wife Margaret of Anjou.  Unlike his warrior father Henry V, Henry VI was not suited for warfare.  Gentle, pious and retiring, he came to the throne as a baby.  In the process he inherited a losing war with France.  Under his watch, the Hundred Years War ended in 1453 with the humiliating loss of all French lands except for Calais. 

All that fighting and nothing to show for it.  In August 1453, Henry VI suffered a catastrophic mental breakdown brought on by the news of the defeat at the Battle of Castillon in Gascony, the defeat which finally drove English forces from France.

Henry VI became completely unresponsive and unable to speak.  He had to be led from room to room.  This had happened before.  Mental illness was hereditary in his mother's family.  During these periods of insanity, he was incompetent to rule.  Previously when this happened, Margaret of Anjou, his wife, assumed control of his kingdom.  But this attack was far more severe.  The Council tried to carry on as though the king's disability would be brief, but eventually was forced to admit something had to be done.

Henry's ineffectual rule encouraged the nobles to scheme for ways to establish control over him.  In 1454, Richard, Duke of York, was made Protector of the Realm.  The House of York challenged Henry VI's right to the throne and England was plunged into civil war. 

The War of the Roses was about to begin. 

   

   


The War of the Roses

ACT ONE: The Man Who Would Be King

 

The War of the Roses was a brutal Civil War between two powerful families over who would be the next English King. 

After the Hundred Years War (1337-1453) had fizzled out under Henry VI, the weakling son of the great Henry V, the consensus was the man had lost his mind.  Henry VI was so incompetent that the English nobles appointed Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, to run the show.  The House of Lancaster had been in charge for the past 50 years.  They were not at all pleased to see a York man in charge.

The competition to replace Henry VI became the spark that ignited The War of the Roses (1455-1487), 32 year stretch when one man after another took his best shot at obtaining the throne.  Four different wars were fought and lots of people died in the process.

On one side was the House of Lancaster whose symbol was a red rose.  Opposing them was the House of York whose symbol was a white rose.  Hence the name.  One unusual twist to the rivalry was the fact that many of the participants were related to each other.  Since neither side had any better claim to the throne than the other, they decided to fight it out.  The carnage was incredible.

In the end, only one person came out smelling like Roses. 

William Shakespeare wrote 8 plays.  

 

The houses of Lancaster and York correspond to the modern counties of Lancashire and Yorkshire

The War of the Roses saw the Yorks and Lancasters play musical chairs with the English throne.  Starting with Henry IV, the Lancasters had been in charge for 50 years.  Now the Yorks wanted their day in the sun. 

Both sides gained and lost power multiple times.  In total, the Wars resulted in five different rulers in the span of only 25 years, three of whom were killed or executed by their rivals. 

Have you ever heard of the Lannisters?   Have you ever heard of the Starks?  Lannisters = Lancasters, Starks = Yorks.

The exciting HBO series Game of Thrones was inspired by the wildly improbable twists and turns seen during the War of the Roses.

The War of the Roses was so brutal it made Game of Thrones look like kids fighting with wooden swords.  It even had dragons!!

Well, maybe not.   But it should have.

 

Richard of York, Man of Ambition

   

Richard Plantagenet, 3rd Duke of York, was a leading English noble who wanted to be King.  Due to his vast land holdings in Yorkshire, he was the wealthiest noble in England, second only to the king himself. 

Richard believed his royal lineage was stronger than any person in England, including the current King Henry VI.  He based his claim on the lineage of his two parents. 

Richard's grandfather Lionel preceded John of Gaunt in the birth order of Edward III.  Lionel had only one child, Philippa.  In 1368 Philippa married Edmund Mortimer, 3rd Earl of March.  Their son Roger Mortimer was the man Henry IV had 'cheated' out of the throne 50 years earlier.

Lionel's granddaughter, Anne Mortimer, married into the Yorkist branch of the English royal family and gave birth to Richard Plantagenet, 3rd Duke of York.  Richard of York based his claim to the English throne on this line of descent from Lionel, who was the eldest son of King Edward III to establish a lasting blood line.  

   

Second, Richard's father was Richard, Earl of Cambridge.  This made Richard of York the great-grandson of Edward III on his mother's side and the grandson of Edward III on his father's side.   Descent from not one, but two of Edward's sons made for a strong claim.

Richard also had a score to settle.  Henry V had beheaded his father Richard, Earl of Cambridge, for treason in 1415.  Richard had no love for the House of Lancaster or for Henry VI, son of the man who murdered his father.

Richard was certain he had just as much right to the throne as King Henry VI, the bumbling Lancaster.  Legal scholars agreed with Richard.  Unless Henry VI could produce an heir, Richard was next in line.

1453 was an important year in English history.   In January, Richard got the bad news:  the Queen was pregnant.  If her child was a boy, Richard's claims would be negated.  Then came more bad news:  England had just lost the Hundred Year's War.  Then came the strange news:  The King had gone mad.

Henry VI, a weak Lancastrian King, had overseen England's defeat in the Hundred Years' War.  This was the least of England's problems.  Due to poor leadership, the country was beset with social, political and economic problems.  Popular revolts were commonplace, triggered by the denial of numerous freedoms.  Lacking leadership, the rich and powerful English nobles took matters into their own hands.  They raised private armies, engaged in private feuds and openly defied Henry VI.  England was a land divided.

 

With Henry's mental breakdown in 1453, this was Richard's big chance. 

Richard was desperate.  Noting that Margaret was pregnant, he needed to take power now.  Even if the newborn child was a boy, it would be 16 years before the boy came of age.  Richard was willing to settle for that.  A lot can happen in 16 years.  Richard told anyone who would listen that Henry VI had to go sooner rather than later. 

The barons and nobles agreed.  They also agreed Richard of York was the best qualified man to run the state.  Richard of York was appointed to govern as Lord Protector during the madness of King Henry VI.  This move, of course, set in motion dangerous and far-reaching energies.

The House of Lancaster was not going sit by idly and let Richard run roughshod over them.  Henry VI was not dead, he was catatonic.  In the eyes of the Lancasters, Henry was 'resting'.  In their opinion, Henry VI should decide who the next king should be.  Furthermore, wasn't Richard overlooking something?  By amazing timing, Margaret of Anjou, wife of Henry VI, had just become pregnant.  If she were to have a son, the son's claim would supersede Richard's claim. 

Richard would have none of it.  He intended to pursue the throne, Margaret's pregnancy be damned.  His unquenchable ambition would soon lead England to the brink of war.

Matthew Lewis, biographer of Richard, points out that the enduring reputation of Richard as villain is unsympathetic and largely unfair.  To begin with, Richard had a legal claim.  Richard had every right to pursue his claim through political means.  He had served loyally as Henry VI’s lieutenant in France on two occasions and then later in Ireland.  Richard performed his roles solidly, though unspectacularly.  The turmoil of the 1450s were largely caused by Lancastrian paranoia and subsequent infighting to stop Richard.

No doubt Richard, Duke of York, was a complex man capable of good as well as evil.  That said, there can be no doubt that Richard would go down in history as the man whose ambition for the crown sparked the horrible civil war now known as the War of the Roses.  In the eyes of many people, Richard, Duke of York, would go down in history as one of the major villains. 

   

Queen Margaret of Anjou

   

Margaret of Anjou was the Queen of England.  As the wife of incapacitated Henry VI, she would be equally guilty of provoking the onset of the War of the Roses. 

Margaret was raised in France.  She married English King Henry VI at age 15.  Henry VI was not a successful king.  Henry was more interested in religion and learning than in military matters.  When he married Margaret, his mental condition was already unstable.  Margaret cursed Catherine of Valois.  As daughter to the mentally disturbed French King Charles VI, now doubt Catherine had passed on this hereditary condition to Margaret's son Henry VI. 

In 1452, England was falling apart.  Richard, the Duke of York was persuaded to return from Ireland, claim his rightful place on the council and put an end to bad government. His cause was a popular one and he soon raised an army at Shrewsbury.  The Lancaster group, meanwhile, raised their own similar-sized force in London.  Margaret took charge while Henry simply wrung his hands. 

1453 was much worse.  First Henry learned that England had lost the Hundred Year's War with France.  Then he learned that Margaret was pregnant which was fairly miraculous since Henry had not been intimate.  However, he was so out of it that Margaret was able to persuade Henry that he had merely forgotten their liaison. 

Shortly after his son Edward was born in 1453, Henry suffered a nervous breakdown.   Now rumors were rife that the new Prince of Wales was the result of an adulterous affair.  Perhaps it was this knowledge that pushed Henry VI over the edge. After his breakdown, Henry VI was judged incapable of ruling.  So Richard, Duke of York, was appointed to run the Kingdom.  Richard immediately assumed control.

Not so fast.  Margaret of Anjou, Queen of England, refused to accept any arrangement that deprived her newborn son - Edward of Westminster - of his birthright.  Queen Margaret was determined to secure the throne for her son Edward, but since he was just a baby, she had no choice but to allow the Duke of York to take over. 

   

Queen Margaret would stop at nothing.  Although the Lancasters were nominally aligned behind King Henry VI, his ill health ensured that he was never a major player in the coming War of the Roses.  The de facto leader of the Lancaster faction was instead Henry's cunning wife Margaret.  As the most skilled strategist of the Lancasters, Queen Margaret was hell bent on putting Richard in his place.

   

Edmund Beaufort

   

Edmund Beaufort, 2nd Duke of Somerset, was Richard of York's main rival.  Edmund was just as ambitious to become King as Richard.  Like Richard, Edmund noted that Henry VI was still childless after seven years of marriage.  Were Henry VI to remain without an heir, who would be the next in line for the crown?  Edmund assumed he had a strong claim.  If Henry VI could trace his right to the throne by pointing to John of Gaunt and Blanche, well, then Edmund could point to John of Gaunt and Katherine Swynford. 

   

Unfortunately Richard of York could make a better claim.  Richard could point to his mother's lineage from Lionel and his father's lineage from Edmund.  Therefore Richard's claim was stronger than Edmund's.  This explained why Richard was named Henry's heir presumptive. 

Edmund was disgusted.  To hell with Richard of York.  Edmund was going to get the crown by hook or crook.  One of his first moves was the 1427 seduction of Catherine of Valois, the widowed mother of Henry VI, age 5. 

As the daughter of French King Charles VI, Catherine was viewed with considerable suspicion by English nobles.  Afraid she would implant French sympathies into her son's gullible mind, they prevented her from playing a full role in her son's upbringing.  Largely cut off from her son and stuck in the court of a foreign land that did not like her, Catherine was pretty much bored, beautiful, and lonely.  Sensing easy pickings, Edmund Beaufort initiated a torrid affair in 1427.

   

This shook up the English Council.  The last thing they needed was a messy marriage and more heirs.  So they passed a law forbidding Catherine to marry without the King's approval.  

Although the current king, Henry VI, was quite likely to give his mother the necessary approval, there was a catch.  Henry was only 7 years old.  Until Henry came of age (16), he could not legally give approval.  Mom would have to stay single.  Very clever.

No problem.  Edmund used his position as Catherine's one-time sweetheart to become closer to Henry VI.  He did his best to become a a surrogate father to the boy. 

Later, Edmund would exploit his personal relationship by persuading the King to promote Edmund to various royal offices.

   

Richard had a huge wealth advantage.  Although Edmund was the head of one of the greatest families in England, his inheritance was worth only 300 pounds.  By contrast his rival Richard had a net worth of 5,800 pounds.  Henry VI made sure that Edmund was compensated with offices worth 3,000 pounds.  Not only did that bring Edmund deep within Henry's inner circle, Edmund had money to raise armies with.

This patronage served to offend Richard of York and many of the other nobles deeply.  As Edmund's quarrel with York grew personal, the dynastic situation got worse, especially in 1451 when Edmund became Henry VI's right hand man. 

Edmund used his inside track in another way.  Edmund was not only Henry's right hand man, he enjoyed the considerable advantage of sleeping with the King's wife.  When it was announced in January 1453 that Queen Margaret was pregnant after seven years of no results, the matter seemed highly suspicious. 

Henry VI displayed qualities that would have done credit to a monk, but not to a Medieval King who was expected to produce an heir. Henry was pious, naïve, chaste, and prudish.  In addition, Henry VI had a well-known aversion to physical contact. 

Seven years had passed without a pregnancy.  Therefore the pregnancy became seen as either a miracle or the product of adultery.  Henry VI himself did nothing to squelch the rumors.  When asked about the child's paternity, Henry declared that Edward must have been fathered by the Holy Ghost. 

Nor did it help that Edmund was made the child's godfather.  The odds clearly favor Edmund Beaufort as the father of this child.  However, what is more important is that Henry VI was not the father.  Richard of York knew this and so did everyone else.  Margaret and Edmund were trying to promote an illegitimate child to the throne.

   

The Plot Thickens

   

Despite the objections of Margaret and Edmund, in 1454 Richard of York was named regent as Protector of the Realm.

Richard of York, meanwhile, had gained a very important ally, Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, one of the most influential magnates of the realm.  Warwick was an English nobleman, administrator, and military commander.  He was possibly richer than Richard of York himself.  Richard Neville became known as Warwick the Kingmaker due to his considerable influence during the infighting to replace Henry VI. 

Warwick was originally a supporter of King Henry VI.  However, a territorial dispute with Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, led him to collaborate with Richard, Duke of York, in opposing both Beaufort and the king.  The alliance between Richard and Warwick was aided by the fact that Richard's wife Cecily Neville was Warwick's aunt. 

Once Richard of York took power, the landscape changed immediately.  Queen Margaret was excluded from the Council completely. Edmund Beaufort's fortunes changed the moment his rival Richard of York assumed power as Lord Protector.  Richard had Beaufort imprisoned in the Tower of London and began looking for reasons to execute him.  Then Richard set about destroying Beaufort's reputation.  Richard's York supporters spread rumors that the king's child was illegitimate and that Beaufort was the father.  Then Richard got to work.  His months as regent were spent tackling the problem of government overspending.

   

Still, there was the curious issue of Margaret's pregnancy for Richard to deal with.  Margaret gave birth to a son in October 1453.  Margaret immediately took great pains to quash rumors that Beaufort might be his father. During her pregnancy, Henry had suffered a mental breakdown, leaving him in a withdrawn and unresponsive state that lasted for one and a half years. This medical condition, untreatable either by court physicians or by exorcism, plagued him throughout his life.

Unfortunately for Richard of York, the birth of baby Edward removed him from the succession to the throne.  The child was baptized Edward, Prince of Wales, with Edmund Beaufort listed as godfather.  If the King could return to consciousness, Margaret intended to persuade Henry to make Edmund Beaufort legal heir to the throne and protectorate of the Realm till the boy came of age.  Unfortunately, the King was too far gone to do any such thing, so Richard's dreams of being king were still on track. 

Then came the worst surprise of all... Henry woke up.

After a 17-month bout with mental illness, Henry VI remarkably recovered his reason in January 1455.  As historian Robin Storey put it: "If Henry's original insanity was a tragedy, his recovery was a national disaster." 

The first thing Henry did was demote Richard back to the ranks of civilian.  Then he lost little time in reversing most of Richard of York's actions.  This was a shame because Richard's decisions had drawn praise for his even-handedness and willingness to tackle long-standing problems.  Now his initiatives were cut short by Henry's return.  The reforms were swiftly undone and Richard’s intentions were eyed with suspicion by the court, members of whom were the ones who had been disadvantaged by the changes.

Henry then agreed to recognize baby Edward as his heir, putting to rest any concerns about a successor.  Richard was out of luck.

Edmund Beaufort's life was saved by the King's seeming recovery.  Edmund was freed from captivity and restored to his former position of power.  Having reconvened the court at Westminster by mid-April 1455, Henry and a select council of nobles decided to hold a great council at Leicester.  York and his closest allies anticipated that Edmund Beaufort would bring charges against them at this assembly.

Seeing Beaufort released and returned to favor was the last insult that York would take from his nemesis.   Richard of York was beyond bitter.  He was determined to depose of Beaufort by one means or another.  In May 1455 he raised an army and tracked down the Beaufort army headed to Leicester.  He confronted Somerset and the King in an engagement known as the First Battle of St Albans which marked the beginning of the Wars of the Roses. His son, Henry, never forgave York and Warwick for his father's death, and he spent the next nine years attempting to restore his family's honour.

Facing with being declared outlaws and traitors, the Yorks gathered an armed retinue and marched to stop the royal party from reaching Leicester, intercepting them at St Albans.

 
   

First Battle of St. Albans, 1455

On May 22, 1455, Richard, Duke of York engaged the forces of King Henry VI of England at the First Battle of St. Albans.

Richard's army outnumbered Henry's army 7,000 to 2,000.  Richard attempted to negotiate.  He told Henry to hand over Edmund Beaufort and he would walk away.  Henry stuck by his closest confidante and refused to give him up.

After two hours, Richard lost his patience and ordered the attack.   Dividing his forces in two parts, his first attack failed badly.  Warwick took the second unit through an unguarded part of the town's defenses, through back lanes and gardens. 

 
   

Suddenly Warwick discovered the market square where the main body of Henry's troops were talking and resting.

Henry's men were not yet expecting to be involved in the fighting.  Many were not even wearing their helmets.  Warwick charged instantly with his force, routing the Lancastrians.  Edmund Beaufort knew that Richard of York would never let him live.  When the Yorkists surrounded his building, Beaufort was killed in a last wild charge from the house where he had been sheltering.  Beaufort charged onto the main street and killed four men before being struck down himself.

His son, Henry, never forgave York and Warwick for his father's death.  He would spend the next nine years attempting to restore his family's honor.

The sudden attack and bravery shown by Warwick began his famous military career.  It would later help form his nickname as 'The Kingmaker'.

After the battle, Richard of York escorted King Henry back to London.  Richard was appointed as Protector of England by the parliament a few months later.  Henry VI sat in the Tower of London.  The War of the Roses had begun.

   

Battle of Wakefield, 1460

   

Over the next five years, there were rises and falls in the fortunes of both camps.  The Lancasters won the 1459 Battle of Ludford Bridge.  Warwick and Richard both fled across the English Channel for safety.

In December 1459 York and Warwick suffered 'attainder', a legal process that says their lives were forfeit and their lands reverted to the king.  Nor could their heirs inherit the lost estate. 

This was the most extreme punishment a member of the nobility could suffer.  Now Richard of York was in the same situation as Henry of Bolingbroke (the future King Henry IV) in 1398.  Only a successful invasion of England would restore his fortune.  Assuming the invasion was successful, York had three options: become Protector again; disinherit the king so that York's son would succeed; or claim the throne for himself.

It was finally agreed upon that Richard would not only rule, he would become king upon Henry's death.  Only one problem.  Within a few weeks of securing this agreement, Richard died in the 1460 Battle of Wakefield (as did Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury and father of Warwick the Kingmaker). 

Richard of York and his forces convened at Sandal Castle, Richard's stronghold.  A small detachment of Lancastrians were spotted nearly.  Instead of awaiting reinforcements, Richard led an impulsive charge on the Lancastrians.  It was a trap.  Two large forces of the Lancastrian army emerged from nearby woods and quickly destroyed Richard's men.  Richard, 49, and his son Edmund, 17, died in the battle.

Why Richard had exposed himself has never been clear.  One possibility is betrayal by some northern lords who Richard mistakenly believed to be his allies.  Another explanation was overconfident rashness on York's part.

On the order of warrior queen Margart of Anjou, the heads of Richard and his son Edmund were placed on pikes by the victorious Lancastrian armies and displayed at the Micklegate Bar in York.  Richard's head bore a paper crown.  The insult was clear... after all these years, Richard wore his cherished crown. 

Neither Warwick nor Richard's eldest son Edward, 19, was at this battle.  When Edward learned that he had lost his father and younger brother in the fight, he vowed to avenge the ambush. 

   

Battle of Towton, 1461

The death of Richard of York shook a lot of people up.  In a sense, the Lancasters had killed the future king.  This was not viewed well by the majority of people.  Richard had the same opportunity to murder Henry VI on two occasions, but had shown the restraint and respect not to do so. 

Instead, after the Yorkists had captured Henry in 1460, they had taken the political route.  Indeed, the English parliament passed an Act of Accord which would allow Henry to remain as king with the understanding that Richard would be Regent and would take over upon Henry's death.

The Act of Accord was a legally binding agreement.  In a sense, Margaret had broken the law.  Margaret did not care.  Margaret of Anjou would never accept the decision to remove her son's right to the throne under any circumstances.  Might makes right.  Along with fellow malcontents, she raised a massive Lancaster army that far out-numbered the York side.

 

After Richard of York was ambushed and killed at the Battle of Wakefield, nobles who were previously hesitant to support Richard's claim to the throne considered the Lancastrians to have reneged on the Act.   Edward found enough backing to denounce Henry and declare himself King. 

The Battle of Towton was to affirm the victor's right to bypass the law and rule over England through force of arms.  The battle was fought in the snow on 29 March 1461, near the village of Towton in Yorkshire.  This was the grudge match, winner take all. 

The York side was commanded by William Neville, Lord Fauconberg, a former Lancastrian who had changed sides to join his nephew Warwick.  Fauconberg faced long odds.  He was heavily outnumbered and part of their force under the Duke of Norfolk had not yet arrived. 

The initial fighting favored Lancaster, but Lord Fauconberg saw a way to turn the tables.  Taking note of the powerful wind at their back, Fauconberg ordered his archers to use the strong wind to outrange their enemies. 

 

This began a one-sided missile exchange.  The Lancaster arrows fell short of the Yorkist ranks while the York arrows forced the Lancastrians into abandon their defensive positions and retreat to safety. 

However, now that the York side had exhausted their ammunition, the stronger Lancaster army regrouped and prepared to charge.  Noticing the countless Lancaster arrows on the ground that had fallen short, the Yorkist archers plucked the fallen arrows in front of them and continued shooting.  The Lancaster side was hit with a crippling second barrage.

The ensuing hand-to-hand combat lasted hours, exhausting the combatants.  The 'better late than never' arrival of Norfolk's men reinvigorated the Yorkists.  Now they surged forward and routed their foes.  The fighting lasted ten hours.  Many Lancastrians were killed while fleeing; some trampled each other and others drowned in the river and snow streams, said to have run red with blood for several days.

Towton has been described as the largest and bloodiest battle ever fought on English soil.   According to chroniclers, more than 50,000 soldiers from the Houses of York and Lancaster fought for hours amidst a snowstorm on that day, which was Palm Sunday.  A newsletter circulated a week after the battle reported that 28,000 died on the battlefield.

   

Battle of Hexham, 1464

Following the 1461 Battle of Towton, Henry VI, Margaret, and her son Edward fled to Scotland to lick their wounds.  It turns out that Towton was not the end.  Margaret of Anjou still had fight in her.   Margaret of Anjou was hated by the English because she was so ruthless.  That said, did she have any choice?   Margaret's entire existence was wrapped around restoring Henry VI to the throne and protecting her son's birthright to be the future king.  It was up to her to fight her husband’s battles and her son's battles.

After the 1461 Towton battle, as acting head of the House of Lancaster, Margaret was able to get the families to regroup in the north, their base of power.  In 1463, Margaret instigated a rebellion to disrupt a peace process Edward had initiated with Scotland further to the north. 

Edward sent John Neville, Warwick's brother, to put down the rebel force.  John Neville was better known as Montagu since he was the 1st Marquess of Montagu.  Montagu effortlessly put down the poorly organized uprising.  Showing none of King Edward's conciliatory spirit, Montagu had thirty leading Lancastrians executed in Hexham following the battle.  Maybe this cold-hearted treatment was necessary.  After all, showing mercy had not solved the problem.  Like zombies, the Lancasters seemed to get back up and start fighting again.  The executions did the trick.  Lancaster resistance in the north of England collapsed. 

At the end of the battle Henry VI was captured again.  Strange as it must seem, this was now the third time the poor senile man was captured in battle.  Why they kept trotting this figurehead out on the battlefield is a mystery.

There is an interesting story attached to the Battle of Hexham.  Margaret insisted on viewing each battle herself.  She was a warrior Queen if there ever was one.  She also insisted Edward always be at her side for fear as assassination.  Therefore young Edward’s life was spent hurrying from battlefields to either triumph or exile.

   

After the Lancastrians were defeated at the Battle of Hexham in 1463, Margaret, seized with mortal terror for the life of her boy, fled with him on foot into an adjacent forest.  Driven by dread, she took any path she could find just to get as far away from her enemies as possible.  Margaret and Edward, 10, were ambushed by robbers who took Margaret's jewels and costly outer robes. 

While the outlaws quarreled over who got what, Margaret snatched her son up in her arms and fled to a distant thicket to hide.  When the robbers could not find them, they gave up and left.  After waiting hours to be sure the men were gone, Margaret and Edward came out from hiding.  Wandering lost through the forest, they soon fell into the hands of another outlaw later that night.  Queen Margaret led her boy up to him and said, “Here, friend, save the son of your king.”

Surprisingly, the robber took pity on them and hid them in a cave for two days.  The outlaw spotted one of Margaret’s captains who was searching for them and told the man where the Queen could be found them.  The captain took Margaret and Edward to Scotland, whence they finally escaped to France where they would live with Margaret's relatives as exiles. 

Meanwhile, Edward IV, England's first Yorkist king, took Henry’s crown.  Edward did a smart thing.  By law, he could have confiscated the estate of virtually every Lancastrian noble.  Most of England's leading families had remained loyal to Henry VI or remained uncommitted in the recent conflict.  Edward did indeed seize the estates of all the Lancaster nobles who had died during the fighting, but offered to let the rest keep their lands on promise of loyalty.  This worked like a charm.  Peace came to the land for the time being.  England was done fighting, but only for a while. 

In the aftermath, the new regime relied heavily on the support of Warwick and the Neville family who had been so instrumental in bringing Edward to the throne.  Not long after Edward IV began his reign, Warwick the Kingmaker turned into a Queen maker.  He began casting about for a suitable Queen for the bachelor king.  This endeavor would lead to one of the strangest stories in history.

   

 

 

 


The War of the Roses

ACT TWO: Warwick's Betrayal

 

The House of Neville

Nothing that takes place from here will make any sense unless we first discuss the House of Neville.

There are two things to know about the Nevilles.

First and foremost, the Neville wives reproduced at an unimaginable, unfathomable rate.

Second, they were the richest family in England which is a good thing because they had a lot of mouths to feed. 

 
 

So far we have talked about the Plantagenets, the Anjevins, the Lancasters, the Beauforts, and the Yorks.  Now it is time to discuss the Nevilles.

Like everyone else in this story, John of Gaunt is somewhere in the background of the House of Neville.  However, so is Joan Beaufort.  The House of Beaufort will soon figure prominently in our story. 

In particular, Richard Neville, or 'Warwick' as he was known, intermingled with the family of Richard, Duke of York.  For starters, Warwick's Aunt, Cecily Neville, was Richard of York's wife.

Warwick had two daughters.  Isabella Neville married George, son of Richard of York.  Anne Neville married Edward, Prince of Wales, but then later married Richard III, son of Richard of York. 

   

Cecily Neville and Richard of York

Cecily Neville married Richard of York in 1429.  Oddly enough, they grew up together in the same household.

Richard's mother, Anne Mortimer, died giving birth to him.  Richard's father, the Earl of Cambridge, was beheaded in 1415 for his part in the Southampton Plot against the Lancastrian King Henry V.  Although the Earl's title was forfeited, he was not 'attainted'.  The four-year-old orphan Richard became his father's heir.

Within a few months of his father's death, Richard's childless uncle, Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York, was slain at the Battle of Agincourt on 25 October 1415.  King Henry V allowed Richard to inherit his uncle's title and the lands of the Duchy of York.  The lesser title of the Earldom of March also descended to him on the death of his maternal uncle Edmund Mortimer, 5th Earl of March.

Here is what is interesting.  Richard of York may have been an orphan, but he was also to become the wealthiest and most powerful noble in England, second only to the king himself.

As he was an orphan, Richard's income was managed by the Crown.  The Wardship of such an orphan was therefore a valuable gift of the crown.  In October 1417 this was granted to Ralph Neville, 1st Earl of Westmorland, who adopted Richard probably because Ralph Neville didn't have enough children of his own.  Mind you, I am telling a little joke here.  Ralph Neville had a problem... he had lots of daughters and needed some suitable husbands for them.  Neville had fathered an enormous family (twenty-three children, twenty of whom survived infancy, through two wives).  With so many daughters needing husbands, Ralph Neville basically went out and bought one for Cecily.

As was his right, in 1424 Ralph Neville betrothed the 13-year-old Richard to his daughter Cecily Neville, then aged 9.  This was a bit on the weird side since Cecily was growing up right beside Richard.  This was like Greg marrying Marcia on the Brady Bunch.  However, they obviously overcame any reticence.  Cecily and Richard would have 13 children.  Like I said, those Neville girls knew how to reproduce.

The major point is that Richard of York grew up as a Neville and maintained close ties with the family throughout his life.  Richard's wife Cecily was a Neville and Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, i.e. The Kingmaker, was his closest advisor. 

 
   
 

Elizabeth Woodville

While the thirty year War of the Roses was quite the bloody matter, it had the redeeming quality of being centered around a very curious romance.   Believe it or not, Edward had the nerve to marry an upstart.  And get this... Edward did for it love.  Can you imagine that?  

The scandal was unbelievable.  No one married for love back in Old England.  Strangely enough, Edward's decision was so upsetting that it would create Chapter Two of the War of the Roses.

Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, 'The Kingmaker', was the man who had put Edward IV on the throne.  Warwick and Richard of York saw eye to eye on many things.  After Richard of York died at Wakefield, Edward IV, depended greatly on the patronage of Warwick for advice, for fighting men, and for political influence. 

Edward was 19 when he became king and Warwick was 33.  One can imagine Warwick's relationship with Edward was that of an older brother and a mentor.  At this point, Earl of Warwick saw himself as Edward's closest confidant and the power behind the throne.  One can also imagine that Warwick believed that Edward 'owed him' for making him King in 1461.  Three years had passed.  At the moment, Warwick was in France pursuing a suitable political marriage on behalf of Edward. 

Warwick had made preliminary arrangements with King Louis XI of France.  Edward would either marry either Louis' daughter Anne or his sister-in-law Bona of Savoy.  Warwick had done a good job... he had the daughter of the King of France lined up.  Not bad.   

But then Edward went and botched everything up.  Ordinarily an English King marries a suitable girl.  Then if by chance he met a hottie in the woods, he has the sense to take the young lady to a convenient cottage somewhere.  That is exactly what Edward had in mind when one day he just happened to meet Elizabeth Woodville in the forest of all places.  Their meeting reads like a Fairy Tale.  The only way to make it any better would be to name the forest 'Woodville' as well. 

   

Who was Elizabeth Woodville and what she doing here in Woodville?  Elizabeth was an impoverished widow with two hungry sons to feed.  In 1452 Elizabeth had married Sir John Grey.  John Grey was a supporter of the Lancastrian cause who died fighting at the Second Battle of St Albans in 1461 against Edward, Duke of York. 

Disastrously for Elizabeth, after Grey's death, her mother-in-law refused to pay her dower from the family estate.  Only the king himself would be able to enforce her rights.

As the wife of a leader on the losing side, Elizabeth Woodville was now a penniless outcast without an estate. She was forced to return to live with her parents in Grafton.

Three years had passed since her husband's death.  One day in 1464, Elizabeth learned that Edward was in the area to recruit new men for his army.  Even better, the king was hunting in a forest near Grafton.  Elizabeth deliberately hid behind a tree and stepped out onto the road with her two boys as young King Edward passed by on his horse.

   

Edward was a known ladies man with a different mistress stashed in virtually every shire of the Kingdom.  Noticing that Elizabeth was unusually beautiful, the king stopped. 

Edward climbed off his horse and began to chat.  Elizabeth used her opportunity to plead for the return of her husband's estates.  Edward was smitten.  He immediately suggested they meet at a nearby cottage to further discuss the matter of Elizabeth's lost estate, but Elizabeth turned him down.  Edward, a notorious womanizer, was unaccustomed to rejection.  He continued to pursue Elizabeth and she continued to keep him at arm's length. 

Elizabeth may have been a commoner, but she knew how to use her uncommon beauty to great effect.  Edward became very intrigued.  Here was a woman who had so much to lose if he failed to grant her wishes.  She maintained her virtue nonetheless.  Edward began to admire Elizabeth not just for her beauty, but for her determined refusal to be his mistress.

Finally Edward couldn't take it any more.  Edward was full of desire for this fetching woman.  Elizabeth not only had the beauty he desired in a wife, she possessed a strong, virtuous character.  Edward proposed and the two of them had a secret marriage. 

Soon after, King Edward IV, England's most eligible bachelor, shocked the nation when he announced he had taken a bride.  Elizabeth Woodville, the impoverished widow with two young sons, was the new Queen of England.

   

Angry Reaction to the Edward's Surprise Marriage

 

The wealthy elite of England were aghast.  The match was badly received by the Privy Council.  "Surely, Edward, you must have known that this is no wife for a prince such as yourself."

Yes, Edward knew full well that he was in trouble.  He had knowingly backed out of an arranged marriage without consulting Warwick, the man who had gone to considerable trouble to arrange a suitable marriage for Edward.  Warwick was furious about Edward's surprise marriage.  Edward had gone and done something stupid without even speaking to him.  Warwick was the one who would have to apologize to the King of France.  Warwick felt humiliated and betrayed.  After all he had done to help Edward, he expected to see some respect and maybe even a little gratitude. 

Margaret of Anjou was disgusted.  Margaret was still determined to win back her son's inheritance.  After the Battle of Towton, she fled with her son and husband to Scotland and then on to France. From there, Margaret fumed.  As soon as Edward had a male heir, it was all over for her son.

Edward's mother Cecily Neville was unusually bitter at her oldest son.  Cecily Neville was at the very top of the social scale in late medieval England, and held the highest status any woman could enjoy.  Cecily felt both Elizabeth and the entire Woodville family were social upstarts

"I think of this commoner strumpet waiting for the King of England under an oak tree, as if she just happened to be by the roadside, a hedge-witch casting her spells on a gullible fool such as yourself.  I did not raise you to fall for the amorous glance of a slut strutting her well-worn wares in the forest."

 

The Kingmaker

Warwick became the central figure in the Second Chapter of the War of the Roses.  He bore a grudge towards Edward that simply grew worse.  In a sense, he possessed the same burning ambition as his deceased ally Richard of York.  Warwick knew he could not be king, but he was willing to settle for being the man who decided who would be the king.  And for that matter, Warwick was determined to make one of the two daughters, Isabella and Anne, the next Queen. 

Edward's marriage to Elizabeth initiated the rift in 1464.  The animosity between the two men widened year by year.  Warwick was angry about everything to do with Edward.  And he hated Elizabeth just as much.  Elizabeth considered Warwick dangerous to the extreme.

Elizabeth was right, but her husband constantly sought to appease his former mentor.  It did not good.  Warwick did not approve of anything Elizabeth did.  With the arrival on the scene of the new queen came many of her relatives.  Elizabeth's twelve unmarried siblings suddenly became very desirable matrimonial catches.  Warwick watched with disdain as Elizabeth's marriage greatly enriched her siblings and children.  Some were appointed to royal offices, some married into the most notable families in England, some did both. 

The major reason for Warwick's hostility was his increasing loss of political influence.  These people were upstarts, pretenders. These people were getting in his way.  Warwick's animosity grew as the Woodvilles opposed policies favored by Warwick.  Seeing the upstarts successfully exploit their influence with the king to defeat him grated at Warwick no end.  Warwick refused to let his alliances with the most senior figures in the English Council and the divided royal family be compromised.  When Elizabeth Woodville's relatives, especially her brother Anthony Woodville, 2nd Earl Rivers, began to challenge Warwick's pre-eminence in English society and political circles, Warwick decided he had to do something.

Three years had passed since Edward's marriage to Elizabeth.  During this time, Warwick had become progressively more alienated from King Edward.  Now his intentions turned toward treason.

 

Games of Thrones Revisited

Rick's Note: Let's put our story on pause for a moment while I remind everyone that there are entire websites devoted to comparing the real life characters in the War of Roses to George RR Martin's fictional Game of Thrones characters.

Margaret of Anjou is Cersei.  Richard of York is Ned Stark.  Ned Stark had his head on a pike.  So did Richard of York.

Lord Walder Frey is the equivalent of Warwick.  Lord Frey supported Robb Stark’s military action by letting Robb's army cross the bridge.  However, Lord Frey expected compensation for his indispensable support.  Robb Stark promised to marry his daughter.  When Robb Stark reneged to marry for love, Walder Frey arranged the infamous Red Wedding. 

Game of Thrones is not a direct parallel of War of the Roses.  But there are times when the similarities are uncanny. 

Given my fascination with Game of Thrones, it is easy to understand why I am just as fascinated by the War of the Roses.  Look what ambition does to people.

Click the picture or this link War of Roses-Game of Thrones to view a fabulous video which explains the War of Roses in 6 minutes.  You will understand the whole story so much more clearly. 

 

Treachery

Warwick bore a grudge towards Edward that had become intolerable.  Years of hostility and a battle of wills had turned into open discord between King Edward and Warwick.  Warwick decided to switch his allegiance to the Lancastrian cause.  If a Kingmaker can make a King, then a Kingmaker can unmake a King. 

In the autumn of 1467, Warwick withdrew from the court to his Yorkshire estates.  Now out of sight, Warwick covertly instigated a rebellion against the king with the aid of Edward's disaffected younger brother George, Duke of Clarence, as well as encouragement from Edward's bitter mother, Cecily.  Keeping in mind that Cecily Neville was Warwick's niece, Warwick had little trouble gaining her support. 

Cecily had never forgiven Edward for marrying such a low-life.  From the start, Cecily had refused to subordinate herself to the new queen, styling herself as the true Queen, or 'Queen by right' as she put it.  Cecily had never quite gotten over the fact that she would have been the queen had Richard of York not been murdered.  Now her son Edward expected Cecily to show respect to this low-born woman.  Cecily would have nothing of it.  This Elizabeth woman was beneath her, so how could her son ever expect her to bow to such a woman who was beneath her? 

Edward could see there was no love lost between Cecily and her daughter-in-law Elizabeth.  To lessen tensions at court, Edward IV had new Queen’s chambers built at Westminster for Elizabeth just so Cecily could remain in her old chambers.  He had tried to mollify his mother, but it did no good.  Cecily had left for good in a show of disgust.  She had a meeting with Warwick to attend.

   

George Plantagenet, Brother of Edward

If someone was looking for a part to play in this ongoing drama, George Plantagenet was one role to avoid for sure.  First a loser, then a winner, then a loser again, this guy would eventually suffer a miserable fate.  The poor guy couldn't even get a decent picture drawn. 

George, born 1449, was the middle brother between Edward, born 1442 and Richard, born 1452.  When Edward became king, he treated both of his brothers well.  The new king was generous to his two younger brothers.  George, 11, was made the Duke of Clarence in 1461 and the younger, Richard, 8, became the Duke of Gloucester.  From this point forward, George became better known as 'Clarence'.

There must be something very seductive about the idea of becoming king.  Rather than settle for the good life he had, George was ambitious to become king himself.  Consequently George was easy prey for the Kingmaker's promises in 1469.  Not only could George marry his daughter Isabel, Warwick would make George the next King.  How could George refuse an offer like that?   So what if his generous brother Edward had to go?  Tough luck, bro.  George allowed himself to be used like a pawn in the ugly power struggle between Warwick and King Edward.

 

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch...

This excerpt from the White Queen written by best-selling author Philippa Gregory.  Here Edward is speaking to his wife Elizabeth about rumors of Warwick's plot.

‘But now I have to go north and deal with this,’ Edward complains to me.

‘There are new rebellions coming up like springs in a flood. I thought it was one discontented squire but the whole of the north seems to be taking up arms again. It is Warwick, it must be Warwick, though he has said not a word to me. But I asked him to come to me; and he has not come. I thought that was odd – but I knew he was angry with me – and now this very day I hear that he and George have taken ship. They have gone to Calais together.

God damn them, Elizabeth, I have been a trusting fool. Warwick has fled from England, George with him, they have gone to the strongest English garrison, they are inseparable, and all the men who say they are out for Robin of Redesdale are really paid servants of George or Warwick.’

Elizabeth thinks to herself, 'I am aghast. Suddenly the kingdom which had seemed quiet in our hands is falling apart.'

"It must be Warwick's plan to use all the tricks against me that he and I used against Henry." 

Edward hesitates, then begins thinking aloud.

"He is backing George now, as he once backed me. If he goes on with this, if he uses the fortress of Calais as his jumping point to invade England, it will be a brothers' war as it once was a cousins' war. This is damnable, Elizabeth. And this is the man I thought of as my brother. Warwick is my kinsman and my first ally. For God's sakes, this was my greatest friend. And now he has turned on me! And turned my brother as well.  And now I hear even my mother.  My God, my own mother."

Philippa Gregory, The White Queen
 

 
The Curious Blaybourne Allegation
   

 

 

The following remarkable conversation takes place in 1464 shortly after Edward has finally revealed his secret marriage to his mother Cecily Neville.  This excerpt was written by Philippa Gregory in her best-selling novel The White Queen

Jacquetta Woodville is known as the Lady of the Rivers due to her unusual gifts of second sight.  She is rumored to have remarkable powers of divination.  Cecily Neville is well aware that the Woodvilles are Lancasters.  Not only that, Jacquetta became a close confidante of none other than Margaret of Anjou, the virago Queen herself, long before all the fuss started. 

As we know, the Duchess of York absolutely hit the roof upon discovery of the marriage. To her, Elizabeth is the enemy.  Desperate to calm his mother, Edward asked Jacquetta to meet with Cecily, the Duchess, and attempt to restore peace in the family.  

Jacquetta is not welcome here.  No doubt it is Jacquetta's relationship with Margaret of Anjou, sworn enemy of the Neville family, that has raised Cecily Neville's darkest suspicions about Elizabeth Woodville.  Furthermore, Jacquetta was the only person in attendance at the secret wedding of Edward and Elizabeth besides the priest.  It is upon Jacquetta's word that Cecily Neville has to believe the wedding even took place. 

In attendance during this tension-filled meeting are several of Cecily's daughters including Margaret of York as well several of Jacquetta's daughters including Anne Woodville. 

Anne Woodville, Jacquetta's second daughter, narrates the story here.

Cecily Neville, Duchess of York, is speaking to Jacquetta and the various daughters in the room. 

"Nonetheless, Elizabeth was not my choice, nor the choice of Lord Warwick."

Her Grace is upset, her voice trembling with anger.

"It would mean nothing if Edward were not king. I might overlook it if he were a third or fourth son to throw himself away..."

My mother (Jacquetta) replies, 

"Perhaps you might. But it does not concern us. King Edward is the king. The king is the king. God knows, he had fought enough battles to prove his claim."

Cecily Neville retorts,

"I could prevent Edward from being king," Cecily rushes in, temper getting the better of her. "I could disown him, I could deny him, I could put George on the throne in his place.

How would you like that as the outcome of your so-called private wedding, Lady Rivers?"

The duchess' ladies blanch and sway back in horror.  Margaret (Margaret of York) who adores her brother Edward, whispers, "Mother!" but dares say no more.

Edward has never been their mother's favorite.  George, Edward's younger brother, is his mother's darling, the pet of the family.  Richard, the youngest of all, is the dark-haired runt of the litter.  It is incredible that the Duchess speaks of putting one son before another, out of order.

"How?" my mother says sharply, calling the Duchess' bluff. "How would you overthrow your own son?"

The Duchess replies,

"If he was not my husband's child..."

"Mother!" Margaret wails.

"And how could that be?" demands my mother, as sweet as poison.

"Would you call your own son a bastard? Would you name yourself a whore? Just for spite, just to throw us down, would you destroy your own reputation and put cuckold's horns on your own dead husband? When they put Richard's head on the gates of York, they put a paper crown on him to make mock. That would be nothing compared to putting cuckold's horns on him now. Would you dishonor your husband? Would you dishonor your own name? Would you dare shame your husband worse than his enemies did?"

There is a little scream from the women, and poor Margaret staggers as if to faint. My sisters and I are half-fish, not girls. We just goggle at our mother and the king's mother go head to head. It is like a pair of slugging battle-axe men in the jousting ring, each saying the unthinkable.

"There are many who would believe me," the king's mother threatens.

Mother stares at the Duchess with contempt.

"More shame to you then," my mother says roundly.  "The rumors about Edward's fathering reached England.  Indeed.  I was among the few who swore that a lady of your house would never stoop so low.  But I heard, we all heard, gossip of an archer named – what was it –’ my mother pretends to forget and taps her forehead. ‘Ah, I have it: Blaybourne. An archer named Blaybourne, who was supposed to be your amour.  But I said, and even Queen Margaret d’Anjou, sworn enemy of your husband, said that a great lady like you would not so demean herself as to lie with a common archer and slip his bastard into a nobleman’s cradle."

The name 'Blaybourne' drops into the room with a thud like a cannonball. You can almost hear it roll to a standstill.  My mother is afraid of nothing.  Mother is not through yet.

‘And anyway, if you can make the lords throw down King Edward, who is going to support your new King George?  Could you trust his brother Richard not to have his own try at the throne in his turn?  Would your kinsman Lord Warwick, your great friend, not want the throne on his own account?

Philippa Gregory, The White Queen

   

Now we fast-forward five years.  It is 1469 and Warwick is planning a revolt.  Warwick's plan is to unseat Edward IV and replace him with George, Duke of Clarence.  Warwick thought it useful to undermine Edward's legitimacy prior to launching the battle campaign by spreading an ugly rumor.  Mind you, Cecily Neville, 54, was Warwick's aunt and George's mother.  One has to assume that Warwick and George would not act without her permission. 

In 1469 both Warwick and George began to spread rumors that the king was a bastard.  People were asked to believe that his true father was not Richard, Duke of York, but rather an obscure archer named Blaybourne.  (Those Archers have always caused trouble!) 

With Warwick pushing for the crown to pass to her second son, George, Duke of Clarence, there is evidence that Cecily cooperated with the public shaming of her son.  Although Cecily said little about the matter in public, she didn't deny it either. 

After all, this was a woman who lived for her high status in the Royal Court.  This was not exactly the kind of information one typically uses to advance their social standing in snooty circles...

'Hey, girls, wanna hear some juicy gossip?  Guess what?  I fucked some archer kid back in 1442 and got knocked up!  Blimey, we've got a bastard for a king!  If that doesn't beat everything...'

One would assume a woman of Cecily Neville's importance would have spoken up after being accused of adultery. 

Instead... silence.  That speaks volumes without saying a word.

So was the Blaybourne rumor true or not?  There are four pieces of circumstantial evidence to support the claim.

 During the critical time needed for Edward's conception his father Richard, Duke of York, was away from his home base in Rouen, France, for a period of five weeks.  He was busy overseeing the Siege of Pontoise over a hundred miles away, a distance which necessitated several days of marching.  In his absence, his wife Cecily was (allegedly) having an adulterous fling with an archer by the name of Blaybourne.

  Further evidence reveals that Edward's ho-hum baptism ceremony was held in a side chapel in stark contrast to the glorious baptism of his next brother, Edmund.  

  Cecily Neville did not publicly recant.

 Oh, one more thing, Edward was tall and fair and did not look a bit like his father, short and dark
 

So was Edward illegitimate?   Maybe.  Maybe not.  650 years after the fact there are lengthy blogs all over the Internet written by people who claim to know the truth.  Each person offers compelling reasons why they are right and why the next guy or gal is wrong. 

If the allegation was true, the assumption would have meant that George was the rightful king.  Therefore Warwick was using this as his rationale to put the rightful king on the throne.  Oh, how noble of Warwick to spare England the shame of yet another illegitimate king!!

What makes all of this so hypocritical is that William the Conqueror was illegitimate.  No one questioned his right to rule, so why should it matter in the case of Edward?  After all, Edward's father never said a word.  No doubt Richard was able to count the weeks as well as anyone.  If anyone should be upset, it should have been him.  Therefore, what difference did it make? 

Here are the facts.  Richard of York loved his son Edward and the feeling was mutual.  Edward risked his life in battle after battle trying to make his father the next king.  When Richard fell, it was Edward who vowed to avenge his father.  Edward won the brutal Battle of Towton, the most horrible skirmish in English history, despite being badly outnumbered.  It takes considerable guts to stand up and fight against larger forces.  28,000 men died and now suddenly people are supposed to care who his mother slept with?  If anything, the entire nation should have been up in arms against his mother.  This was her doing, not Edward's.  I guess one has to be British to understand.

Why would Cecily and Warwick stoop so low?  Oh, forget about Warwick.  He had no more scruples than a shyster lawyer.  To me, the real story here is that Edward's mother would cooperate with this mockery.  Even if this story was true, what did Edward ever do to his mother to deserve her treachery?  Okay, so Edward married a sexy wood nymph instead of a proper French girl with a pedigree and a big dowry.  Get over it!!  

A normal mother would have been proud out of her mind.  Not Cecily.  Cecily allowed her contempt to dominate her sense of decency. 

Look at Edward... a courageous man who had fought bravely to become the King of England!!!!   Whether Edward was legitimate or illegitimate, for God's sakes, why would a mother hurt her son like this?  Even if Edward was illegitimate, it wasn't his fault.  Cecily had abandoned her son.  What in the hell was wrong with this woman?

 
 

1469 Rebellion

In 1469, with his influence at the English court waning, Warwick had won over Edward's brother George.  With full approval of Warwick's aunt Cecily Neville, Warwick pledged his daughter Isabel in matrimony and promised to install George as the next king with Isabel as queen.  The nineteen-year-old George had shown himself to share many of the abilities of his older brother, but was also jealous and overambitious.  In July 1469, the two sailed over to Calais where George was married to Isabel.  From there they returned to England, where they gathered the men of Kent to join the rebellion in the north.

Edward had taken his eye off the ball.  The main part of the King's army (without Edward) was defeated at the Battle of Edgecote Moor on 26 July 1469.  This defeat would not have been decisive if Edward himself had remained at liberty, but he walked right into a trap.  Heading north to meet up with his retreating army, Archbishop Neville, brother to Warwick, had been lying in wait.  Edward was subsequently captured at Olney.  Although treated with formal respect, Edward was nonetheless imprisoned.

Sad to say, Edward was largely to blame for the humiliating debacle of July 1469.  His complacency shows that he underestimated the extent to which he had lost popular sympathy.  In addition, he seemed unable to accept the extent of treachery within his own family.  Denial was the only possible explanation for his hopeful loitering for three weeks while the rebels organized.

His blunder into captivity further underscored his lack of appreciation for the danger he was in.  Above all, Edward had failed to appreciate just how little his government had succeeded in winning popular support when faced with a rival of Warwick's considerable reputation.

However, strangely enough, Warwick was unable to exploit his stunning victory.  He found himself politically isolated.  The English Council refused to cooperate.  Warwick needed more backing for his illegal usurpation, especially he intended to shove George, Duke of Clarence, down their throats.

The people of London took Warwick's triumph as a license for violence.  They began to riot and pillage.  There were local revolts throughout the land when some of the nobility seized the chance to settle their private quarrels without interference from the government.  To his dismay, Warwick discovered he could get no response to his proclamations calling for troops as long as the people believed the king was a prisoner.  Warwick shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment and resignation.  The people of England had spoken. Only the moral authority of the king could command their obedience.  In disgust, Warwick was forced to release Edward on 10 September 1469.  By October Edward's power was restored.  An important lesson had been learned here.  In order to rule a Kingdom, even a powerful man like Warwick could not succeed without the will of the people.  The coup d'état may have failed, but this was a very close call.  

One has to wonder.  Edward had been betrayed the man who had once been like a father to him.  He had been betrayed by his brother.  And he had been betrayed by his own mother of all people.

Prior to reading this story, the only place where people behaved this badly was on the Game of Thrones.  It is shocking to discover what I thought was escapist nonsense could be possible in the Real World.

 

An Uneasy Peace

During Edward's capture, Elizabeth had been terrified her husband would simply be murdered.  Why Warwick didn't simply murder Edward is an interesting question.  Warwick was apparently content with the overthrow of the Woodvilles.  Believing that he had secured Edward's submission, perhaps Warwick .  No doubt if Margaret of Anjou had been involved, Edward would be dead now.  The one thing Elizabeth knew was that Edward would never be safe as long as Warwick was around.  She was right. 

Edward had been released unharmed in October 1469.  At this point, Edward did not seek to destroy either Warwick or Clarence.  He allowed them to retain their estates and sought reconciliation instead.  In retrospect, Edward should have listened to his wife who had suggested destroying both of them for treason. 

Although the king refrained from punishing the rebels, he sought to reestablish a northern counterweight to the Nevilles by restoring the earldom of Northumberland to the dispossessed heir, Henry Percy. This turned out to be a fateful move because it meant depriving John Neville, who had remained loyal to the king when his brothers rebelled, of his title, lands and offices.

Edward sought to retain John's allegiance by compensating him with estates in the south-west, the new title of Marquess of Montagu, and the betrothal of his young son George Neville to the king's eldest daughter and current heir, Elizabeth of York. George was made Duke of Bedford in recognition of his future prospects.  All this, however, evidently failed to sufficiently mollify Montagu.

Soon after a private feud broke out in Lincolnshire between Sir Thomas Burgh of Gainesville and Lord Welles.  Warwick saw this as an opportunity to lure Edward up north into a trap.  In March 1470, Warwick and George helped enflame this ongoing skirmish into a serious problem.  Now King Edward was certain to ride up to the area and restore peace.  Edward did not suspect that Warwick and George would be waiting for him.  Their plan was to ambush Edward and assassinate him during the ensuing battle, thereby suffering the same fate as his father had at Wakefield ten years earlier. 

Warwick's plan had bad luck.  Sir Robert Welles, a co-conspirator, gave battle at Losecoat Field prior to planned trap and was utterly defeated.  He was captured holding documents that proved the complicity of Warwick and George.  Welles confessed his treason and named Warwick and George as the 'partners and chief provokers' of the rebellion.  Welles was beheaded, but Warwick and George were able to flee the country and go to France.

Warwick was relentless.  He vowed to try again.

 

The Unholy Alliance

Now an outlaw, Warwick turned to Louis XI to see if the French king would help him mount another rebellion.  Louis XI had a suggestion for Warwick.  Why not go talk to Margaret of Anjou?? 

Margaret despised Warwick.  They had been rivals for twenty years.  How could Margaret forget the Second Battle of St Albans?  This was the day she personally defeated the Yorkist forces of Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick.  Her triumph rescued her husband Henry VI being held illegally by Warwick.

With Louis XI acting as peacemaker, with some difficulty Warwick showed rare humility and reconciled with Margaret of Anjou.  Both parties reached the same conclusion... I don't like this person, but the enemy of my main enemy is my friend.

In return for the help of Margaret and Louis XI, Warwick vowed to restore King Henry VI back to the English throne.  Warwick also agreed to marry his second daughter Anne Neville, 14, to Margaret's son Edward of Lancaster, 17, to seal the deal. 

Louis was so pleased, he offered to back the next invasion.  Warwick was heard to say, "Louis, I think this is the start of a wonderful friendship."  Or was it someone else who said that?

   

The Little Monster

Edward of Lancaster or Edward of Westminster or Edward V, whatever, was the only son of Margaret of Anjou.  If Margaret's counterpart on the Game of Thrones is Cersei, can you guess who Edward's counterpart on the show might be?  Think about it.  I will answer in a moment. 

As presumptive heir to the throne, Edward was literally Margaret's only reason to carry on.  Margaret had likely committed adultery to conceive him, she had engaged in endless plots to restore his birthright, and she now she had done the unthinkable by accepting help from Warwick, the Devil himself.  Warwick was virtually Edward's last remaining hope of becoming king of England.

Prince Edward had been born right in the midst of Richard of York's surge to power in 1453.  Consequently, Edward's entire life had operated as a leitmotif for the War of Thrones, or Game of Wars, whatever.  Who could possibly count how many men had already died so this little kid could keep hoping to be king someday?  Nor was it over.  It was now 1470 and Warwick planned to attack again. 

 

 

Edward is none other than Joffrey, definitely the most hated character on the show (or at least he was until Ramsey Bolton came along).  There was an incident in Season One where young Joffrey told a horrible lie.  This lie caused the death of an innocent butcher boy as well as the execution of the loyal direwolf that had protected Arya from being stabbed by Joffrey's sword.  Watching that magnificent animal die broke my heart.

It turns out that Edward was just as vile as his fictional counterpart.  Reports paint Edward of Westminster as a bad seed, violent and obsessed with war.  There is a well-documented story that took place at the 1461 Second Battle of St Albans.  In this battle, Margaret clearly outfoxed Warwick and his brother Montagu.  Soundly beaten, Warwick and Montagu had no choice but retreat.  In the process, Warwick left behind the bemused King Henry, who had spent the battle sitting under a tree, singing.

Two Yorkists knights, Lord Bonville and Sir Thomas Kyriell, had sworn to let their prisoner come to no harm during the battle.  Even now after the fighting had ended, they remained beside him to ensure a safe transfer.  King Henry had promised the two knights immunity, but Margaret gainsaid him and ordered their execution.  

Margaret wanted vengeance, so she put the men on trial at which her son presided.

"Fair son", Margaret asked, "what death shall these knights die?"  

Despite Henry's desperate pleas for mercy, Prince Edward, 8, replied that their heads should be cut off.  The boy clapped gleefully as the men suffered their cruel fate.

   

There is an interesting footnote to this story.  As we know, what goes around, comes around.  John Neville, aka Montagu, was also captured in this battle, but he had been spared a similar execution.  It turned out he was saved by the Duke of Somerset, Margaret's main military advisor.  Somerset feared that his younger brother who was currently in Yorkist hands might be executed in reprisal.

Montagu was forced to watch in horror as these two innocent men were cruelly put to their death with Margaret and Edward laughing in the background. This cruelty left an indelible memory. 

Two years later, Montagu presided over the skirmish known as the Battle of Hexham.  Montagu was handed thirty leading members of the Lancaster side following the battle.  Recalling Margaret's vengeance, Montagu executed every one of the men without hesitation. 

 

Third Time is the Charm

Queen Margaret, our precious Queen Margaret, in desperate exile in France, running out of money and lost without soldiers, agreed to an alliance with the snake Warwick, formerly her greatest adversary.  Amazingly, she let her precious son Edward, Prince of Wales, marry Warwick’s younger daughter Anne.  The two parents agreed to invade England.  If they were successful, perhaps they could give the newlyweds a bloodbath for a honeymoon gift and put Margaret's son and Warwick daughter on the throne of England.

Warwick was getting pretty good at this.  First Warwick staged an uprising in the north to draw Edward away from London.  Then, with the King totally fooled and headed north, Warwick and George came in from behind.  They landed at Dartmouth and Plymouth on 13 September 1470, picked up a large following in Kent, then headed to London.

Among the many who flocked to Warwick's side was his younger brother John Neville, known as Montagu.  Montagu had decided to betray Edward. 

So what was Montagu's beef?   Montagu had been a York loyalist for over ten years.   Montagu had fought with his father and brother Thomas at the Battle of Blore Heath in 1459, and was captured and imprisoned in Chester Castle by the Lancastrians, for which he was attainted.  That problem was corrected a year later when John Neville became Lord Montagu in 1460 thanks to Richard of York's return to England.  Montagu was captured again at the Second Battle of St Albans in 1461.  Following his second release from imprisonment, he led the Yorkist forces in the north of England, defeating the Lancastrians at Hedgeley Moor and again at Hexham (both 1464).

In reward for driving out the Lancastrians, in 1464, King Edward IV made Montagu the Earl of Northumberland, a title which had long been held by the disgraced Percy family.  Montagu was awarded the Percy estates confiscated after the Battle of Towton.

However, when Henry Percy was rehabilitated in 1470, Montagu was forced to give up the earldom and many important offices in favor of his former foe.  Edward had felt compelled to do this for fear that troops from Northumberland would not be loyal.  Percy would keep them in line better Montagu.  Montagu was compensated with other territories, but without suitable estates or income to support such a dignity.  Montagu had not taken part in Warwick's first or second last rebellion.  He was disappointed when his loyalty to the king had not been rewarded with the restoration of his earldom in Norhumberland. 

Once a Neville, always a Neville.  Besides, what has Edward done for me lately?   Unbeknownst to Edward, John Neville, 1st Marquess of Montagu, decided to switch to the Lancastrian side

This time the trap set for the king worked Edward was completely caught out of position.  Once he learned of Warwick's sneak attack in London, he hurried back south.  Edward saw Montagu's forces waiting for him on the road and let down his guard.  Montagu was on his side.  Or was he?  Something about the way Montagu's army approached tipped him off.  Edward realized he would soon be surrounded.  Realizing he had been betrayed again and that Warwick's brother Montagu was against him, Edward headed for the English Channel as fast as he could.  On 2 October Edward fled to the Netherlands. 

The story of Montagu is interesting because it shows that Warwick and Edward were so evenly matched that even one defection could alter the balance of power in the flicker of a moment. 

Back in England, King Henry, now 49, was released from the Tower of London and restored to the throne.  Henry VI was just as doddering as ever.  He had to be led by the hand when he paraded through London.  He was so frail in body and feeble of mind, it is unlikely Henry even knew he was king again.  No matter.  Warwick got what he wanted.  Now for the second time, he acted as the de facto ruler of England in his capacity as Henry's lieutenant.  At parliament in November, Warwick made sure Edward was attainted of his lands and titles

The rebellion had forced the King to flee the country.  Right now things were looking pretty good for Warwick.  George too.  For his loyalty, George was awarded the Duchy of York.  George was the new Duke of York, just like his father and brother had once been.

As anyone who has watched the Game of Thrones will tell you, treachery can be very profitable.  Apparently it works in reality too.

 

Charles the Bold

Charles the Bold was the mortal enemy of Louis XI, King of France.  Charles held vast amounts of territory in France, more even than Louis himself.

Charles was offered the hand of Louis XI's daughter Anne.  The wife he ultimately chose, however, was his second cousin Margaret of York, sister to Edward IV.  Charles did this in order to ally himself with Burgundy's old ally England.

Louis XI had a fit and tried to prevent the marriage with Margaret.  He demanded the Pope refuse to allow the marriage (the pair were cousins in the 4th degree), he promised trade favors to the English, and he undermined Edward's credit with international bankers to prevent him from paying Margaret's dowry. 

Louis even sent French ships to waylay Margaret as she sailed to France.  Too late.  In 1468, Edward and Charles became good friends as they celebrated their new alliance over French wine.

   

Return of the Jedi

After being exiled from England, Edward landed in Flanders, the southern part of Holland, in early October 1470.  He had few men and little money.  Edward made his way to see Charles of Burgundy, his brother-in-law.   Charles greeted him warmly. Edward was also delighted to be reunited with Margaret of York, his favorite sister.

 

Although Charles was glad to see Edward, at first he refused to assist him.  Margaret pled Edward's case to her husband.  She pointed out that Edward's overthrow had considerably lessened Margaret's dynastic worth.  This, together with her regard for her brother who been cheated of his throne made her plead passionately that Charles support Edward and make measures to restore him.  It did no good.  Charles held his ground and paid little attention to Margaret's begging.

Then something curious happened.  You know how I am about 'Fate'.  Edward caught a huge break when Louis XI suddenly declared war on Charles the Bold.   After Warwick completed his overthrow, he sent a message to Louis XI, King of France, that he would send men to help Louis XI overthrow Charles of Burgundy, the hated enemy of Louis.  Louis was really excited.  Maybe this overthrow lightning could strike twice!

Charles was more irritated than threatened.  On a whim, he decided it was in his best interests to oppose the Lancastrian rule of England, backed as it was by this pipsqueak Louis XI.  Wouldn't it be fun to give Warwick and Louis the lesson they deserved?

On 4 January 1471, Charles agreed to help the King-in-exile regain the English throne.  At last furnished with money, on 14 March 1471, Edward and his youngest brother Richard landed with a small force at Ravenspur.  Doing their best to avoid detection, Edward first returned to city of York.  Suspicious, York opened its gates to Edward only after he promised that he had just come to reclaim his dukedom.  This was literally the same scenario as Henry Bolingbroke had taken seventy years earlier.  Lightning would indeed strike twice, just not the lightning Louis XI had hoped for. 

Edward was not about to settle for regaining the Duchy of York.  His ambitions were much larger.  As he marched to London over the next month, Edward picked up support.   The first to join him were Sir James Harrington and William Parr, who brought 600 men-at-arms to Edward at Doncaster.  Then someone unexpected joined him. 

   

Coventry

On the way from York to London, Edward decided to make a detour to Coventry and challenge Warwick who was encamped there.  Although Warwick's force had more men than Edward, the earl refused the challenge.  He was waiting for the arrival of Edward's brother George in order to use their combined strength to overwhelm the Yorkists.

When Edward IV learned what Warwick was waiting for, Edward sent his brother Richard to speak to George.

Six months earlier, Edward's brother George had opposed him during Warwick's successful third rebellion.  After sending Edward fleeing to France in exile, George was awarded the Duchy of York for his loyalty, making him the new Duke of York.  Surely that made George happy.  But it didn't.  George was beset with guilt and misgivings. 

Previously Warwick had promised to rebel specifically to put George on the throne.  That failed.  The second plot also had George headed to the throne.  That also failed.  Then the objective had changed for the third rebellion.  George first realized something was wrong when Warwick had his younger daughter, Anne Neville, marry Henry VI's son Edward of Lancaster in December 1470.  

Currently feeble old Henry VI was on the throne, not George.  When feeble old Henry did finally bite the dust, that would be Margaret's nasty son Edward taking Henry's place, not George.  Now that George was out of the loop, he realized Warwick could not have cared less about him. 

George was starting to catch on.  George was married to Isabel Neville and Edward, 17, was recently married to Anne Neville.  If his daughter Anne became Queen instead of his daughter Isabel, either way Warwick got what he wanted... one of his two daughters would be the next Queen and the Kingmaker would be in control. 

   

At this point, all Warwick wanted from George was more fighting men.  He realized that his loyalty to his father-in-law was misplaced.  Aware that his father-in-law was a lot less interested in making George the king than in serving his own interests, George realized he had been played.

Meanwhile, Warwick was taking George for granted.  Warwick assumed that George would be satisfied to stay on the Lancaster team because he was married to Isabel, Warwick's first daughter, and because he had just been handed the valuable Duchy of York.  Furthermore, through Isabel, George was currently co-heir to the vast Warwick estate.  Why would George jeopardize his current land holdings, plus his future inheritance from Warwick, the richest man in England? 

Nevertheless, George felt cheated.  There was no way in hell Warwick would ever put him on the throne.  George had a startling realization... his fortunes would be better off as brother to the king than as a nobody under Henry VI and then eventually Edward of Lancaster, the new Prince of Wales.

Right now his younger brother Richard had just asked to speak to him.  George knew what Richard wanted.  He suspected Richard had come to ask George to return to the House of York.  What should he do?  Shakespeare's 'false, fleeting, perjured Clarence (George)', discontented to now find himself fighting to maintain the Lancastrian dynasty, wanted desperately to reinstate himself in his brother Edward IV's favor.  George deserted his erstwhile ally Warwick, and rejoined his brother's forces

Reconciled, the three royal brothers moved towards Coventry.  Now George urged Warwick to surrender.  Infuriated with his son-in-law's treachery, Warwick refused to speak to George. 

Edward was not about to risk attacking Warwick with smaller numbers, so he turned again towards London.  Days later, when Edward entered London unopposed, George and Richard were at his side.  The old king greeted his usurper warmly and offered himself into custody, saying that he trusted Edward.  "My life will be in no danger in Edward's hands."

And with that, poor old King Henry VI was sent back to the Tower of London.  

 

The Battle of Barnet

Warwick was still fuming over George's last-minute defection back his brother Edward.  Was this a bad omen?  Montagu, Warwick's brother, had once been Edward's best commander.  It had been Montagu's defection during Warwick's third rebellion that had turned the tide against Edward in the first place.  Now George was defecting back to his brother's side.

Warwick dismissed the thought.  With George at his side, Warwick's victory was a slam-dunk certainty.  However, even with the defection, Warwick knew Edward faced long odds at Barnet, a small town about 12 miles northwest of London.  Warwick's army heavily outnumbered Edward's.  Lancastrian strength ranged around 15,000 men to 10,000 on the Yorkist side.  Furthermore, Warwick had the advantage of choosing the battleground.  Warwick chose a valley with rolling hills on either side.  In so doing, Warwick wisely chose the higher ground to the north.

Edward hurried to meet the Lancastrians hoping to surprise them.  Warwick knew the enemy was near, but since they arrived in the night was unsure of their exact location.  Edward deployed his trusted friend Lord Hastings on the left and entrusted his brother Richard (Gloucester) on the right flank. 

Edward asked George to fight at his side in the center.  He complimented George on his fighting ability as the reason, but in truth it was easier to keep an eye on their twice-defected prince there. 

As night fell, Edward put his plan for surprise morning attack in motion. Under a strict order of silence, the Yorkist army crept closer to the Lancastrians.  During the night, neither Warwick nor Edward spotted the opposing army, an event that proved crucial in the battle the next day. 

   

During the night, Montagu approached his brother Warwick to advise him that he felt the troops were skittish.  Montagu suggested that, as the highest-ranking commanders, he and his brother should fight on foot throughout the battle instead of riding on horse.  Soldiers believed that mounted commanders tended to abandon the men when the situation deteriorated.  By staying on foot, the two Nevilles would show their men that they were prepared to fight to the death, thus inspiring the troops to stand and fight harder as well. Warwick agreed and told his aide to go tether the horses to the rear near Wrotham Wood. 

   

Offset Lines

Two key things happened in the night. 

Warwick ordered his cannons to continually bombard the estimated position of the Yorkists' encampment.  This gave Edward the advantage of guessing where the enemy lie.  The Yorkists were able to sneak in so close that the Lancastrian artillery overshot their enemies.  Meanwhile the York side kept their cannons quiet and lit no fires so as to avoid betraying their location. 

The right wing of the Lancastrian army was commanded by John de Vere, Earl of Oxford.  Warwick and Montagu would command the center which straddled the road.  The Lancastrian left wing was headed by Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter.

Meanwhile, in the night, Edward had his brother Richard, the 18 year old Duke of Gloucester, extend his line hundreds of yards too far to the East.  Edward was unaware that there was no enemy to his front, just a muddy bog.  

What this meant was the opposing sides were not squared up.  On the western side, Lancaster's Lord Oxford was up on a hill looking down at the left flank of York's Lord Hastings.  These uneven lines would prove critical in determining the outcome of tomorrow's battle. 

As the dawn gave light, the opposing sides realized they were facing each other like a 3 on 3 basketball game.  Lord Oxford was on the hill opposite Lord Hastings, the Neville brothers and the Plantagenet brothers were in the center, but Richard of Gloucester was way off to the right squared off against a bog.

These offset lines would create remarkable consequences during the battle. 

   

Phase One:
Lord Oxford of Lancaster has the Upper Hand

 

   

The moment John de Vere, Lord Oxford (Lancaster), discovered that he was offset well to the outside of Lord Hastings (York), he ordered his men to charge down the hill before the York side could fully realign and defend themselves properly. 

In the mist, Lord Hastings had no idea he was outflanked by Oxford.  His men were not expecting such a strong force to attack them.  Oxford's group quickly overwhelmed the men under Lord Hastings who were caught off guard.

Yorkist soldiers panicked and fled towards Barnet, chased by the Lancastrians.   As it stood, some of the routed Hastings' men were so certain of defeat that they grabbed a horse and kept fleeing all the way to London twelve miles away.  There they spread tales of the fall of York and a Lancastrian victory.

The fog would work a strange magic all day long.  If the skies had been clear, the battle would have already been over.  The horror of seeing Edward's left line collapse would have caused the rest of Edward's men to quit on the fight and run for their lives.  Instead, due to the fog, visibility was low, so the two main forces failed to notice Oxford's victory over Hastings.  Unable to see what was going on around them to the west, the opposing center forces continued to fight.

Once Oxford's group of men reached Barnet, they were now an entire mile south of the main battle line.  Now this early success turned to disaster when Oxford's forces began pillaging.  Oxford's men lost interest in the battle and split off in order to begin looting the fallen enemies.  Assuming the battle was over, many of the men took the time to have a beer in Barnet and celebrate their victory. 

Lord Oxford was furious at the lack of discipline.  Receiving word from Warwick that he was still needed, Oxford began yelling and chasing after his men.  It took Oxford two hours to gather 800 men from the original 2,000 and lead them back up to the battlefield.  This unusual U-turn on the part of Lord Oxford's men combined with the fog and the offset lines would produce one of the strangest outcomes ever seen on a battlefield. 

   

Phase Two: Where is the Enemy?

'Fog of War' is a military term for the uncertainty experienced by participants in military operations.  Medieval battles were notorious for confusion because visibility and communication were often limited. 

In the case of the Battle of Barnet, the Fog of War took on a different meaning... the morning battlefield was totally covered in thick mist and fog. 

The fog created so much confusion that the fighting would have appeared almost comical if it weren't for the fact that brave men were dying on this day. 

   

At the same time as Lord Oxford collapsed the left side of Edward's line, over on the right, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, discovered there was no one in front of him.  In the fog, he could not see the enemy in front.  Confused, Richard decided his best option was to proceed forward and look for Lord Exeter's forces. 

And why was there no one in front of Richard?  On the previous day, Warwick had the luxury of setting his positions using the light of the day.  Seeing the swampy ground, Warwick correctly assumed no one would be stupid enough to attack through the wetlands.  Any attack would be easily repelled because the mud would bog down the enemy's momentum.  Warwick was pleased... this swamp would guard his left flank for sure!

While Oxford's men were busy in town having a beer, Richard was moving cautiously over on the right near the Hadley Woods.  Although Richard saw the ground was lowering, he continued forward.  When his men reached the boggy ground, Richard still could not see the enemy, but he was close enough that he could hear the sound of battle to the west. 

Richard suddenly realized the fog had given him a huge advantage.  His men could now attack Exeter from the side coming out of the fog to surprise them. Richard put his finger to his lips and whispered... "Silence!

The men slowly crossed the boggy ground like invisible ghosts.  They used the sound of the clashing steel to guide them.  Richard's men finally spotted Lord Exeter's Lancaster men at the edge of a muddy bog known as Dead Man's Bottom.

For the past hour, some of Exeter's men had helped fight in the center, but the majority just stood there looking for someone to fight.  Incredibly, because their enemy had lined up so far to the right, the Lancaster wing had no idea Richard's men were approaching.  Suddenly out of the gloom came 2,000 screaming maniacs running right at them!  The Lancaster men were terrified out of their minds.

   

Phase Three: The Sixty Degree Shift

Seeing Richard suddenly appear from the east was Lord Exeter's worst nightmare.  Shocked by the mysterious sudden appearance of the charging enemy, the Lancaster general did his best to rotate his line sixty degrees to face the east. 

Lord Exeter's bizarre rotation affected the center.  On the York side, Edward was forced to move to his men to the right to avoid splitting his forces.  The last thing he wanted was a gap between his men and Richard's.  Edward's movement to the right completely vacated the Great North Road.  Montagu had no choice but to give chase to Edward's movement.  As Montagu adjusted his forces, his men occupied the vacuum on the road.  First they moved to the south, then twisted towards the east. 

The ultimate result of this shift is that now Montagu's forces occupied the same spot on the Great North Road where Edward's forces had once been. 

Meanwhile, coming up from the south were Lord Oxford's 800 reinforcements.  Naturally they used the Great North Road as the fastest route back.  They had been ordered to attack Edward's men from the rear, an attack which would have been crippling under ordinary circumstances.   But these were not ordinary circumstances.  It was time for the Fog of War to change the course of history.

   

Phase Four: Betrayal

Think about this... who did Oxford's men expect to meet on that road? 

They expected to meet Edwards's men who had started the day occupying the southern part of that road. 

But who did Oxford's men meet on the road instead?   Montagu's men. 

Indeed, Oxford's ragged band of 800 men met Montagu's men who had rotated over and taken complete possession of the road.  And did the two Lancaster units merge to overwhelm Edward?   No. 

What happened instead is that Montague's soldiers assumed Edward's rear guard was coming in from the south to attack them.  Obscured by the mist , Lord Oxford's 'star with rays' banner was mistaken for Edward's 'sun in splendor' banner by Montagu's soldiers.  Without hesitation, Montagu's archers unleashed a deadly volley of arrows at their Lancaster comrades.
   

Lord Oxford's men quickly recognized that they were being shot at by their own men.  Oxford and his men immediately cried 'Treason!'  As staunch Lancastrians, they knew that Montagu, Warwick's brother, had previously fought for the York side.

Surely this unprovoked attack was proof that Montagu had defected back to the Yorkist cause.  Oxford's men briefly struck back, then decided the best thing to do was withdraw from the battle.  The damage was done.  The shouts of treason were taken up and spread quickly throughout the Lancastrian line, breaking it apart as men fled in anger, panic and confusion.

As the fog started to dissipate, once Edward saw the Lancastrian center disintegrate, he sent in his reserves to hasten the collapse.  The Lancaster leaders began to fall.  Although not killed, Lord Exeter fell first.  Amidst the confusion, Lord Montagu was struck in his back and killed by one of Oxford's men bent on revenge for the supposed treachery.

Witnessing the demise of his brother, Warwick fled.  The mighty Warwick was killed fleeing the field in a desperate attempt to reach his horse.  The Devil was dead, the battle was over.

   
   
Tewkesbury Cat and Mouse
 

Margaret of Anjou had never trusted Warwick.  And who could blame her?  Margaret had adopted a wait and see attitude about Warwick and his Grand Alliance.  Margaret had been very slow to follow up on Warwick's expulsion of Edward IV back in October 1470.

Despite her eight year absence from England, Margaret was strangely hesitant.  She had been asked to delay her return to England until Warwick had enough control of the government to satisfy her patron and backer Louis XI.  Six months after Edward's October overthrow, Margaret lost her patience and finally got moving.  She sailed for England on 24 March.  Uh oh.  A storm came up.  Back to France for safety.  Then another storm came up.  Back to France for safety.  Slowed by storms, Margaret and Prince Edward were delayed by two weeks.  They landed at Weymouth on 14 April, Easter Sunday. 

Ironically, this was same day that the disastrous Battle of Barnet was being fought.  Perhaps if Margaret's forces had been at Warwick's side at Barnet, the outcome would have been much different.  Who can say?   

So why wasn't Margaret at Warwick's side? 

Keep in mind that communication was very slow in those days.  Although Margaret had received the promising report that Warwick was now running the government in England, she had not received the reports that Edward had landed on the English coast on 14 March.  Those same storms which prevented Margaret from leaving France also prevented ships from landing in France to give her the updated information on Edward's new threat.  If she had known of Edward's threat to Warwick, she would have headed directly for London with her army instead of landing two hundred miles away in Weymouth. 

While Margaret sheltered at Cerne Abbey near Weymouth, the Duke of Somerset, Edmund Beaufort, brought news of the disaster at Barnet to her.  What a blow it must have been for Margaret to discover Warwick's demise.  Margaret immediately wanted to leave and head back for the safety of France.  Edmund Beaufort suggested they stay and fight.  Now that Warwick had fallen, Beaufort pointed out they might not get another chance like this.  This moment carried the sense of 'Last Shot'. 

Edmund Beaufort, 33, was the new commander of Margaret's army.  Edmund was the son of Margaret's one-time lover Edmund Beaufort, the man who had died at the First Battle of St. Albans back in 1955.  Edmund was also the brother of Henry Beaufort who had commanded the Lancastrian forces for nine years following his father's death.  Henry had died at the Battle of Hexham in 1464.  Now it was the junior Edmund's turn to run the show along with his younger brother John Beaufort.  One can only wonder if either son knew that their deceased father was also the likely father of Margaret's son Edward.  In other words, Prince Edward was likely their half-brother. 

Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction.

   

So what should Margaret do?  Margaret dearly wished to return to France, but her commander said that if they could join up with the powerful army waiting for them in Wales, they had an excellent chance of unseating Edward IV themselves.  Margaret turned to her 17-year-old son Edward and asked him what he wanted to do.

Prince Edward persuaded his mother to gamble for victory.  They had landed in Lancaster country.  Somerset and the Earl of Devon had already raised an army for Lancaster here in the countryside of west England.  Their best hope was to march northwards and join forces with the Lancastrians in Wales.  And with that, Margaret was persuaded. 

In London, King Edward learned of Margaret's landing.  Realizing the She-devil was loose in the west, Edward moved swiftly to meet her.  However he was unsure of her destination.  As it turns out, Wales was equidistant for both parties 125 miles away.  The advantage was on Margaret's side because she knew where she was going and Edward didn't.  However, Edward's advantage was that at first Margaret did not know he was chasing her, so she took her sweet time getting there.

The race to Wales was on. 

   

By 30 April, Margaret's army had reached Bristol on its way towards Wales.   On the same day, King Edward reached Cirencester, just 30 miles northeast of Margaret's position.  On hearing that Margaret was at Bristol, he turned south to meet her army. However, the Lancastrians made a feint towards Little Sodbury, halfway between Bristol and Cirencester.  Nearby was Sodbury Hill, an Iron Age hill fort which was an obvious strategic point for the Lancastrians to seize. When Yorkist scouts reached the hill, there was a sharp fight in which they suffered heavy casualties. Believing that the Lancastrians were about to offer battle, Edward temporarily halted his army while the stragglers caught up and the remainder could rest after their rapid march from Windsor. 

And with that, Margaret's trick had worked.  With Edward preoccupied with her Sodbury Hill diversion, she was able to sneak away.  The Lancastrians instead made a swift move north by night, passing undetected within 3 miles of Edward's army.  By the morning of 2 May, they had gained the safety of Berkeley Castle and had a head start of 15 miles over Edward in the race to the bridge at Gloucester.

Now King Edward guessed what Margaret was up to.  No doubt the Lancastrians were seeking to cross the River Severn into Wales. The nearest river crossing point they could use was at the city of Gloucester.  Edward sent his horsemen to deliver an urgent message  to Sir Richard Beauchamp, the Governor, ordering him to bar the gates to Margaret and man the city's defenses.  This was a critical move. 

Beauchamp's father had been a Lancaster.  What should he do?  Defy his king and let Margaret through?  If he told Margaret 'no', then he risked having her attack his city.  Given the mood she was in, this was a real possibility.  Why not let her through and avoid the bloodshed? 

Then it occurred to Beauchamp that he would likely have to face Edward the next day.  If he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders, he might want to follow Edward's orders.  Tough choice... risk the lives of the citizens of Gloucester or risk his own head? 

Edward was probably the better choice, so Beauchamp cleverly decided to support Edward IV.  On the morning of Friday, 3 May 1471, Beauchamp threw aside his father's Lancastrian ties and held the gates of Gloucester closed against Queen Margaret.  This prevented her army's use of the Severn Bridge and her escape route into Wales.  Beauchamp wasn't done yet.  As Margaret moved north, he harried the Lancastrian rear and captured some guns on the road to Tewkesbury.  Beauchamp fought at the battle of Tewkesbury and was knighted.  Quite likely, this one man changed the course of English history.

When Beauchamp refused Margaret's summons to let her army pass, Margaret and Edmund Beaufort had enough men to take the bridge by force... but they didn't have enough time.   Margaret realized she had insufficient time to storm the city before Edward's army arrived.   Instead, her army made another forced march of 10 miles along the river to Tewkesbury.  Margaret was racing Edward to beat him to the next bridge at Upton-upon-Severn, 7 miles further up the river.  

Edward meanwhile was in a hurry.  He had marched no less than 31 miles, passing through Cheltenham in the late afternoon.  The day was very hot, and both the Lancastrians and Edward's pursuing army became exhausted from all the marching.  The Lancastrians were forced to abandon some of their artillery, which was captured by Yorkist reinforcements trailing Margaret from Gloucester.  This would prove significant.

At Tewkesbury, the tired Lancastrians halted for the night.  Most of their army were footmen, and unable to continue further without rest.  Even the mounted troops were weary.  Hearing from his scouts of Margaret's position, Edward drove his army to make another march of 6 miles from Cheltenham to a spot near Tewkesbury, finally halting 3 miles from the Lancastrians. The Lancastrians knew they could retreat no further before Edward attacked their rear.  Edward had Margaret cornered.  It was time to stop running.  

The Battle of Tewkesbury
 

 

Margaret's decision to stand and fight at Tewkesbury was an all or nothing gamble, perhaps the last desperate roll of the dice for a queen robbed of a kingdomIt is likely there were plans for Prince Edward to take over from his ailing father Henry if the Lancasters were victorious today.  Prince Edward's reputation was riding on the outcome.  The Prince would need to prove that he was greater than his father, a weakling who had allowed England to slide into a crippling mess.  The Prince would need to prove that he was greater than his opponent, the formidable King Edward IV. 

That would not be easy.  King Edward had built his reputation on martial prowess and had won his throne in battle twice over... Towton and Barnet.  It must have been intimidating for Margaret and Prince Edward to see the three brothers - Edward, George, Richard - battle-tested, mounted on horseback, united in arms.  There was no escape route for Margaret and Edward.  Nor would there be any mercy.  This was it.  This was a fight to the finish, Prince Edward versus King Edward. 

 

Unlike the Battle of Barnet where Edward had won a fluke victory against a superior army, this time he had most of the advantages.  The new Lancaster leader, Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, had his back to the river with no easy escape routes.  Even if Beaufort's men ran, they were on foot while Edward had mounted men if necessary. 

Based on his experience at Barnet, Edward noted the Lancasters had chosen the location again.  Assuming there must be a reason, Edward was concerned about a thickly wooded park to the left of his army.  Suspecting that hidden Lancastrians might attack from this quarter, he ordered 200 mounted spearmen to occupy a corner of the woods and prevent the Lancastrians from making use of this cover to ambush his left flank.  Edward told the horsemen to act on their own initiative if they saw an opportunity. 

Another key move was to move Hastings to the right and Richard to the left.  Hastings, 40, was Edwards best friend.  Friendship aside, Edward put his brother Richard on the left next to those dangerous woods.  Edward was showing his experience.  He had fought so many battles at this point that he had become a superior general.  The Battle of Barnet had shown him that even though Richard was only 18, he was a talented fighter.

   

As usual, the Lancasters had more men.  Their 6,000 matched up well against the 5,000 Yorkists.  Edward soon discovered why Somerset had chosen this location.  The hilly terrain contained valleys, disguised gullies and thick hedges, all of which made it difficult for Edward to attack uphill.  So Edward was content to bombard the Lancasters with arrows and cannon. 

The War of the Roses was now in its 20th year.  The War had been going on for so long that artillery had recently been introduced.  Understandably, there was great terror attached to the horrible sound of the exploding cannons and the whistling cannonballs.  Beaufort could see his men were terrified under the onslaught.  The barrage of arrows was frightening as well.  Few of the men had shields and there was nowhere to go for protection.  The psychological aspect of the bombardment was devastating.  Since Somerset had left his artillery behind in order to pick up speed, he could not fire back. 

Although Commander Beaufort's position was almost unassailable, for some unknown reason, after the battle began, he moved down from the heights and attacked Edward IV's flank.  He must have felt trapped and could not sit still any longer... his men were dying without even fighting!  

   

Either to escape the arrows and cannonballs or because he saw an opportunity to outflank King Edward's isolated men near the woods, Beaufort (Somerset) decided to be aggressive.  He led part of his men through a gulley that hid them from sight to attack the York left flank defended by Richard, Duke of Gloucester.  Although taken by surprise, Richard and his men resisted stoutly, beating back Somerset's surprise attack among the hedges, tree and embankments.

 

   

At the vital moment, the 200 spearmen Edward had posted earlier in the woods attacked Somerset on his exposed right flank and rear.  This was the 'Kill Shot'.  Somerset's desperate gamble had failed.  Beaufort was assailed by both the king and Richard, Duke of Gloucester, and was soon put to flight.  His rash conduct had decided the battle in favor of the Yorkists Now badly out of position, the Lancaster army was easily routed.  The surviving army tried to escape across the Severn River, but it did little good.  Most of them couldn't swim anyway.  Edward's horsemen gave easy chase, cutting the enemy down as they fled.

Edmund Beaufort was caught and beheaded.  His younger brother John Beaufort who had fought beside him was executed as well.  With the death of John and Edmund, the legitimate male line of the Beauforts ended.  This line which dated 120 years back to their forefathter John of Gaunt was gone for good. 

Edward, the Prince of Wales, was found full of grief in a grove.  Richard and George were summoned.  Edward tearfully pleaded for his life to George for mercy.  He reminded George that he had sworn allegiance to Edward in France barely a year before.  Edward begged George to honor his oath and set him free.   

If anything, that made George mad.  The original plan had been to make George king, not Edward.  George refused to listen to the Prince’s whining.  With little fanfare, he had the lad summarily executed on a makeshift block in the field.

   
United we Stand, Divided we Fall

The indomitable Queen Margaret was defeated at last.  She was crushed by the death of the son Edward she had fought so long and hard for.  After she was taken captive by William Stanley, Margaret and her senile husband Henry were taken back to London with King Edward.  Henry died in the Tower of London, presumably murdered during a midnight visit from Edward and Richard.  Henry was only 49, but seemed much older.  One can only assume his death was unannounced and that he was quickly forgotten.  What a sad epitaph. 

Margaret of Anjou stayed imprisoned in England for five years.  Those were surely difficult years for her.  Margaret was understandably heartbroken by the loss of her only son, her entire reason for existence.  During her imprisonment, she had plenty of opportunity to reflect on her decision to trust her fortunes to Richard Neville, the erstwhile Earl of Warwick better known as the Kingmaker. 

What bothered Margaret was just how close she had come to fulfilling her dream.  Margaret had never trusted Warwick, but cooperated anyway because he offered her the best chance to put her son on the throne.  Unfortunately, her distrust ending up costing her dearly.  

Her problem was deciding who she should listen to... Warwick or Louis XI. 

   

Warwick was in a tough spot.  After his overthrow of Edward in October 1470, he had promised King Louis XI to declare for France and against Charles in Burgundy.  Now to his consternation, Warwick's hands were tied.  He could not attack Charles because the London merchants preferred to support Charles the Bold of Burgundy for financial reasons.  Consequently the London bankers refused to loan Warwick enough money to help guard against a potential counterattack by Edward, much less attack Charles.  Louis XI lost his patience with Warwick and declared war on Charles the Bold himself.  Big mistake.  Charles had seen Edward's presence as a refugee in Flanders as a nuisance.  However, once Louis XI irritated him sufficiently, Charles decided to sponsor Edward's return to England to overthrow Warwick.  The politics backfired for virtually everyone in this story but Edward IV.

If Margaret had ignored Louis XI's command to delay her trip to England, the outcome would have likely been different.  There is one constant theme in these stories... the two sides were evenly matched.  It always came down to who defected at the last minute or who showed up at the last minute to shift the balance.  In Margaret's case, her delay cost her dearly.  By dawdling in France for six months after Edward's October 1470 overthrow, Margaret was unable to help Warwick thwart Edward's miraculous comeback.  

   

But then again, perhaps some things are meant to be.  The Lancasters should never have lost the Battle of Barnet.  Never.  If Margaret had been there, they would have been too strong.  If George had not changed sides at the last minute, they would have been too strong.  If not for the Fog of War, Montagu would never have mistaken Lord Oxford for the enemy. 

No doubt the Weymouth decision also weighed upon Margaret's thoughts.  The moment she landed in Weymouth, Margaret discovered that everything that could go wrong had gone wrong so far... Edward IV had returned, Warwick had been defeated at Barnet, and George, the Duke of Clarence, had defected back to his brother.  Margaret's instinct was to flee to safety while she still had ships in the harbor, but she had let her son talk her out of it.  So much for the wisdom of a cocky teenager with little military experience other than watching battles while hiding behind a tree at his mother's side.

The main upshot of the Tewkesbury defeat is that Edward and his brothers executed every last Lancaster of note who had fought against them in this battle.  Once Prince Edward was killed and Henry VI was executed, the noble House of Lancaster was officially eliminated in the male line.  Margaret of Anjou was faced with the bitter fact that the vast House of Lancaster had been exterminated trying to put her son on the throne. 

Margaret had gone from being Queen of England to being a childless widow. She remained in royal custody for the five years until she was finally ransomed by Louis XI in 1476 and returned to France.  While in France, she was practically disowned by her elderly father and was forced by the king to renounce any claim to her inheritance as a way of paying for her large ransom.

In 1482 Margaret, the woman who had acted as king, died alone.  She was a broken woman with little to call her own.  She was 52. This was indeed a tragic end for the woman who had once been so powerful in an age dominated by men.

 

   

This picture depicts a group of men meeting to discuss solutions to the animosity between the Lancasters and the Yorks.  In order to show where their loyalties lay, they each picked a red rose or a white rose ahead of time so that everyone in the group knew where they stood.

Margaret was not the only desolate one.  Now that the House of Lancaster had lost all their leaders, the House became extinct in the male line.  The Lancastrian cause was lost forever.  Consequently, the Battle of Tewkesbury marked the end of hostility between the Houses of York and Lancaster.  

One would assumed the Wars of the Roses ended at Tewkesbury Abbey, where the final petal of the red rose fell to the ground. 

Nevertheless, the War was not over.  Although the War went dormant, it awaited another chance to erupt anew.  The new opponent would not be Lancasters.  That fight was over.   Instead, a whole new set of faces would appear to take up the ancient battle. 

 

 

 


 

The War of the Roses

ACT THREE:  Richard III

 

The star of Third Act in the War of the Roses is none other than Richard III.  And who might be Richard the Third?  We know Richard better as Edward IV's younger brother Richard, the Duke of Gloucester. 

Richard the Third made a lot of enemies, but his worst enemy was William Shakespeare.  William Shakespeare had a field day at Richard's expense with Richard III, considered one of The Bard's ten best plays.  

Before Shakespeare was finished, Richard had murdered Henry VI, his brother George, his nephews, and even his own wife during his well-plotted ascent to the throne.  In case these heinous murders were insufficient clues, Shakespeare dressed Richard in black and accentuated his a hunchback to emphasize who the villain was. 

   

Anne Neville

Following Prince Edward's death at Tewkesbury, his wife Anne Neville became the grand prize.  Anne Neville was born into the wealthiest and most politically powerful family in the kingdom. Youngest daughter of the Earl of Warwick, Anne watched her father make a king out of Edward of the House of York, and then change his alliance to the House of Lancaster.  Anne, raised a York, was expected to change her loyalties as well.

In 1470, Anne had been the trophy dangled by her father Warwick to secure the backing of Margaret of Anjou in the newest attempt to overthrow King Edward IV.  During the desperate race to reach Wales, Anne chose to stay with the army.  She marched with them for more than a hundred miles, from Weymouth to Tewkesbury where Edward’s pursuing army caught them, killing Prince Edward and capturing Margaret of Anjou.

Anne was a widow at 15, far too wealthy and powerful to be left to chance. Her sister Isabel, now a loyal supporter of the House of York thanks her side-switching husband George, scooped up the girl and took her into their keeping.  Isabel swore she was protecting Anne, but in reality this was more likely a form of house arrest.

Anne became the subject of dispute between George, Duke of Clarence, and his brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester, who had stated to George his desire to marry her.  Anne and her sister Isabel, George's wife, were heiresses to their parents' vast estates.  George was anxious to secure the combined inheritance of both sisters!  George thereby treated Anne as his ward and opposed her getting married.  Strange stories ensued.  One wild tale had George hiding Anne in a London diner, disguised as a servant, so that his brother would not know where she was.

Nonetheless, Richard Gloucester tracked her down and escorted her for safekeeping at the Church of St Martin le Grand out of George's reach.  In order to win the final consent of his brother George to the marriage, Richard renounced most of Warwick’s land and property, including the earldoms of Warwick (which the earl had held in his wife’s right) and Salisbury and surrendered to George the office of Great Chamberlain of England.  It was a high price to pay. 

   

In this passage from The Kingmaker's Daughter, Anne Neville is talking to herself shortly after the fall of Tewkesbury:

One of the guards has stumbled while mounting his horse.  Frightened, his horse shies away, knocking the horseman to the ground.  Seeing the horse rear, King Edward puts his arm around his wife in an unconscious gesture to protect her.  Everyone is looking that way.

I snatch off my glove and, in one swift gesture, I throw it towards Richard.  He catches it out of the air and tucks it in the breast of his jacket.  Nobody has seen it.  Nobody knows.

The guardsman steadies his horse, mounts it, and nods his apology to his captain.  The royal family turns and waves to us.  Richard looks at me, buttoning the front of his jacket, and smiles at me warmly, assuredly, to denote he understands the meaning of my gesture.

Richard has my glove, my favor. It is a pledge that I have given in the full knowledge of what I am doing.  Because I never want to be anybody’s pawn again.

Philippa Gregory, The Kingmaker's Daughter

   

The Strange Saga of George

So what exactly did Shakespeare mean by the immortal line 'false, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence, that stabbed me in the field by Tewksbury!'

Shakespeare was referring to the ghost of Edward, Prince of Wales, stabbed to death in cold blood following the Battle of Tewkesbury.  George, better known as 'Clarence', is dreaming of the evils he has done during his fitful sleep preceding his imminent execution.

   

Following Warwick's death in the 1471 Battle of Barnet, George, Duke of Clarence, was consumed by a serious overdose of greed.  Married to Isabel, one of Warwick's two daughters, George went ahead and confiscated the vast estates of the earl.  George had been be a very bad boy.  He had betrayed his brother Edward.  Later he betrayed Warwick, his father-in-law.  In George's case, cheating had been profitable.  In March 1472 by right of his wife Isabel, George became the Earl of Warwick and Salisbury.  

George was now rich beyond his wildest imagination.  Nevertheless, he was greatly disturbed when he heard that his younger brother Richard was seeking to marry Warwick's younger daughter Anne, Isabel's sister.  George was upset because Richard was also claiming some part of Warwick's lands as part of the wedding package.  George refused to part with a single nickle, so a violent quarrel between the brothers ensued.  After George failed to prevent Richard from marrying Anne, the quarrel grew worse.  Finally, in 1474 King Edward had to step in to settle the dispute, dividing the estates between his brothers.  [It must be tough being rich, but then I wouldn't know.]

In December 1476, George's wife Isabel died two months after giving birth to a short-lived son named Richard.  Though Isabel's death was likely the result of either consumption or childbed fever, George was convinced she had been poisoned by Ankarette, one of her ladies-in-waiting, operating in cahoots with his enemy Elizabeth Woodville.  George alleged that King Edward’s wife was guilty of witchcraft in this matter.  Try to imagine how well that sat with King Edward.

George bullied a jury into convicting Ankarette of murder by poisoning, then had her hanged immediately after trial.  Clarence's mental state, never stable to begin with, deteriorated from that point on. 

   
   

Long Live the King... or maybe not

Following Tewkesbury, there were twelve years of peace in the land.  With the Lancastrian line virtually extinguished, Edward faced no more rebellions after his restoration Edward and his wife Elizabeth had been through a lot.  Amazingly, Elizabeth had kept the children safe while Edward was constantly fighting to keep his throne or regain his throne.  Three of his children would figure prominently in Act Three. 

 Elizabeth of York (1406-1503)
 Mary of York (1467-1482)
 Cecily of York (1469 – 1507)
 Edward V of England (1470 – 1483)
 Margaret of York (10 April 1472 – 11 December 1472).
 Richard of Shrewsbury (1473 – 1483)
 Anne of York (1475 – 1511)
 George Plantagenet (1477 – 1479).
 Catherine of York (1479 – 1527)
 Bridget of York (1480 – 1517)

Tragically, Edward died
unexpectedly after a short illness on 9 April 1483.  Everyone was in shock.   There would never have been an Act III to the War of the Roses if Edward had reigned just a bit longer.  Unfortunately, Edward's untimely death in 1483 would reignite the War of the Roses.   In the picture, dark-haired Richard stands at King Edward's side.  How fitting that Richard III would become the villain of Act III. 

 

Richard's Treachery

When King Edward's health began to fail, at least he had sufficient time to put his affairs in order.  Edward was comforted by the knowledge that the ever-present issue of succession was not a problem.  Elizabeth had given birth to two healthy, handsome, well-educated boys, Edward, 12, and Richard, 10. 

Edward smartly named Richard, his trusted brother, as protector of his two sons.  On second thought, maybe not so smart. 

On the death of Edward IV, on 9 April 1483, his twelve-year-old son, Edward V, succeeded him while Richard, the current Duke of Gloucester, was named Lord Protector of the Realm.  Richard moved swiftly and secretly to prevent the Dowager Queen Elizabeth from exercising power.

Richard left his base in Yorkshire for London.  On 29 April, as previously agreed, Richard was joined on the route by his cousin the Duke of Buckingham.  They met Anthony Woodville, the Dowager Queen Elizabeth's brother at Northampton.

Anthony Woodville was escorting young Edward at the Queen's request to London with an armed escort of 2000 men.  Richard and Buckingham's joint escort was of 600 men.  The young king was not there.  He had been sent further south to Stony Stratford. 

Richard politely invited Anthony Woodville, his nephew Richard Grey (son of Elizabeth by a prior marriage), and Thomas Vaughan to dinner.  After the meal, they were suddenly arrested on the charge of treason against the Lord Protector.  On June 25, they faced a tribunal led by Henry Percy, 4th Earl of Northumberland.  The three men were found guilty and executed. 

After having Lord Rivers (Woodville) arrested, the two dukes moved to Stony Stratford where Richard falsely informed the young king of a plot aimed at denying him his role as Protector, adding that the 'perpetrators' had been dealt with.  Richard proceeded to escort the young king to London on 4 May.

Richard suggested to the boy that he would be the safest and most comfortable in the Royal Apartments of the Tower of London where kings customarily awaited their coronation.  The young Prince thought he was a guest, but in reality he was a prisoner. 

 

Queen Elizabeth and Lord Hastings

   

After the unexpected death of Edward IV on 9 April 1483, the dowager queen knew there could be trouble.  She sought to monopolize political power for her family by appointing family members to key positions.  She also tried to circumvent Richard, 31, Edward's younger brother, by rushing the coronation of her young son Edward V, 12, as king.

Lord Hastings was probably the most loyal friend Edward IV ever had.  By all accounts, Hastings had also been friendly with Richard.  Conversely, Lord Hastings was hostile to the Woodville family.  The Woodville family was not popular with many due to their quest for wealth and power.  Desiring to frustrate the ambitions of the Woodvilles, Lord Hastings turned to the new king's uncle - Richard, Duke of Gloucester, brother of Edward IV.

Hastings checked Elizabeth's maneuvers and kept Richard informed of her actions.  Alerted by Hastings, Richard intercepted the young king and his Woodville relatives as they made their way to London i April 1483. 

Hastings now supported Richard's formal installation as Lord Protector and collaborated with him in the royal council.  In other words, Hastings had been instrumental in helping Richard try to grab the throne for himself.  On the other hand, no one knows how he felt about Edward V being held captive.

Affairs changed dramatically on 13 June 1483.  During a council meeting at the Tower of London, Richard, supported by the Duke of Buckingham, suddenly accused Hastings and two other council members of having committed treason by conspiring against his life with the Woodvilles.  While the other alleged conspirators were imprisoned, Lord Hastings was immediately beheaded on Richard's orders over a log in the courtyard of the Tower.  There was no trial.

The execution of the popular Hastings remains controversial to this day.  No strong evidence of a 'Hastings conspiracy' has ever surfaced. 

   

Rick Archer's Note:  Susan Higginbotham (source) is the author of five historical novels about medieval England.  I have taken excerpts from her excellent article on Lord Hastings. 

As with so much involving Richard III, there are conflicting theories as to why William Hastings met his death at the hands of Richard, Edward IV’s supposedly devoted brother.  Richard himself claimed that Hastings had been plotting against him, though he never produced any proof to substantiate his claims.

Those defenders of Richard who have taken him at his word suggest that Hastings was driven into conspiracy by concerns that under the protectorate, he would lose the power and prestige he had enjoyed during Edward IV’s reign or by his suspicion that Richard meant to take the throne for himself.

The alternative explanation is that there was no plot at all and that Richard, having planned to seize the crown, ruthlessly eliminated Lord Hastings as the man most likely to stand in his way.

It is probably not a big surprise to readers of this blog that I lean toward the second theory: that of there being no plot by Hastings at all.  Richard had recently had three of the men closest to Edward V—his uncle Anthony Woodville, his half-brother Richard Grey, and his chamberlain, Thomas Vaughan—arrested on equally vague charges of conspiracy, which would never be proven.  They too would be executed without trial.

Soon came the lies about the legitimacy of the Woodville children.  Richard and his followers preached the story that Edward IV had been pre-contracted to a woman named Eleanor Butler before his marriage to Elizabeth Woodville.  This, in their opinion, made the latter marriage invalid and the resulting children bastards.  Therefore Richard was the rightful king, not Edward V (sitting in the Tower of London) or his brother Richard (also sitting in the Tower).   The English Council agreed and Richard was crowned King.

These trumped-up allegations would never see the inside of an ecclesiastical court, where they belonged.  In each case—Hastings, Woodville, Grey, Vaughan, and the precontract—Richard would accuse, but never prove.  None of those involved were allowed to defend themselves against Richard’s allegations.

Woodville, Grey, and Vaughan were languishing in prison at Pontrefact Castle when Hastings was beheaded on 13 June.  Their execution would come 12 days later.  Therefore, Hastings was the first head to roll.  If Hastings could be assassinated in cold blood, then anyone could be assassinated.  Given the immediate danger to the life of anyone who spoke up, no one dared to press the point. 

During Richard's coup d'état, the list was long and quite intimidating:

 The sudden, shocking execution of Hastings
 The trumped-up allegations concerning the illegitimacy of Edward's children
 The arrests of others on June 13 and on June 14 (including the Archbishop of York, the Bishop of Ely, Oliver King, secretary to Edward V, and John Forster, an official of the queen)
 The previous arrests of Edward V’s associates Woodville, Grey, and Vaughan and their executions on June 25
 The large number of armed men sent to Westminster Abbey to 'persuade' Elizabeth Woodville to give up the Duke of York to Richard on June 16
 The rumors of massive numbers of troops headed from the north, Richard's power base, to London

These were powerful incentives for those who valued their heads to be docile, for the time being at least.  What must have made Hastings’ execution all the more terrifying was that he was no unpopular royal favorite, but rather a well liked, competent, and respected man who had been associated with the Yorkist cause for decades.  If Hastings could be assassinated in cold blood, then anyone could be assassinated.  Given the immediate danger to the life of anyone who spoke up, no one was safe.  Consequently there was little protest.  Richard had everyone cowered.


   Susan Higginbotham 
(original source)
 

Two associated comments:

Laura says:
June 13, 2011 at 5:28 am

I find it heart-rending that Hastings' death came at the hands of a man that he had eaten and drank with, fought and bled beside. Richard wanted Hastings out of the way because he knew Hastings was the one person who had the power and the strength of character to stand up to his ambition. There is no excuse for cold-blooded murder, yet that is what Richard committed that day by refusing Hastings the opportunity to exonerate himself of those charges. Despite the fact that Richard had other redeeming features, that unjustified act stands out in my mind as a defining moment for him. He preferred the death of a loyal and trusted friend and ally to his own greed and ambition.

Susan Higginbotham says:
June 13, 2011 at 7:43 am

Thanks, Laura! I quite agree. Even if Hastings were actually plotting against Richard, he could have been sent to the Tower and given a trial. His hasty execution suggests to me that Richard not only regarded him as a threat to his ambitions, but that he also knew that Hastings could and would give evidence against the existence of a precontract if left alive to do so.

   


The Princes in the Tower

   

Upon hearing the news of her brother Anthony's arrest, the Dowager Queen knew Richard had betrayed her.  Sensing she was in great danger, Elizabeth fled to sanctuary in Westminster Abbey together with her son by her first marriage, her five daughters, and her other son Richard, Duke of York. 

On 16 June s large number of armed men were sent to 'persuade' Elizabeth Woodville to give up the Duke of York to Richard.

Elizabeth Woodville was told to hand over the younger prince Richard to the Archbishop of Canterbury so that the boy might attend his brother Edward's coronation.  She should have never trusted these men.  Richard was immediately placed with his older brother Edward in the Tower of London.  After that, things went from very bad to much worse. 

   

One day before the scheduled coronation of young Edward, Bishop Stillington of Bath and Wells announced that the children of King Edward and his Queen, Elizabeth Woodville, were illegitimate.  Stillington charged that before Edward IV married Elizabeth, Edward had entered into a precontract for marriage with another woman, Eleanor Butler. 

This action rendered the King’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville invalid.  Thus, Prince Edward would have been a bastard and ineligible to ascend to the throne (and his brother as well).

On 22 June 1483, a sermon was preached outside Old St. Paul's Cathedral declaring Edward's children bastards and Richard the rightful king.  Shortly after, the citizens of London, both nobles and commons, convened and drew up a petition asking Richard to assume the throne. 

This is what Richard had hoped for.  He was now legally able to assume the crown.   On 25 June, an assembly of Lords and Commons declared Richard to be the legitimate king. 

Meanwhile, the two princes remained in the royal apartments in the Tower of London. Sometime in late summer or early fall of 1483, the boys disappeared from view; there is no record of their having been seen again. At the time the Princes vanished, Richard and his new Queen were on “progress” in the north of England, hundreds of miles from London.

   

A Footnote to History

Richard was crowned as the new King of England on July 6.  The reign of King Richard the Third had begun.

Long live the King!!  Or maybe not.  Two years later he would be dead.

Had Richard not betrayed his nephews, there is every possibility the York dynasty would have survived.  However, Richard’s own future would have been quite difficult.  Richard was despised by Elizabeth Woodville and all of her relatives at court.  He would surely become the focus of Woodville discontent.  Edward V, the boy king, would have followed his mother’s wishes when he came of age.  The boy had, after all, been raised and tutored by his Woodville relations and hardly knew Richard.  No doubt Richard would have become a footnote to history just like his brother George, the Duke of Clarence.  Richard was too ambitious to let that happen.  The boys had to go.

   

Indeed, the two boys were never seen in public again.  The fate of Edward and his brother Richard remains unknown to this day.  The most widely accepted theory is they were murdered on the orders of their uncle, King Richard.  Thomas More wrote the princes were smothered to death with their pillows.  His account forms the basis of William Shakespeare's Richard III, in which Richard orders Tyrrell to murder the princes.

Since there is no proof of what really happened, many different theories have surfaced over the years.  However, these competing theories are nowhere near as plausible as the straightforward one pointing to Richard.  Richard controlled access to the boys, Richard was responsible for their welfare, and Richard is the one who stood to gain the most by their murder.  Furthermore, if someone else was responsible for their deaths, why didn't Richard cry foul at the top of his lungs and conduct a public investigation? 

Guilty?  Most people think so, especially after seeing Shakespeare's Richard III.

Bones belonging to two children were discovered in 1674 by workmen rebuilding a stairway in the Tower. On the orders of King Charles II, these were subsequently placed in Westminster Abbey, in an urn bearing the names of Edward and Richard.  The bones were reexamined in 1933 at which time it was discovered the skeletons were incomplete and had been interred with animal bones. It has never been proven that the bones belonged to the princes, and it is possible that they were buried before the reconstruction of that part of the Tower of London.  Permission for a subsequent examination has been refused.

In 1789, workmen carrying out repairs in St George's Chapel, Windsor, rediscovered and accidentally broke into the vault of Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville. Adjoining this was another vault, which was found to contain the coffins of two children. This tomb was inscribed with the names of two of Edward IV's children: George, 1st Duke of Bedford, who had died at the age of 2; and Mary of York who had died at the age of 14. Both had died before the King. However, the remains of these two children were later found elsewhere in the chapel, leaving the occupants of the children's coffins within the tomb unknown.   

 


Biographies

Transitions were always perilous times in Medieval England.  Power-hungry people viewed transitions as opportunities to exploit the leadership vacuum to advance their own ambitions. 

Keep in mind that the War of the Roses spanned over thirty years.  Following the 1471 Battle of Tewkesbury, King Edward IV ruled unopposed for twelve years.

During that time, an entire new generation of faces moved into position.  So let us detour from the treachery of Richard and learn more about the background stories that make Act III: Richard III so compelling. 

   

The Madness of King Charles

Charles VI was better known as Mad King Charles. 

The best known story about Charles took place in 1392.  Charles was 24.  In April, Charles suffered from a mysterious illness which caused his hair and nails to fall out.  That summer, Charles was hardly recovered.  He still suffered from occasional bouts of fever and behaved incoherently at times.  One day Charles and his men set out on an expedition.  One of his advisors had barely survived an assassination attempt.  Now Charles went looking for the fugitive assassin.

On a hot day in August, Charles was riding through the forest at the head of a group of knights when a wild-looking man ran up to his horse and spoke some words of doom and betrayal.

The soldiers chased the man away, but Charles' nerves were clearly disturbed.  Charles absolutely freaked out.

 
   

Leaving the man behind, the group continued their journey.  Soon after, a page accidentally dropped a lance.  Charles flipped out.  Without warning, he rushed forward with a drawn sword and killed four of his men. The astonished victims did not even defend themselves, assuming the king had the right to kill them if he wanted to. 

Finally the others overcame their shock and overpowered the king.  Lifted from his horse, Charles lay flat and speechless on the ground, his eyes rolling wildly from side to side.  His attendants found an ox-cart to carry him.  For two days Charles was in a coma.  When Charles heard that he had killed four of his own men, he wept.

From then on his mental health was seriously undermined.  Charles would go through episodes of forgetting people's names, including his own, and the fact that he was king. Occasionally he would run through his castle howling at people; he was pretending to be a wolf.  When his spells were upon him, he would sit in a room, motionless, for hours. If he did move, he did so with extreme caution.  Questioned about this, he claimed that he was made of glass, and one wrong move would shatter him.

Charles suffered from severe schizophrenia.  Mental illness ran rampant in the family. Desperately ill, he was delusional. At times he believed his enemies were upon him and would be thrashing and fighting off the invisible foes. But King Charles was not the only one in the family who was mad.  His mother, Joan of Bourbon was unbalanced.  She became totally deranged after giving birth to her seventh child. Her father, uncles, and grandfather also suffered mental maladies.

 

The problem with having a Mad King is the fact that the Kingdom of France depended on him.  Charles became king of France in 1380 when he was 12.  He ruled for 42 years till his death in 1422.  All 42 years took place during the worst part of the Hundred Years' War with England.  Yes, the same hundred years when England plundered and humiliated France time and time again.  Was Charles was part of the problem?  Well, what do you think?

When your country is fighting something called the 'Hundred Years' War', it's really unfortunate if the man sitting on the throne is nicknamed 'Mad King Charles'... unless of course it means he's really angry at someone.  No, he was just nuts.

The question the reader might be asking is why I am discussing a French King who died 60 years before Richard the Third became king of England.  There are two things the English people are very squeamish about in regards to their kings... illegitimacy and madness. 

There have definitely been English kings who were crazy.  Mad King George III comes to mind.  His madness led directly to a certain well-known war known as the American Revolution.  This madness stuff in a king can be incredibly costly to a nation.

So now I have question.  This has been a very long and quite complicated story, but can you remember WHO was most responsible for creating the War of the Roses? 

Let's see if you get it right.  Scroll down.

 

 


 

 

 

Keep scrolling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Very Naughty Girl

     

Did you answer Richard, Duke of York?  Close, but he's not the best answer.

Did you answer Margaret of Anjou?  Closer, but she's not the answer either.

Did you answer French King Charles the Sixth?   You're getting warmer.

The madness of Charles VI let England have its way with France for half a century.  Thanks in large part to the cruelty of England's Black Prince, countless men were murdered, women were raped, fields were burned, and townships were pillaged and leveled. 

Did you answer Catherine of Valois?  Considering her picture is hard to miss, that would be a good guess, but we are still not quite there yet. 

The best answer is Henry the Sixth. 

Mad King Henry the Sixth was the direct descendant of Mad King Charles the Sixth.  The humiliating defeat of Agincourt took place during the reign of Charles VI.  With Charles incapacitated at the time of Agincourt, his wife Isabelle allowed King Henry V, the enemy, to marry beautiful daughter Catherine Valois (who just happened to be a little nutty herself). 

This marriage inadvertently linked Catherine to one of the greatest ironies in history.  Catherine would inadvertently carry out the revenge of French King Charles VI on England.  As we know, Catherine passed on the seed of madness to her son, the sad, bewildered King Henry VI.  It seems almost karmic that by marrying his daughter Catherine to Henry V, hero of Agincourt, Charles made sure his family's hereditary madness crossed the English Channel.  

 

Here is a sad reality... England was absurdly dominant over France during the reign of Charles VI.

With the Hundred Years War lasting from 1337 to 1453, out of those 116 years, France did not gain the upper hand until the final days of the conflict.  What can explain the change in momentum?  Henry VI.  

The historians will say Charles VI died in 1422 and Charles VII, better known as 'Charles the Victorious', took over.  The historians will also point out that Henry V, a fierce warrior, died the exact same year.

And who took his place?  Henry VI. 

England's king had gone from a stud to a simpleton. 

The course of the war changed instantly.  But Henry VI wasn't done yet.  When the Hundred Years War ended in 1453, a new war took its place.  1453 was the start date of a new conflict.  Henry's madness created the War of the Roses.  Surely in the French equivalent of Valhalla, Charles VI was laughing.

   

Illegitimacy and the Throne

   

A major scourge of the 21st Century are computer viruses.  Charles VI had planted a time bomb virus of another sort in the English bloodline.  The mental illness of Catherine's son King Henry VI was more responsible for the War of the Roses than any other factor because it encouraged the subsequent free for all power grab.  When a King goes mad, the country goes to hell.  And when the country goes to hell, it is usually because there is a power vacuum at the top.  The madness of Charles had led to the devastation of France during the Hundred Years War.  Now that same madness gave England its equally destructive War of the Roses by encouraging the power hungry nobles and relatives to seize power for themselves.

Let us review the damage caused by Henry VI. 

 His incompetence led to England's humiliating collapse at the end of the Hundred Years War.
 His weakness led to the enormous social and political problems in England which led to the War of the Roses.
 His inability to reproduce led his wife to have the affair with Edmund Beaufort which led to Edward of Westminster.

If not for Edward's miracle victory at the Battle of Barnet, England would have had its next illegitimate king.

'Next' illegitimate king?  Uh oh.

Let's be clear on something... there is current DNA evidence that proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that illegitimacy occurred somewhere in the English line of kings, perhaps even several times.  For example, we might recall the story where King Edward the Fourth's own mother, Duchess Cecily Neville, claimed her son Edward was the illegitimate spawn of her fling with an obscure archer.  It is said that Edward was very good with a bow and better looking than his mother's husband.  Surely that is all the proof we need.

England may have dodged the illegitimacy problem with Henry VI, but his mother Catherine went out and made things much worse.  Yes, indeed, as it turned out, Catherine of Valois was not through wreaking her reproductive damage upon England.  Catherine was the gift that kept on giving.  England mistreated her, so she mistreated England right back.  Not only did she give England her father's madness, there is a strong possibility that Catherine gave England its next illegitimate king. 

Personally, I have never understood why people make such a big case out of illegitimate birth.  I hate the way people look down on a bastard child.  Why punish the child for the sins of the parents?  To me, the child should be judged on the quality of his or her actions, not the parentage.  For example, England's William the Conqueror was born a bastard and look what he accomplished. 

However, I also understand that various religions contend that children born out of wedlock must carry a stigma.  This consideration may not be important to me, but it is to some people.  I guess illegitimacy is one of those issues where one has to make up their own mind.

One of the interesting things about illegitimate kings is the possibility that the bastard child may be a much-needed 'upgrade'.   For example, Russia's Catherine the Great was married to an idiot named Peter the Third.  Her son Paul was the likely product of Catherine's affair with Sergei Saltykov, a talented Russian officer.  Paul very easily could have been one of Russia's great rulers.  Unfortunately he was assassinated five years into his reign.  And why was that?  Paul did something unforgivable.  Paul had the nerve to help the miserable serfs.  In fact, he was Russia's version of Robin Hood - steal from the rich and give to the poor.  That got him killed.

Ah, but I digress.  Back to England.  Margaret of Anjou had spent seven years waiting for Henry VI to impregnate her.  Without an heir, Richard of York threatened to claim the throne.  So what is a girl to do? 

This offers the perfect opportunity to tell a dirty joke.

So Mrs. Smith, pregnant with her first child after such a long wait, visits her neighbor's barn to buy some eggs. 

Mrs. Smith, "Oh, Farmer John, look at all the hens you have!  Last time I was here, you had only half as many.  Where did you get so many hens?"

Farmer John, "It wasn't that hard.  The previous rooster wasn't getting the job done, so I switched cocks."

Mrs. Smith, "Interesting how that works."


More than likely, Margaret of Anjou's enduring love affair with her favorite advisor produced Edward of Westminster, the boy who died at Tewkesbury.  So was this child an upgrade?  Tough question.  As the product of two ruthless, ambitious parents, it is debatable how their reportedly cruel son would have turned out as king.  As it was, England narrowly missed placing another illegitimate ruler on throne.  Oh, by the way, Joffrey on Game of Thrones, Edward's Doppelgänger, was also illegitimate. 

When looking for the break in the royal lineage, one place the scholars always point to is Catherine of Valois.  Catherine's son Edmund Tudor was born in 1431, nine years after the death of her husband Henry V.  Catherine was a widow at the time.

There are two kinds of illegitimate children.  There are children born out of wedlock and there are children born of adulterous affairs.  To me, the allegation that Edward IV was the product of his mother's liaison with a lowly archer as opposed to his brilliant father is far more serious than Catherine giving birth to a child while she was single and forbidden to marry.

'Forbidden to marry'??  Surely there is a story here and indeed there is. 

   

As historic figures go, I would imagine very few people today have the slightest clue who Catherine of Valois is.  Although she was immortalized by Shakespeare as Henry V's 'Fair Catherine', she has nevertheless remained an enigma with little written about her.  Long ago Catherine was dismissed by historians as nothing more than a perpetual footnote in the history of this period.  Through the centuries the story of Catherine of Valois has largely been forgotten.  I find this surprising because my research shows that Catherine unwittingly had a dramatic and lasting impact on English history. 

Perhaps the key word here is 'unwitting'.  By reading between the lines of the narratives, I gather that Catherine was pushed around her entire life.  Given the fact that she gave birth to a simpleton (Henry VI) and showed no ambition for politics suggests that Catherine herself may not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer.  That said, her story dominated the 15th century tabloids.  Catherine's life was touched by a cruel childhood, mental illness, political mistreatment, a clandestine marriage, and secret illegitimate children

Catherine was the youngest of eight children born to King Charles VI of France and Isabelle of Bavaria. We already know that Catherine's father was a basket case, but now we discover her mother was just as bad in a different way.  Her mother, Isabelle, was haughty, callous, and shamelessly adulterous to Catherine's poor ailing father.  Isabelle took advantage of the king’s frailties and seized control of the kingdom from usurpers.  Isabelle was so busy with politics, poor Catherine and her siblings were neglected.  As opposed to the pampered life of a princess one would expect, Catherine and her siblings would live like paupers in miserable surroundings. 

   

As King Charles continued his descent to madness, Isabelle decided to hide the King from the public.  When Catherine was 3, her mother moved Charles from the palace and placed him in a royal Paris residence known as Hotel de Saint Pol along with his children.  Catherine was nowhere near the corridors of power as a child... and that's the way her mother wanted it.  Out of sight, out of mind.  

Isabelle's mission completed, the wildly unpopular Queen devoted her time to the pursuit of pleasure, pilfering the treasury, and showering her favorites with riches. In contrast, contemporary chroniclers noted the 'piteous state' of the young Princess Catherine and her siblings, 'nearly starved and loathsome with dirt, having no change of clothes, nor even of linen'. The Queen was so negligent that she made no provision for her husband and children. Content that they remain locked away far from sight, she neglected to ensure that the servants at Saint Pol were being paid for their labor.  Consequently, as time went on, many were forced to find work elsewhere, leaving the royal children and their ailing father wholly dependent on the few faithful servants who remained.

There is much more intrigue I could add about Catherine's childhood, but let's just say that Isabelle invested little energy in her child's welfare.  Isabelle was an ambitious woman with a cruel and ruthless determination to advance her own affairs.  It was Isabelle who decided to use her young daughter Catherine as a bargaining chip with Henry V, the powerful king of England.

As we know, the marriage ended in the tragic death of Henry V to dysentery.  Catherine had the briefest of reigns as the queen consort of England from 1420 until 1422.  She gave birth to crown heir Henry VI in December 1421.  With her husband over in France conducting yet another war, it is said that Henry V died without once seeing his son.  Catherine's grief was reported to be most violent.

Time passed.  Seemingly content to remain somewhat aloof, Catherine made no strong alliances one way or the other while in mourning.  Some say the Queen Dowager was in an incredibly powerful position.  Catherine was young, attractive and wealthy as well as the mother of the King of France and England.  Unfortunately, she didn't act very powerful.  Thanks in large part to her sad, pathetic childhood, Catherine had little ambition of her own and virtually no instincts for playing politics.  In a sense, she was a shy weakling just as her royal son would turn out to be.  Her English was poor and she had few friends in high places on the English council.  But she was still Fair Catherine... men came to visit.

The Council did not know what to do with Catherine.  Another marriage involving Catherine could spell disaster for internal English politics as well as complicate their current standing with France.  Worried that Catherine would raise her child to have French sympathies, in 1425 Catherine's regent Humphrey decided that young King Henry VI, 4, should be removed from his mother’s care and placed into a separate household.  Catherine's new role became more like that of a favored aunt.  She could see the child from time to time, but was removed on a daily basis.  Reports say that Catherine appeared to accept this and be content with her role.  If so, her passivity gives us a major clue.  What normal mother would accept this arrangement?  We certainly could never imagine Margaret of Anjou letting a similar thing happen to her beloved Joffrey, er, Edward.

With her husband dead, once her child was taken away, it seems like Catherine's remaining purpose in life had been badly damaged. 
Catherine of Valois was now a 25-year old widow with no children, living in the wrong country, and nothing to do.  Rich and beautiful, it is no surprise that Catherine fell in with the younger set at court.  At this time, Catherine was said to have difficulty “curbing her carnal passions.  Don't we all?  Some handle it better than others, but Catherine apparently let her Scorpio nature get the better of her.

It was only a matter of time before a girl looking for a good time ran into a very bad boy. 

 

A Very Bad Boy

   
If nothing else, the War of the Roses is the story of ambition gone mad.  In particular, Catherine became infatuated with the highly ambitious Edmund Beaufort, an emerging political figure. 

Edmund Beaufort... where have we heard that name before?  This is the same Edmund Beaufort who was the major political rival of Richard, Duke of York, back in Act One of our narrative. 

Edmund Beaufort was not just the main advisor to Margaret of Anjou, he was also her boyfriend.  Edmund Beaufort was likely responsible for impregnating Margaret with her son Edward.

Sad to say, Edmund Beaufort's ambition would cost him dearly.  His decision to back Margaret of Anjou throughout the War of Roses would doom two generations of his Lancaster-based family to death.

Thanks in large part to Edmund Beaufort, the entire male side of his Beaufort family was obliterated.  Can you even imagine?  Six men died fighting!!

However, perhaps Edmund Beaufort got the last laugh.  Back in his younger days, it is very likely Edmund was the true father of Edmund Tudor, the man who would in turn sire Henry VII, the future king of England. 

So was it love or lust between Fair Catherine and Edmund Beaufort?  Or was it her untold wealth?  For that matter, the next boy to emerge from her womb would have a claim to be the future King of France. 

In very simple terms, Catherine was a good catch.  Maybe too good a catch... her Regents were very alarmed at this romance, especially when Edmund, 22, asked permission to marry Catherine, 27. 

Enter Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, to the stage.  Humphrey was not only the current Regent of England, but as the uncle of the child Henry VI, he was also the child's Lord Protector. 

When Humphrey heard the rumor in 1428 that Edmund Beaufort sought to marry Henry's mother, Humphrey put his foot down and said no. 

With Cardinal Henry Beaufort as his main political rival, the last thing Humphrey wanted to do was to muddy the waters by giving more power to yet another Über-ambitious Beaufort.  

   
Humphrey feared that if this highly desirable young widow decided to marry, her Beaufort husband might gain undue influence over his young stepson (Henry VI) and upset the balance of power. Catherine's French nationality was never far from the minds of the Council.  If she should decide to ally herself with a member of the French nobility, the situation would be even more fraught with difficulties.

Such was the fear of remarriage that Parliament was persuaded to pass a 1428 law prohibiting any person from marrying the dowager queen without the consent of the King and Council.  They played a dirty trick on Catherine... there was no king at the time to give permission!!  The country was being ruled by Humphrey who was 'not a king'.  If Catherine wanted to marry Edmund, she would have to wait nine years until her son Henry, 6, came of age in 1437.  So much for Catherine's hopes to remarry. 

No doubt Edmund gave up all hope of marrying Catherine.  A deeply ambitious man, Edmund wasn't about to jeopardize his career by risking marriage to a Forbidden Woman.  On the other hand, there was no law that prevented Edmund from continuing to see Catherine under the radar and under the blankets.  England is a very chilly place and what better place to seek warmth than the arms of a beautiful woman?

No doubt the Council thought itself clever to disempower the Dowager Queen, but there is a real chance their decision backfired in a very remarkable way.  One can easily imagine the intense bitterness Catherine felt at having her love life so blatantly interfered with.  No one likes being unfairly pushed around.  Therefore it comes as no surprise that Catherine may have rebelled in a very unusual way. 

In 2013 historian John Ashdown-Hill published a book called Royal Marriage Secrets.  In his book Ashdown-Hill said he had uncovered evidence that Edmund Tudor, father of Henry VII, was not the son of Owen Tudor but rather that of Edmund Beaufort.

Needless to say, this ignited considerable controversy.  Many erudite people wrote long rebuttals to deny Ashdown-Hill's claims.  Other people said this proved what they had believed for a long time.  Still others read the book and decided they had a better claim to be King or Queen of England than the current royal family.  Lord knows, we might just have another War of the Roses right here in the 21st Century.  

   

In the meantime, I have one word of wisdom.  Since the English take these matters very seriously, if you ever visit England, don't make any jokes about the legitimacy of various kings.  After all, due to King Edward III siring dozens upon dozens of children, 99% of all English citizens have at least a few drops of royal blood in them. 

For that matter, maybe I am related to that Archer who got Cicely Neville pregnant with future king Edward the Fourth.  I think I will start a rebellion when I visit England.  What a shame it is that Shakespeare isn't still around to write 'Richard the Fourth'.

   
   

Owen Tudor is the man who fathered Edmund Tudor.  Edmund Tudor in turn would go on to father Henry Tudor, better known as Henry VII, the first Tudor king of England.  In other words, Owen Tudor sired a dynasty. 

It is said that Queen Catherine of Valois found Owen to be so irresistible that she gave her heart, soul... and yes, body... to this handsome young man.  

No big deal until we realize that Owen was not an estate owner with a pedigree and vast lands under his control.  No, not hardly.  Owen Tudor was not exactly high-born.  In fact, he was the lowly son of a Welsh rebel who became a servant in Catherine's wardrobe department

This is one of the most curious stories of parentage imaginable.  By favoring this particular servant with her charms, some of England's most famous kings.... Henry the Seventh, Henry the Eighth and Elizabeth the First could point to a lowly chamber boy as their forefather.  Impressive, yes? 

Or maybe not.  Considering my own roots include a Welsh undertaker gracing the family tree, finally I have a story I can relate to!  Oh, the shame of it all.

Since Owen Tudor is the newest member of our narrative, let us introduce him properly.  Born in 1400, Owen was a nobody who worked in the household of the Dowager Queen and somehow ended up in the Queen's bed.  It is said that their lovemaking produced a boy named Edmund Tudor, the eventual father of Henry VII, the king who would begin the Tudor dynasty of England. 

This is a very curious story.  We hear rumors of powerful men who inveigle or coerce susceptible chambermaids into their bed and then discard them quickly.  What we don't hear very often are stories of a beautiful Queen, a woman coveted by extraordinary men in high places, who chooses instead to seduce the keeper of her wardrobe and linen.  But no, the story doesn't stop there.  The chamber boy impregnates.  Oh, darn, well, these things happen.  Just ask Cecily Neville, victim of that handsome Archer boy. 

Big deal.  So, all Catherine has to do is find some noble and ask him to be noble and cover it up.  Or have the child on the sly and hand it to some peasant to raise.  But no, the Queen keeps the child!!  And why?  Because she has fallen in love with Chamber Boy!  She leaves the palace with chamber boy and they live happily ever after, having four children along the way. 

What a remarkable story!

In 1421 Owen is said to have gone to war in France.  However, he was not a warrior.  Instead Owen assisted Sir Walter Hungerford, a steward in the service of Henry V (Agincourt).  Following Henry's death, Owen somehow ended up as a keeper of the Queen's household or wardrobe back in England.

Virtually nothing is known about how the liaison between Catherine and Owen took place.  Consequently there are all sorts of 'Legends' about their meeting, which is another way of saying that someone decided to make up stories. 

For example, one writer said that Owen came to the queen's attention when she spied him bathing naked.  Another chronicler dwelt upon Owen's good looks which the Queen Mother noticed, causing her to give the handsome squire a post in her household.  And then there was the legend that Owen either deliberately or accidentally fell onto the queen's lap during a drunken dance.

My favorite was the lap story.  While on guard at Windsor Castle during some festivities, Owen was required to dance before the court.  Queen Catherine sat on a low seat surrounded by her ladies. While making an elaborate pirouette, the unfortunate man lost his balance and fell headfirst into the Queen's lap.  The Queen's manner of excusing this was so awkward that her ladies in waiting grew suspicious that the Queen had a thing for this handsome Welshman.

Whatever the true story, there can be no doubt that Catherine and Owen were taking a huge risk.  Catherine lived in the king's household, presumably so she could care for her young son when called upon, but mostly so the councilors could watch over the Queen herself.  Knowing full well there were spies everywhere, Owen and Catherine's mad love affair was sheer madness. 

Seriously, this story is so far-fetched it absolutely stretches the imagination.  We are supposed to believe the man who won Catherine body and soul, the man for whom she risked everything, was her handsome Clerk of the Wardrobe! A trumpet for the strumpet, please!  If this were fiction, I'd toss the book in the trash as rubbish.  But that is apparently more or less what happened. 

Despite all the risks, the Queen and the servant began their affair right under the noses of people who were paid to watch her.  The queen was under suspicion.  She was a foreigner with few friends.  Many suspected Catherine of secretly supporting her brother Louis VII's claim to the French crown over her that of own son little Henry VI.

Personally, I think there has to be a more likely explanation for this unlikely pairing.  One explanation would be rebellion.  The assholes, oops, I meant the dignitaries who ruled England in the name of Catherine's son expected the queen to be content to sleep with her fond memories of the great Henry the Fifth.  One can assume Catherine felt considerable resentment.  

One might even conclude her affair with Owen was her way of thumbing her nose at these men.  Perhaps this good-looking servant was the only option available to a desperately lonely woman trapped in a cold, unfriendly castle.

Thus began the mad love affair between the widow of the revered King Henry and her studly Clerk of the Wardrobe.  I say 'mad' because the two risked a charge of treason.  Based on that crazy statute, one or both of them could easily end up in jail... or worse.  We've heard of men who lose their head over a woman, but in this case, it could really happen!    

Then one day Catherine realized she was pregnant.  Uh oh. 

All the history books point to Owen Tudor as the father.  Maybe the thing to do here is to read between the Lies.  First Owen risks his neck to impregnate the Forbidden Queen and then Catherine turns around and names her son 'Edmund'. 

Huh?  Are we missing something here???

   


Credibility

   

   

The 11 December 2016 episode of the TV show The Royals revolved around the legendary story of Owen and Catherine.  As one can see, their tale was an "epic, earth-shattering love affair!"

Forgive me, Father, for I am about to be catty.

As I read further, I realized the writer of the 'earth-shattering love affair' blog had basically accepted the Owen-Catherine Fairy Tale hook, line, and sinker.  I doubt very seriously the writer dug very deeply into the story.  This is not necessarily a good thing.  After all, it is my understanding that the motto of most TV shows is 'Why let the truth get in the way of a good story?'

It is scary to realize most of our history lessons these days come from movies and television.  Currently our world is awash in a phenomenon known as 'Fake News'.  There has probably never been a time when ignorance and superficial thinking has been more prevalent.  We base our decisions on the words of people we don't know personally.  This may not be a very good idea.  Rumor has it our leaders deliberately tell fibs from time to time. 

I suppose I am just as guilty as the rest of superficial thought.  I have based this entire story about the War of the Roses on the ten listings that appear on the First page of Google.  I pick a few a random and take a peek.  If it sounds intelligent, I borrow a few ideas.  But that doesn't mean they are correct.  Most of the time, I don't even know the name of the author. 

Research these days is little more than cut and paste.  It is shocking in a way how many websites simply repeat what another website says VERBATIM.  For example, Wikipedia, the source for many of my explanations, makes it effortless to cut and paste passages into my stories.  I love Wikipedia, but I don't always trust it. 

Every now and then, I stop and think about it... I am repeating the words of Wikipedia contributors who I know nothing about.  Here's another old saying... you get what you pay for.  Wikipedia is free.  The entire site was created by volunteers.  Who vets the Wikipedia writers? 

I am about to challenge the 'Owen-Catherine Fairy Tale'.  I believe this particular legend may not be what it seems.  In a sense, I will attempt to rewrite history.  If you find yourself agreeing with my line of thinking, before you make up your mind, please remember to ask yourself this question: 

Do you really want to form your opinion based on the words of a retired dance teacher who gets his information from the Internet?

It all boils down to Credibility.  Question everything, my friend. 

   


Scandal in the Castle: Who's Your Daddy???

   
   

I contend that the weird circumstances surrounding Catherine's pregnancy suggests an alternative explanation for Catherine's risky behavior... Edmund Beaufort

No one is quite sure when Catherine's affair with Owen Tudor began. 

 One website suggested 'somewhere between 1427 and 1429'.
 Another
website reported 'About 1428 or 1429'. 
 
Another website reported, 'Despite all of this, Catherine did remarry in secret, sometime in 1431 or 1432'. 
 A third website said, 'It is accepted that Catherine and Owen were married sometime around 1429/30'. 

I am not making this up.  In fact, I'm not making any of this up.  I just drift from website to website compiling the information, then I try to sort it out.  Do you know what the words 'Somewhere', 'About', 'Sometime', and 'Around' mean to me? 

These words mean someone is guessing.  It means no one knows the truth about these dates because both the affair between Catherine and Edmund and the affair between Catherine and Owen were conducted in secret.  I would place a bet that there are no existing written accounts of what took place in the castle.

The passage above is another good example of the general fuzziness surrounding Owen and Catherine's supposed Love Story.  I am starting to believe we have a genuine mystery on our hands. 

 'many tales, unsupported... In other words, no one knows the true story of how Owen and Catherine hooked up.

 'We don't know for sure what position Owen held.This suggests that no one ever wrote any history of this liaison.

 'Despite all the romantic embellishments by later writers.Someone makes stuff up like the 'Lap Story' and the next person buys it.

 'It seems that Owen and Catherine were attracted to one another.'   Gee, can we possibly be less certain about this?


I believe the words above are the words of an ethical writer.  This person has taken a good look at the existing data and realized this very well could be a fable of some sort.  Embarrassed at being forced to regurgitate literary diatribe based on quicksand, the writer has hedged his or her bet by qualifying every single phrase for the simple reason that no one has a clue what really happened. 

So I suggest we read between the lines... maybe there is a cover-up going on here.  Maybe this entire love story is nothing more than putting lipstick on a pig. 

We started this chapter by asking a question:  How did a lowly Welshman bed a Queen? 

Six centuries have passed since the Owen-Catherine Love Story took place.  Someone compared it to a 'Remarkable Fairy Tale'.  Every single writer focuses on how incredible it was that a highly desirable Queen could allow herself to be seduced by a lowly servant, a young man who actually risked death to take this woman to bed. 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, indeed, it all sounds very romantic, but at heart the idea is preposterous when you stop and think about.  It is hard to believe the 'epic, earth-shattering love affair' between Owen and Catherine actually took place because it challenges our reality-testing equipment to the extreme.  This story is absolutely begging for a better explanation!! 

I don't deny something unusual took place between Owen and Catherine.  After all, while she was still pregnant, Catherine left the comfort of the castle with Owen and had four or five children by him over the next few years while living out in the country.  The Queen definitely built the final part of her life around this man.  That part is not in question.

   

What I am suggesting is that the Edmund Beaufort Rumor invites us to reinterpret the initial stages of the Love Story in a different light.  Since clearly no one really knows what took place here, I have decided to offer my own theory. 

What would Catherine do if Edmund Beaufort really was the father?

The truth is that a lowly Welshman does NOT bed a Queen... but a Queen might bed a lowly Welshman if she had a good reason.

Given the general fuzziness regarding the time line, Catherine's two affairs could very easily have overlapped in some way. 

Keep in mind that Edmund Beaufort was the leader of the formidable House of Beaufort.  He had his entire career ahead of him.  He had possession of the vast lands known as 'Somerset' in southwest England.  Beaufort stood to lose everything.

Let us return to that law forbidding Catherine to marry.  Some highly vindictive men had made it a grave offense to marry the Queen Dowager without their consent.  That law was passed in direct retaliation for Edmund Beaufort's interest in Queen Catherine.  Quite likely, after the law was passed, extra scrutiny was placed around the Queen just to be on the safe side. 

Catherine began to look over her shoulder in case spies lurked behind the curtains and under her bed.  Catherine had to do something to hide her pregnancy before the spies figured it out. 

If Edmund was responsible for Catherine's pregnancy, is it possible that Catherine would turn to Owen in order to protect Edmund? 

   

Gerald Harriss (1925-2014) was one of the most distinguished English medievalists of his generation.  Harriss was an eloquent interpreter of the workings of English late-medieval political society, illuminating not only its institutional aspects but also the characters of its leading actors, notably Cardinal Beaufort (Edmund Beaufort's uncle).

As it turns out, I am not the only one with a suspicious mind.  In his book Cardinal Beaufort. A Study in Lancastrian Ascendency and Decline, Harriss made a strong case (pp.144,177-8) for Edmund having fathered one of Catherine's later children.

Harriss had this to say about Edmund, Owen, and Catherine: 

Catherine may have secretly married Owen Tudor to avoid the penalties of breaking the statute of 1427–28.  By its very nature the evidence for Edmund 'Tudor's' parentage is less than conclusive, but such facts as can be assembled permit the agreeable possibility that Edmund 'Tudor' and Margaret Beaufort were first cousins and that the royal house of 'Tudor' sprang in fact from Beauforts on both sides. (Harriss, 178 n.34)

   

Take note that the findings of Gerald Harriss concur with that of John Ashdown-Hill.  This means the only two recent historians to analyze this story have come to the same likely conclusion.  To date, no one else with similar qualifications has stepped forward to challenge them. 

One can imagine after that nasty law was passed, Catherine had the right to retain her boyfriend Edmund.  She just couldn't marry him.  Quite likely this roughshod treatment aroused a sense of defiance in the two young lovers.  Perhaps they rebelled and continued to conduct their relationship in a private manner.  If so, who can guess how long they continued to see one another?  One year? Two years? 

Various website's suggest Catherine's romance with Edmund Beaufort had started in 1928.  She became pregnant with her son Edmund Tudor in October 1930.   So what was the punishment for getting her knocked up??  No doubt the ensuing scandal would bring holy hell down upon the head of the sperm donor.  And there very well could be danger too. 

Do you know what kings don't like?  They don't like babies being born with potential claims to the throne.  Just watch the rate babies get executed on Game of Thrones in an attempt to eliminate heirs.  Babies being born the former Queen of England were exactly the kind of babies that made people nervous.  So if you don't believe the father of Edmund Tudor wasn't in danger, guess again. 

Now let's pretend to enter the mind of some vindictive asshole on the English Council.  

Oh my God, a baby is about to be born to the former Queen of England!  If it is a boy, thanks to Catherine's lineage, the child will have a legitimate claim to the crown of France.  The Frenchies will absolutely flip out!  Furthermore, this kid could cause a lot of trouble when he gets older.  Edmund Beaufort is a leading member of the House of Lancaster and the House of Beaufort, two prominent families with money and powerful political friends.  Whoever is king at the time will have his hands full.  Something needs to done. 

On the other hand, what if the child belonged to Owen Tudor?

Oh my God, a baby is about to be born to the former Queen of England!  If it is a boy, the child will have a legitimate claim to the crown of France. The Frenchies will absolutely flip out!  What was this idiot woman thinking?  However, we caught a break.  This Owen Tudor fellow is a lowly Welshman.  By law, the Welsh do not have the right to ascend to the throne.  No child born to this man has any birthright, so we dodged a real bullet here.  Whew!  That was a close call. 

   
   

Rick Archer's Note: 

Before we continue, let me review the mythology, er, rather the written history.

It has been reported that Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, sought to marry the Dowager Queen and it may very well have been that Katherine returned these feelings.  In response, Parliament set out a statue which stated that no man was allowed to marry a former queen of England without a special licence and permission from the King.

If a man dared to marry a former queen then not only would he forfeit his lands and tenements, he would also forfeit his life.

Edmund Beaufort, the Duke of Somerset, paid heed to this statue and reined back his intentions.

However, Owen Tudor was a completely different story.  Reported to be a squire in the service of the dowager queen, Owen Tudor soon caught the queen's attention. There are various stories as to how this happened, one being that while dancing Owen fell into the queen's lap, another being that she spied him while he was swimming naked.  Whatever the true story is, the pair married in secret, going against the statute of parliament.  Soon Owen Tudor impregnated Queen Catherine with a boy to be named Edmund Tudor.

   

But what happens if Edmund Beaufort was the true father?  That would give Catherine a legitimate reason to deliberately wrap her baby boy up in sheep's clothing.  By disguising the true identity of the father, she could avoid having Beaufort incur the wrath of the English Council.

So is John Ashdown-Hill correct about Edmund Beaufort fathering Catherine's child?  Or was he just making a fortune by spreading some ancient gossip around?   Your guess is as good as mine, but I will say Dr. Ashdown-Hill does appear to have more a bit more knowledge on the subject than your average person (and maybe even more than me!)  Consequently, for the sake of argument, let's go out on a limb and assume Dr. Ashdown-Hill is correct.

I don't know about you, but I just can't seem to get past the odd coincidence of the matching names.  Considering I am taking someone else's word for every single thing that I write in this article, I am hardly in any position to suggest I know what the truth is here.  Nevertheless, I will be bold and risk muddying the waters a bit further.

I have a question... Why on earth would Catherine name her son 'Edmund' if her lover Edmund Beaufort was not the father?  Why would she give nosey people the slightest reason to draw undue attention to whom the father might be, especially at a time when the father could be imprisoned or executed for breaking the ridiculous law?

Before I start answering this curious question myself, the history books say that Catherine and Owen left the castle while Catherine was still pregnant.  Catherine had her son at some estate out in the country far beyond prying eyes.  It was there that she named her baby boy 'Edmund'. 

1. Out in country, Catherine might have felt safer about taking a chance with the name.

2. Presumably her champion Owen was at her side when she named the child.

So I ask again:  Why on earth would Catherine name her son 'Edmund' if her lover Owen Tudor was the father?


BA in History and French from University of East Anglia

MA in Linguistics from University of Essex

PhD in medieval history from University of Essex

   

My theory is that Catherine used Owen Tudor to protect Edmund Beaufort.

Edmund Beaufort had a considerable amount to lose.  If Catherine was pregnant and it was discovered that Edmund Beaufort was the father, the ensuing scandal would have cost Beaufort his political career at the minimum, conceivably even his life or his estates.  It definitely would have guaranteed him a visit to the Tower of London for violating that statute in some way or another.  So, if Edmund Beaufort was indeed the father, surely he pleaded with Catherine to protect his identity. 

If so, did this mean that Catherine needed to find another suitor ASAP to give her pregnancy a cover story?  Given that Catherine didn't have a wide selection of potential lovers given the tight security surrounding her, perhaps Owen Tudor was her only choice.  Or quite possibly, she did have other men around, but they all had money.  Owen, on the other hand, was poverty-stricken.  Maybe that worked in his favor. 

 

As it turned out, by the time Catherine gave birth to Edmund Tudor on 11 June 1431 (a date some contest), she was heavily involved with her new boyfriend Owen Tudor.  Catherine likely became pregnant in October 1930.  Was there a chance Catherine was still seeing Edmund Beaufort at that time?  Maybe.  So let's pretend we can read the mind of Catherine.  Call it Scenario One.
 

I, Catherine, am 30 years old.  Recently I broke up with my long-time boyfriend Edmund.  Been feeling kinda lonely lately and I met this new guy Owen.  He works here at the palace keeping my wardrobe in order.   Owen is this really good-looking Welsh guy, you know, a medieval hunk if I ever saw one. Lately I have been distracting him from his job.  One day Owen caught me in one of those moods.  There was a spark and I lost it.  Something happened.  Now I want it to happen again and again. 

But I have a big problem.  I'm pregnant!!!  There is no way it could be Owen's child.  It has to be Edmund's child.  I am sure of it.  In fact, I know when it happened.  Back in October, Edmund and I had been drifting apart, but one night he came over for my birthday party.  Too much wine, not that awful English stuff, but good French wine.  You know how it goes, he looked at me, I looked at him and we had one more fling for old times sake. 

Now look at me. I am going to have to tell Owen about this.  If the child is a boy, I wonder if Owen would mind very much if I go ahead and name my baby after Edmund.  Are Welsh guys touchy about this sort of thing?

But you know, if I really and truly want to name my son after my ex-boyfriend, surely Owen won't doubt my love for him...

   

Catherine claimed the baby belonged to Owen Tudor.  Let's do another scenario and assume she is telling the truth.  Call it Scenario Two. 


This thing with Owen is so special.  I am wild about the guy.  Unfortunately he is taking a real chance by sneaking into my room at night.  People watch me all the time and I know they are suspicious.  My ladies in waiting are already onto me, I am sure of it.  This is very dangerous.  Owen is breaking the law by sleeping with me.  If the wrong people discover our relationship, Owen could be put in prison. I am surrounded with people like that.  Sometimes I really hate my life. 

Now I have another problem.  I'm pregnant.  It is Owen's child, no doubt about it, but I want to name my baby 'Edmund'.  As the former Queen, that's my right, isn't it?  I'm sure it's a boy and I so much want to name him in the memory of my old boyfriend.  I wonder if Owen would mind?   Are guys sensitive about these things like this? 

Owen said something about wanting to name the child after him.  You know, I get it.  I really do see his point.  Every dude in France and England names his first son after himself.   So when Owen brings up 'Owen Junior' or 'Owen the Second', I guess I can see where he is coming from.  But you know what?  I get so tired of all these Louies and Edwards and Henrys I could just scream sometimes!  How does a girl tell them all apart?  Stamp a Roman numeral on their forehead, that's what I say. 

The way I look at it, if I really and truly want to name my son after my ex-boyfriend, surely Owen won't doubt my love for him.  I will make a deal with him.  The next boy will get his name  (Note: their third son was named Owen).


For the record, I was named 'Richard' because my uncle Richard was my mother's favorite brother.  Most women name their sons after someone they like, someone special.  In Catherine's case, there was only one Edmund in her life.  Because Catherine was French, there were no 'Edmunds' in Catherine's family.  So I ask again... why would she name her son 'Edmund'?

Since I am a guy, I feel at least somewhat qualified to offer the male perspective here.  If I found out my wife or my hot and heavy lover was going to name her child of suspect parentage after her old boyfriend, I would absolutely raise the castle roof.  This is why I suspect there could be a third scenario... one that no website that I have come across has suggested. 

We started this chapter by asking a question:  How did a lowly Welshman bed a Queen and start a dynasty? 

The official Henry VII propaganda story is that Henry's grandfather was the product of a magic love affair between a servant and a Queen.  Oh, how wonderfully romantic!!   But what if that is complete hogwash?

What if Catherine decided that taking Owen as her lover was her only way to protect Edmund Beaufort? 

   

Think about it.  If Catherine still cared for Edmund Beaufort, she would have to disguise the nature of her pregnancy.  Edmund Beaufort had a lot to lose, but what did a nobody like Owen Tudor have to lose besides his head? 

The only question at this point is how would Catherine approach the situation.  Would she sit down and strike up a bargain with Owen in a business-like way?  Would she have the guts to openly discuss the problem and ask Owen what he thought about giving Edmund Beaufort a cover story? 

You know, I have to say I doubt it.  I find it very difficult to imagine a Queen would humble herself by politely asking a servant to get involved in a very dangerous affair.  I think any legitimate femme fatale would do it the easy way.  There is a great movie called Body Heat.  That movie makes it very clear what a good-looking woman can get a guy to do after she has had sex with him a few times.

All Catherine had to do was undress and knock the poor boy's lights out.   After all, no self-respecting Welshman could possibly resist hitting on a naked Queen who looks like Catherine.  That's where I would place my bet.  So let us try to read the mind of Owen Tudor.  Call it Scenario Three.

Good grief, the Queen must be out of her mind!  I was trying to hang up some of her dresses in the royal closet last night.  The Queen snuck up from behind.  First she put her arms around me, then she turned me around and kissed me.  I was pretty fearful, but she dragged me into her bed.  I tried to resist, but you know how it is.  Once the Cat Lady dropped her cloak and told me she wanted me, I was helpless to the heat.  That is one beautiful woman.  Not only that, the Queen is insatiable.  Every time we finished, she stroked me until I was ready to start anew.  Over and over and over again. 

On the spirits of my dead ancestors, I cannot imagine what I did to deserve this.  That woman wore me out.  I can barely move today!  Catherine said she had something she wanted to talk to me about.  I wonder what it could be...


That led to Scenario Four.  I imagine that once Owen became Catherine's lover, at some point Catherine came to him with a distraught look on her face.

"Owen, oh no, I am in so much trouble.  I have just discovered I am pregnant!  I am so sorry, but that it can't possibly be your child.  I wish it was your child, I love you so much, but it has be Edmund's child.  Owen, I need your help...

So was 'Love' involved or not?  Not at first.  I think this Love Story started out as deception on Catherine's part.  While Owen thought he was part of a magic romance, Catherine was setting up her alibi.  I think once Catherine had Owen wrapped around her finger, maybe she offered some candor about her problem, maybe not.  Drawing upon Owen's likely infatuation, I think Catherine persuaded him to move out of the castle with her, move to the country and claim her child as his.  This would give Edmund Beaufort the protection he needed.  Once Owen agreed to the scheme, maybe he quietly resigned his job and disappeared. A couple weeks later, Catherine told the officials she had decided to live away from court.  They reunited at her palace in Hertfordshire 30 miles north of London.  Probably no one even noticed the two events were connected. 

Catherine had her baby out in the countryside away from prying eyes.  She said the child belonged to Owen Tudor and no one bothered to dig deeper since Catherine stayed out of politics from that point on.  The reports say that Catherine stayed off the radar for several years.   She came to visit her son Henry VI from time to time, but always kept it low-key. 

What about Owen?  Look at it from Owen's point of view.  If he saw things in a practical way, he had much to gain here... a relationship with a beautiful woman, the status of marrying the former Queen, the very real possibility their son could be a royal someday (French royal blood), and the considerable estate that Catherine possessed.  In other words, Owen was in the right place at the right time to luck into something very good.  His station in life was dramatically elevated.  All Owen had to do was swallow his pride a little.

The evidence suggests that Owen and Catherine did develop something special once removed from public scrutiny.  The two of the lived in the country away from the limelight, always doing their best to keep a low profile.  During this time, they had five children.  Edmund, Jasper and Owen, the three sons born to the couple, were all born away from court.  Out of sight, out of mind.

   

If my fanciful 'alternative story' is correct, we have a very plausible answer to the question of how a lowly Welshman bedded a Queen and started a dynasty.  It was Catherine's idea all along! 

Personally, I believe that Edmund Beaufort is the likely father of Edmund Tudor.  I say this simply because no woman in her right mind would insult her new lover without a damn good reason.  Since he failed to object, I contend Owen had to know exactly what was going on!!  

My opinion contradicts the history books.  Catherine publicly stated that Edmund was the son of Owen Tudor, so maybe Owen Tudor was the father just like Catherine said he was.

But I doubt it.  So does historian John Ashdown-Hill, a man with a formidable reputation. 

In addition to his doctorate in history, John Ashdown-Hill is a member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, a Fellow of The Society of Antiquaries, a Fellow of the Royal Historical Society, and a member of the Society of Genealogists, the Richard III Society, and the Centre Europeen d'Etudes Bourguignonnes.  I would guess that this gentleman is eminently qualified to comment on this story.

As for my own credentials, they are non-existent in the field of history.  I fully admit I have no credibility which explains why I have chosen to ride the coattails of this esteemed scholar. 

The bottom line is that neither Dr. Ashdown-Hill nor I believe the Owen Tudor-Fair Catherine Fairy Tale took place as reported.

 

Whatever the truth, ultimately it doesn't make much difference who the father was.  Edmund Beaufort or Owen Tudor, either way Edmund Tudor was illegitimate.  Harsh words, but let's get one thing straight... there has never been any direct evidence for the lawful marriage of Owen and Catherine.  No witness stepped forward nor did any written record of their marriage exist.  Centuries have passed, but no one has yet to find a time or a place of Owen's marriage to Catherine.  They were 'married' simply because Henry VI said so when he legitimized the Catherine/Owen children in 1452.

Ordinarily I wouldn't make such a fuss about something as absurd as Edmund Tudor's parentage except for the fact that we are talking about the start of a royal dynasty here.  Unsurprisingly, Henry the Seventh was said to be extremely touchy about this particular subject.  There is a saying that history is written by the winners.  I suspect that once Henry VII finished rewriting the 15th century history books, the English people were expected to believe that his origins lie in a curious romance that defied all common sense.

Faced with accounts that are sprinkled with the words 'legend' and 'about', we will never know the truth.  Catherine was an isolated, lovelorn widow who died without ambition or accomplishment.  She left us no diaries, no recorded personal thoughts, and no interesting speeches.  Her only deeds of note were to give birth to a crazy king, Henry VI, and an illegitimate son named Edmund. 

And that’s all history would have known of her if not for the fact that Henry VII's propaganda machine worked so hard to make us believe an astonishing tale that a Queen would somehow stoop so low as to share her bed with a servant based on 'love'.  Yeah, nice try, Henry.

   

Final Thoughts on Owen and Catherine's Story

After I finished writing my story about Owen and Catherine, I found myself curious to know if there was a different Edmund in Catherine's life that might explain her choice of the name.   I decided to poke around a few websites and look for another reason to explain the Edmund/Edmund name coincidence.  After a considerable amount of time, I did find something interesting:

The name Edmund is believed to have been chosen for Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, whom recent unproven theories suggest was actually his father.  But a more likely explanation is that Beaufort stood as the child's godfather at his christening.  It was a common practice at the time to name a child after a godparent.  (source)


I was not at all satisfied with this explanation.  The explanation seemed unbearably convenient.  Edmund Beaufort would have been between 22 and 24 at the time of Edmund Tudor's birth.  Isn't that a bit 'young' to be named as a godfather?  Would not the former queen of England be able to find someone a bit older and more respectable to be the child's godfather than her former boyfriend?  And how would Owen feel about her former boyfriend being named as godfather?  (Yes, we are back to that again).

Nevertheless, I decided the explore the 'godfather' explanation a bit further.  So I went to Google and typed in: edmund tudor godfather

Lo and behold, I discovered a scholarly attempt to settle the same question:  Why would Catherine name her son 'Edmund'?

The following is an excerpt.  You can read the entire thread yourself here.

From: "Tony Hoskins" 
Subject: Edmund Tudor a (Beaufort-) Plantagenet?
Date: Sat, 11 Aug 2007 10:54:28 -0700

I raise this matter again.

"Around 1424, rumours about her [Catherine of France, Queen of England] connection with Owen Tudor were heard."

The naming of their first child, Edmund Tudor, has also led to serious speculation on whether Henry VII, Edmund Tudor's son, descended from Beauforts on both sides of his pedigree."

Edmund Tudor's birth date seems vague.

Since arguably Edmund Tudor might just have easily have been born from say about 1427-1432, his father might well have been Edmund Beaufort, known to have been a suitor for Queen Catherine at least in 1427/8.

Jones also says:

"[Queen Catherine] may have taken Tudor as her husband to prevent her true love, Edmund Beaufort, suffering the penalties of the statute of 1428, since Owen had so few possessions to forfeit."

That the widowed Queen Catherine's eldest son should be named Edmund - a name appearing in neither the families of Owen Tudor nor the Valois - taken in conjunction with the chronology, the vague dates, and the known attraction c.1427/8 (at least) between Queen Catherine and Edmund Beaufort is striking.

Does anyone have any thoughts or comments on this?

            Tony Hoskins


Anthony Hoskins
History, Genealogy and Archives Librarian
History and Genealogy Library
Santa Rosa, California 95404

 

Here are excerpts of what Tony Hoskins' colleague Brad Verity wrote in reply:

 And who else in the royal family should stand as godfather to a son borne by the queen as a result of a marriage to a man of lesser social standing that was not known to the public, or even to the royal council?  Conceivably a number of others could be godfather. But why Edmund Beaufort?

 The alternative explanation is that Queen Catherine named her bastard son Edmund because that was his father's name, which seems the best way of any of trumpeting the child's true paternity - a stupid decision if the point was to hide the fact.

 The Queen secretly marries a low-level chump instead in order to prevent the real man she loves from losing his lands? 

 There is supposed to be evidence of the "hot and heavy" relationship with Owen.  I know of none, save the abundant mythology surrounding Catherine and Owen. There *is* on the other hand documentation of the Queen's passion for Edmund Beaufort.

 The fact is that Catherine kept it well hidden.  Perhaps the "secret marriage" to Owen Tudor was kept purposely murky as to specifics because it covered up the fact that her son Edmund was born illegitimately to the Queen and Edmund Beaufort, and that the clandestine nature of her subsequent marriage to Owen - after the fact of Edmund "Tudor's" birth - allowed for cover.

 The case for Edmund Tudor being Edmund Beaufort's son is plausible on many levels.



From: "D. Spencer Hines"
Subject: Re: Edmund Tudor a (Beaufort-) Plantagenet?
Date: Sun, 12 Aug 2007 09:40:01 +1000
 

Desperate, Rampant Speculation.

Amusing...



Rick Archer's Note: 

I have mentioned this thread to show that I am not the only one who finds the matching Edmund names to be disturbing.  The thread makes it clear that the Edmund Tudor-Edmund Beaufort parentage question is considered a very real possibility in scholarly circles.  And yet at the same time, D. Spencer Hines readily dismissed the entire thought.  Hines later added that 'Tony [Hoskins] is living in Fantasy Land'.

Whatever the truth here, something remarkable did appear to take place between Catherine and Owen after they left the castle. 

As a poignant footnote to this story, Owen and Catherine had six happy years together (1430-1436).  Unfortunately, their quiet life came to an end in 1436.  Catherine was pregnant with her fifth child by Owen Tudor when rumors of the Queen's secret marriage reached the ear of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, the ever-present villain in this story. 

Humphrey immediately had Owen imprisoned on a charge of treason.  Deeply distressed and traumatized at the forced separation from her husband and children, Catherine went to Bermondsey Abbey to have her child.  Shortly after giving birth to their daughter Margaret, Catherine fell gravely ill and died quickly.  She was 35.  There are reports that she died in disgrace.  No mention of her marriage to Owen Tudor was made on her gravestone. 

Upon Owen's arrest, the queen believed there was no chance of reuniting.  Without hope, some say Catherine died because she wanted to. 

As it turned out, the Queen was wrong.  Several years later, Owen Tudor was released.  Sad to say, he became an early casualty in the Wars of the Roses.  Owen joined his son Jasper's army in Wales in January 1461, a force which was defeated at the Battle of Mortimer's Cross by Edward of York (Edward IV).  Owen Tudor was captured and beheaded following the battle.

Moments before his execution, Owen murmured, "my head shalle ly on the stocke that was wonte to ly on Quene Katheryns lappe."

I have suggested that Catherine may have exploited Owen in the beginning to provide cover for Edmund Beaufort.  Whether this is true or not is anyone's guess.  What I am touched by is the evidence that these two people went to their death loving each other intensely. 

The expression 'epic, earth-shattering love affair' may not have missed the mark after all.

   

Margaret Beaufort, the Red Queen

Margaret Beaufort was the Red Queen of Lancaster to Elizabeth Woodville's White Queen of York during the War of the Roses.  During Act One and Act Two, the two women were on opposite sides, but would become allies late in the game to help bring down Richard III, the villain of Act Three.

Margaret would marry Edmund Tudor, the much-discussed illegitimate son of Owen and Catherine.  Together they produced Henry Tudor, the man who would one day become King Henry VII, the first ruler in the Tudor Dynasty.  In many ways, Margaret Beaufort's passion to advance her son Henry Tudor to the throne matched that of her predecessor Margaret of Anjou in regards to her son Edward.  Margaret B. would stop at nothing.

Margaret Beaufort was a direct descendant of King Edward III through his son John of Gaunt.  There is a chart below to help follow my narrative.

John of Gaunt had a wife, Blanche, and a mistress, Katherine Swynford

Through Blanche, John was the forefather of three kings: Henry IV (Bolingsbroke), Henry V of Agincourt fame, and Henry VI whose madness caused the War of the Roses.  When Edward, son of Margaret of Anjou, died at Tewkesbury, this line died out.

John of Gaunt produced a second line through Katherine Swynford, his mistress whom he married late in life.  Her three children were illegitimate, but later legitimized by King Richard II in 1390.  

John Beaufort, the First Earl of Somerset, had two sons.  His oldest son, John Beaufort, the First Duke of Somerset, had only one child... Margaret Beaufort.  His second son, Edmund Beaufort, the Second Duke of Somerset, is the one who caused all the trouble.  Edmund had three sons, all of whom died fighting in the War of the Roses.  Edmund Beaufort also had two illegitimate sons.  One, Edward by Margaret of Anjou, died fighting at Tewkesbury. 

   

The other illegitimate son, Edmund Tudor, married Edmund Beaufort's niece Margaret Beaufort to produce Henry Tudor.  If one believes that Edmund Beaufort was Edmund Tudor's father, then Edmund Tudor was Margaret's first cousin, in which case the royal house of ‘Tudor’ sprang in fact from Beauforts on both sides. 

This would be very ironic.  Edmund Beaufort, the leader of the House of Lancaster, was the big loser during the War of the Roses.  In addition to getting himself killed, his three sons were killed, his son-in-law was killed, his grandson was killed, and one of his illegitimate sons was killed.  Through his family's pursuit of the throne, the entire male line of the Beauforts was extinguished. 

Now only Edmund's niece Margaret Beaufort was left, which explains how she became the head of the House of Lancaster.  Thanks to Margaret, Edmund Beaufort's bastard son Edmund Tudor found the Tudor Line.  In order words, Edmund Beaufort's ambition eradicated the House of Beaufort, but he also secretly started the House of Tudor.  Very curious.

As one can see, the future Henry VII was born with a claim to the English crown which was threadbare and ridiculously complicated.  So let me simplify things... his mother Margaret Beaufort would supply enough royal Plantagenet blood to allow her son Henry to become king in 1485. 

In my opinion, Margaret Beaufort was the most remarkable woman of her era.  She was blessed with talent and tremendous wealth, yet had to overcome unbelievable hardship to finally take control of her life.  Despite being one of the wealthiest women in England, Margaret Beaufort (1443-1509) went from a position of complete powerlessness to one of almost total power.  

We already know that Margaret was a direct descendant from the wealthy family of John of Gaunt.  As the first son of her grandfather John Beaufort, Margaret's father John Beaufort inherited vast estates as the Duke of Somerset

John Beaufort had endured 17 years as a prisoner of war, the longest imprisonment of any English aristocrat during the Hundred Years War.  By the time of his release, John was an embittered man, broken in both body and spirit, heavily in debt.  Beaufort returned to England long enough to sire Margaret, his only child, but then was immediately ordered to return to France for more fighting. 

   

Margaret never knew her father.  At the moment of her birth, her father was preparing to go to France to lead an important military expedition for King Henry VI.  Beaufort negotiated with the king to ensure that in case of his death the rights to Margaret's wardship and marriage would be granted only to his wife Margaret Beauchamp.  (Under English law, as a tenant-in-chief of the crown the wardship of Beaufort's heir fell to the crown under the feudal system.)

 

Alas, Margaret's father was a notable failure as a military commander just about the time Margaret was born.  His blunders in France contributed directly to the loss of many French territories towards the end of the Hundred Year's War.  John Beaufort fell out with the king after coming back from France and was banished from the royal court pending a charge of treason against him.  He committed suicide shortly afterwards in 1444. 

John Beaufort was not the only failure.  His brother Edmund Beaufort had failed even worse.  The lasting effect of the two Beaufort failures was burning resentment between the House of York and remaining members of the Beaufort family.  This would create the intense rivalry between Edmund Beaufort and Richard of York that led to the War of the Roses in 1453. 

Margaret, as an only child, was heiress to her father's fortune.  Upon her first birthday, King Henry VI broke the arrangement with Margaret's father and granted the wardship of her extensive lands to William de la Pole, 1st Duke of Suffolk, although Margaret herself remained in the custody of her mother Margaret Beauchamp.  Margaret knew happiness in her mother's home for three years, but then she was yanked away.

Apparently Margaret's mother Margaret Beauchamp did not have much say-so in the matter of her own daughter.  Incredibly, at age 4, Margaret was taken away to live with William de la Pole and his wife.  Two years later, Margaret was married.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Before his death, William de la Pole managed to arrange the marriage of his young ward Margaret to his son, John de la Pole.  Margaret was six years old!!  Her groom was an older man, seven.  The reason for the marriage?  De la Pole had been arrested and was looking to secure his son's future.  Imagine being six and married. 

In 1449, Henry VI dissolved this sham marriage and granted Margaret's wardship to his own half-brothers, Jasper and Edmund Tudor.  Margaret was 8.  Her two new 'parents' Edmund and Jasper were teenagers only about 10-12 years older than she was.

   

   
 

Edmund and Jasper Tudor

Edmund and Jasper Tudor were born five months apart in 1431.  Or so Wikipedia says.  Wikipedia lists Edmund's birthday as June 1431 and lists Jasper's birthday as November 1431.  The truth is that all these birthdays are guesses.  If indeed Edmund Beaufort was really Edmund Tudor's father, Edmund could have been born anywhere from three to four years earlier.  No one really knows.

Thanks to their mother Catherine, Edmund and Jasper were half-brothers to King Henry VI who was approximately ten years older.  Henry had no idea of their existence until 1436.  There was a good reason for that... Catherine kept the existence of her family a secret to avoid persecution.  It didn't work.  In 1436, someone informed Humphrey, the Regent, about Catherine's family.  Owen Tudor was arrested and sent to Newgate prison.  Catherine died at Bermondsey Abbey a few months later as a consequence of giving birth to her daughter.  On her death bed, Catherine told Henry the whole story. 

Owen Tudor was released from prison in 1439 thanks to Henry VI.  Henry granted him a general pardon, restoring his goods and lands

At his mother's dying request, Henry would also begin to care for the children.  Jasper, Edmund, and possibly their sister were put into the care of Katherine de la Pole, a nun at Barking Abbey, in Essex, from 1437 to 1442.  The de la Pole family was a great favorite of Henry VI.  Katherine was the sister of William de la Pole, 1st Duke of Suffolk, the family that was caring for Margaret Beaufort.  As one can see, the de la Poles were the connection that bound the fortunes of the Tudor boys and the Beaufort girl together.

In 1442, Henry VI, now 21, began to take a greater interest in the boy's upbringing.  Jasper and Edmund were brought to live at court. Henry arranged for the best priest to educate them intellectually and morally.  The brothers also received military training; when they grew up they were given military positions.  During this time, Henry grew very fond of the two boys and trusted them.    

In 1445, Henry VI married Margaret of Anjou.  Margaret was more or less the same age as the two boys.  The three of them got along just fine.  Margaret could see they had her husband's best interests at heart.  In addition, they had no blood ties to the English throne, so they were not a threat. 

In 1452, incredibly, Henry VI interfered with Margaret Beaufort's life again.  William de la Pole had come into great disfavor with Henry, so Henry decided to grant custody of Margaret to his two half-brothers, Edmund, 21, and Jasper Tudor, 20.  Now that Henry VI had come of age, he had the power to give earldoms to both brothers. Jasper became Earl of Pembroke 1n 1452 and Edmund became the First Earl of Richmond.  In turn, Edmund, 23, and Jasper, 21, gave Henry unwavering loyalty.  They fought for the Lancasters and promoted Henry's interests unwaveringly throughout their lives.

 

1453 was the year all hell would break loose in England.  England lost the Hundred Year's War, Margaret of Anjou was pregnant with Edmund Beaufort's illegitimate child, Henry VI collapsed into a catatonic state, and Richard of York was pushing hard to be named the heir presumptive of England.  

In 1453 William de la Pole fell into disfavor.  Shortly before his 1453 descent into madness, Henry VI dissolved Margaret Beaufort's first marriage and made her a ward of Edmund and Jasper with the understanding that Margaret, 9, would marry his half-brother Edmund went she grew old enough at age 12.  In March 1453, Edmund and Jasper were given joint custody of Margaret Beaufort, heiress of the Duke of Somerset. 

Two years later England was now embroiled in civil war.  Margaret was 12 when she married the 24-year-old Edmund Tudor on 1 November 1455.  The Wars of the Roses would cast a dark cloud over their marriage.  About four months after the wedding, Edmund was sent to uphold the authority of the King in South Wales. While he was there, Richard of York was overthrown by the re-awakened King Henry.  In retaliation, Yorkist forces were sent to engage those of Edmund Tudor in South Wales.  Edmund was captured at Carmarthen Castle.  He would die in captivity of bubonic plague on 3 November 1456. 

Margaret was seven months pregnant with their child when Edmund died.  Taken into the care of her brother-in-law Jasper at Pembroke Castle, the Countess gave birth on 28 January 1457 to her only child, Henry Tudor, the future Henry VII of England.  The birth was particularly difficult due to her young age and small size.  At one point, both the Countess and her child were close to death

Margaret would never give birth again.  In fact, sex was so painful that Margaret could barely stand the thought.  At 13, an age when some girls were still playing with dolls, Margaret was widowed with a baby boy and living in Wales, a rough and tumble world akin to living in the Wild, Wild West.  

   

Henry Stafford

Keep these three dates in mind:  3 November 1456.  28 January 1457.  6 April 1457.  Unless my math is wrong, each date is about two months apart, yes?   Husband dies, child is born, next husband begins.

Margaret was forced to marry at age 6, a thought our modern minds find inconceivable.  Her next experience was marriage at 12 to a man twice her age and twice her size.  That marriage was a nightmare.  First her new husband practically ruptured her having sex at too young an age.  Then she discovered Edmund was dead one year after the wedding.  Two months later she gave birth, an act that left her physically damaged in child birth and psychologically scarred. 

Margaret was understandably terrified of being stuck with another husband against her will.  So Margaret took matters into her own hands.  Before her child was even born, Margaret was already searching for her next husband.  Margaret set her eyes on Henry Stafford, 32, the younger son of the Duke of Buckingham.  It was a shrewd choice, a political transaction, not a personal one.  It was also a really gutsy move.

   

To request this marriage, Margaret was supposed to get permission from Humphrey Stafford, Henry Stafford's father.  This meant a 13 year old girl went to see a 54 year old man to ask if she could marry a 32 year old man.  One can only wonder if she waited till her child was born to go ask.  Does anyone besides me see the humor in this??

Humphrey Stafford was not just the powerful Duke of Buckingham, he was the most important member of the Lancastrian court.  This meant Margaret, age 13, 5 feet tall, 90 pounds, was meeting a 54 year-old peer of the realm to propose a marriage.  Mind you, these were the days when men ran the show. Yet frail Margaret, a remarkable teenager to say the least, was going toe to toe with one of England's big shots.  No doubt Margaret's confidence was assisted by the fact that she was a wealthy heiress of royal blood. 

The Duke of Buckingham approved her offer.  However, there was one problem... they were second cousins, so they needed a special dispensation in order to be married.  The approval came through on 6 April 1457.  This date took place just two months after Margaret gave birth on 28 January 1457.  The Countess had endured a rough childbirth, being close to death after childbirth.  Nevertheless, Margaret bounced back quickly.  She got off her death bed and immediately landed her next husband.  Impressive.

Incidentally, before I take this story any further, let me warn the reader of an impending deluge of identical names.  It took me an hour just to figure out there were two different Margaret Beauforts existing side by side.  Both Margarets had Beauchamps for mothers and both Margarets married Staffords.  Talk about confusing!

   

There was quite a bit of irony in Margaret's marriage to Henry Stafford... a special dispensation was required for the marriage of Margaret Beaufort and Henry Stafford because they were second cousins.  What was funny here is that previously Margaret Beaufort had unknowingly married her first cousin Edmund Tudor.

Let us not forget that Edmund Tudor potentially carried the madness of French king Charles VI.  With all this inbreeding, no wonder there is so much madness in the English line.  Thank goodness for all the illegitimate children.  Otherwise there would never be any fresh blood.

After the dispensation was granted, Margaret and Henry were free to marry.   On 3 January 1458, Margaret married Sir Henry Stafford (1425–1471), son of Humphrey Stafford, 1st Duke of Buckingham. 

However, her new marriage caused Margaret great heartache.  Margaret was forced to leave her baby son Henry behind at Pembroke Castle to go live with her new husband.  Jasper stayed behind to care for the baby boy not quite one yet. 

   

At the time Margaret married in 1458, the War of the Roses was at its most bitter stage.  The eventual York triumph in 1461 would bring changes to baby Henry's life. 

Control of Pembroke Castle passed to Lord William Herbert which meant Henry's Lancaster uncle Jasper was forced into exile while baby Henry stayed behind.  Since the wardship of Henry Tudor had been given to Lord Herbert, by law Henry was now living with a new family at Pembroke Castle in Wales. 

   

No doubt the little boy was bewildered... no father, no mother, no uncle, raised by strangers.  Fortunately Henry was treated well by his new family.  In addition, Margaret was allowed to see him occasionally.  Still, it broke her heart to know her son was growing up without her care.

The War of the Roses would cost the Stafford family immensely.

Margaret's husband Henry lost his brother Humphrey to Richard of York in the 1458 Battle of St. Albans.  His father Humphrey died in the pivotal 1460 Battle of Northampton to Warwick. 

In 1483, Henry's namesake nephew would die in a lost cause known as Buckingham's Rebellion.  Henry himself and his other brother John would both die in 1471 in battles trying to help Edward IV regain his throne. 

As one can see, in a manner similar to America's Civil War, the War of the Roses took an enormous toll of it own. 

 

Edward IV, a York, was the new king, so Margaret, a Lancaster, had to adjust.  Margaret had shown that she was a pragmatic woman.  In order to safeguard her fortunes, she and her husband Henry Stafford sought a rapprochement with Edward who fortunately was in a forgiving mood.  There are mixed accounts of Margaret's 13-year marriage to Henry Stafford.  On the one hand, Margaret and Henry were said to spend a great deal of time together.  The evidence of the Stafford household books shows that the couple rarely left each other's company, touring their estates and attending parliament together.

Thanks to Margaret's estate, money was not a problem, but in a way it was.  Henry Stafford had no title, but he did have some land.  Henry was given 400 marks' worth of land by the Duke of Buckingham.  This paled in comparison to Margaret's vast estates.  Strange as it must seem, this 13 year old girl dominated her 32 year old husband from the very start.  Stafford was a passive, gentle man.  Margaret got her way in virtually every dispute. 

Three years after they were married, the Yorks came into power.  Margaret was a Lancaster by birth.  So was Henry Stafford.  The couple did their best to come to terms with the new Yorkist dynasty.  Henry enjoyed close access to Edward IV, frequently hunting with him in Windsor park.  Henry and Margaret took advantage of the proximity of the King to entertain him at their hunting lodge at Brookwood.  Margaret had risen high enough in the King’s favor that they even entertained him at their home, always a huge undertaking.  What must have been going through Margaret’s head as she wined and dined the man who was responsible for so many deaths in her family?

Henry Stafford seemed exasperated with Margaret much of the time.   To begin with, Margaret was extremely pious.  Her religious tendencies made it difficult for Henry to deal with her sense of righteousness.  Every time he turned around, Margaret was explaining why he had to do something because it was 'God's Will'. 

The real strain in their marriage came when Margaret began to talk fervently about the day her son would become king.  Margaret claimed to have had a vision that her son would one day become king.  With no other children a possibility due to Margaret's earlier childbirth injuries, Margaret began to obsess about Henry.  Margaret, with her deep faith, believed that it was always God’s plan that Henry should be king. 

Unfortunately, this kind of talk was treasonous in a time when mercy was in short supply.  Stafford was torn between his obvious concern for his wife's well-being and his annoyance at her fanatical nature, given that he supported the Yorkists despite his wife's strong (and hidden) loyalty to the Lancasters.  Fortunately, Margaret had the sense to keep her radical talk inside the family walls.  She wisely kept a low political profile during her 13-year marriage to Henry Stafford. 

In 1470, Warwick and Margaret of Anjou had made their deal with the Devil.  Warwick's surprise rebellion caught King Edward totally flat-footed.  Edward barely escaped to Flanders while his wife Elizabeth Woodville took their children and fled to Westminster Abbey for sanctuary.  The Lancasters were back in charge.

One year later, in 1471 Edward staged his counter-attack.  Margaret's husband Henry Stafford suffered serious wounds at the Battle of Barnet while fighting for the victorious Yorkist side.  Henry died of his wounds shortly after.  Margaret could not decide whether she was sad or glad.  Henry Stafford had always been good to her, but she what she really wanted to do was focus on her son's destiny. 

   

There was a strange consequence emanating from the 1471 Battle of Barnet and subsequent Battle of Tewkesbury... the leading Lancaster men were dead!! 

The secret pillow-smother execution of Lancaster King Henry VI shortly thereafter left Margaret Beaufort and her son Henry Tudor as the senior representatives of the House of Lancaster. 

With the male line of the House of Lancaster extinct, Henry Tudor claimed to be the Lancastrian heir through his mother Margaret Beaufort.  In addition, Margaret reminded everyone that her son's father Edmund was the maternal half-brother of Henry VI.

However, at this point (1471), Yorkist Edward IV was securely established on the throne.  Henry Tudor, now 14, and Jasper Tudor were Lancasters, so they wisely went to Brittany, France, in exile. 

Meanwhile, back in England, Margaret prayed for her son Henry.  Someday Henry might have an outside shot at the throne!

   

 

Henry Tudor
 

The White Queen was a ten-part British television drama which told the War of the Roses from the female perspective.  The series was based on Philippa Gregory's historical novels The White Queen, The Red Queen, and The Kingmaker's Daughter.  It explained how three relentless women - Elizabeth Woodville, Margaret Beaufort, and Anne Neville - vied to put their sons on the throne in 15th Century England.

Margaret Beaufort left Pembroke Castle when she married Henry Stafford in 1458.  Her departure came just 28 days after giving birth toher baby boy.  This picture shows a scene in the TV series when young Henry barely knew his own mother when Margaret came to visit.  Margaret was beside herself with misery at being separated from Henry, but there was little she could do about it. 

I have to say that the White Queen series brought things to life in ways that are far superior to reading the dry Wikipedia accounts of the same events. 

The TV series was fascinating, but it was also ridiculously confusing.  There were so many characters I could not keep track of them all... sort of like my story, right?  

I will say, however, I always knew who Margaret Beaufort (Amanda Hale) was.  Margaret dominated every scene thanks to her religious zeal and fanatic determination to promote her son to the throne.

Young Henry had to struggle his entire childhood.  Like his mother, Henry Tudor never knew his father.  In 1456, Henry's father Edmund Tudor was captured while fighting for Henry VI in South Wales against the Yorkists.  He died in Carmarthen Castle, three months before Henry was born.  Edmund's brother Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, undertook to protect the young widow Margaret, who was 13 years old when she gave birth to Henry in 1457.  

The second picture is amusing because it reveals that Margaret, 42, a child bride, was young enough for her son, 28, to date.  But let's not go there. 

Henry spent his youth negotiating danger caused by the nightmare politics of the unending Wars of the Roses.  Fortunately, Henry always seemed to have Jasper, his loyal uncle, at his side for protection.  Jasper was a godsend. 

When the Lancasters were in power, Henry and Jasper were safe because King Henry VI was Jasper's half-brother.  But when the Yorks were in charge, Jasper was in danger.  Therefore when Edward IV overthrew Henry VI in 1461, Jasper Tudor went into exile abroad, but Henry stayed behind at Pembroke Castle.   The Earldom of Pembroke was granted to the Yorkist William Herbert, who now assumed the guardianship of the young Henry, 4. 

Talk about feeling orphaned!  Young Henry had never known a father and had been parted from his uncle and mother as well. Fortunately, the Herberts seem to have treated the boy kindly and had given him gentleman's education


Henry lived in the Herbert household for 8 years.  In 1469 Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, the Kingmaker, double-crossed and went over to the Lancaster side.  Lord Herbert was captured fighting for the Yorkists and executed by Warwick.  There was a terrible scene where young Henry had to watch his guardian Herbert beheaded.  Fortunately the boy himself was safe because Warwick was fighting for the Lancasters.

When Warwick restored Henry VI to the throne a year later in 1470, Jasper Tudor returned from exile and brought Henry Tudor to royal court.  However, Henry VI's reinstatement lasted only a year until Edward IV's comeback.

During Edward's comeback, following the Battle of Barnet, Henry had returned with his Uncle Jasper to Pembroke Castle.  It was Jasper that Margaret of Anjou had been so desperately trying to reach when Edward chased her down at Tewkesbury.  This battle affected Henry Tudor in a strange way. 

John Beaufort died in the fighting at the 1471 Battle of Tewkesbury.  John's older brother Edmund Beaufort II took refuge in Tewkesbury Abbey.  He was soon forced from sanctuary and executed.  Since the Beaufort brothers died unmarried, "the house of Beaufort and all the honors to which they were entitled became extinct". 

In other words, Tewkesbury was the 'end of the line' for the House of Beaufort, at least on the legitimate male side.  Margaret Beaufort and her son Henry were now the senior representatives of the House of Lancaster. 

The secret execution of King Henry VI came a week later in the Tower of London.  His death left Henry as the main threat to Edward IV.  Henry did not have much of a claim to the throne, but his pedigree... son of a woman who descended from royalty, son of a man who descended from the former queen... was upsetting to the Yorkists.  

This explains why Henry, 14, was forced to begin living in exile in France for his own safety.  Sensing Edward would come after them, Jasper and Henry narrowly escaped a forming siege by the Yorkist army at Pembroke Castle. They managed to sail to Brittany in 1471

With Yorkist King Edward IV back on the throne, Henry Tudor was now a marked man.  Since it was not safe for him to return to England, Henry would not see his mother again for 14 years.  During this period, the relationship between mother and her only son was sustained by letters.

Brittany had become something of a Lancastrian refuge.  Henry, Jasper, and a band of Lancaster loyalists spent the next 14 years under the protection of Francis II, Duke of Brittany, while Henry waited for an opening.

Duke Francis protected Henry from England's Yorkist king, Edward IV, who wanted him in his own hands. Louis XI of France also tried to get Henry into his clutches.  It was such a desperately insecure situation that Henry developed sharp instincts to survive.  The young Tudor grew to manhood cautious, prudent and deeply reserved.  This was good because Henry would need his wits to save him from danger three times in the coming years. 

The first escape came in November 1476.  When Francis, Henry's protector, fell ill, his principal advisers negotiated with the English king.  Henry was handed over and escorted to the Breton port of Saint-Malo. 

While there, Henry feigned stomach cramps.  In the confusion, Henry fled into a monastery.  Edward IV ordered his extraction with the intention of executing the lad, 19.  However, the townspeople took exception to this strong-arm behavior and alerted Duke Francis.  He recovered from his illness long enough to send a small band of scouts to rescue Henry. 

This had been a close call.  There would be others.

 



 

Lord Thomas Stanley

Following Henry Stafford's death, Margaret, 28, was a widow again, but not for long.  One year later she remarried.  Margaret wanted to begin playing politics, but she needed a ticket to enter the rarified circles of the Royal Court.  She set her sights on Lord Thomas Stanley.  Stanley, 36, was a landed magnate of immense power, particularly across the northwest of England where his authority went almost unchallenged, even by the Crown. 

Stanley was one of the most successful power-brokers of his age.  As testament to his gift for negotiating the treacherous climate, Stanley managed to remain in favor with successive kings throughout the Wars of the Roses.  That in itself speaks to Stanley's considerable wisdom. 

Stanley's first wife was Eleanor Neville, sister of Richard Neville, the Kingmaker.  This marriage in the late 1450s constituted a powerful alliance with the House of York.  Then tragedy struck.  Eleanor died of natural causes in 1471, the same year Margaret lost her husband. 

Margaret made a shrewd political move when she decided to chase Lord Stanley.  Margaret had just targeted the most powerful and trusted supporter of the ruling Yorks to be Husband number three.  She wanted a man who was clever enough to see that her son might have a chance at the throne one day and duplicitous enough to serve two sides at once. 

She found her perfect partner in Thomas Lord Stanley.  But why would he be interested in her??

As it turned out, Thomas Stanley, 36, was a businessman who loved to explore opportunities.  Stanley was very intrigued by this small, intense woman from the opposing side of the fence. 

   

Stanley, a man of considerable acumen, was a game player of sorts.  He had a theory that the only way to win all the time was to place a bet on both sides.  In this case, Stanley, a Yorkist through and through, had just been offered the chance to team up with a wealthy, well-connected member of the Lancaster family.  In a country where political change took place with mercurial speed, no doubt Margaret would come in handy because she would provide protection from any Lancaster developments.  In addition, she had this kid of hers as a Wild Card.  The birthright of her fugitive son might just prove useful as well. 

   

Stanley lacked for nothing... he had three male heirs, plenty of land, and a strong relationship with the crown.  What Stanley lacked was a challenge.  When Margaret pointed out her son had a shot at becoming king, Stanley just laughed. 

"Margaret, there are five men between your son and the crown - Edward, George, Richard, and Edward's two sons.  More heirs could be born.  The chances of your Henry getting a chance are very remote."

"Yes, Lord Stanley, but I have been given a vision.  Don't ask me to explain it, but I have a strong belief in my heart that Henry is meant to be king.  I want you to help me."

Stanley was amused.  A marriage to this unusual woman might prove interesting.  Stanley was not interested in a wife for romantic reasons, but rather for political reasons.    The marriage settlement, drawn up in June 1472, was a careful business arrangement of mutual benefit. The risk was low and the potential benefits were high.  Two of England's wealthiest figures had just teamed up. 

Stanley got to work immediately.  With Stanley's assistance, Margaret was able to consolidate her landed estates.  In addition, Stanley introduced Margaret to the enemy.  Lord Stanley's influence enabled her to enter the royal court of Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville.  To Stanley's surprise and further amusement, Margaret blended in and became very well liked.  Margaret was so liked in fact that Queen Elizabeth chose her as a godmother for Bridget of York, one of the princesses. 

The War of Roses had taken its toll.  After the death of so many leading Lancaster men, Margaret was now the most powerful Lancaster woman in England.  Her new Yorkist connections might seem to contradict Margaret as a committed Lancastrian, but Margaret was deliberately courting favor on both sides.  Margaret was building a power base.

Warwick the Kingmaker had once been Lord Stanley's brother-in-law.  Margaret wanted to be the next Kingmaker.  Her first step had been to gain this alliance with a powerful man.  To her delight, Lord Stanley got a kick out of watching her go to town. 

 

During the twelve year lull in fighting between Edward IV's 1471 victories and his death in 1483, Margaret used this time to learn how to negotiate the world of political affairs.  Her dominant characteristic was her political astuteness rather than blindly partisan allegiance. Margaret's way was to make friends and gain consensus through contacts and favors.  If the day ever came for her son Henry to make his move, these alliances would come in handy.  Stanley approved.  As he had guessed, watching this tiny, absurdly pious woman in action was like looking at himself in a mirror in oh so many ways.  Margaret was a woman after his own heart. 

   

When King Henry VI briefly returned to the throne in 1470, Margaret was there to welcome him.  When Edward IV regained the throne in 1471, Margaret changed stripes and was there to welcome him. 

Margaret deliberately avoided controversy.  In fact, Margaret went out of her way to make peace with the Yorks.  She struck up a cordial relationship with none other than Queen Elizabeth.  Considering the Queen had a considerable number of enemies, to see Elizabeth let down her guard a bit spoke well of Margaret.  Elizabeth seemed to appreciate Margaret's sharp eye and humility.

By 1480, Margaret was cozy enough with Queen Elizabeth to be named god mother to Bridget of York.  Margaret had gained enough trust that she felt safe negotiating with Edward for a pardon for her son so that he could return from exile.   However, Edward died suddenly in April of 1483.  So much for the pardon.  The Wheel of Fortune had turned again. 

   

Following Edward IV's untimely death and the subsequent seizure of the throne by Richard III, both Stanley and Margaret changed their spots brilliantly.  Lord Stanley, a cynical man, made sure to be one of the first to shake Richard's hand.  Later Lord Stanley bore the great mace at Richard's coronation. 

In turn, Margaret played her part to perfection.  She too was full of smiles and congratulations.  Indeed, Margaret played a leading part in the coronation of Richard III by being the first to offer to serve Anne Neville.  Smart move.  Margaret was given the honor of carrying Anne's train at Richard's coronation. 

However this time Margaret's friendship was two-faced.  She knew her moment had come.  Stanley did too. 

"Well, Margaret, I never should have doubted you about your son.  Indeed, the game is afoot.  Let's see what happens."

Sure enough, while appearing to loyally serve Richard and Anne, the new king and queen, Margaret was secretly plotting with the dowager queen, Elizabeth Woodville.

   

Mainstream Versus Creativity

   

Rick Archer's Note:  Few subjects hold more interest to the English people than the question of what happened to the Princes in the Tower.   For American citizens, the question of who assassinated President Kennedy is a close approximation to the amount of mystery surrounding this event. 

Keep in mind that we don't know if the princes were murdered or simply whisked away to Transylvania and never heard of again.  It is also important to note that few documents exist to offer clear-cut clues as to the fate of these two boys.  Therefore the historians have worked overtime trying to come up the answer.

The Mainstream theory is that Richard disposed of the boys.  I have found an excellent author named Matthew Lewis to defend this point of view.  The Creative theory is that Margaret Beaufort did it, a point of view best defended by an excellent author named Philippa Gregory espouses this point of view. 

Please understand that I respect the thoughts of both.  I present the ideas of both authors simply to allow the reader to join the interesting debate. 

 
   

Matthew Lewis

The importance of the vanished Princes in the Tower cannot be emphasized enough.  Back in the 15th century, in the court of public opinion, it was judged to be an unusually cruel move for Richard III to usurp the throne by murdering his dead brother's innocent and quite helpless sons. 

But did Richard really murder those boys?  The question has been heavily debated for six centuries.  In fact, I am surprised that an English version of a the board game Clue has not been invented with a Princes in the Tower theme. 

In addition to Richard, other murder suspects include a low-life agent hired by Margaret Beaufort, Lord Stanley himself, the Duke of Buckingham, a low-life agent hired by Anne Neville, and even Henry Tudor after he took the throne. 

   

What we do know is that the disappearance of the Princes in the Tower was seemingly a glaring political mistake on Richard's part because it was an unforgivable act.  History shows that the disappearance of these boys was the break of a lifetime for Margaret.  She was able to muster considerable support for the overthrow of Richard III based on what people believed was the blatant cold-blooded murder of the two boys. 

What is interesting, however, is just how much Margaret stood to gain from Richard's blunder.  In fact, Margaret stood to gain so much that people have long wondered if Margaret did the deed herself, then turned around and pointed her finger at Richard. 

Was it even possible?

Yes, according to author Matthew Lewis, it was. 

In his book Wars of the Roses, Mr. Lewis supports the mainstream idea that Richard was the likely culprit.  However, in his blog, Mr. Lewis also agrees the possibility that Margaret did the crime is not entirely implausible.  Those who automatically eliminate Margaret from suspicion are being ridiculous.  I have synthesized Mr. Lewis' ideas below, but you are welcome to read for yourself what Mr. Lewis has to say online: 

Matt's History Blog
~ Hopefully interesting snippets and thoughts regarding Margaret Beaufort and the Princes in the Tower

"The White Queen series (based on books by Philippa Gregory) stirred up the latent and under-examined but long-standing theory linking Margaret Beaufort to the disappearance and murder of the Princes in the Tower.  In short order, the increased attention drew an onslaught of opinion denouncing the theory as impossible, implausible nonsense.

My point here is that all of those who sneer at the notion that Margaret Beaufort could have been involved are, in my opinion, wrong.

Margaret had motive, means and opportunity, and that makes her a suspect."

   

Here is my summary of what Mr. Lewis proceed to say about Margaret's possible involvement. 

In the summer of 1483 Lord and Lady Stanley were riding high in royal favor.  Since they had done nothing to attract suspicion, they had easy access to the Tower.  We think of the Tower of London as a prison, but it was more like a royal office building back in those days.  The boys were not in some dungeon, but rather a comfortable royal suite (with locked doors).   Since the Tower was a very busy place, regular comings and goings for people of such influence as Lady Stanley or Lord Stanley would not necessarily be noticed.  Therefore, 'Opportunity' was surely within their reach. 

Considering Margaret had the reputation as the most pious woman in England, a cold-blooded assassination would certainly be considered a major departure from character.  That said, Margaret had Motive (her son's advancement), Means (Lord Stanley), and Opportunity. 

This doesn't mean Margaret committed the crime, but it does mean that Margaret was a viable suspect.  Therefore Ms. Gregory's alternative scenario with Margaret as the villain to Richard as the villain is not as far-fetched as people believe. 

There is a clear evidence that Margaret Beaufort immediately went to work plotting Richard's downfall shortly after his coronation.  The moment people began to openly wonder why the boys had not been seen in a while, it seems likely that Margaret opened up a clandestine line of communication to Elizabeth Woodville holed up in sanctuary at Westminster Abbey.

Margaret used her physician Lewis Caerleon, who posed as Elizabeth’s physician, to pass messages between the two women.

Most historians agree that at this time Margaret proposed that her son, Henry Tudor, be betrothed to Elizabeth of York, eldest daughter of Queen Elizabeth and Edward IV.  On the surface, this was brilliant politics because it had to potential to create a marriage alliance which would attract both Yorkist and Lancastrian support. 

Where is Sherlock Holmes when we need him??

   

While Mr. Lewis agrees with Ms. Gregory that Margaret may indeed have been far more complicit in the crime than most historians believe, in his book War of the Roses, he accepts the Mainstream Scenario that Richard was the culprit. 

Mr. Lewis makes the following points:

   The idea that Margaret spent her whole life dreaming of putting Henry on the throne was far-fetched.  More likely her ambition took hold thanks to the curious events of Edward the King dying young and his unscrupulous brother Richard taking over. 

   Elizabeth would never have agreed to marry her daughter to Henry Tudor unless she was convinced her two boys had been murdered.  The likelihood that her sons were indeed dead is what persuaded Elizabeth to agree to marry her daughter Elizabeth of York to Henry Tudor. 

   Therefore, Margaret must have somehow convinced Elizabeth that the boys were gone.   If this is the case, then how did Margaret know the boys were dead? 

   Mr. Lewis answered his own question by saying that Margaret did not know, but had the sense to gamble and lie to Elizabeth about it. 

Please read the excerpt below written by Matthew Lewis. 

   
   
 


The Creativity of Philippa Gregory

 
 

The White Queen mini-series was adapted from a trilogy titled The Cousin's War.  In Episode 9, author Philippa Gregory made it clear she believed Margaret, not Richard, was responsible for the death of Elizabeth Woodville's two princes in the Tower.

In an early scene, Lord Stanley confronts Margaret Beaufort, his wife.  Stanley gets right to the point.

“What do you want to do about the two boys?  Save or slaughter?”

When Margaret gets a pained, doubtful look on her face, Stanley is not delicate about it.  He points out the necessity of their deaths.  However he also leaves the final decision up to his wife.  

When Margaret continues to hesitate, Lord Stanley demands of her harshly. “As I said, save or slaughter?”

With a nod, Margaret finally agrees the two boys have to go. 

Soon we see a hooded figure creep into the boy's room in the Tower and smother them to death with a pillow.  This was not Richard's idea after all, but rather an idea shared by Margaret, Stanley, and Buckingham as part of their rebellion plot. 

 
 

First Margaret sends her doctor to explain to Elizabeth that the two boys are in great danger.  Elizabeth, fearing for the boys' safety, accepts an offer of help to rescue them by Margaret, whose son Henry is now betrothed to Elizabeth's daughter Lizzie.

However something goes badly awry with the rescue/murder attempt.  Somehow the boys end up dead on a further try.  Margaret sends the doctor back over with the bad news.  Learning that her boys are dead, Elizabeth believes that she was double-crossed by Margaret in the Red Queen's ambition to see Henry crowned king.

When Elizabeth hears the news of her sons' death, she is overcome with grief.  And not just ordinary grief, but rather the profound grief of a mother who truly cares about her children.  Suspecting that Margaret is behind this, Elizabeth vows to get even. 

A week or so passes when Elizabeth hears there is rebellion about to take place against Richard.  This entire operation is being planned and funded by Margaret.  Elizabeth also learns that a major part of the plan involves Henry's return to England by crossing the English Channel.  Margaret's son Henry is supposed to sail with seven ships from France over to England to participate in the wide-spread uprising.  If the plot succeeds, Henry will take the throne.  Elizabeth is determined to foil this rebellion, but she has a problem... she is still stuck inside the sanctuary at Westminster Abbey with her twenty daughters (or maybe it was just seven; I lost count). 

So here is the question:  How does a mother tyically foil a rebellion while stuck in a virtual prison of sorts?

C'mon, now, I know a lot of you out there are mothers.  Surely this qualifies you to know exactly what the average mother would do to seek vengeance in a situation like this.  Well, just in case you come up empty, I will share with you what author Philippa Gregory suggested Elizabeth did.

Ms. Gregory had previously told us that Elizabeth inherited the power of sorcery from her mother Jacquetta.  Furthermore, while trapped in the Abbey, Elizabeth had just viewed Walt Disney's Fantasia.  Think about it... what does a mother with twenty daughters do when everyone is cooped up at home?  She gets out a video and the family watches the telly, of course. 

Fantasia gave Elizabeth an idea.  The next thing we see is that Margaret and her kinsman Buckingham have instigated a large-scale rebellion against Richard, but rebellion fails miserably.  And why does the Rebellion fail?

There is a storm.  And not a natural storm either, but rather the storm of all storms.

   

It is almost as if 'Fate' or God has intervened to foil the rebellion.  The storm completely ruined the rebellion, but then we discover this is Elizabeth's doing.

Using the magic words 'Mickey Mouse', Elizabeth has created the biggest, baddest damn storm in human history.

Birmingham was unable to cross rivers because the bridges are washed out.  Henry was unable to leave France because the storm is too great.  The rebellion collapsed.

 

Indeed, Elizabeth's sorcery ruined Margaret's grandiose scheme.  Elizabeth had her vengeance.   

So did it really happen this way?  Uh, maybe not.  I have a confession to make... I did some fibbing involved in the retelling of Episode Nine.  That part about Mickey Mouse was just some nonsense I made up.   But you already guessed that, didn't you?

And what about that big storm?  No, I didn't make that one up.  That was Ms. Gregory's idea.  She had Elizabeth Woodville wrinkle her nose a couple times and magically create the mother of all storms to frustrate Buckingham's rebellion and foil Margaret's dreams. 

 
 
 
 

One reviewer of the White Queen had this to say about White Queen Episode Nine:

"Philippa Gregory’s project - and so that of her White Queen series - was to tell a ripping yarn whilst refocusing history’s lens on the women whose political and emotional lives were buried beneath their official portraits and lists of issue."

Ripping yarn??  That may be a bit of an understatemnt.  I do not know Ms. Gregory personally, but I suspect she has used her imagination a bit in this retelling.  My hunch is this prolific, best-selling author did not achieve her phenomenal success by playing it safe.  In fact, I believe when given the choice, Ms. Gregory has made a habit of deliberately choosing the most entertaining option over the more mundane possibilities.   And why not?  No one really knows what happened six hundred years ago. 

As we know, England has an impressive legacy of stretching things a bit.  Witness the King Arthur mythology... Camelot, Holy Grail, Sword in the Stone, Guinevere, Lancelot, Galahad, Merlin... you name it.   But guess what?   (WARNING- SPOILER ALERT!!)

(Did you know some people believe all that King Arthur stuff was made up?  Have you ever heard anything more ridiculous?

And then there was that nonsense about what a great king Richard the Lionheart was...  And then there was that crazy story about Robin Hood and Maid Maiden, etc, etc, etc.

And... get this... some people have the nerve to say that William Shakespeare made some things up.  Yes, it's true!  In a manner similar to William Shakespeare, I think there are moments when a master yarn-teller such as Ms. Gregory would not dream of letting the truth get in the way of a good story.    If perchance Ms. Gregory used her imagination from time to time in telling the White Queen story, then who am I to quibble?  I daresay Ms. Gregory did not become a best-selling author by accident. 

 

For example, Ms. Gregory makes frequent use of Elizabeth's knack for sorcery.  The fact of the matter is that I would be perfectly happy to let the sorcery of the White Queen explain all sorts of weird phenomena such as the Bermuda Triangle and the Lost Continent of Atlantis.  I can be very open-minded.  In fact, maybe this would be a good time to confess I have written two books explaining why I believe in Fate.  (A Simple Act of Kindness, Destiny)

Unfortunately, despite my unapologetic embrace of all things Occult, the story of Hurricane Elizabeth was too implausible for even me to accept.  My built-in bullshit detector was having fits. 

On the other hand, I would prefer not to cross literary swords with the brilliant Philippa Gregory.  Since Ms. Gregory clearly knows more about this story than I can ever hope to know, I hope she doesn't take umbrage at my temerity to suggest a potential over-reach.

Let's put the debate over the big storm aside and concentrate instead on Ms. Gregory's claim that Margaret was responsible for the death of the two boys. 

According to Philippa Gregory, Margaret Beaufort had the strongest motive to eliminate the two boys.  Ms. Gregory pointed out that the death of the two boys allowed her son Henry Tudor to advance Two Steps closer to the throne Two steps, eh??  Aha, now this is a subject I am qualified to comment on! 

Being a dance teacher from Texas, I happen to be an expert at the Texas Two Step.  I say that gives me the right to offer my opinion on the Tower Two Step as well.  Personally, considering how religious Margaret was, my gut feeling is a murder of this nature would go too far against her conscience. 

When it came to religion, Margaret was on par with the Pope for intensity.  Although it is true that Margaret was at times fanatical in her support of Henry, based on the woman I saw portrayed on the White Queen and in the journals, I think Margaret deserves the benefit of the doubt on this one. 

I am with Gareth Streeter of Royal History Geeks on this one:  Margaret was not a sinister child killer.  I am not saying Margaret was perfect, but she was more likely to pray for something to happen than to sanction a hit.  To me, Richard III makes a heck of a lot more sense.  Shakespeare thought so too.

"

 

Richard was the one with the reputation for ruthlessness, not Margaret.  He had ordered several battlefield executions such as the beheading of Edward of Westminster at Tewkesbury.  He was likely present in the Tower to help his brother Edward suffocate old King Henry VI.  Richard had persuaded his brother Edward to put George to death.  Richard had sanctioned the cold-blooded murder of Elizabeth Woodville's beloved brother Anthony Woodville and her son Richard Grey.  Richard had assassinated Lord Hastings, the man who had been the most loyal supporter of the York cause imaginable.  Richard had blatantly kidnapped two boys and held them against their will. 

How much more evidence of Richard's cold-blooded nature do we need?  Richard was past the point of rescue.  Since Richard had already murdered several innocent men to eliminate threats to his rule, what difference would it make to murder two boys if it would clear the way for his crown??  After all, Richard's place in Hell was already assured. 

Yes, the history is very murky here.  How did Margaret manage to persuade Elizabeth to the union of Henry Tudor to Elizabeth of York?  My guess is that both women independently reached the same conclusion as the other.  So when Margaret's doctor brought up the possibility of foul pay, Elizabeth was already in agreement.  If Elizabeth did have a gift of sorts, no doubt her sixth sense had told her to brace for the worst. 

Here is the bottom line:  Elizabeth agreed to collaborate with Margaret and let her daughter marry Henry Tudor.   Give this cooperation, it makes little sense that Elizabeth would create a storm designed to destroy Henry Tudor, then turn around and agree to let him marry her daughter.  It makes much more sense that Elizabeth agreed with Margaret that Richard was guilty of foul play in the first place. 

Richard had kidnapped Edward and Richard to begin with and refused to allow them to be freed or be visited.  That put the blame squarely on Richard.  Therefore it makes complete sense for the two women to team up against a common enemy.  Unless the boys made a miraculous reappearance, the women would work together to promote Henry Tudor’s prospects of taking the throne.  The two women had made an unbelievable bargain. 

 


Postscript:
  After giving it some more thought, no, I still don't think Margaret did it.  But I wouldn't put it past Lord Stanley to do it behind Margaret's back.  That said, I have yet to find a credible source that points the finger at him. 

In addition, Mr. Streeter had this to say about Lord Stanley: 

"The Croyland Chronicle (c. 1486) and the account of Dominic Mancini (the only contemporary account) are important.  Collectively these documents give us a fair bit of information about how the Princes were drawn further deeper into the tower.  They make the case that all but Richard's closest and most trusted servants were dismissed and denied access to them.

It is this knowledge that is at the heart of the compelling - although circumstantial - evidence that the poor lads could only have been killed on Richard's orders or at the very least, he would soon have found out about it.

To me, it seems strange that if Stanley had done the deed, that Richard would not have been able to trace it back to him. Exposing the killer would have done Richard a favour - he could make it clear that the boys were dead but also that he was blameless. Such a scenario would probably have meant the Tudors never came to power."
 

Concerning the mystery of the Princes in the Tower, I also found a remarkable web site that helps clarify the murder case.  A man by the name of Mick Baker has synthesized an incredible amount of research into a remarkably comprehensible flow chart.  I am in awe of Mr. Baker's work.   (Source: History Files)

 

 

Buckingham's Rebellion

 

Henry Stafford, the 2nd Duke of Buckingham, led a rebellion in mid October 1483, just four months after Richard's coronation.   Stafford had been Richard’s closest ally over the last few months, so no one is quite sure why Stafford turned against his partner in crime.

Stafford was one of the primary suspects in the disappearance (and presumed murder) of the Princes in the Tower.  Most people assume that Buckingham and Richard acted together in the death of the boys. 

Considering Buckingham was basically the 'Vice-President', or 'president of vice' if you prefer, it is surprising that he turned around and led a rebellion.  Perhaps the death of the two boys triggered Stafford's rebellion.  In the same manner as all the male Lancasters had been eliminated, now that the two princes were gone, Stafford (Buckingham), Richard III and Henry Tudor were the only surviving male heirs to the House of Plantagenet. 

The reasons why Buckingham led a rebellion against Richard are not clear but several possibilities can be considered.  First, Buckingham had just as legitimate a claim to the throne as Richard.  Gauging by popular dissatisfaction with the new king, Buckingham might feel he should take his chances and set himself up as the rival claimant (particularly since Edward V and Richard of York were supposedly murdered).  Second, as a rival claimant, Buckingham undoubtedly felt uneasy about his own safety.  Knowing Richard's penchant for murder and that he was a potential rival, it was possible he would decide to murder Buckingham as well.  As in all the gangster movies, the thug who hits first usually comes out on top. 

Assuming that Buckingham suspected his own life was forfeit with Richard III, he decided to team up with Henry Tudor to eliminate Richard.  He and Tudor could sort out things once Richard was defeated. 

This particular explanation is explained well in William Shakespeare's Richard III

   

Synopsis of Shakespeare's Richard III: Act IV, scene 2

Back in the palace, the gloating Richard, the recently crowned king of England, enters in triumph with Buckingham and Catesby.  Richard announces that he does not yet feel secure in his position of power. He tells Buckingham that he wants the two young princes, the rightful heirs to the throne, to be murdered in the tower.

To murder innocent children is a serious crime.  For the first time, Buckingham does not obey Richard immediately.  He hesitates and says he needs more time to think about the request.

Disgusted, Richard murmurs to himself that Buckingham is too weak to continue to be his right-hand man.  Instead he summons a lowlife named Tyrrell who is more than willing to accept the mission. 

In almost the same breath, Richard instructs Catesby to begin spreading the rumor that Queen Anne Neville is sick.  Tell everyone she is likely to die.  Then Richard gives orders to keep the queen confined.  That accomplished, Richard turns to the audience and announces his intention to marry the fetching Elizabeth of York, daughter of the late King Edward.  The implication is that Richard plans to murder Queen Anne at the first convenient moment.

Buckingham, uneasy about his future, suggests it is time for Richard to give him earldom of Hereford as Richard has promised earlier.  Richard angrily rejects Buckingham’s demands and walks out on him.

Buckingham, left alone, realizes he has fallen out of Richard’s favor.  He decides to flee to his family home in Wales before he meets the same ill fate of Richard’s other enemies...

   

If we can believe Shakespeare's explanation (and many do), after leaving London, the Duke of Buckingham paid Margaret Beaufort a visit.  Keep in mind there were two 'Henry Staffords' in Margaret's life.  One was her deceased husband Henry Stafford who died in 1471 of injuries suffered at Tewkesbury.  The other was her nephew Henry Stafford, the son of Humphrey Stafford, brother to her deceased husband.  This is who came to visit.

Margaret's sense of opportunism led her to support Buckingham's daring autumn rebellion of 1483.  Here she plotted to unite York and Lancaster factions in a risky scheme to bring her son to the throne.  One part of the plan had the exiled Henry Tudor bring seven ships over from Brittany carrying 500 well-armed Breton soldiers and Lancastrian followers. 

In retrospect, the timing was probably premature.  Although Richard was unpopular, the rumors of his treacherous deeds had not quite spread to the population at large.  Consequently this rebellion did not have strong support.  Nor did it have good luck. 

Right from the start there was trouble.  Buckingham was not exactly a charmer.  His Welsh army decided they liked him less than Richard III.  Loyalty was an immediate problem.

Then a ten-day gale ended their dream completely.  Due to a tremendous storm which battered England, the Severn River became swollen and ferocious, bursting its banks at many points.  With bridges unusable, Buckingham could find no crossing. 

Seeing this fight had no chance of working, Buckingham's men men deserted him.

Meanwhile, out in the English, Channel, Henry Tudor’s fleet had been scattered by the same storm.  However Henry's ship managed to get close enough to land. 

Henry decided to risk coming ashore alone and have a look around.  As he rowed to shore, Henry was hailed by a group of soldiers on the beach as a victorious conqueror.  Henry stopped rowing so he could discuss his 'Victory'.  The men on shore assured Henry that Buckingham had succeeded. 

Henry sensed a trap.  In the driving rain, it was too difficult for Henry to believe this attack had any chance of success.  Henry turned his boat around and went back to the ship, then went back to Brittany.  His caution doubtless saved his life.

Henry Stafford did not fare as well.  A reward was posted and someone turned him in.  Stafford was beheaded in a well-attended public execution.  The rebellion was over.

Margaret Beaufort was cornered.  Always the schemer, Margaret had stayed above board till now.  This time her fingerprints were all over this plot.  It was clear she had bankrolled this rebellion using her vast wealth.  Richard strongly considered executing her for treason.

Lord Stanley's odd role in the rebellion is probably what saved his wife's life.  Curiously, when Richard learned of the rebellion, Lord Stanley and his brother William answered the call immediately and remained at the King's side throughout. 

The brothers were richly rewarded from the forfeited estates of the rebels.  Lord Stanley was appointed to Buckingham’s former position as Lord High Constable of England and William Stanley was made Chief Justice of North Wales. 

No one is quite sure why Stanley remained loyal to Richard in these circumstances.  After all, months earlier Richard had killed Stanley's friend Lord Hastings and threatened to do the same to Stanley.  Considering Stanley's wife had planned this uprising, why did Stanley's loyalty lie with his king over his own wife? 

In the end, Thomas Stanley's loyalty was a huge break for Margaret.  It was only by Stanley giving a solemn vow to Richard to keep his wife in custody and put an end to her intrigues that saved her from attainder, disgrace, and quite possibly imprisonment... or worse.  Although Richard did confiscate her holdings, he turned around and gave them to her husband Stanley instead.  In other words, the money was still in the family.

Richard’s lenient response was surprising.  Considering Richard was said to be a merciless, ruthless tyrant, Margaret was in effect let off with a wrist slap.  Yes, her lands were forfeited, but as long they remained in the household, big deal.  Margaret was placed under house arrest in her husband’s care.  Stanley promised to make sure that she made no contact with her son, but this arrangement, of course, was sheer nonsense. 

Richard counted on Stanley being more loyal to him than to his own determined wife.  If he knew just how passionate Margaret was about putting her son on the throne, he should have executed her just like he did Henry Stafford.  Richard’s mercy, and perhaps naivety, would come back to haunt him.  Beheading women would have to wait for the Tudor era.

 

Death in the Royal Family

This was an age when there was great interest in the occult.  Witches were real and women were often accused of sorcery.  Anything out of the ordinary was instantly assumed to be an omen of some sort.

As omens go, Richard III had pointed to his successful suppression of the Buckingham Rebellion as clear evidence that God really did want him to be King.  But then something happened that shook Richard to his core.

Edward of Middleham was born to King Richard and Anne Neville in 1474.   Edward was created Prince of Wales in September 1483, then was formally declared heir apparent in February 1484.  Two months later the boy was dead.  Edward had been a sickly boy his entire life.  Nevertheless, the swiftness of his death was very upsetting.  There was no obvious reason. 

It was a bad omen to be sure.  Richard's enemies spread rumors saying that Edward's sudden death was divine retribution.  This was surely God's payback for Richard's alleged involvement in the evil disappearance of the sons of Edward IV, the erstwhile Princes in the Tower.  If Richard was feeling guilty about their death, this incident with his own son did not help. 

   

Anne Neville, the boy's mother, fell gravely ill only a few months after her son's death.  She died on 16 March 1485, 11 months after her child.  The official reason is listed as tuberculosis.  Others say it was a broken heart at the loss of her child.

And then of course there were the rumors.  On the day Anne died, there was a solar eclipse.  This was taken to be an omen of her husband's fall from heavenly grace.  Another rumor circulated that Richard III had poisoned his wife in order to marry his beautiful niece Elizabeth of York.  Shakespeare particularly liked this rumor.  If anyone has ever seen Richard III, Shakespeare did not waste a single chance to paint the darkest picture of Richard possible. 

The death of Richard's sad little boy put an exclamation point on a strange coincidence.  The War of the Roses had been complicated by the death of King Edward.  During his reign, three unhappy princes named Edward had died.  All three had been the Prince of Wales, all three were called Edward and all three died young before becoming King. 

The first Edward to die was Edward of Westminster, 'Joffrey' so to speak.  This Edward had died by execution following the bitter defeat at Tewkesbury in 1471.  He was 17.

The second Edward to die was Edward V, oldest son of King Edward IV.  This Edward was one of the Princes in the Tower.  He disappeared at age 12 never to be seen again.  Most historians assume Edward was murdered by his uncle Richard in pursuit of Edward V's birthright.

And now Edward of Middleham, 10, was the third Prince to die.  Upon hearing the news, Richard and Anne were seen convulsed in grief so powerful it bordered on madness. 

Not that it matters, but one hundred years earlier the Black Prince became the first Prince of Wales not to become King of England.  The Black Prince died of a mysterious lingering disease that was said to be his punishment for murdering countless French victims during the Hundred Year's War. 

Upon his death, the throne passed to his son Richard II, considered to be one of the worst kings in English history.  The reign of Richard II was so inept that he was easily overthrown in the 1399 rebellion led by Henry Bolingbroke (Henry IV).  It was this 'Crown by right of might, not law' that was said to have set the stage for the subsequent War of the Roses.  From this point on, an ounce of royal blood and a ton of cannons was all it took to be English King, a scenario played out time and again during the War of the Roses.  

By the way, does anyone remember the first name of the Black Prince? 

If memory serves, it might have been Edward. 

By the way, the Black Prince had a son named Edward.  Whatever happened to him?  Edward should have been the next king but he died at the age of five, leaving his three-year-old brother Richard II to take his place.  Weird.
 

 

The Failed Invasion

Edward IV had died of natural causes after a short illness in 1483.  His brother Richard was supposed to guard the throne till his nephew Edward V was old enough to take over.  Instead Richard took the throne for himself.  There was great anger in the land at Richard over his likely murder of two innocent, helpless boys.  This was seen as a heinous crime.

Margaret Beaufort knew this foul deed was the opening she had prayed for.  She actively promoted her son as an alternative to Richard III, despite being married to a Yorkist, Lord Stanley.  Unfortunately, her first attempt at overthrowing Richard, Buckingham's Rebellion in late 1483, had failed miserably.  Richard III claimed this was proof that God wanted him to reign supreme.  Perhaps this belief made him over-confident because he failed to execute Margaret when he had every right do do so.  That was a mistake that would come back to haunt Richard. 

Following the accession of Richard III, English privateers were continually attacking Breton ships.  With Duke Francis of Brittany fighting a prolonged illness, in his place stood Prime Minister and treasurer Pierre Landais.  Irritated by the loss of shipping, Pierre Landais initially attempted to appease Richard III, but that didn't work.

So Landais switched his support to Henry Tudor in the hope that he would overthrow Richard.  With money and supplies borrowed from his host, Francis II, Duke of Brittany, Henry had tried to land in England, but the great storm caused his rebellion to unravel.  This resulted in the 1483 execution of the Duke of Buckingham, nephew of his mother and co-conspirator of Henry. 
 

The Coming Storm

Two years had passed since Henry had escaped back to Brittany.  It was now 1485.  Unbeknownst to Henry Tudor, Richard III had agreed to some skullduggery with Pierre Landais.  Still fuming over the aborted Buckingham Rebellion, Landais strove to defend the independence of Brittany against the machinations of Louis XI, the King of France.  He opened secret negotiations with Richard III of England.  As the main threat to the rule of Richard, Henry Tudor was a powerful bargaining chip. 

Richard III offered to send 4,000 English and Welsh archers to help secure the power of Landais against the rebel Breton nobility.  In return, Landais would arrange the capture and extradition of Henry, Jasper Tudor, and the other exiled Lancastrians.  Landais readily agreed to sell them out. 

   

Landais assembled an armed force in Rennes to march to Vannes and capture all of the Lancastrians, 300 experienced soldiers in all.  At the last minute, someone leaked news of the plot to Henry... quite possibly a message from Lord Stanley.  Facing arrest and extradition to England, Henry and Jasper found two horses and fled across the nearby border into Anjou.  They crossed only hours ahead of Landais' troops.  The men left behind were captured. 

Henry had escaped his third trap.  As Henry rode towards the French Royal Court, little did he know the treachery of Pierre Landais would backfire in his favor.  Henry was welcomed by the French who viewed both Richard III and Pierre Landais as their enemy.  The French were more than happy to supply Henry with troops and equipment for a second invasion of England.  Better to have un ami, a friend, on the English throne!

Where have we heard this story before?  Indeed, back in 1471 Warwick and Margaret of Anjou had teamed up to send Edward IV into exile and place Henry VI back on the throne.  Just when Margaret of Anjou thought everything was secure, the Wheel of Fortune swung back in the York's favor when the Earl of Warwick made a serious blunder.  Warwick was pressured by the King of France to wage war against France’s enemy the Duke of Burgundy, in exchange for Marguerite of Anjou and her forces to be allowed to journey to England.  Once Warwick declared war on the Duke of Burgundy, two bad things happened. 

First, in retaliation, Burgundy decided to supply his brother-in-law Edward IV with ships, men, and money to jump-start his comeback.   Second, Margaret's delay prevented her from reinforcing Warwick at Barnet.  After Warwick's death at Barnet, Margaret was vulnerable at Tewkesbury.  Had Warwick and Margaret of Anjou been together, Edward would have never stood a chance. 

United we stand, divided we fall.

Too bad Edward had to die young.  C'est la vie.  It was now 1485 and the French were ready to meddle again. 

During his two-year reign, Richard III had made many enemies.  That included the French who were dying to strike back.  Henry was the lucky recipient.  His close call with Pierre Landais was a different kind of omen.  It suggested his mother's dream was coming to pass.  Henry was gaining support from many other corners as well.   Henry knew he had solid Lancastrian backing at home.  Indeed, the remnants of the Lancaster court were more than ready to support Henry.  Previously he had been a relatively unknown scion of the Beaufort family, but given a second chance after Buckingham's Rebellion, the Lancasters knew Henry was a bold outlaw who deserved their backing against Richard.

In addition to the much-needed backing of the French, Henry enjoyed another wonderful gift when he was reunited with John de Vere.  John de Vere, also known as the Lord of Oxford, had almost been the Lancaster hero of the 1471 Battle of Barnet, but became the goat instead.  After losing control of his men who stopped fighting to pillage the town of Barnet after routing the men of Lord Hastings, Oxford had the misfortune of being mistaken for the enemy when he and 800 men returned to the battlefront. 

Imagine how Oxford felt.  The mistaken identity was not really his fault, but many blamed him nevertheless.  His mistake had been costly.  Warwick was dead.  Margaret of Anjou was gone and her nasty son Edward was dead.  All the Lancaster men were dead and the cause had been in suspended animation for the past fourteen years.  

Life had not gone well for Oxford since.  In the years following, his lands had been confiscated.  As an outlaw, Oxford had gone to France.  He had spent over ten years fighting as a mercenary in France and studying French military tactics.  Making matters worse, Oxford had gotten himself caught.  Imprisoned at Hammes Castle near Calais, Richard had just sent the order to bring Oxford back to England for execution. 

However, before the transfer could be effected, Oxford was able to persuade Sir James Blount, captain of the prison, to change sides and oppose Richard instead.  Oxford escaped along with Blount to join Henry Tudor in Paris.  Understandably, this upset Richard no end.  The Oxford episode was indicative of the growing lack of loyalty to his regime.

Lost in the shuffle were the footprints of Lord Stanley.  A writer named Jean Molinet claims Lord Stanley worked behind the scenes to engineer the defection of the Hammes captain. 

   

Blount and Oxford immediately left Calais to reunite with Henry Tudor.  Henry was said to be "ravished with joy incredible" at this surprise.  Oxford immediately returned to Hammes Castle to liberate the garrison there.  A hundred imprisoned Lancastrians were freed to come join Henry's fight. 

Blount's defection was a good sign indeed.  It suggested Henry had a great deal of support came from the Yorkists themselves.  Richard III was a York, but he was the wrong York.  Everyone preferred the Old York over the New York.  Legions of disgruntled supporters of dead King Edward were still furious about Richard's unlawful seizure of the throne. 

Here is where Margaret's master stroke had paid off.  Thanks to the secret negotiations between Margaret and Elizabeth Woodville, the two mothers had made the deal of a lifetime.  Elizabeth's daughter, Elizabeth of York, was quite the prize.  She was not only beautiful, Elizabeth had royal blood in her. 

Indeed, at Rennes Cathedral in France on Christmas Day 1483, Henry publicly pledged to marry Elizabeth of York, the eldest daughter of Edward IV. 

Elizabeth of York was the heir of King Edward IV due to the presumed death of her brothers in the Tower.  Elizabeth served as a powerful reminder of the good old days of her father to many people.

By pledging Elizabeth, dowager queen Elizabeth Woodville's lovely daughter, to Margaret Beaufort's strapping Henry Tudor, this unusual alliance of a York Princess to a Lancaster Prince held great promise for peace. 

Now all they had to do was get rid of their unpopular king.

   
   

In 1399, Henry Bolingbroke had returned from exile to depose unpopular King Richard II. 

In 1471, Edward IV had returned from exile to reclaim his throne from the usurper Warwick. 

In 1485, it was up to Henry Tudor.  The day had come for Henry's return from exile to claim the English throne.

On August 1, Henry left Honfleur, France.  He sailed with a contingent of French mercenaries and English exiles.  The last time Henry had left France, the Wheel of Fortune had frowned.  What would happen this time?? 

Henry landed in Mill Bay, Pembrokeshire, a spot in Wales close to his birthplace.  It was the first time in 14 years since he had been on English soil.  Upon landing, Henry knelt down and whispered, ‘Judge me, Lord, and fight my cause.’

 

Jasper suggested Wales was the perfect place for invasion since it was always hostile to the English monarchy.  Indeed, Henry's Welsh parentage stood him in good stead.  Through his father Edmund Tudor, Henry was a direct descendant from Lord Rhys, a famous Welsh ruler. 

Henry's firm relationship with the popular Jasper Tudor helped as well.  Jasper was a national hero – a Welshman who had succeeded at the English court and could be counted upon to support their rights.  The Welsh were understandably sympathetic to any cause which involved this high-ranking Welshman.  Henry Tudor amassed an army of around 5,000 soldiers

Henry marched towards England accompanied by his uncle Jasper and John de Vere, the Earl of Oxford.  Richard was waiting for them in the center of the country.  Reports came to Henry that Richard was very well prepared.   Things did not look good for Henry Tudor.  Not only was he outnumbered 2 to 1, his opponent was a very experienced commander.  Henry?  He had never fought a battle.  Fortunately, he had Jasper and Lord Oxford at his side. 

The Wheel of Fortune was spinning. 

 

The Man Who Lived on the Fence

A remarkable drama took place in the days preceding the coming battle.  There was great concern over which side the Stanley brothers would fight on.  Considering Thomas Stanley was on Richard's English Council, it was assumed Lord Stanley would fight for Richard.  If this was the case, then Richard had nothing to worry about.  And yet Lord Stanley was married to Henry's mother.  Surely Henry had nothing to worry about.  But then again, Lord Stanley had fought on the side of Richard during Buckingham's Rebellion.  Surely Richard had nothing to worry about.  What was it going to be? 

The problem was that Lord Stanley and his brother William had well-deserved reputations for being sneaky.  There had been occasions when both men showed up at the battle with separate armies, but only one Stanley army fought while the other army just stood there and watched. 

Lord Stanley is a fascinating figure because he took many calculated risks throughout the entire 32-year War of the Roses, yet emerged completely unscathed.  If someone wished to bypass the romantic mush of the Red Queen and the White Queen sagas, they could just as easily tell the entire story of the War of the Roses through the eyes of Thomas Lord Stanley. 

   

The War of the Roses can be divided into three parts... Richard Duke of York, Warwick's Betrayal, and Richard III

To understand Thomas Stanley, one needs to understand the close relationship of the Neville family to the York family. 

Joan Beaufort was the daughter of John of Gaunt (who else?).  Joan's son Richard Neville, the Earl of Salisbury, could trace his lineage straight to King Edward III.  Richard Neville became the Earl of Salisbury. 

Joan Beaufort's daughter Cicely Neville married Richard, Duke of York.  She too could trace her lineage to Edward III. 

Richard of York and Richard of Salisbury were not only brother-in-laws, they were best friends. 

Once Thomas Stanley married Eleanor Neville, he became part of the Neville family.  This marriage made Stanley brother-in-law to Richard, Earl of Warwick... the Kingmaker.

   

15th Century Medieval England was a period similar to America's Wild West.  Just as the Wild West cattle barons squared off with complete disregard for the law, wealthy landowners in England also squared off with little regard for the law.  Richard Neville, the Earl of Salisbury, was a very powerful man who had a long-standing grudge with the neighboring Percy family.  1453 was the year Henry VI descended into madness.  Simultaneously Henry Percy tried to ambush the Salisbury family on their way to a wedding.  Although Salisbury's group emerged intact, the rivalry was reignited. 

At this same time, Richard of York was having his issues with Edmund Beaufort, the dandy of Margaret of Anjou and the father of two illegitimate sons related to our story. 

Two years passed and suddenly the King woke up from catatonia.  Now all hell broke loose.  Richard of Salisbury and Richard of York decided to team up and confront the Beaufort-Percy combination at the 1455 Battle of St. Albans, the English version of OK Corral.  The York-Neville team won handily and killed Edmund Beaufort in the process, thereby guaranteeing a Round II... and III... and IV... and....

The Cold War of the Roses had just gone Hot. 

Thomas Stanley had grown up in a family loyal to Henry VI and the house of Lancaster.  However, in 1457 Thomas formed an alliance with the powerful Neville family by marrying Eleanor Neville, daughter of Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury.  This marriage marked the start of Stanley's long acquaintance with Salisbury's son Richard Neville, better known as Warwick, the man who would come to be known as the Kingmaker.  As we remember, Warwick was not only the man who put Edward IV on the throne, he was also the man who took Edward off the throne.  Hence the nickname.  

So here we have Lord Stanley, a Lancaster, developing a potential alliance with the leading members of the House of York.  This 1457 marriage to Lady Eleanor meant Thomas had one foot in the door of the York-Neville alliance and one foot in service to the crown.  Interesting, yes??  What makes it even more interesting is that marrying Eleanor put Stanley in the thick of things, something he had to know. 

Lord Stanley minded his own business as long as could, but two years later the War of the Roses paid a visit to Stanley's back yard.  In 1459 Stanley got news that Queen Margaret of Anjou was recruiting heavily in Cheshire, his home base.  Stanley knew he could not ignore the civil war much longer.

Making matters worse, Stanley's father had just died, making Stanley the new head of the family.  As far as Margaret of Anjou was concerned, the Stanleys had always been loyal to the crown.  So naturally the Queen came calling to ask for Stanley's pledge of men.  Stanley said he would send men.   

Meanwhile, the Yorkists under Salisbury, father to Warwick, were mobilizing to neutralize the threat.  Entering Cheshire, naturally they sought assistance from Stanley, Salisbury's son-in-law, Warwick's brother-in-law.  Stanley said he would send men. 

What a way to begin one's new role as head of the family!  Caught between a rock and a hard spot, Stanley was faced with quite a dilemma.  Shortly Stanley got news of a major fight.

Salisbury was commanding the Yorks.  He had just managed to elude the warrior Queen when he was intercepted by Lord Audley's army at Blore Heath, a location about 30 miles down the country road from Lord Stanley's estate in Cheshire.  The battle started as a trap to catch York forces on the move.  Sure enough, the Yorks walked right into it and suddenly found themselves outnumbered 10,000 to 5,000 (the Yorks were seemingly outnumbered by the Lancasters in practically every battle). 

Although Salisbury was outnumbered, through a series of feints using a small stream that divided the armies, he provoked the Lancasters into attacking him.  Salisbury's counter-attack proved deadly.

And what about Lord Stanley?  The Royal army under Margaret of Anjou expected support from Stanley, but didn’t get it.  Although Lord Stanley claimed to be a loyal royal, he never actually joined Queen Margaret's army.  Furthermore Warwick and Salisbury expected Stanley would come to their rescue.  Indeed, Stanley showed up, but then he failed to participate.  Warwick was flabbergasted.

Through audacious brinkmanship, the young lord faked the entry of his army into the battle, then suddenly stopped just a mile away.  Lord Stanley sat on the sideline with 2,000 men and watched. 

Meanwhile Sir William Stanley, his younger brother, did actually fight for the Yorkists at Blore Heath.  William Stanley paid a stiff price as he would later be attainted for his participation by the Queen.

In the immediate aftermath of the battle, Lord Stanley had the nerve to ride up and congratulate Salisbury on his splendid escape from the trap.  However, just when Stanley came close to committing himself further, he decided to withdraw his forces back into Cheshire.  Salisbury stood there perplexed. 

This was the start of the Stanley legend.  No one could figure Lord Stanley out.  Why did he sit out that battle?  After all, at the time, his brother-in-law was Warwick the Kingmaker, leader of the Yorks.

After the battle Lord Stanley wrote to the Queen to offer his apologies and offer excuses for why he had not seen fit to commit his men to battle.  Margaret of Anjou could not have been too convinced by his explanations.  Nevertheless when Parliament petitioned for his attainder later that year they were not successful because Margaret intervened.  During the fluctuations of the Wars of the Roses she needed all the friends she could get, including unreliable, slippery Lord Stanley. 

This was a close call.  The wrong move here could have meant disaster for the House of Stanley. Lord Stanley's sympathies were 'York', but Stanley did not wish to show his true colors till he was more certain.  This set the pattern for Lord Stanley's career, a man always reticent to commit. 

One year later, the Yorkists had possession of the King and ruled in his name. Now Lord Stanley decided it was safe to begin cooperating with the Yorkist lords, but only when it suited him.  Stanley made sure to stay away from the particularly bloody battles of Wakefield (where both Salisbury and the Duke of York, father and son, were killed) and Towton (where York's eldest son Edward defeated the Lancastrians and had himself crowned as Edward IV).

Although Stanley got no credit for his lack of participation, he proved valuable to new king Edward by aiding his brother-in-law, the Earl of Warwick, in mopping up the remaining Lancastrians.  Stanley played a major part in the capture of Henry VI (1465) in the Stanley stronghold of Lancashire.  For his service, Stanley acquired several new estates in the process.  For the time being, Stanley was a York. 

In 1469, a crisis emerged.  Warwick changed sides!!   Dramatic shifts between 1469 and 1471 made the political landscape treacherous.  Warwick's decision to switch to the Lancasters affected Lord Stanley more than anyone.  In 1469, Warwick did his best to secure Stanley's support against Edward, but Stanley was non-committal.  Consequently Warwick's first try to eliminate Edward failed.  Although Edward was captured, it didn't do any good.  Then Edward kicked Warwick over to France.  Now Warwick made his alliance with Margaret of Anjou.  Upon Warwick's return to England, Stanley still refused to fight, but nevertheless lent him armed support in the restoration of Lancaster King Henry VI.  Edward was unseated and made a fugitive.  Edward ran to Burgundy for safety. 

Stanley was firmly on the Lancaster side now.  Or was he?  When Edward began his amazing 1471 comeback, Lord Stanley disappointed Warwick by refusing to help stop the returning Edward.   Nevertheless, Stanley promised not to help Edward either.  To all outward appearances it seemed as though Lord Stanley had thrown his lot in with the Lancastrian cause, but as usual looks were deceiving.  Thomas secretly sent his brother William to Edward IV’s side when he landed at Ravenspur to reclaim his throne.  As for himself, Thomas refused to fight.

 

Think about it.  If Warwick won at Barnet, Stanley could point to the men he had given Warwick in 1470 to unseat Edward.  If Edward won, Stanley could point to his 'regret' and 'change of heart' by deciding to sit out the Battle of Barnet and then Tewkesbury.  Very clever.

Stanley's strategy worked like a charm.  Following Edward's comeback victory at Barnet and the rout at Tewkesbury, Edward forgave Lord Stanley for his earlier disloyalty on the grounds that Stanley had stayed neutral the second time around. 

Lady Eleanor's death in 1471 was a sad event which nonetheless led to Margaret Beaufort's invitation to marry.  Stanley recalled how his marriage to Eleanor had opened the door to his relationship with the Yorks.  Perhaps a similar marriage could open other doors back to the Lancasters.  Lord Stanley, the undisputed master of moving forward by sitting still, could not resist.  His marriage to Margaret would allow him to stay firmly in the middle of any ensuing problems.  Lord Stanley was fairly brilliant in this way. 

And what about William Stanley?  Stanley's younger brother William had not only fought during the Battle of Blore Heath, he would do so again in several other 1460-1461 encounters.  William repeated this role during the 1469-1471 flare-up.  Seemingly by design, it fell to William to take the heat off his older brother, the family leader.  William accepted it was his job to fly the family colors, losing some, winning some, always staying alive to fight another battle.  William might get attainted, but since Thomas held most of the family's estates in his name, William's losses ensured that his big brother never lost anything. 

There was amazing teamwork between the two brothers.  William was willing to take risks knowing in the end that the House of Stanley always came out ahead.  This sublimation stood in stark contrast to the destructive squabbling between the three York brothers.  George and Richard constantly argued over who got which Neville girl and each attainted estate by playing Edward against the other.  Edward, always the appeaser, did himself no favors by indulging these two brats.  Meanwhile, William willingly accepted his role as the 'Designated Loser' for the good of the family.  Thomas always made sure his younger brother was 'compensated' in one way or another.  As much as any family in England, the Stanleys benefitted during these turbulent times by playing both sides of the fence.

   

Lord Hastings Revisited

   

Thomas Stanley had dodged a bullet in 1483.  His close call took place shortly after Richard had imprisoned the Princes in the Tower.  Their mother Elizabeth Woodville had fled into sanctuary at Westminster.  Now there were repeated rumors of plots and conspiracies being orchestrated by Edward's widow.

Richard was extremely paranoid that someone would take a stand against his strong-arm tactics with the two boys.  His fears caused him to erupt on Friday, June 13, 1483.  William Hastings walked into what he thought was a routine council meeting called by Richard, Duke of Gloucester. 

Hastings was suddenly seized by armed men.  Richard began screaming at him, accusing the older man of plotting with the Woodvilles behind Richard's back.  No trial by peers was offered.  No proof was offered.  No witnesses were called.  The existence of the plot was upon Richard's say-so alone.

Richard condemned Hastings to death.  When Hastings left the chamber a few hours later, it was as a prisoner being hustled out to execution.  His death on Tower Green was such a hasty affair that no scaffold had been erected.

Lost in the drama was a curious fact.  Lord Hastings was not the only council member arrested.  In fact, several of the noblemen in attendance were arrested.  One of them was Lord Stanley who was roughed up pretty badly in the ensuing scuffle.  Stanley was briefly imprisoned, but later released.

Based on what we know, who was more likely to be treacherous... Hastings or Stanley?  Lord Hastings was the man who warned Richard to seize the boys and take action against Elizabeth Woodville in the first place.  Lord Stanley was a known snake in the grass.  And yet Lord Hastings was beheaded on the spot while Stanley was set free.  So why did Hastings die and Stanley live?

The answer is very simple.  Lord Stanley made it a point to use his vast fortune to keep a large, well-armed army at his disposal back in Cheshire.  Call it an 'insurance policy'.  Richard knew Stanley's son George, Lord Strange, could quickly mobilize this army in northwest England.  In addition, brother William had his own army as well.  Supreme in the Midlands countryside around Shrewsbury south of Lancaster, the Stanleys had become the most powerful family in England.  And Richard knew it. 

 

There is little doubt Richard III feared Lord Stanley more than anyone.  Sensing Richard's fear, in the days to follow, Stanley played Richard like a fiddle.  Keeping his cards close to his vest, Stanley kept Richard guessing.

On the one hand, Lord Stanley's weird move to marry Margaret Beaufort, the Lancaster matron, just added to the confusion.  On the other hand, despite his odd choice of marital partner, Stanley had never done a single thing to make King Edward IV suspect Stanley's loyalty to the Yorks in any way during the twelve years of peace. 

After Edward's death in 1483, Lord Stanley had been the first man to congratulate Richard.  Then came the master stroke... after Richard had threatened Stanley's life with false (??) accusations, Stanley forgave Richard.  "No harm done, lad.

Two weeks later, guess who carried the great mace at Richard's coronation? 

Then, just to further prove his loyalty to Richard, Stanley actually fought at the side of King Richard during Buckingham's ill-fated Rebellion.  Joining Lord Stanley in the battle was his younger brother William Stanley. 

"See, Richard, you have nothing to worry about.  The House of Stanley is firmly in your corner!"

Richard's fears were allayed, at least somewhat.  Now Richard tried to buy the Stanleys off.  After the rebellion was over, Thomas and William Stanley were richly rewarded from the forfeited estates of the dead rebels.  Thomas Stanley had performed so well he was appointed to Buckingham’s position as Lord High Constable of England.  Sir William was made Chief Justice of North Wales and was given land as well.

   

As always, Lord Stanley had made the right move.  He had converted Richard's paranoia into vast new estates and position. 

There has long been speculation why Stanley sided with Richard in the Rebellion and not his own wife.  Here is one possible reason:

"Richard was with the Earl of Northumberland and Thomas, Lord Stanley, when he got word of the rebellion.  Richard did not really trust either man as in the past they seemed to support Lancastrian causes in the past.

Northumberland (Henry Percy) had proved to be difficult during the years when Richard was Lord of the North. The Late King Edward had to send Northumberland orders, as he would not obey Richard.

The same could have been said about Stanley.  He spent most of the time in whichever camp benefited him the most.  Richard kept him under close eye as trouble and Stanley was always close at hand.  Richard was reminded of Stanley’s wife, as he had heard that Henry Tudor was playing a major role in the Buckingham rebellion.   (Source)
 

In the weeks to follow something deeply unsettling came to light.  After the dust had cleared, Richard III made a remarkable discovery... Thomas Stanley's wife Margaret Beaufort had been largely responsible for organizing and funding the operation.  Now Richard was very confused.  Thomas Stanley had fought hard for him and yet Stanley's wife Margaret Beaufort was a key conspirator in the rebellion.  Whose side was Stanley on? 

Lord Stanley was asked to explain.  Stanley replied to Richard that his wife's affairs were unknown to him.  If Stanley had known, he would have told her to knock it off.  Besides, did Richard not see how hard Stanley had worked to put down the rebellion?  What further proof of his innocence... and ignorance of his wife's moves... did Richard need? 

Richard was really confused.  What should he do about Margaret?   Under normal circumstances, Margaret would have been executed or imprisoned.  But Richard did neither.  With visions of that standing army in Cheshire, Richard decided to take Stanley's word.  Such was the strength of Thomas Stanley that Richard let Margaret off with a wrist slap rather than antagonize her powerful husband.

Lest we forget, Richard did something unusual... Richard handed all of Margaret's estate to Thomas.  Lord Stanley now owned his wife's entire estate.  However, there was a catch.  Upon Stanley's death, Margaret's estate would revert to the crown.

   


   

Rick Archer's Note: 

Doesn't this story strike the Reader as a bit odd? 

Here is a woman, Margaret, who has just committed treason and Richard has undeniable proof of her complicity.  Previously, Richard put Lord Hastings to death for less evidence than he had here.  In addition, Richard has just finished beheading Buckingham.  But Richard treats Margaret differently for the same crime.  Richard never even speaks to Margaret, the real instigator.  Instead he speaks to Thomas Stanley and tells him all his wife has to do is promise not to do it again, then go home and sit in the corner.  While she's at it, maybe pray a little and repent.

The thing to understand in my long saga is that I originally set out to write a brief overview of English history.  Hence the title "Brevity and Brexity".  As it turned out, I spent a month and a half researching and writing this story.  So much for Brevity.

I invested my time because I began to see more clearly how History is written.  Things happen, but since very few accounts exist, everything becomes wide open to interpretation.  In particular, the 'Winner' gets their version accepted as the undisputed 'Truth' of what took place.  The Winner picks someone to write a favorable story or the Winner makes sure that unfavorable documents disappear... or both. 

The secret of interpreting History is to put oneself in the place of the actor and imagine what must have passed through their minds.  On a personal note, as one has surely guessed, Lord Stanley definitely caught my eye. 

The story of 'Margaret's punishment' seemed so absurd that I gave it a lot of thought.  My problem is that write each story based on web sites that usually just scratch the surface.  Based on what I read, I initially thought this estate-transfer/house arrest solution was Richard's idea.  But then I began to wonder.  That is when it crossed my mind that maybe this solution was Stanley's idea.  So here is my interpretation of how the scenario might read if Stanley took control of the situation.

 

Richard:  "Lord Stanley, you were invaluable to me in putting down the rebellion.  How do you suggest I handle this matter of your treasonous wife??"

"Sire, I ask you to spare her.  She is but a silly woman who let her fever for her son cloud her judgment.  I suggest you place her under my control.  Strip Margaret of her estate and give it to me.  Without money, she can do little damage. 

I will oversee the lands myself.  And when I die, let Margaret's estate revert to the crown.  I will order Margaret to stay close by, a form of house arrest.  She is not to leave my home without supervision.  You will have nothing more to worry about, this I pledge."

In other words, stripping Margaret of her estate may not have been Richard's idea, but rather her husband's idea.  By betraying Margaret... for whatever reason... during the Rebellion, suddenly Stanley had acquired Margaret's vast estate for himself.  And what if something were to happen to Richard??   Gee, too bad, then after Richard was gone, Stanley could petition the next king to either let him keep it all or give it back to Margaret.  Either way, Stanley had made a shrewd bargain.  Better to keep the lands and titles in the family than give it to Richard. 

But how would Margaret react?  After all, Lord Stanley, master manipulator, had gotten his wife declared a traitor and placed in his care under house arrest, with all of her lands and fortune forfeit unto him.  Margaret had to be incredulous. 

Wouldn't it be fascinating to be a fly on the wall when Margaret learned the news?  Let's fantasize how the dialogue might go.

“On the graves of my ancestors, I swear, Stanley, you have robbed me!  Did you betray me just to get my fortune?”

"Calm down, Margaret.  I have not betrayed you.  I was stuck at the side of the King when the fighting broke out.  He never let me out of his sight.  Thanks to all that flooding, I could already see that Buckingham's uprising did not have a ghost of a chance to succeed.  There were reports that his own men had deserted him.  I was not about to throw everything we have worked for away on this failed scheme.  There's an old saying, 'Better to live and fight another day'.  So, yes, I fought for Richard and so did my brother.  What choice did I have?  Buckingham was a lost cause.

Now, as for the deal I struck, when the discussion began, Richard was so angry he was about to sever your head from your shoulders.  Then he discussed a certain cold dungeon with unusually meager rations and thin blankets.  In addition, you were about to be attainted.  Richard was completely within his right to remove your entire estate.  Who would you rather have in control of your estate, Richard or me?

But I talked him out of it.  I not only saved your life, I saved your estate.  Your holdings are quite safe with me.  All we have to do is remove Richard and your son will be able to restore your lands to you."


Please keep in mind that I have just made up History.  I have no idea whether this conversation took place or what was said.  But if we look at history from Stanley's point of view, my scenario makes sense.

If this conversation did take place, was Stanley telling the truth?  Who can say with this guy?  But his argument was compelling enough for Margaret to buy his story.  Plus, what other choice did she have?  Stanley now owned all of Margaret's lands.

If there was to be a coming battle and Henry won, Margaret's lands would be safe AND Stanley would be rewarded.  So Margaret's fears were allayed when she realized it was completely in Stanley's interest to help Henry win.

However, if Richard won the coming battle, Stanley was in big trouble... unless Stanley could find a way not to oppose Richard.  Stanley had to find a way to help Henry and stay neutral at the same time.  Now how does someone do that?  I guess we will find out when the time comes.

It was now 1485.  Two years had passed since Buckingham's Rebellion.  Henry Tudor was coming for Richard.  The support of Thomas and William Stanley were critical to the king.  Would Richard be able to count on these men again like he had during the rebellion of 1483?  Richard was desperate to find out.  Richard was about to discover exactly what he feared the most... Lord Stanley was sitting on the fence. 

 

Defections

   

What a shame Richard's immense talent had to go to waste.  If one can disregard Richard's ruthlessness, then he should be admired for his courage and intelligence.  As a mere teenager, he helped his brother Edward regain his crown.  Richard's attack at the Battle of Barnet won the day against far older and more experienced opponents.  Weeks later, Richard's defense at Tewkesbury won the day by thwarting the Duke of Somerset's surprise attack.

Ever since Henry Tudor's escape during Buckingham's Rebellion, Richard had known this showdown would come.  Well aware that Henry Tudor would be sailing soon, Richard had been clever.  Since Richard was uncertain where Henry would land, he posted his men in the epicenter of England.  His men were 100 miles from all the likely landing spots, a three-day horse ride. 

Richard's strategy was to let the local commander keep Henry occupied long enough for Richard's reinforcements to race to the spot.  A landing party would not have enough time to unload their ships and gain a foothold on English soil.  Richard's counter-attack would destroy the vulnerable invasion force. 

   

Interestingly, German General Erwin Rommel expected to use this same strategy when preparing his D-Day defenses.  Unsure where the Allies would land, Rommel kept a crack Panzer tank unit on the Belgium-French border so it could race to whatever point the Allies landed and decimate the attack while the men were still pinned down on the beach.

Rommel's strategy may very well have worked except for one thing.... Rommel needed Hitler's permission to release the tanks. Unfortunately, Hitler had put a 'do not disturb' sign up for the night.  No one dared knock and the Panzer tanks never moved.

Let me say this again... for all his faults, Richard was not stupid.  Richard knew full well that Jasper would likely encourage Henry to land in Wales.  It made perfect sense.  However Richard was not going to bet the house and fully commit to one landing spot.  Jasper's spies would warn Henry if something was amiss and Henry would land elsewhere.  So Richard did the next best thing... he shored up his support by handing out lands, titles, and offices to men who had shown loyalty to him in the past.  Finally Richard felt secure because he had extensive control over south Wales. 

   

Richard's strategy should have worked, but it didn't.  Early in August, Richard was alarmed to find that Henry's forces were moving through Wales unopposed.  Richard turned white with fear and anger.  Just how exactly did this come to pass? 

Mill Bay had been chosen as a landing point because it was completely hidden from view.  No resistance was given by the cohort of Richard's men stationed at Dale where Henry and his men spent the first night.  They completely failed to keep the invader at bay by the bay. 

In the morning Henry marched to Haverfordwest, the county town of Pembrokeshire.  His men were received "with the utmost goodwill of all".  Welshman Arnold Butler met Henry in Brittany and announced that "the whole of Pembrokeshire is prepared to serve him!"

Richard's lieutenant in South Wales, Sir Walter Herbert, failed to move against Henry.  Two of Herbert's officers, Richard Griffith and Evan Morgan, deserted to Henry with their men.  The next man to face Henry was Rhys ap Thomas, the leading figure in West Wales. 

Richard had appointed Rhys Lieutenant in West Wales for his refusal to join Buckingham's rebellion.  Did Rhys ap Thomas stop Henry?  No, he defected to Henry's side and brought with him many men. 

So far, Henry had been greeted warmly at every stop he made.  Henry was seen as the great Welsh champion.  The importance of Henry's Welsh blood and ancestry should not be underestimated.  Welsh support would prove critical to Henry.

So far, every single man in Wales that Richard had rewarded  for their loyalty had welcomed the invasion force with hugs and kisses.  Richard had just been given his first hint things weren't exactly working out as planned. 

   

Geography

There is a very cynical saying that War is God's way of teaching people Geography.  So let's use the War of the Roses to learn a little bit about Great Britain's geography. 

Off the top of your head, what do you suppose Wales and Scotland have that England doesn't have?  C'mon, this shouldn't be too hard to guess.  (Hint: It's big.)

Next question.  What did the Romans leave behind that the English found particularly useful?

Next question.  Here in America, what place is called the Gateway to the West? 

Next question.  What place in England is known as the Gateway to the Midlands?  (Hint: unless you are from Great Britain, you are not expected to know this answer.)

Next question:  Given what you know about the Gateway to the West, what do you suppose the Gateway to the West and the Gateway to the Midlands have in common??

Last question: What geographical feature doomed Margaret of Anjou at the Battle of Tewkesbury?  (Hint: it's on this map.)

Quit your bellyaching.  Hey, I gave you a map!  Figure it out.

   

Over My Belly

So what Big Thing do Wales and Scotland have that England doesn't?   Both Wales and Scotland are extremely mountainous while England is relatively flat.  Over the centuries, the Welsh and the Scots have used those mountains as defensive barriers to keep the English out.  As we look at the map, we see the only routes into Wales are valleys formed by the rivers... unless of course someone cheats and attacks using the sea. 

By now, we also have a pretty good idea who won the looming battle.  This, of course, takes away much of the suspense.  But Henry and Richard had no idea of the outcome.  They were both on pins and needles.  Richard was upset that Wales had welcomed Richard with open arms, but he was not entirely surprised.  After all, Wales was Henry's turf. 

Okay, so Wales had not panned out, but Richard had another ace up his sleeve.  Pretty soon Henry would be on Richard's turf.  Let's see what happens then.

Henry had a lot on his mind.  Richard's army was bound to be much larger, better equipped, and better prepared.  Richard knew the territory well and would surely stake out the finest ground to mount his defense.  As Henry's army trudged north, they used an ancient Roman road that cut through the mountains using a valley formed by the Severn, England's longest river.

   

Once Henry's army left the mountains of Wales, they continued along the Roman road until they came to Shrewsbury, the traditional gateway to the English midlands.  In a manner similar to America's St. Louis, Shrewsbury was very important because it had the only bridge across the mighty Severn River for miles and miles.  Henry was about to learn the hard way that the English attitude towards his invasion was much cooler than the rabid Welsh. 

Shrewsbury was Richard's ace in the hole.  It had two bailiffs, Roger Knight and Thomas Mitton who had been in power for about two decades.  Both men had prospered under Richard III, most notably from the failure of Buckingham’s Rebellion.  Mitton had not only received Buckingham’s castle, Shrewsbury’s tax bill was significantly reduced, making Mitton very popular.  Mitton fully expected to be rewarded for standing up to Henry.  Another castle perhaps??

Richard had given Mitton the perfect excuse to deny entry.  Richard had scared the wits out of the countryside people by warning that Henry's foreigners would rape and pillage in revenge for what the Black Prince had done to the French a hundred years earlier.  The people of Shrewsbury had no desire to see Henry's French mercenaries come in and plunder their town.  Therefore, when Henry requested permission to march through the streets, Mitton made an odd reply – “over my belly!” – which we can assume is another way of saying 'over my dead body'.

   

Henry could not afford to go around the city thanks to the ever-swollen Severn River.  Nor did he wish to engage in a fight.  Henry was engaged in a public relations battle almost as fierce as the coming fight. 

Richard had painted a dark picture of Henry as a desperate outlaw who had no money to pay his troops.  Richard said Henry had promised his men that they could murder and take what they wanted in repayment.  Henry could not afford to attack these people of Shrewsbury lest rumors of his aggressiveness spread. 

So Henry retreated.  At a nearby village, he composed a letter to the bailiffs, promising that his men would simply march through Shrewsbury peacefully and cause no damage or harm.  He respected the oath of loyalty to Richard III and did not expect any of the townspeople to break it. The letter accomplished little.  Mitton still said no and repeated his phrase 'over my belly!'

Henry was in serious trouble.  If he couldn't get past Shrewsbury, his entire campaign would come to a total stand-still.  Then to his surprise, the gates came open.  Henry barely believed his eyes. 

The arrival of Rowland Warburton had made a huge difference.  Warburton persuaded the bailiffs to let Henry pass.  And who was Rowland Warburton?  He was a guy who lived at Blore Heath. 

Blore Heath... where have we heard that name before?  As it turned out, Shrewsbury was 20 miles south of Blore Heath, one of the famous battle sites during the War of Roses. 

   

And who exactly was Rowland Warburton?  He worked for Chief Justice of North Wales, a man who just happened to live near Blore Heath.  The Chief Justice of North Wales had ordered the gates to the town come open. 

And who exactly was the Chief Justice of North Wales?

None other than Sir William Stanley, Richard's carefully-chosen appointee as Chief Justice of North Wales.  Yes, indeed, William Stanley was Richard III’s chief lieutenant in this area.  Other than John Howard, the Duke of Norfolk, no single man in the kingdom had received more land and power than William Stanley.  Richard was counting on William Stanley to stop Henry at the Severn and contain him so the king's army could come and finish the invasion off.  Surely Richard's well-rewarded commander would hold the line. 

Nope.  Henry received an invitation to visit William at his manor.  Henry was served tea and crumpets with an offer of perhaps a friendly cricket match out on the lawn.  Rumors have it that William and Henry had a pow-wow in the process.

Yes, the English citizens were afraid of Henry and his terrible reputation, but in this part of the world, the Stanley name was all-powerful.  The Stanley name was impressive enough to sway even John Mitton who no doubt saw his hopes for a new castle go up in smoke. 

Interestingly, John Mitton was a man who had a well-known reputation for always keeping his word, a very good thing to have in politics.  As Henry crossed the bridge, John Mitton made a point to lay down on the ground.  To much fanfare and hilarity, Henry politely stepped over the man's belly, thereby allowing Mitton to keep his oath.  We now see why Mitton didn't say 'over my dead body'.  Smart man. 

Henry was relieved to pass through, but shaken to realize that his support among the non-Welsh populace was not widespread.  Indeed, the lesson of Shrewsbury was repeated in next town he marched through.  Since the average citizen did not recognize his claim to the throne, Henry had little to celebrate.  This campaign was shaping up as another 'Buckingham Rebellion'... a reckless, seat of the pants, make-it-up-as-you-go-along operation observed by a lukewarm, apathetic citizenry that preferred to sit this one out.

Henry was very worried. 

   

Loyalty and Betrayal

When the news that Henry had crossed the Severn River reached Richard, he knew that William Stanley had betrayed him.  Richard was consumed with bitterness at trusting the man.  Now Henry was only 50 miles away.  To hell with William Henry.  William Henry was a pipsqueak.  It was his brother Thomas Stanley that Richard was worried about.  Richard was surely doomed if Lord Stanley opposed him.  Lord Stanley had been invaluable in putting down the Buckingham Rebellion.  But could Richard count on Stanley again??

One month earlier, an unsettling event had taken place.  In July 1485, about three weeks before Henry Tudor landed, Thomas Stanley had sought permission to leave the court and return to his northern estate of Lathom in Lancashire.  Stanley said he was going to visit a relative.  The king was no fool; Richard allowed Stanley to leave London but asked that George, Stanley's son and heir, remain behind.

Richard made his request very politely... 'Lord Stanley, we need your son to stay behind to fill your place on the Council'.   But everyone understood that George Stanley, 25, was being kept as a hostage to ensure Thomas Stanley's continued loyalty. 

Now as Henry moved through the English countryside, Richard had not seen Thomas Stanley in over a month.  Considering William Stanley had just betrayed him, Richard must not have been feeling too sure about Thomas Stanley either.  Nevertheless, Richard reassured himself that George, also known as Lord Strange (no, I am not making this up), remained in his household to assure his father’s good behavior.  Surely no father on earth would risk his son's life to betray his king.

Let us ask what might be going through Lord Stanley's mind as the two armies grew closer.  Thomas Stanley had a decision to make.

Lord Stanley had gained a reputation of remaining neutral and not supporting any particular side in a battle until he was absolutely positive which side would win. Even then, the chances of him involving his army were, to an extent, unlikely. Though this strategy does not seem to an honorable one, it gained the Stanley family more friends than enemies.  Lord Stanley had shown he was master of taking advantage of any sort of situation. 

Is it possible to grow stronger by sitting idle??  Thanks in large part to Stanley's odd fence-straddle strategy, Stanley had the largest private army in England after the King himself.  And why was that?  There had been 30 years of fighting.  All the great Houses of the land had been decimated by the civil war... House of Neville, House of Beaufort, House of Percy, House of Stafford, House of Howard, and House of York. 

Did you notice the similarity to the Game of Thrones?  House Stark, House Arryn, House Harrenhal, House Lannister, House Durrandon, House Gardener, House Martell.  But Game of Thrones had seven houses and the War of the Roses only had six.  Or did I miss someone?  Hmm.  Maybe the Reader can help me.  Can you think of a Seventh House? 

As it turns out, yes, there were Seven Houses in the War of the Roses, but one of the Houses had never known serious losses... because it never fought. 

The House of Stanley was virtually intact since the start of the Wars.  Lord Stanley enjoyed huge popularity at home because he never risked his men's lives unnecessarily and he kept his homeland out of the fighting unless it was obvious he could win with little risk.  When it came to 'Loyalty', as leaders go, one could imagine Lord Stanley enjoyed the most popularity of any leader in the country.  Unlike Richard, Stanley's men stood firmly behind him because they knew he was the smartest Lord of all. 

With leadership comes responsibility.  Lord Stanley had a choice between King Richard and a young man who just happened to be the son of his wife.  One would imagine the temptation to support his wife and his stepson would be strong.  But Stanley had other factors to consider.  For example, which of the two men, Richard or Henry, would be the best leader for the country? 

What is interesting about Stanley is he might actually think in terms larger than simply his own personal gain.  If it came down to what would benefit him personally, no doubt the greatest gain would be to have a stepson as king.  On the other hand, Stanley had never met Henry.  His only knowledge of the boy had come from his association with the lad's mother.  In this case, one has to recall Stanley's curious decision to back Richard over his wife during Buckingham's Rebellion, a decision which baffled many. 

Right now the life of Stanley's son George was at stake.  Stanley was forced to deal with this implicit threat to his son's life.  There is a difference between serving a man out of loyalty and serving a man out of threat.  Loyalty is difficult to give when there is a sword pointed at one's child.  Compliance, perhaps, but not loyalty.  This was not the first time Richard had threatened Stanley.  No doubt Stanley still remembered the day two years earlier when Richard had his men seize Stanley and accuse him of plotting against him (the Hastings situation).  That was the kind of memory that does not tend to fade away.   

So, yes, Stanley obeyed Richard out of necessity, but it would be difficult to imagine Stanley felt any loyalty to Richard, especially not after seeing the head of his colleague Lord Hastings roll without need.  As much as anyone in the kingdom, Stanley had witnessed first-hand how Richard had usurped the crown with cold-blooded assassinations and lies about the legitimacy of Edward's children.  One can imagine Lord Stanley felt little respect for King Richard. 

If I may offer my own observation, I doubt seriously Lord Stanley was on the fence as the battle brewed.  I base my decision on several factors.  The main fact is that if Richard won, all of Margaret's lands would stay with Richard upon Lord Stanley's death.  Stanley would rather keep those lands in the family.  Therefore it was very much to Stanley's advantage to back Henry... but not show his hand in the process.

  There was a report that suggested Lord Stanley was the man who tipped off Henry there was a plot against him in Brittany.

  There was a report that hinted Lord Stanley had helped convince Sir James Blount, captain of the Hammes prison in Calais, to oppose Richard and set Lord Oxford free at Hammes prison.  After Blount changed sides, Lord Oxford escaped to join Henry Tudor in Paris.  Understandably, this upset Richard no end.  To begin with, the Oxford incident was indicative of the growing lack of loyalty to his regime.  But even more important was that Henry finally had an experienced general to lead his army.  

 When Richard received reports early in August that Henry Tudor had crossed the corner of North Wales unmolested, he knew for a fact that William Stanley had betrayed him.  Indeed, by opening the door at Shrewsbury, Sir William had effectively cleared the path for Henry Tudor to continue his invasion.  Knowing the Stanley brothers' penchant for teamwork, it is unlikely William would have done so without his older brother's approval. 

 In the week prior, Lord Stanley disobeyed a direct order from Richard to bring men to join him on the battlefield.  Instead Stanley claimed 'illness'.  Poor Stanley, he was too unwell to answer his King’s summons.  This meant Stanley would not bivouac with Richard's army.  However, Stanley did promise to meet Richard on the battlefield. 

 One week prior to the battle, Lord Strange tried to escape from Richard, but was caught.  No doubt Lord Strange knew his father’s intentions were to back Henry.  If that was the case, then Strange must have known his own life was likely forfeit.  His actions suggest Strange was scared for his life and wanted to save his own neck.  Under pressure, Lord Strange admitted that both he and Sir William had been plotting with Henry Tudor.  However, Lord Strange swore he had no idea what his father intended to do.


Lord Strange was probably telling the truth.  No one ever knew for sure what Lord Stanley was thinking.  My guess is that Lord Stanley had one more question to ask before he made up his mind... what kind of king would Henry Tudor make? 

Lord Stanley had asked his brother William to conduct an initial interview at Stafford.  Apparently Henry passed his first audition since he was granted a follow-up interview with both William and his brother, Lord Thomas Stanley.  This took place at Thomas Stanley's camp in Atherstone two days before the big battle. Richard's army camped atop a large hill near the town of Bosworth.  Atherstone lay six miles to the southwest.

Oddly enough, after the interview Henry still wasn't sure where he stood.  Legend has it that Lord Stanley assured his stepson of eventual support.  Of course, we all know promises can be easily broken, especially promises made by Lord Stanley.  All Henry knew was that neither man had committed to fight with him.  Henry's mother had warned him the Stanley brothers were rumored to deliberately take opposite sides during a conflict.  That way one Stanley would always win no matter what the outcome while the loser would immediately pledge undying allegiance to the winner... until the next battle of course.  People were still trying to figure out how it was possible that the Stanleys had backed Richard during the Buckingham Rebellion.  Thomas Stanley had to know his wife Margaret was involved with the rebels, so whose side was Lord Stanley really on?

Buckingham's Rebellion had been a perfect example of a situation where either way the Stanleys would win.  If the Rebellion failed, the Stanleys had backed King Richard.  If the Rebellion succeeded, Lord Stanley would tell Margaret Richard had been at his side and it was too risky to show his hand.  No doubt Margaret would then put in a kind word with her nephew Buckingham or her son Henry.

The English had seen this before.  They called Lord Stanley a 'trimmer', someone who adapts his positions to match prevailing political trends for personal advancement.  In other words, a trimmer 'trims' his sails to take advantage of both the wind and the 'win'.  A clever phrase indeed and quite apt in this case.

Henry may have been kept in the dark, but Richard was pretty sure that Lord Stanley's heart was with Henry. 

   


   


Rick Archer's Note: 
Here again we have an odd situation being reported from Richard's point of view.  All the websites said pretty much the same thing, 'Richard kept George as hostage.'

However, I felt suspicious.  I began to wonder if this was Stanley's idea, not Richard's.  If one looks at this from Stanley's point of view, this hostage situation gave Stanley a face-saving reason to stay neutral.

Curious, I nosed around to see if anyone else was suspicious about Stanley's detached attitude towards his hostage son George.  A man named Richard P. McArthur writing for the Richard III Foundation appeared to agree with me:

"Could the idea of using Lord Strange as hostage been Stanley’s?  Richard III seems to have asked no one else for hostages. The gambit would be excellent for inducing Richard to allow Stanley to be out of range of Richard’s immediate power.  Richard could probably be counted on to be very hesitant in punishing Strange.  The fact that his son was in Richard’s hands would also serve Thomas Stanley as an excuse to Tudor for a lot of procrastination."


Mr. McArthur suggested that Lord Stanley was secretly pleased by the hostage situation.  After all, it gave him the perfect excuse to tell Henry, Margaret, and Richard 'why' he would sit the battle out... which is probably what Stanley wanted to do all along.  Why risk making real enemies when one can merely irritate them instead?   

Was Stanley really willing to deliberately risk his son's own life?  It is chilling to believe he thought up the hostage situation on his own as a clever excuse, but I would not put it past him. 

"Gee, Henry, I want so badly to send my men out on the field to face that monster Richard, but he has my son!"

"Richard, you can count on me.  After all, I knelt before you and pledged my oath.  In addition, of my own choosing, I offered you my son as a firm sign of my good will!  You will see me bring my army to the field, I promise."


Earlier I made this point:

However, if Richard won the coming battle, Stanley was in big trouble... unless Stanley could find a way not to oppose Richard.  Stanley had to find a way to help Henry and stay neutral at the same time.  Now how does someone do that? I guess we will find out when the time comes.

We just got our answer... Stanley had used his own son as collateral.

   


Countdown to Battle


Like his brother, William Stanley also stayed non-committal.  Although his actions in Wales and Shrewsbury had already labeled him a traitor, William Stanley would not obligate himself to unite his force with Henry's.   On 22 August William pitched his camp near Atherstone next to his brother.  This spot was some distance from both the main bodies.  Their post at Atherstone formed a triangle of sorts with Richard's camp to their right on the other side of a marsh and Henry's camp to their left.  Henry and Richard knew this meant the Stanley brothers would not publicly declare their support for either man. 

On the eve of the battle, Richard was angry.  Lord Stanley had 3,000 followers and his brother William had another 2,000.  Lord Stanley had promised to fight with him.  Well, this was put up or shut up time.  King Richard sent Stanley a message that unless he moved his forces to align with his, he would put Lord Strange, the hostage, to death.

Lord Stanley sent a terse reply "that he might do so at his pleasure."

Stanley had defied his order.  Richard immediately lost his temper and ordered Lord Strange to be executed at the start of the battle tomorrow. Then he calmed down and decided it would be wiser to wait to see what Stanley did in the morning.  Richard sent Strange to a tent under heavy guard. 

(Rick Archer's Note:  Stanley appeared to be betting that Richard was a rational man.  He expected Richard would realize that to kill the hostage too early would cost him his leverage.  But what kind of man has the guts to make that kind of bet?)

Truth be told, Richard was less troubled by Stanley's waffling than Henry.  After all, Richard would have been content if the two Stanleys simply stayed out of the battle whereas Henry was desperate for their support.  Richard’s army had larger numbers and far more confidence. 

Furthermore, Richard did not even have to win.  All Richard had to do was avoid being killed.  In addition to his 12,000 men, Richard had reinforcements waiting for him in Nottingham and Leicester.  Richard could lose today and fight another battle tomorrow.  Not Henry.  This coming battle was his only shot.  With Richard sitting pretty up atop his hill, he smiled in the knowledge that Henry must be terrified.

Richard was correct.  Henry was indeed panic-stricken on the eve of the battle.

If either Lord Stanley or William Stanley backed Richard, it was all over. 

If Lord Stanley and William Stanley decided to sit it out, then Richard still had the superior forces and the experience. 

Henry believed his only chance of victory would come if the Stanleys would fight on his side.  But that seemed unlikely.  In his private interview shortly before the battle, Henry attempted to win them over, but he was apparently unsuccessful.

Meanwhile, he knew that Richard held Stanley's heir hostage.  How could Henry hope that Lord Stanley would defy Richard in this circumstance?  Henry was in a near-hopeless position.  Without Stanley, his badly-outnumbered, ragtag army stood little chance of victory.  His men seemed just as nervous as he was.  Their loyalty to him was tenuous at best.  If the battle started poorly, no doubt the weak of heart would flee on the spot and save their own skins.  The battle could be over the moment it started. 

At this point, Henry despaired that it was hopeless.  Even Margaret is suddenly struck by just how long the odds were.  No doubt she was terrified of losing her son on the battlefield.

Seeing her son so despondent, Margaret Beaufort decided to intercede.  Riding over to Lord Stanley's camp, she confronted her husband and begged him to fight.

"Husband, I implore you to fight at my son's side tomorrow."

"You overlook that this action will cost me the life of my son and heir.  I will not abandon my son for yours."

"“Your son will be honored as a man of courage, the first to fall in Henry’s service,”

Stanley's reply was quite fascinating.  "Margaret, I do not find this comforting.  Think about what you have asked.  You have asked me to sacrifice my son so that your son will live."

"But Henry has a divine right to rule!"

Stanley: "If that is truly the case, then you should have nothing to worry about."

   

The Ghosts of Richard Pay Him a Visit

     

Richard was feeling good about his chances when he went to bed.  However, William Shakespeare suggested Richard was having nightmares. 

If one believes Shakespeare, Richard had murdered enough victims to fill a cemetery.

Through the centuries, Shakespeare’s dark depiction of Richard has remained unshaken.  No one who has seen Richard III has any trouble visualizing Richard as a deformed Machiavellian who betrays his dead brother, murders his nephews to gain his crown and poisons his wife to pursue his voluptuous niece. 

As a malicious, deceptive and bitter usurper who seizes England’s throne by nefarious means, Shakespeare’s Richard revels in his own villainy.

In his famous “Now is the winter of our discontent” speech, Richard shamelessly proclaimed:

I am determined to prove myself a villain.

   

The problem for the audience is that Richard is so damn interesting.  Richard is an undeniably charming and complex figure who sucks in the audience with his immoral logic and dazzling wordplay. The audience shakes its collective head in astonishment that someone this shrewd had to resort to such foul means to get what he wanted. 

But then we stop liking Richard thanks to a brilliant Shakespeare scene... Richard's nightmare.  In this nightmare, Richard’s sins come back to haunt him – quite literally!!  

According to William Shakespeare, on the eve of battle, Richard was haunted by the memory of his crimes.  Shakespeare has found a clever way to help us recall each of Richard’s murder victims.  The specters of these victims appear one by one in a roll call of ghosts who visit Richard in his sleep.  They each point to Richard and claim to have been murdered by the king.

 

   Prince Edward of Westminster
 
 
King Henry VI
   George, Duke of Clarence
   Earl Rivers (Anthony Woodville)
 •  Richard Grey
   Thomas Vaughan
   Lord Hastings
   The Princes in the Tower
   Duke of Buckingham
   Queen Anne Neville

 

The king is visibly shaken by the ghosts of his murder victims.  One by one, each ghost recalls what Richard has done to them and condemns him to death on the battlefield.  The ghosts parade past Richard and chant "Despair and die!" 

Smug and confident earlier in the night, Richard is now struck by doubt.  Forgetting the glee he formerly took in his wrongdoing, he suddenly lacks conviction about the wisdom of his actions.

O no, alas, I rather hate myself for hateful deeds committed by myself.... I am a villain.

At one point, there were so many ghosts, the stage barely has room to accommodate them all.  There was also a strange twist in the dream scene.  Shakespeare forced Richard to stand by and watch as the ghosts leave to pay Henry Tudor a visit.  The ghosts offer encouragement in the upcoming battle.  Richard was understandably quite shaken when he awoke. 

Shakespeare believed what goes around comes around.  Shakespeare knew the audience would take satisfaction in the thought that Richard's evildoings would come back to haunt him, first in his dreams, then on the battlefield.  At heart, most people in Medieval England yearned for justice and fair play.  The rest took part in the War of the Roses.

 

The Battle of Bosworth

   

   

Battle Positions

 
   

On the morning of the battle, 22 August 1485, four armies converged on a field south of Bosworth Market, 13 miles west of Leicester: Richard, numbering 12,000; Henry, numbering 5,000; and two Stanley armies, some 5,000 when combined. 

Richard had expected to have an even larger army.  Richard had called the lords of the realm to assemble under his banner at Leicester on the 16th of August.  But many of his vassals either failed to answer the royal summons or conveniently got stuck in transit.  Nevertheless Richard was pleased to note his force still greatly outnumbered his opponent.  His nightmares aside, Richard was quite confident of victory as the battle began. 

The chief lords who did join their king were John Howard, Duke of Norfolk, and Henry Percy, 4th Earl of Northumberland. 

John Howard had been Richard's right hand man from the moment Richard made his rise in 1483.  Now here at Bosworth, Howard was Richard's most trusted general.  Norfolk commanded the Yorkist Vanguard to Richard's right.   The men under Richard's control had a deep, soupy marsh on the left to use as a defensive measure.  

Henry Percy was in the rear with 7,000 reserves.  Richard had a bad feeling about Percy.  Richard had paid a high price to win Percy's loyalty, but today this man was worried about something. 

Since Richard had so many men, the field was not wide enough for everyone to fight at once.  So he placed a considerable force in reserve under Lord Northumberland.  Just to be sure, Richard placed a close watch on Percy when the battle started.  Richard didn't want Percy to turn his own men on him.  Richard was sick and tired of people betraying him. 

As expected, the two Stanley armies moved into neutral positions on a hill.  They stood side by side about half a mile apart. 

   

Henry Tudor took the field with a motley crew.  Among his 5,000 men were roughly 1,000 French, 2,000 Welsh, 500 Scots, and 1,000 dispossessed Lancastrian exiles plus a few York loyalists who couldn't stand Richard.  In other words, Henry's army was comprised of everyone who hated the Yorks plus everyone who hated the English... French, Welsh, and Scots.

Henry was outnumbered 2 to 1.  However, with half of Richard's army held in reserve, the numbers were roughly equal on the front line. 

Henry was well aware of his military shortcomings, so he put his friend John de Vere, Lord Oxford, in charge of the planning.  This was Oxford's chance to redeem himself.  Fourteen years earlier, Oxford should have been the hero at the 1471 Battle of Barnet.  Instead, Oxford had lost control of his men who decided to begin partying before the battle was over.  Amazingly, the vastly superior Lancaster side lost the battle.  Warwick was killed and Edward IV regained the throne.  Given this shocking turn of events, Lord Oxford's guilt must have been immense.  Oxford had disliked Yorkist King Edward, but he absolutely despised King Richard.  Oxford was burning to put this man down once and for all.

Neither Richard nor Henry moved to the front.  Henry, unsure of his fighting ability, remained in back of Oxford's vanguard surrounded by elite Welsh bodyguards.  Richard on the other hand was a warrior.  He fully intended to fight.  However, right now there were too many uncertainties... the Stanleys, Lord Northumberland, as well as Oxford's initial strategy.  Therefore Richard chose to stay up on the hill where he could survey the situation.  Flanked by his own elite unit of mounted bodyguards, Richard was content to let Norfolk take the lead. 

The battle unfolded when Oxford began advancing the Lancastrian forces towards Ambion Hill in one body.  His right-wing was protected by the marsh.  An exchange of arrows and cannon fire followed.  Richard had more cannons, so Oxford decided to get closer to Norfolk's men as the best protection from further cannon shots.

   

When Richard saw Oxford advancing, he ordered Norfolk to attack the enemy just after they passed the marsh.  Norfolk’s vanguard came down Ambion Hill to engage Oxford's force at the base.  In the fierce melee that followed, men hacked at each other in brutal hand-to-hand combat using weapons such as the pole-axe, hammer, battle axe, spear, mace, and long sword.

Norfolk's men were surprised when Oxford suddenly moved his men into an unusual V-shaped wedge.  This wedge was a favorite French offensive maneuver.  During his outlaw years, Oxford had spent time fighting in France as a mercenary.  He knew this formation well.  In addition, his cadre of French mercenaries was also quite familiar with the technique.  Hoping his opponent had not studied recent French battle tactics, Oxford had told these men in advance that he was planning to use this maneuver.

Oxford placed two banners in the ground, and encouraged his men to form up between them in a V-shape.  This created a solid wedge of men similar to an arrow's point.  Norfolk had never seen this formation before.  When Norfolk charged, he found Oxford’s Wedge difficult to attack.  Norfolk's force was getting the worst of the melee, so Norfolk risked his life trying to counter-attack.  Bad move.  His risk failed and Norfolk was killed, some say felled by Lord Oxford himself.  Richard had lost his best friend and finest ally.

   

Historian Chris Skidmore discusses Oxford's French connection.

HENRY TUDOR'S SECRET WEAPON: THE FRENCH

With too few English men to fight in his army, Tudor had been forced to recruit trained mercenaries from Normandy to fight for him. These French forces seem to have been experts in military warfare, and were quickly able to establish "by the king’s shot the lie of the land and the order of his battle". The Burgundian Chronicler Jean Molinet wrote how the French troops, led by Philibert de Chandee - whom Henry VII would later reward with the title Earl of Bath - ordered for Tudor’s force to be reassembled, and "in order to avoid the fire" and instead to attack the right hand flank of Richard’s vanguard, that seems to have caused confusion in the royal army. Richard’s vanguard was broken and soon dispersed and the French, according to Molinet, "obtained the mastery of his vanguard". A letter written by a French soldier shortly after the battle, described how Richard was heard crying “These French traitors are today the cause of our realm’s ruin".

   


Richard was aware that Norfolk had fallen.  However, the advantage of numbers was still with Richard and the Yorkists.  The problem for Richard was that Norfolk's battle lines began to disintegrate without Norfolk's leadership.  Richard ordered Northumberland to bring up his reserve and join Norfolk's hard-pressed men.

To Richard's stupefaction, Lord Percy either did not get the message or refused to participate.   Historians argue to this day whether this was treachery or simply an inability of Percy to find room to maneuver his force around Richard’s force or around the marsh to the left.  There are those who suggest the Lord of Northumberland may have had a pre-existing understanding with Lord Stanley (who else?).

Percy's men claimed unable to cross the marsh, but Richard didn't believe a word of it.  He felt betrayed. Given Richard's earlier suspicion, Richard concluded 'Treachery' was the more likely answer.  Whatever the reason, the reserve forces did not move and Norfolk's line was about to collapse. 

 

Historian Chris Skidmore discusses the reports of treason.

ABANDONED BY THE EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND

With the collapse of his vanguard, Richard would have expected that his rear-guard, led by Henry Percy, the earl of Northumberland, to provide reinforcements. Instead the earl did nothing. One chronicler was insistent that "in the place where the earl of Northumberland was posted, with a large company of reasonably good men, no engagement could be discerned, and no battle blows given or received". Northumberland, Jean Molinet observed, should have "charged the French" but instead "did nothing except to flee, both he and his company, and to abandon his King Richard" since he had already agreed a secret pact with Henry Tudor.

Northumberland was a northern lord whose own power had diminished over the past decade as a result of Richard’s rise to power. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain from abandoning his king. Other reports from the battlefield suggest that Northumberland may have not only left Richard to his fate, but actively turned against him and "left his position and passed in front of the king’s vanguard", at which point, "turning his back on Earl Henry, he began to fight fiercely against the king’s van, and so did all the others who had plighted their faith to Earl Henry". If this were the case, it would explain why Richard had been heard "shouting again and again that he was betrayed, and crying ‘Treason! Treason! Treason!’"

 

Things were getting desperate.  Oxford's men may have been out-numbered, but they had more hate in them than his own men.  Plus they had the momentum thanks to that strange wedge formation.  The Wedge was pushing Norfolk's men back towards Richard's men in the rear.  Something had to be done to bolster Norfolk’s flagging forces.  What was Richard to do?   Norfolk's line was floundering, Northumberland stayed mysteriously rooted to the spot, and Stanley continued to defy his order.  Realizing it was up to him to save this battle, Richard mobilized his own force down the hill to fill the breech.   

Richard watched in horror as the battle was in danger of getting away from him.  Richard's eyes automatically turned to the two Stanleys.  There they stood with their 5,000 men positioned on Dadlington Hill less than a mile away.  Richard was infuriated.  That damn Thomas Stanley!!  Why didn't he fight? 

Incensed that Lord Stanley still refused to participate, Richard sent three messengers to Stanley with a curt and quite frustrated demand... "Order your men to fight now or watch your son die!"

15 minutes later the messengers were back.  Richard anxiously asked them what Stanley had said. 

Lord Stanley's reply was so unbelievable, it became instant military legend.

"Tell Richard I have other sons."

Furious at Stanley's defiance, Richard ordered his hostage, Lord Strange, beheaded.  However, in the heat and confusion of battle, the order was not carried out... probably because no one wanted to carry out the order.  Whether Richard won or lost, after the battle, Lord Stanley would undoubtedly seek the identity of the executioner and have his vengeance.  Since Richard was too busy to see if his order had been carried out, Lord Strange was never touched.

Lord Stanley never budged an inch throughout the battle.

   

Richard's Charge

Henry was feeling abandoned.  Lord Stanley had promised to help days earlier, but had yet to move.  This was bad news.  Henry was still convinced his army had no chance of victory against these superior forces without Lord Stanley's help. 

On the other hand, he was encouraged by Oxford's considerable success.  Henry wasn't going to give up without a fight.  Seeing Richard's men come down the hill about to attack Oxford, Henry decided to advance his own men forward into the battle to support Oxford's vulnerable right.  Henry moved his men to the right where there was an opening between Oxford and the marsh.

Richard could see that Henry was headed into the gap before him.   There were men fighting there, but very few.  No doubt Henry was moving to check the advancement of the men Richard had recently sent into battle.  However, Henry had no idea Richard was sitting right behind those men with his own elite mounted guards.  

   

Henry was on foot with a relatively small force of men, several hundred at best.  Richard was incredulous... Henry had no idea he had just exposed himself to great danger.  Richard tensed like a panther ready to pounce upon an unsuspecting prey. 

Richard was certain he had just been given the chance to win outright by killing Henry.  This was the moment Richard had been waiting for.  He is said to have uttered:  "God forbid I yield one stepThis is the day I will die as a king or win."

With that, he ordered 200 men of his mounted bodyguard to charge.  The horses came down the hill towards Henry at breakneck speed.  They penetrated through Richard's own line, raced through the gap and took on Henry's force directly. 

As King Richard and his mounted knights crashed into Henry’s unit, their force was so great that Henry's men barely withstood the initial onslaught. 

 

This was an incredibly dramatic moment. In poker terms, Richard was all in.  He was risking everything in a foolhardy attempt to take out Henry all by himself.  As Shakespeare would put it, Richard had chosen to risk his life on this cast of the die.  Interesting choice of words, yes??

Charging recklessly at the head of his knights, Richard reached Henry’s contingent first.  Richard's lance struck Sir William Brandon, Henry's standard-bearer, in the chest so hard that the lance broke in half.  The powerful thrust knocked Brandon from his horse; the man was dead before he hit the ground.  

Riding on, now Richard faced Sir John Cheyne, Henry’s personal bodyguard.  Cheyne was a huge man who was a renowned jousting champion.  Fearless, Richard unhorsed the giant using just the broken stub of his lance. 

And then it happened... Richard's horse was wounded.  In pain, the horse reared up and threw Richard to the ground.  Richard was down. 

 

   
   

Richard was not hurt, but he was in great danger.  He was angry to see that Henry was still safe.  Somehow Henry Tudor's Welshman had held firm against the initial onslaught.  They were still in shock, but soon the Welsh bodyguards will begin to counter-attack.  Richard realized he had been far too impetuous in his headlong charge.  However, he still had time to get away.  Henry's men had not regrouped sufficiently from the wild charge.  If Richard could find another horse, he could flee and escape danger. 

This was the moment immortalized by William Shakespeare. 
 

King Richard:  
       A horse, a horse! My kingdom for a horse!

William Catesby (Richard's councilor):  
      Withdraw, my lord!  I'll help you to a horse.

King Richard:  
      Slave!  I have set my life upon a cast. 
      Now I will stand the hazard of the die.

Richard III,  Act 5, scene 4, 7–10

   

Sucker Punch

   

After Richard lost his horse, he bravely decided to stick around.  This was a bold move because now it was Richard and his men who were out-numbered fighting here behind enemy lines.  Undeterred, Richard rose and engaged several attackers by himself. 

Observers of the action would later assert this was Richard's finest moment.  He fought off these men single-handedly with great courage and skill.  In so doing, this bought Richard enough time for help to arrive.  Seeing their leader fall to the ground, Richard's nearby men came to the rescue of their leader.  They regrouped around the king to fight off Henry's men.  This in turn gave reinforcements coming from the marsh enough time to arrive.

Richard's foot soldiers had seen the mounted riders race through the "Gap".  Naturally they had followed their leader who was fighting for his life 300 yards downfield.  Given time, the foot soldiers had caught up to join the fight.  This was a major turning point. 

Henry was nearby and unsure what to do.  While Richard was an undisputed warrior, Henry was just the opposite.  At Bosworth, Henry waited on the sidelines and let others do his dirty work for him.  That said, to his credit, Henry did not run.   However, he was thinking about it.  Henry kept a horse nearby in case the battle was lost.  And right now it did not look good for Henry. 

Richard's one-man stand had evoked images of Henry V, the great warrior king of Agincourt.  His maniacal fighting was infectious, evoking a passion in the men which they had previously lacked.  Richard's men rallied around their indomitable leader. 

   

As for Henry's forces, they sorely lacked leadership.  According to several sources, Henry did not even swing his sword, but rather just stood there cowering behind his Welsh guardsmen.  Suddenly out-numbered, Henry's meager force buckled.  Although Richard's wild charge had failed to reach Henry, it had done a fine job of disorganizing Henry's defense.  The York foot soldiers trailing the horsemen were on the verge of breaking through the enemy line.  Henry's men were fighting for their lives. 

Now that the foot soldiers had joined the fight, it was just a matter of time.  Richard should have won right here.  But he didn't.

   

Instead Richard was hit by a ferocious Sucker Punch.  

When Richard had made his mounted charge down the hill, Stanley could see the horsemen making a determined beeline for Henry's exposed right flank.  Realizing Henry was in serious trouble, Stanley decided to intervene.  He ordered his own men to ride forward and cut off Richard's attack with a surprise entry into the battle. 

With Stanley's men coming in from behind with full fury, Richard's men never knew what hit them.  It was a sneaky move, yet brilliant in its timing.

All's fair in love and war...

Richard's men died swiftly, many of them with swords in their backs.  Others laid down their weapons and surrendered.  It was over.

Or should we say it was over for everyone but Richard.  Unaware of Stanley's intervention, Richard was ‘fighting manfully in the thickest press of his enemies.’ 

Richard had been fighting so hard at the center, he had no idea what was going on around him.  However, once his protective layer of men had been stripped away, Richard suddenly became aware of the wolf pack of men surrounding him. 

With a shudder, Richard saw their banner... these were Stanley's men. 

Seeing that Richard was cornered, the wolves began to approach.  There would be no escape.  Richard had no choice but to fight to his death. 

   


Richard's Final Moments

(Rick Archer's Note:  A woman named Marilee Hanson wrote an eloquent passage about the end of Richard's life.  I was so impressed that I prefer to give Ms. Hanson the honor of finishing this part of the story.)

   

In the words of Marilee Hanson:

Richard was wounded several times but continually refused the advice of his few companions to flee.  He also refused the offer of a horse.  His heroism was evident to all.  In the end, Richard could not prevail.  Fighting alone, Richard was virtually the last man standing.  Around him lay the bodies of his few companions – Conyers, Brackenbury, Ratcliffe.

His crown was knocked from his head; his head was struck so many times that his metal helmet was beaten into the skull; even after his death, his body continued to be beaten.  

There is a legend that his crown landed in a hawthorne bush; true or not, it was soon enough in Henry Tudor’s hands – and not because of any personal bravery on the part of the first Tudor king.

It cannot be emphasized enough that Richard III died valiantly in battle. 

The battle lasted about two hours. Its outcome – Henry’s triumph – was only made possible by Stanley’s disgraceful betrayal of his king.  Had he waited a few moments longer, Henry may have been personally killed by Richard. That single action inaugurated the Tudor dynasty – and it was a shameful inauguration.

Richard III, who had fought so heroically and suffered an awful death, continued to be humiliated and abused.  His body was stripped of armor and underclothes.  Then his naked body was slung limply over a horse with arms and legs dangling at the sides.  A halter was tossed around his neck to symbolize his defeat.  In this shameful manner, Richard was taken to a friary in Leicester where his body lay on view for two days; it was naked from the waist down except for a scant and cheap black cloth. 

   

Richard was buried at the friary with no ceremony in a pauper's grave.  The church no longer exists – Henry’s son ordered the dissolution of the monasteries in the 1530s.  Richard’s grave was opened and the body thrown out. Later, the coffin was supposedly used as a horse trough and cellar steps in a nearby manor. Richard III remains the only English king since 1066 to have no burial place.  He was also the last English king to die in battle. 

Henry Tudor had declared himself King Henry VII after Lord Stanley placed Richard’s crown upon his stepson’s head. His officers were busy settling old scores, executing old foes and rounding up the prisoners. In the end, we can reasonably estimate that about 400 men – in total – died that day.  Few wanted to talk about the actual fighting after the battle.  Those two hours ended in betrayal and death for one king and started one of the most celebrated dynasties in English history.

On a personal note….  I do want to stress that Henry Tudor did not participate in the fighting – and, in fact, he kept a horse nearby so he could flee if the battle was lost.  In other words, Henry planned to ‘turn tail and run’, as the cliché goes.

It might seem odd that a king who supposedly won his crown in battle was actually quite cowardly on the battlefield, and didn’t participate – but it is the truth. Richard III only lost because Lord Stanley disgracefully betrayed his king. And he did so after Richard had already forgiven him numerous offenses (many bordering on treason), and had treated him kindly. Henry may have claimed a crown that day, but he claimed no glory.

If you wish, you may visit the Richard III Society site for the other side of the story.


This passage was written by Marilee Hanson.  You can read her entire story at:

English History: Henry VII Facts & Information Biography

   

Kill Shot

After Richard had been knocked off his horse, he wandered the battlefield looking for Henry.  He killed every man coming into his way with fatalistic rage.  Then Richard spotted Henry a hundred yards away.  Henry was clearly visible beneath his banner.  Richard sniffed with disgust at Henry hiding behind the Welsh bodyguards battling to keep him alive.  Full of scorn, Richard decided to finish the issue himself.  Full of battle fury, Richard drew his battle axe and moved stealthily towards Henry.  Although Richard was in the absolute thick of the battle, he still wore his crown.  Knowing full well this made him a marked man, to his credit, Richard refused to take it off.

Suddenly a large group of men appeared out of nowhere to block his path.  Richard was confused.  He had nearly reached Henry when this sudden press of new attackers forced him to abandon his path.  Richard realized that he and his knights were being driven back into the marshy ground by a much-superior force. 

With Richard did not know was that William Stanley had been watching the battle from his armchair seat on the side of the battlefield.  Seeing the great peril that Henry was in, William Stanley had launched his men into action on the Tudor side.  

Stanley's rescue almost didn't make it. In addition to Richard's approach, there were other fighters on the verge of breaking past Henry's tiring bodyguards.  Stanley's men arrived just in the nick of time.  Now Henry's imminent demise changed in the blink of an eyelash as Stanley's men descended with brutal effectiveness. 

 

Richard's men never knew what hit them.

Shortly after Stanley's men charged into the flank of Richard’s household knights, Richard realized he was surrounded.  Where did these new men come from?  They were not here a moment ago.  Then Richard saw their banner and froze.  These were Stanley's men.  Richard knew he was doomed. 

Screaming “Treason!”, Richard hacked left and right with his battle axe.  So did his remaining coterie.  Outnumbered, Richard's group fought valiantly but were cut down one by one.

Now it was just Richard.  As the wolf pack approached, Richard prepared to die a soldier's death.  The blows came from every direction.  An arrowhead was found embedded in his spine. It was this wound, inflicted by an enemy archer at close range, that most likely brought the battling King to his knees. 

Richard suffered 10 deep wounds.  The kill shot was a blow deep into the back of Richard's head by a halberd.  The blow was so strong it cleaved a giant hole into his skull and left chips of his metal helmet buried in his brain.  This deep gash would serve as a gruesome testament to the horror of Richard's last fight. 

   

Richard was the final Plantagenet King of England.  He was also the last English king to die in battle. 

Every observer, sympathetic or otherwise, agreed that Richard had fought bravely to the end.  John Rous, a man who compared Richard to the Antichrist, admitted,If I may say the truth to his credit, though small in body and feeble of limb, Richard bore himself like a gallant knight and acted with distinction as his own champion until his last breath.

   

Shortly after Richard's death, Lord Stanley appeared at the site.  As Stanley stood there viewing Richard's lifeless body, a courtier named Reginald Bray noticed Richard's crown had fallen into a nearby hawthorn bush. 

Stanley asked Bray to hand the crown to him.  Then Stanley turned towards Henry and placed the crown on his son-in-law's head.  Then Stanley stepped back and took a knee.  Everyone in attendance grasped the solemnity of the moment and did the same.  Lord Stanley saluted him as king, while the soldiers shouted for 'King Henry!'  There on the battlefield, Henry Tudor was crowned as Henry VII. 

To the winners and traitors go the spoils.  Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, the man who withheld 7,000 men from Richard, was taken prisoner.  He did not suffer for long.  Henry Tudor, now King Henry VII, soon released the last Percy heir from the Tower of London.  Henry appointed him Lord Warden of the East and Middle Marches, thereby generously rewarding Percy's treachery and perhaps pointing to a possible secret deal made by Percy and Lord Stanley beforehand. 

Henry also rewarded Thomas Stanley, his “right dearly beloved father”.  Henry made Stanley the Earl of Derby on 27 October 1485.  The following year Henry confirmed Stanley as Lord High Constable of England and High Steward of the Duchy of Lancaster, besides granting him other estates and offices. In 1486 Stanley also stood as godfather to Henry’s eldest son, Arthur, Prince of Wales.

Lord Stanley had elevated fence-sitting to an art form.  One can only wonder how his son Lord Strange felt towards his father for offering him up as a lowly pawn. 

John Howard, Duke of Norfolk, was virtually the only person who did not desert Richard that day.  Howard was rewarded for his loyalty with a arrow through his face after his helmet was pulled off during the battle.  Curiously, Shakespeare wrote in his play that Norfolk had been warned the night to be very careful.  This warning was attached as a note to his tent. 

    'Jack of Norfolk be not too bold for Dickon, thy master, is bought and sold'

'Dickon', of course, is slang for Richard.  Legend has it that Northumberland had been bought off by Lord Stanley prior to battle.  If so, Treachery indeed. 

   

King Henry VII

   

Henry Tudor became king of England at the age of twenty-eight.  His mother Margaret burst into a flood of tears at his coronation.  Henry VII did indeed marry Elizabeth of York, a union which put a welcome end to the War of the Roses.   During Henry's reign, playing cards were invented.  The portrait of Elizabeth has appeared eight times on every pack of cards for the last 600 years.

Although Henry was not a particularly popular king, he did have his virtues.  For one thing, Henry proved to be an able administrator.  He was also extremely frugal, 'miserly', a trait which restored England to financial security. 

One of Henry's wisest moves was to forbid nobles to retain their own armies. After observing how his step-father Thomas Stanley had held both Richard and himself hostage to his power, Henry learned his lesson.  From now on, a small number of attendants was acceptable, but Henry did not want any lord to have more power than the king. 

Edward IV had attempted the same maneuver, but had not gotten very far.  Henry did much better.  He was aided by a simple fact... as king, he owned most of the gunpowder in the country.  Henry simply blew up the castle of any recalcitrant baron.  It was a very effective policy.  In general the English nobility was already in decline thanks to the decimation during the Wars of the Roses.  Under Henry, the power of the nobility fell even further while the King grew in power.

It is said that Henry lacked the majesty and charisma of his son Henry VIII and his famous granddaughter Elizabeth I.  But maybe charisma was not important during those years.  Henry was better known as a plodder.  His attention to detail, hard work, dedication, and discipline was exactly what England needed.

Henry VII was succeeded by his son, the tyrannical and bloodstained Henry VIII.  Henry VIII is probably the best-known king in English history, but for all the wrong reasons.  Henry VIII was famous for marrying six wives and executing two of them.  His problems with the Catholic Church would lead to much bloodshed and heartache in years to come.  Henry VIII gave us Bloody Mary, the fanatic Queen who burned Protestants at the stake in her Catholic zeal.

On the other hand, Henry VIII also gave us Elizabeth I by Anne Boleyn.  Elizabeth was said to be wily and highly astute.  She had to be!  Elizabeth survived an appalling childhood and adolescence to emerge as the ablest of the Tudors. 

Elizabeth nimbly survived the many assassination attempts made on her life. Coming to power as a Protestant at a time when the Catholic Church was fighting to retain religious supremacy in England, Pope Pius V issued a proclamation giving any Catholic the green light to rise up and assassinate her.

Elizabeth’s life was in constant danger after that.  There was the Barge Incident, the Ridolfi Plot, the Throgmorton Plot, and of course the infamous Babington Plot, the one that would cost Mary, Queen of Scots, her life. 

In December 1583, Elizabeth wrote to the French Ambassador:

There are more than two hundred men of all ages who, at the instigation of the Jesuits, conspire to kill me.

Queen Elizabeth was not exaggerating.  However, she escaped every single attempt on her life unscathed.  It seems evident that Elizabeth I shared many qualities with her grandfather, Henry VII, the first Tudor king.  Both were shaped by perilous upbringings to become cautious, careful rulers who trusted their own instincts over their advisors.  This distrust served them in good stead. 

Elizabeth went on to lead England for 45 years.  Elizabeth was a remarkable woman who was noted for her learning and wisdom.  She was popular with the people of England and had a knack for selecting capable advisors.  Unlike many rulers, the welfare of her people was her main objective.

Elizabeth oversaw the expansion of England's sea power.  The Spanish Armada was decisively defeated in 1588 and Raleigh's first colony in Virginia was founded.  With Shakespeare at the height of his popularity, prosperity at home, and dominance in foreign relations, the Elizabethan Era became a celebrated time in English history.  When my friends and I visit the Texas Renaissance Festival every fall, we are reenacting the classic 16th century of England. 

Alas, Elizabeth chose never to marry, so she was the last of the Tudor monarchs. With no offspring to take her place, Elizabeth gave tacit approval to the appointment of James, son of Mary, Queen of Scots, to take her place.   With Elizabeth's death, the House of Tudor (1485-1603) came to an end. 

The new King James took the throne largely because James was about the only man left with a drop of royal blood.  Oddly enough, Elizabeth had executed the young man's mother, Mary, Queen of Scots.  Then she turned around and made Mary's son the next English king.  Weird?  No kidding.  That is why I love English history so much.   English history is so deliciously perverse and unpredictable

   

Elizabeth Woodville Revisited

There is an excellent chance that the real Elizabeth Woodville wasn't nearly as nice and decent as the woman portrayed in the White Queen.  There are hints she was a schemer in her own right.  However, that side of her got short-shrift in the TV series.  We are all so much at the mercy of how the script writers wish to portray each character. 

Ostensibly the White Queen was a tale about an unusually pretty girl who waylaid a King by the roadside.  After Elizabeth used her magic ways to capture Edward's fickle heart, she was in for a wild ride.  Such a scandal!  For a king to marry a widow (i.e. not a virgin), a commoner once married to the enemy, a woman 5 years older than the King, this was unheard of.  For this coup alone, Elizabeth Woodville would go down in history as a woman best known for marrying well above her station and brilliantly capitalizing on it.

The legacy of Elizabeth Woodville is quite impressive.  Considered an 'unsuitable woman' for the throne, she gave birth to twelve children!!  Together Edward and Elizabeth had 3 boys and 7 girls (5 of whom lived to adulthood).  Unfortunately, Elizabeth Woodville would suffer much heartache in the process.  Sad to say, three of her five sons were likely murdered by Richard III.  One died young and one by her first husband survived.

The match brought his Queen and her family right into the thick of the Wars of the Roses.  Over the next twenty-four years, Elizabeth would experience five changes in leadership, ten children, five uprisings, god knows how many battles, two missing Princes and a slew of dead relatives.  Despite intense heartache, in the end, Elizabeth had the satisfaction of knowing her namesake daughter would become the next Queen of England. Every monarch that has sat on the throne from Henry VIII onwards has been her descendant.

   

Lord Stanley Revisited

 
   

On a personal note, the main reason I wrote this long story about the War of the Roses was to learn more about Lord Stanley. 

Quite frankly, I doubt there would have been a Tudor Dynasty without Lord Stanley.  I also doubt very many people know who he was.

And yet look how remarkable Stanley was!!  In a story dominated by fearsome warlords such as the Duke of York, the Earl of Warwick, George Plantagenet, the Duke of Birmingham, Margaret of Anjou, Edmund Beaufort, Henry Percy, Richard III, there was one man - Lord Stanley - who stayed completely unscathed for the entire 32 years.

I certainly had no idea how important Stanley was until I saw the White Queen series on television. 

But the funny thing is, although the show was supposedly about Elizabeth, somewhere along the line Margaret Beaufort stole the show.  And in many ways Lord Stanley stole the show from her. 

To me, Lord Stanley was by far the most interesting character in the entire series.  Lord Stanley was responsible for the most remarkable quote I think I have ever heard. 

In the tenth and final episode, when Stanley replied to Richard, "I have other sons", I practically fell out of my chair. 

Who on earth takes chances like this with his son's head on the line?  At the time, I told myself if I ever got the chance to learn more about this strange man named Lord Stanley, I would do so.  Even though I spent over seven long weeks researching the story, I am so glad I followed through with my initial curiosity. 

I have long been intrigued with the Game of Thrones.  However, as twisted as this series has been, I always told myself that this was fiction and nothing this crazy could ever happen in real life.  And then I discovered the War of the Roses!

The War of the Roses has seen a plethora of family feuding, incest, crimes of passion, tragedy and acts of cruelty that would stretch the imaginations of even today’s most far-fetched soap opera writers.  Although Shakespeare's interest settled upon Richard III, my interest fixated upon Lord Stanley, the shrewdest of them all. 

I am more used to men like Warwick, or Richard of York, or Margaret of Anjou, or Edward of York... men who use war and power to further their interests.  Unless Lord Stanley did murder the Princes in the Tower (unlikely according to the experts), I don't remember Lord Stanley dropping a single drop of blood outside of battle.  Stanley gained his power strictly through one daring chess move after another. 

Unlike the ruthless Richard III or serial traitor Lord Warwick, Lord Stanley grew rich by clever marriage and clever politics.  Unlike the others who died horrible deaths in pursuit of the throne, Stanley advanced because he was perfectly happy being the power behind the throne.  He raked in titles, lands, riches, and accolades without aspiring to have his face on the money.  Or should we say both faces on either side of the coin?

It was so perfectly fitting that Lord Stanley, despite his earlier absence at Bosworth, was conveniently on hand to pick up Richard’s fallen crown and place it on the head of the new king, Henry VII. 

Lord Stanley died at his estate of Lathom House in Lancashire on 20 July 1504.  Considering all the dramatic chances he took throughout the Wars of the Roses, Stanley was fortunate to have died naturally at home, instead of on a battlefield or on the scaffold.

It had taken great skill not just to stay alive, but to have enriched himself and his family in the processExpediency was his watchword No monarch however powerful could ever completely rely on his loyalty or support.  Lord Stanley’s allegiances were ever ready to shift in the winds of change, his sails always ready to altered and adjusted if the situation demanded it.

At its heart, the War of the Roses is a story about treachery and double cross.  Time after time, people are always worse than one can ever imagine them being.  Or so History would apparently teach us. The War of the Roses showed us what happens to people whose morals fall to pieces when their ambition places them too close the throne.  As they say, power corrupts.  And so does ambition. 

We watched carefully as one shark after bit the dust.  Warwick, Margaret of Anjou, George, Edmund Beaufort, Richard, Anne Neville, Isabel Neville, Edward of Westminster, and all those French kings. 

Elizabeth trusted no one, but she was helpless to protect her children.  Richard bestowed lands, titles, honors right and left and look how much loyalty that bought him.  Margaret Beaufort played the angles and prayed till she was blue in the face, but in the end found herself was helpless to win the battle for her boy.  Ultimately it wasn't Margaret, but rather Stanley who put Henry VII on the throne.  Stanley played the game the best. 

There is a board game known as Diplomacy that I have played over the years.  By coincidence, it has spots for seven players.  I have observed that the winner is typically the one who irritates the fewest people in the early stages of the game and who backstabs an ally at a critical juncture late in the game.  I personally am not fond of backstabbing, so I don't win very often.  But I know how it's done.

More than any character I have ever studied, Thomas Stanley has produced a master class in how to navigate one's way through tricky, dangerous situations with head intact.  His knack for treachery is a lesson for the ages. 

 

 

 

The Discovery of Richard's Grave

 
Sometimes there are stories that are just too good to be true... but then they turn out to be true after all.

The odds of finding the remains of Richard III hiding for six centuries under a Leicester parking lot were incredibly remote.  But that is exactly what happened. 

When I first heard the story that Richard's bones had been unearthed under a car park, I assumed they had been excavating in the area in preparation for putting up a new building. 

I was wrong.  It turned out that they were deliberately digging in this area for this reason.  This was the idea of a woman named Philippa Langley, a Scottish screenwriter and historian who devoted several years to getting this project underway. 

Ms. Langley is the President of the Scottish branch of the Richard III Society.  She attributes the discovery to a feeling she had when first visiting the northern end of the Social Services car park where the king was later found.  She had gone to Leicester for the purpose of finding out more about Richard for a screenplay she was writing.

According to Ms. Langley, "The first time I stood in that car park, the strangest feeling just washed over me. I thought: 'I am standing on Richard's grave.'"

With that kind of supernatural power, perhaps Ms. Langley is the descendant of Elizabeth Woodville.  She was greatly aided by Dr. John Ashdown-Hill, the same gentleman whose ideas contributed to the story of Edmund Tudor's dubious parentage.

According to Wikipedia, in 2003 Ashdown-Hill was asked by colleagues in Belgium to seek the mitochondrial DNA sequence shared by Richard III of England and his brothers and sisters. He spent a year tracing an all-female line of descent from Richard III’s eldest sister, Anne, to Joy Ibsen, a woman living in Canada.

In 2004 Ashdown-Hill was commissioned by the BBC to research a story that Richard III’s remains had been thrown into the River Soar.  He concluded that the story was untrue.

In 2009 Philippa Langley invited Ashdown-Hill to lead a study day for the Scottish Branch of the Richard III Society, as a result of which the Looking for Richard Project was founded.

In August 2012, after three years of hard work persuading the authorities in Leicester, the search for the lost remains of Richard III began with the excavation of the Social Services Department car park.  Is this unbelievable or what?

On the very first day of the dig - 25 August 2012 - bones were found in the area predicted by John Ashdown-Hill and by Philippa Langley.  People gasped when they saw the skeleton.  A very pronounced curve in the spine was immediately visible when the body was first uncovered.  The first thing that crossed their minds was this might very well be the 'hunchback' referred to by Shakespeare.   When Shakespeare wrote of Richard III as a "bunchback'd toad," he didn't have the benefit of actually seeing the king, who had died in the previous century.

It turns out that Richard had adolescent onset scoliosis, a curvature of the spine.  In other words, the deformity wasn’t present at birth, but developed after the age of ten.  This lends strong support to the story that George, Richard's older brother, pushed him down a flight of steps during a fight between the two boys.  The resulting injury likely triggered the onset. 

Two weeks later, on 12 September 12 2012, these skeletal remains were confirmed as belonging to Richard III.  DNA research proved that the DNA of the bones matched the sequence from Richard III's descendants that Ashdown-Hill had discovered back in 2004.

Ms. Langley and Dr. Ashdown-Hill were awarded an MBE in the 2015 Queen's Birthday Honours for "services to historical research and the exhumation and identification of Richard III".

Personally, I think the recovery of Richard's remains is one of the greatest accomplishments imaginable.  I congratulate them!

Incidentally, Richard's genetic tests have revealed a break in the royal male line, potentially undermining the legitimacy of the entire House of Plantagenet.  Uh oh...

When scientists revealed last year that an adulterous affair had apparently broken the male line in Richard III’s family tree, they promised to investigate further.  At the moment, no fingers have been pointed.  But no doubt they will be. 

This finding, of course, is highly ironic.  We may remember that Richard based his right to the throne based on the alleged illegitimacy of his brother Edward's children. 

One of Richard III's most unnatural crimes, according to Tudor propaganda, was his accusation that his own mother, Cecily Neville, was an adulteress.  

This, of course, went back to that crazy Blaybourne accusation.  Back in 1469, both Warwick and George began to spread rumors that King Edward was a bastard.  People were asked to believe that Edward's true father was not Richard, Duke of York, but rather some obscure archer named Blaybourne

In 1483, while arguing over his own right to be king, Richard brought the subject up again, claiming he was legitimate, but that his brother Edward was not.

And now in 2015, the DNA tests called Richard's own legitimacy into question. 

Ah, poor, maligned Richard III, will you ever rest in peace?? 

Philippa Langley

Dr. John Ashdown-Hill

 


 The Battle Over Richard III’s Bones…And His Reputation


By Linda Rodriguez McRobbie

SMITHSONIAN.COM
FEBRUARY 8, 2013
 

Richard III may have died an unloved king, humiliated in death, tossed naked into a tiny grave and battered by history. But with two British cities trying to claim the last Plantagenet king’s remains 500 years after his death, maybe his reputation is finally turning a corner.

The discovery of his remains last fall (and the confirmation of the results this week) was the culmination of a four-year search instigated by Phillipa Langley of the Richard III Society.  Both the search and the discovery were unprecedented: “We don’t normally lose our kings,” says Langley.

But it’s perhaps not too surprising that Richard’s bones were misplaced. Richard gained and lost the crown of England during the tumultuous Wars of the Roses period (1455-1487). It is a notoriously difficult period to keep straight: The country lurched from civil war to civil war in a series of wrestling matches between two branches of the Plantagenet house, the Yorks and the Lancasters.

Richard was the Duke of Gloucester and a York; his brother, Edward IV, had taken the throne from the Lancastrian king, Henry VI. When Edward died in 1483, he left Richard in charge as regent to his 12-year-old son, to be Edward V. But in June 1483, just before the boy’s intended coronation, Richard snatched the crown off his nephew’s head by claiming that the child was illegitimate. The boy and his younger brother were both packed off to the Tower of London—and were never seen again.

In the meantime, Richard III had his own usurpers to deal with. The Lancasters were out of the picture, but there was another upstart claimant on the scene, Henry Tudor. Two years and two months after he was anointed king, Richard faced a faction of Tudors at the Battle of Bosworth on August 22, 1485. He lost and was killed, only 32 years old. The Wars of the Roses were over, the Plantagenet house was swept aside, and the Tudors were on the throne. Richard’s battered body was brought back to nearby Leicester, where it was handed over to the Franciscan friars and quickly dumped into a small grave at the Greyfriars Church.

Given that they could barely keep a king on the throne in all this, keeping track of him after he was dead was probably even more difficult—especially since the new regime didn’t want to keep track of him. Henry Tudor, now Henry VII, feared that Richard’s burial site would become a rallying point for anti-Tudorists, so its location was kept quiet. When Henry VIII created the Anglican Church in the mid 16th-century, breaking off from the Vatican, England’s missions were dissolved; the friary was taken apart stone by stone and Richard’s grave was lost with it. Rumors even spread that his bones were dug up and thrown into a river.

Richard would have been forgotten, if not for the Bard himself. William Shakespeare, who always turned to history for a good plot, turned Richard III into one of the most sinister villains ever in his The Tragedy of Richard III.

It wasn’t hard: Richard III already had a bad reputation, especially according to the Tudor historians. His ignominious end and hurried burial was thought fitting for a villain who allegedly murdered his two young nephews to steal the crown; killed his wife to marry his niece; had his own brother drowned in a barrel of wine; and murdered all and sundry who dared challenge him.

In Richard III, Shakespeare further embellished the tale, doing nothing for Richard’s reputation. He opens his play by having Richard III himself claim that he was so ugly, dogs barked at him, and declaring: “And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover… I am determined to be a villain.”

Before the first act is over, he has killed his brother and Henry VI, and goes on to murder the two young princes. Shakespeare also turned Richard’s scoliosis-curved spine into a hunchback, furnishing him with a limp that he might not have had and a withered arm that he definitely didn’t have, just to reinforce the point. Of course, Shakespeare’s depiction of Richard III is about as historically accurate as any period film Hollywood ever produced—dramatized to a point just past recognition.

Indeed, Richard III remains a controversial figure to this day.  Many say he was a victim of the Henry Tudor propaganda machine.  Henry’s own claim to the throne was so tenuous that he spent his reign in a state of permanent anxiety.  Henry believed the dissolution of Richard's reputation was necessary.  This explains the rise of the Ricardians, history lovers who seek to rescue the much-maligned king from Tudor lies.  Richard's defenders claim Tudor's propaganda machine utilized the most brilliant and malignant minds of the day in order to justify the new regime by declaring Richard a usurper.

The Richard III Society was founded in 1924 to “strip away the spin, the unfair innuendo, Tudor artistic shaping and the lazy acquiescence of later ages, and get at the truth”.  According to this organization, Richard didn’t kill his nephews, or his brother or Henry VI, and he didn’t kill his wife— that’s all the stuff that historians in the pay of the Tudors wanted everyone to believe.  Moreover, according to the Society, wise Richard III instituted a number of important legal reforms, including the system of bail and, rather ironically, the presumption of innocence before guilt; he was also a great champion of the printing press.

So finding his bones, for the Richard III Society, was in part about reclaiming the king's reputation from history’s rubbish pile. Philippa Langley, armed with “intuition” that his remains weren’t destroyed and historical research, determined that what was now a parking lot owned by the Leicester Council was in fact the site of the lost church and grave. In August 2012, digging began—with permission and help from Leicester—and a cross-disciplinary team of experts from the University of Leicester spent days painstakingly excavating the area.

What they found, in just three weeks, was the body of a man they believed to be Richard III. And on February 4, the university confirmed that the skeleton was indeed the last Plantagenet king. Not only did he fit the physical description depicted in historical sources—the famously curved spine, the product of the onset of scoliosis at age 10; slim, almost feminine—but his DNA matched that of two descendants of the king as well.

Their findings also confirmed that Richard III was killed rather gruesomely—he was felled by one of two vicious blows to the head, including one from a sword that nearly sliced the back of his skull off. The team found 10 wounds to his body in total, including a “humiliation” stab wound to his right buttock and several to his trunk that were likely inflicted after his death; there was also evidence that his hands had been bound.

(Rick Archer's Note:  The article goes on to discuss a pitched battle between the city of Leicester and the city of York over who gets custody of Richard's remains when they are reburied.  Incidentally, Leicester won the struggle.  Richard's body was re-interred at Leicester Cathedral on 22nd March 2015.  Click here if you wish to read more about the dispute.)

It is easy to dismiss the fight over his remains as two cities wrestling over tourists.  Leicester has already debuted a hastily put-together exhibition on the king and the discovery. But the debate has tumbled into a minefield of regional loyalties—though this is ancient history, it can feel very current. As Professor Lin Foxhall, head of University of Leicester’s archeology department, notes, “You get these old guys here who are still fighting the Wars of the Roses.”

The Richard III Society’s Phillipa Langley is staying out of the debate about where Richard’s remains should go—though she can understand why Leicester and York both want him. “They’re not fighting over the bones of a child killer—for them he was an honorable man,” Langley says. “This guy did so much for us that people don’t know about. They’re actually fighting for someone who the real man wants to be known, that’s why they want him.”

Others, however, are more skeptical about this whitewashed version of Richard and about what impact the discovery will have on his reputation.

“What possible difference is the discovery and identification of this skeleton going to make to anything? … Hardly changes our view of Richard or his reign, let alone anything else,” grumbled Neville Morley, a University of Bristol classics professor, on his blog.

“Bah, and humbug.” Peter Lay, editor for History Today, wrote in an op-ed for The Guardian on Monday declaring that the claim that the discovery rewrites history is overblown, and that the jury is still out on Richard’s real character—at the very least, he probably did kill the princes. And historian Mary Beard prompted a fierce 140-character debate on Twitter this week after she tweeted, “Great fun & a mystery solved that we've found Richard 3. But does it have any HISTORICAL significance?”

Langley, however, is still confident that this discovery will have an impact. “I think there’s going to be a major shift in how Richard is viewed,” she says. “It’s very satisfying, it’s been a long time coming.”

(
Original Story)

 
   


And Now We Come to the End:  The Fog of War

 


Rick Archer's Note, February 2017:

During the Christmas break in 2016, I decided to devote one week to get a general feel for the history of England.  I wrote a light-hearted story that poked fun at the legend of Robin Hood and Richard the Lionheart, the man I was said to be named for. 

Then one day while researching my Richard, I stumbled across another Richard... yes, Richard III.  I came across the Smithsonian article I have reprinted above.  My hat goes off to Linda Rodriguez McRobbie who wrote a very succinct summary of the Richard III history, the controversy surrounding his name, and the discovery of his bones. 

The moment I read this line... "Of course, Shakespeare’s depiction of Richard III is about as historically accurate as any period film Hollywood ever produced—dramatized to a point just past recognition"... I was hooked.  Ms. McRobbie could just as easily been talking about Richard the Lionheart, a fictionalized hero if there ever was one.  Could there just as easily be a fictionalized villain named Richard as well? 

My dear readers might find this hard to believe, but I had never heard of Richard III before.  It is my understanding that every English schoolboy and schoolgirl find themselves immersed in the War of Roses at some point, but my history lessons concentrated more on the Alamo and the Battle of San Jacinto.  That is why I enjoy travel so much because it gives me a chance to explore worlds I never knew about before. 

After reading the Smithsonian article, my one-week adventure turned into a two month journey through the History of England.

And what exactly have I learned? 

One thing I learned is the more I know, the less I know.  This was a humbling discovery to be sure.  As an example, at one point I was convinced that Lord Stanley, the devious one, could very well have been the one who murdered the Princes in the Tower. 

I was very curious why no one but me thought this way.  After all, I am brilliant, yes?  (just kidding).  So I emailed Mr. Gareth Streeter, one of the best writers I had come across.

On Tue, Feb 7, 2017 at 9:23 PM,
Rick Archer <rick@ssqq.com> wrote:

Mr. Streeter,

My name is Rick Archer here in Houston, Texas, of all places. I will be visiting the UK in June so I thought I would get a head-start on the history.

I have been immersed in the War of the Roses for two months.  I find myself most fixated on Lord Stanley.

I agree with you that Margaret Beaufort is not likely to be a 'sinister child killer'.  But Lord Stanley seems just as cold-blooded as Richard III.

I have yet to find a source that points the finger at Lord Stanley, but I have a sneaky feeling I am missing something.  Surely Stanley could find a henchman or pay a guard to do the deed.  However, since I am unfamiliar with how tight the security was in the Tower, maybe this idea is out of the question.

Would you be willing to shed some light on the matter?  Why does Lord Stanley keep getting overlooked?  He would have much to gain with a grateful stepson (Henry) on the throne.
 

Mr. Streeter was kind enough to reply.
 

From: Royal History Geeks
Sent: Friday, February 10, 2017 6:11 AM
To: Rick Archer
Subject: Re: Did Lord Stanley murder the Princes in the Tower?

Hi Rick,

Thanks for your email.

You're not alone in pointing the finger at Lord Stanley.  Historical fiction writers such as Philippa Greggory have implicated him, although as an accomplice to Margaret Beaufort.

Have you read the Croyland Chronicle (c. 1486) and the account of Dominic Mancini (the only contemporary account)?  Collectively these give us a fair bit of info about how the Princes were drawn further deeper into the tower and all but Richard's closest and most trusted servants were dismissed and denied access to them.

It is this that is at the heart of the compelling - although circumstantial - evidence that the poor lads could only have been killed on Richard's orders or at the very least, he would soon have found out about it.  To me, it seems strange that if Stanley had done the deed, that Richard would not have been able to trace it back to him.  Exposing the killer would have done Richard a favour - he could make it clear that the boys were dead but also that he was blameless.  Such a scenario would probably have meant the Tudors never came to power.

I hope you enjoy your visit to the UK!

Gareth 


Croyland ChronicleDominic Mancini?  Who are these guys?

This was the moment I realized the more I know, the less I know. 

The game of getting it right when it comes to History is a lot more difficult than I realized. 

Let me share a funny story.  Once upon a time, I was watching a Houston Rockets basketball game with a friend.  During the game, a player who was rarely used was put in at the end of the game.  He missed one shot after another and made several mistakes. I severely criticized the athlete to my friend.  Too slow, can't shoot, can't play defense!  I was so sure of myself. 

By chance, a couple months later I found myself guarding this man in a pickup basketball game at a city gym.  It was, as they say, a quirk of fate.  I was surprised to see the man wasn't much taller or bigger than me.  For a moment there, I thought I could hang with this guy.

Nope.

This gentleman went around me so fast I never even took a step.  He got to the rim and dunked the ball!!  Then he came back, slapped me on the butt and smiled.  Then he did it again.  It was almost like he 'knew' that I had disrespected him.  I would never criticize this man again nor would I ever criticize another pro athlete for the rest of my life.  This man had taught me a very valuable lesson... don't go shooting your mouth off when you don't know what you are talking about.

With that lesson in mind, I am well aware that various comments I have made in my long saga may very well be misinformed.  I am hardly an expert, but I do enjoy writing about history.  Therefore, let it be known my main purpose is not to convince anyone I am right, but rather to amuse and inform.  Let me add one more thing - I have not made anything up.  I simply share what I read; you have my word on that.

Now I would like to discuss the Fog of War.  During the 1471 Battle of Barnet, fog... yes, fog as in mist, murk, cloud, haze... played a huge part in the outcome of the battle.  However, more often Fog of War represents 'confusion' during battle.  Medieval battles were notorious for confusion because visibility and communication were often limited. 

I contend that there might be a third meaning for Fog of War.  During my research on the Battle of Bosworth, I found several delightful inconsistencies.  Let me share them with you.  I think you will enjoy them. 
 

Example One of the Fog of War:  The 'Over My Belly' Contradiction

 

So, which story do I believe?  Which one is correct?   After flipping back and forth between websites, I decided they very easily could both be correct.  Perhaps this was a phrase that had common usage back in those days. 

It is pretty amazing all the phrases we have in our language that we take for granted.  And yet we have so little understanding of where they come from.  The phrase 'Lose One's Head' has come to mean 'not thinking straight' or 'lose one's temper'.  Obviously this phrase had a somewhat different meaning during the War of the Roses. 

Back in Nineties there was a well-known email that made the rounds titled 'Life in the 1500s'.  This email explained the origin of many common phrases of today.  My favorite explanation was 'Raining Cats and Dogs'. 

We have all heard of thatch roofs, well, that's all they were.  Thick straw, piled high, with no wood underneath.  These roofs were the only place for the little animals to get warm.  So all the pets; dogs, cats and other small animals (mice, rats, bugs) lived in the roof.  When it rained it became slippery so sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof.  Or they got so wet they deserted the roof to find drier places.

Thus the saying, "it's raining cats and dogs."
 

Truth or nonsense?  Sounds plausible, but my bullshit detector suggests someone very easily could be 'pulling my leg'.  Hmm, I wonder where that phrase come from?  If someone can answer that, I will let them walk over my belly.

 


The Mysteries of the Battle of Bosworth

 

Example Two of the Fog of War:  The Mysteries of the Battle of Bosworth

My problem with History is these darn historians keep changing the storyline.  For example, earlier I explained how disappointed I was to learn that Richard the Lionhearted, for whom I was named, was one of the worst kings in English history.  That was a bit of a shock considering I had seen movies and read books as a little boy that suggested otherwise.  I am still in therapy.

Moreover, that was not my only rude awakening.  There have been many.  For example, Sam Houston was the victor at the Battle of San Jacinto which avenged the Alamo and gave Texas its independence from Mexico.  My hometown of Houston was named for the guy.  Sam's a big hero, right?  That is what I was taught in Eighth Grade Texas History.  So imagine my discomfort when yet another childhood hero was knocked from his horse. 

Guess how I felt when I saw the 2004 'Alamo' movie with Dennis Quaid portraying good old Sam as a drunk and a coward?  Rumor has it Houston spent most of his time avoiding a fight because he was badly out-numbered.  Finally Houston's own men had to bully him into fighting.  Theoretically the Texans won the battle because the Mexicans were lulled to sleep by Houston's constant evasions.  Santa Ana himself was said be sound asleep when the battle started thanks to a mulatto prostitute known as the San Antone Rose who kept him up all night in his tent.  So kudos to Sam Houston for his strategic evasions, but the real victory credit goes to Ms. Rose.

About two months into my research on the War of Roses, I made a new friend... Ambion Hill.  Ambion Hill was my reference point for all the stories about the military movements during Richard's last battle at Bosworth.  But I kept getting confused by the different battle reports.  I could not figure out why the various stories contradicted each other.  Then I solved the mystery.   

Take a look at these two maps and see if you can find any discrepancies.
 

   

On the surface, the two maps have much in common.  Both the White map and the Green map show Henry's army advancing northeast in some sort of curve from the southwest.  The Green Map places Richard a bit more northerly, but there is enough similarity to see the initial skirmish had either an East-West or Southwest by Northeast alignment.  So far, no problem.  One can adjust.  

However things get more curious when I add the Color Key to the White Map.  This helps us understand what that  giant blue blob  is up at the top of the White Map. 

Are you starting to catch on that something is off here?  The White Map has the Stanleys in the North, the Green Map has the Stanleys in the South.

 

But wait!!  I'm not finished yet! 

"Debate has raged for centuries over the exact location..."

No truer words have ever been spoken.  Here is a third map of the battle.  Ambion Hill is our one constant, but the alignment of the four armies has rotated yet again.  Now Richard is in the south. 

One thing all three maps have in common is that each map has William Stanley positioned on the 50 yard line prepared to intercept Richard's mad charge at the critical time.

So how much does this map confusion matter?  On the surface, probably not much.  Either way, Richard III is still dead.

Now I have question.  Can you guess which map is the correct one?? 

Obviously someone made a mistake.  And if one person can make a mistake, someone else can make a mistake too.  As it turns out, this map confusion is masking a much deeper problem. 

Prepare to be amused!! 

As it turns out, all three maps are completely wrong.  Not one of them is even remotely correct.  Not even close.

Let's find out why.

   

Let us begin by reading this Wikipedia description of the Battle of Bosworth.  I have highlighted the important parts.  

In their interpretations of the vague mentions of the battle in the old text, historians placed areas near the foot of Ambion Hill as likely regions where the two armies clashed, and thought up possible scenarios of the engagement. [98][99][100]

In their recreations of the battle, Henry started by moving his army towards Ambion Hill where Richard and his men stood. As Henry's army advanced past the marsh at the southwestern foot of the hill, Richard sent a message to Stanley, threatening to execute his son, Lord Strange, if Stanley did not join the attack on Henry immediately. Stanley replied that he had other sons. Incensed, Richard gave the order to behead Strange but his officers temporised, saying that battle was imminent, and it would be more convenient to carry out the execution afterwards.[101] Henry had also sent messengers to Stanley asking him to declare his allegiance. The reply was evasive—the Stanleys would "naturally" come, after Henry had given orders to his army and arranged them for battle. Henry had no choice but to confront Richard's forces alone.[38]

Historical sources regarding the actual battle at Bosworth are scanty at best.  No one who actually fought at the battle recorded the battle; typically, the chroniclers from London recorded great events but they were far from the action in 1485.  Also, the supporters of Richard III did not want to remember their defeat – and unlikely to write about in the charged political climate. Henry’s supporters were concerned with more immediate matters after the battle – namely, beginning the rule of a very inexperienced monarch who had not been to England in fifteen years.  


Vague... likely... possible... scanty... No one recorded the battle... far from the action in 1485

Do these words inspire confidence?  Not hardly.  Don't blame the well-meaning scholar who wrote this article.  He or she is basically saying:

"Sorry, Wikipedia visitors, but I don't have a clue what really happened.  All I can do is depend on a lot of hogwash passed down from 500 years ago that was written by people who weren't even at the battle site in the first place."

I think we can safely assume there were no sportswriters in the stands for this battle.  There were no photographs to rely on, no drawings, no post-game interviews, no newspapers, no next-day talk shows, no magazine follow-ups, nothing.  Sure, rumors were started, but how reliable were they?  The first serious account of the battle was not even written until 18 years had passed!

This is what I mean about the Fog of War... a lot of details get lost or they get deliberately altered.  I also believe key details are made up or embellished by someone's imagination to suit their purposes.

(I apologize in advance if my next comment offends anyone, but what if the same thing is true for the Bible?  But that's another story.)

Wikipedia goes on to make the same point I do: 

The multitude of different accounts, mostly based on second- or third-hand information, has proved an obstacle to historians as they try to reconstruct the battle.  Their common complaint is that, except for its outcome, very few details of the battle are found in the chronicles.  According to historian Michael Hicks, the Battle of Bosworth is one of the worst-recorded clashes of the Wars of the Roses.

The only thing everyone seems to agree on is that there are more theories than there are facts.  In his book about Richard III, Charles Ross said that "There are almost as many different accounts of the battle as there are historians".

What is very interesting about the discovery of Richard's remains over in Leicester is that someone got at least some of the story right.  The details of the disposal of Richard's body were obviously accurate enough to lead the archeologists straight to Richard's grave.

That said, although they got Richard's burial site correct, they really blew it on another key fact.  This next one is a whopper, so make sure to have your computer seat belt on. 

 
 


The 500th Anniversary of the Battle of Bosworth

 

As a warm-up exercise up for our next story, first I have a job for you. 

Find Waldo!


Now I want you to identify the Word next to Waldo.


Once you have the 'Word', try to remember it.

Now please proceed further.

   

Back in the Seventies, someone noticed the 500th anniversary of the 1485 Battle of Bosworth was just around the corner. 

Bosworth has been described as “one of England’s four great decisive battles of the last 1,000 years,” by the UK Battlefields Trust (Hastings, Battle of Britain, and Naseby are the others).

The chairman of the Battlefields Trust spoke up, "We face public spending cuts but these places are a potentially a huge revenue earner.  Normandy alone has 10 times more battlefield centres than there are in the whole of the UK."

The Leicestershire County Council got the hint.  They thought it would be a good idea for tourism and commemorative purposes to build a vacation complex dedicated to the history of this important event.  Now solidly behind this plan, in 1973, they purchased a large, expensive tract of land next to Ambion Hill, the location of the Battle. 

An expert was hired to help create a museum.  He would be responsible for descriptions of the battle that would accompany the exhibits at the Battlefield Visitors Center.  Murals, models, sketches, sculptures and monuments were authorized.

Large-scale infrastructure projects were undertaken.  New roads were built, old roads were widened and improved.  A hotel was built.  Plans were made for a special train to bring tourists over from Leicester, the nearest city. 

A bike trail was built.  A long walkway was built that stretched all the way to Leicester 20 kilometers away (12 miles).  A water park was built.  A forest park was built.  A zoo was built.  An antique center was built.  A canal was improved for boat rides.  

It was a huge, very expensive, very ambitious project that took about ten years in the making.  But Leicestershire got it done.

It was now 1985. Considering the buzz surrounding this project, people whispered this could be bigger than Stonehenge.   The entire country was poised to visit the area for the celebration. 

Large-scale reenactments of the battle involving costumes, horses, weapons and hundreds of volunteers were scheduled.  A large, open-air stage was built for plays like Shakespeare's Henry V, Henry VI, and of course Richard III

This was going to be such a big deal!!  The entire town would greet the visitors in medieval costume.  Battles!  Jousting!  Archery contests!  Executions! (well, maybe a few fake ones).

But then something weird happened.  On August 8th, two weeks before the big event, an article written by a man named Colin Richmond appeared in History Today

Richmond's article stated unequivocally that the Battle of Bosworth did not take place where they said it did.  

As one might gather, the article created a giant uproar.  The Guardian covered the story.  The London Times covered the story.  The entire country was in a tizzy debating the story.

How was it possible to get the wrong battlefield?   

Think about the members on the Council.  How do you suppose they felt?  Ten years of effort, millions of dollars of investments to make this area the perfect place to visit and now on the eve of this giant event, the whole shebang could go up in smoke. 

If this Richmond bloke was right, the Battle could just as easily have taken place in another county!  

5 miles away?  10 miles away?  20 miles?  Blimey, they might rename the Battle!  If so, this entire Bosworth Vacation Paradise is down the drain.

This was intolerable.  This bad news threatened to devastate attendance at the upcoming gala celebration.  A decision was made.  Someone's head needed to go on the block.

With visions of canceled hotel rooms, someone suggested the best way to guarantee full attendance would be to have a genuine execution after all.  Plus they were mad enough to do it.

How about using Colin Richmond?  Gee, what a great idea!

 


The Bosworth Battlefield Disappears!!

 

Example Three of the Fog of War: 
The Startling Disappearance of
the Bosworth Battlefield

How absolutely embarrassing!!   Just about the time England was ready to commemorate one of the four most important battles in history, no one could figure out where the damn battle actually took place.  This was all Dr. Richmond's fault.  Off with his head!

Fortunately for Dr. Richmond, at the last minute they decided not to execute him after all.  Richmond got lucky when Princess Diana agreed to come to the 500th anniversary celebration.  Much to the relief of the organizers, Diana's superstar presence guaranteed the crowds showed up after all (incidentally, I hope everyone knows I am teasing here).   

But that did not mean this controversy was going to be swept under the carpet.  Far from it.

Let's see if we can understand how five centuries of English scholars managed to misplace an entire battlefield. 

Oddly enough, the town of Market Bosworth had virtually nothing to do with the famous battle.  Instead, Ambion Hill (or 'Ambien Hill' if you prefer) would play a pivotal role in this mystery. 

As one may have noticed, every description of the Battle of Bosworth uses Ambion Hill as a starting point.  So let's have a closer look at Ambion Hill.  Ambion Hill is located two miles south of Market Bosworth.  It is said to rise all of 350 feet high.  By comparison, the massive Houston Astrodome in my home town rises 218 feet.  But don't get excited... the land around it is about 300 feet high.  In other words, the hill is about 50 feet high. 

 

   

Notice the phrase "VAGUE MENTIONS". 

Ambion Hill is not very high and not very remarkable.  In fact, I have a suggestion: ignore Ambion Hill. 

Even though countless battle descriptions and maps have made a huge fuss over this hill, as it turns out, not one drop of blood was spilled at Ambion Hill during the Battle of Bosworth.

And why was that? 

Oh my gosh, it turns out the battle took place somewhere else!!  How could this be??

Yes, believe it or not, it turned out that Colin Richmond was right.  The historians had pegged the wrong spot as the original battle site. 

Ambion Hill was a fraud, a pretender. 

Poor Ambion Hill.

Its place in English history was illegitimate. 

Join the crowd.  

 

   

So now I have confirmed that the location of the battlefield was lost.  But don't get upset, this has happened before.  The best example is the Trojan War.  Many scholars assumed that both Troy and the Trojan War were figments of Homer's imagination to help write best-sellers, sort of like modern day historical fiction writers who stretch things a bit and use mythology to advance their plots. 

As it turned out, the site of the Trojan War was located in Western Turkey.  It was by German archeologist Henrich Schleimann in 1871 (story).  So much for all those smug, highly-educated scholars who claimed the place didn't even exist. 

As for the Battle of Bosworth, some might say this mix-up was even more embarrassing.  They had invested millions of dollars in the wrong spot.  This was supposed to be hallowed ground, not some ordinary spot for some dog to do its business.  All those stone markers suddenly had lost their meaning. 

Considering the importance of Bosworth, this would be akin to misplacing Gettysburg here in the States.  Or worse, losing the Alamo, the Texas answer to Sparta's Thermopylae. 

So what went wrong??   Well, the Fog of War.  What else? 
 

 

The main culprit was the terrain.  This part of England is flat.  Very flat.  There are virtually no landmarks of note.  Forgive me if I am wrong, but I think I read somewhere that there are only two hills in the entire region.  Surely I am mistaken, but this picture of the area around Ambion Hill suggests it could be true.  The landscape is so unremarkable it could be true.  Let's just say the absence of any distinguishing topographical clues would help explain why the battlefield began to disappear over time.  Any one of those fields in the picture could be the battle site.

After the battle, no one bothered to write anything down. Why bother?  After all, the people who lived there knew where the battlefield was.  Besides, very few people in this rural area could read or write.  These were the medieval times when illiteracy was rampant.  Therefore, we can assume that local reports were scarce.  Five years passed.  Ten years passed.  Fifteen years passed.  Three more years passed.  Finally in 1503, eighteen years after the battle, a guy named Polydore Vergil was hired by Henry to write the history of his reign.

Vergil (c. 1470-1555) was an Italian humanist scholar, historian, priest and diplomat who spent most of his life in England.  Vergil has been dubbed the "Father of English History".  The Richard III Society has a different name for him... "Public Enemy #1".

Just in case my fellow Texans have not caught on yet, there are many people over in England who love to argue over anything to do with 'Richard the Third' or 'Henry Tudor'.  They will argue over Shakespeare's play.  They will argue over just how deformed Richard was (for the record, he suffered from scoliosis).  They will argue over who killed the Princes in the Tower.  They will argue over where his recently discovered bones should be re-interred. 

Seriously, the animosity in England reminds me of ancient Civil War tensions that rear their ugly head here in America from time to time.  If you ever visit England, just be aware that any mention of Vergil's so-called hatchet job on Richard still raises everyone's blood pressure. 

Vergil was hired by Henry Tudor to write a favorable account of his life.  According to some, Vergil had a clear understanding of who was writing his paycheck.  He is said to have slanted the facts against Richard. 

Indeed, the Richard III Society really dislikes Polydore.  They are bitter because there was no one to defend Richard's reputation, so Vergil had a field day.  The Richard III Society not only accuses Vergil of destroying documents that contradict any positive point of view of Richard, the Society claims there are numerous errors in Vergil’s account of the reigns of Edward IV and Richard III. 

To begin with, they say Vergil is the guy who started those mean rumors about Richard having a withered arm.  Even worse, Vergil was the first person to 'document' the ugly rumors that Richard was responsible for the murder of his nephews. 

Vergil's statements refer to Richard as spiteful, malicious, fraudulent, graceless, wicked, mischievous, frantic and mad.  Virgil claimed Richard's villainy caused his defeat at Bosworth because all his men deserted him, forcing him to fight alone.  Plus he smelled bad (actually I made that one up).

   

Vergil's work gave Henry what he wanted – an account depicting the crimes, faults and unpopularity that defamed King Richard III for time immemorial.  With his so-called History of England, the cards were stacked against the unfortunate Richard III. 

Indeed, Shakespeare's Tragedy of Richard III, the play that makes Richard a villain, is largely based on Vergil's work. 

However, keep in mind that Vergil has his supporters too.  There are a lot of people who think Polydore Vergil is wonderful.  One doesn't get named the 'Father of English History' without a considerable fan club.  

Personally speaking, I don't want to get in the middle of this.  All I care about is to find out what happened to poor Ambion Hill. 

Vergil is the man credited with naming the fight the Battle of BosworthMarket Bosworth is a tiny hamlet of 2,000 people located about 2 miles north of Ambion Hill. 

Unfortunately Vergil never bothered to visit the Bosworth location when he wrote his description.  That explains why his details of the physical lay-out are few and far between. 

As it turns out, it is the 'marsh' mentioned by Vergil and a 'hill' that set the history detectives looking for some marsh-hill combination south of Bosworth.  Vergil didn't give them much to go by, did he?

 

Raphael Holinshed (1529–1580) was an English chronicler.  His work, commonly known as Holinshed's Chronicles, became instrumental in placing the battlefield's location.

Holinshed based his 1571 description of the Bosworth Battle on Vergil's work.  However, since Holinshead lived only six miles from the battle site, his writing gives hints that he may have actually visited the site.  Holinshead added more details about both the marsh and the hill. 

 Holinshed had two key phrases:

"Betweene both armies there was a great marsh then (but at this present, by reason of diches cast, it is growne to be firme ground."

What, the marsh has disappeared?  Uh oh.  That makes the 'hill' reference twice as important. 

"King Richard pitched his field on a hill called Anne Beame, refreshed his soldiers and took his rest."

Note that if we break the word 'Beame' into two syllables, we get 'Anne Be Ame', then say it fast, it sounds like 'Ambion'. 

   

Holinshead can therefore be credited with bringing Ambion Hill into the picture.  So what if there was no marsh?  After all, Holinshead said it dried up.  Voila!  That would explain why there was no marsh around Ambion Hill to any Johnny-come-latelies. 

This is a modern picture of the town of Market Bosworth.  As one can see, the terrain south of the town is remarkably flat. 

In 1785, an amateur historian named John Robinson became the first to state that 'The Ambien' was 'the supposed place of the engagement'. 

Since Ambion Hill was the main hill south of Market Bosworth, no one objected too strenuously.  As if someone actually cared?

After all, the Holinshead Chronicle had specifically stated Richard camped on Ambion Hill.  The first big bump south of the town sounded like as good a spot as any.  Sure, why not?

William Hutton (1723-1815) owned a profitable Birmingham paper warehouse.  His great fortune allowed him time to write historical treatises AND get them published widely. 

Hutton’s famous book "The Battle of Bosworth" was published in 1788.  Hutton was the man who drew this map.  Notice that Ambion Hill figures prominently in the battlefield.

There are those who suggest Hutton took these words too seriously:

"King Richard pitched his field on a hill called Anne Beame, refreshed his soldiers and took his rest."

Hutton may have been guilty of poor logic.  Just because Richard camped there did not mean he also fought there

Although this book was widely criticized at the time, over time Hutton’s work became the account upon which most theories were based.  For example, Hutton claimed he placed the position of the famous marsh on the northwest slope of Ambion Hill because he had once personally trodden in it.  Hutton placed the marsh near the spring known as "King Richard’s Well". 

A return visit in the following years failed to find any trace of the marsh.  Nevertheless, Hutton continued to insist that what he had previously found was "that marsh".

According to modern writer Paul Trevor Hale, Hutton appears not to have known that the marshland in the area had been reclaimed during the enclosure of Dadlington and Stoke Golding in the 1580s.

Here is the key point:  Since no one really cared enough to write a book of their own in protest, as time passed, Hutton's book grew in importance as an authoritative work.  It became influential in causing the hill to be accepted as the site of the battle.

In the absence of an alternative site, over time people took it for granted that Ambion Hill was 'The Place where Richard III died'.

 

   


Rick Archer's Note:
 A gentleman by the name of Paul Trevor Vale has written a detailed account of how the Battlefield became the focus of great controversy here in modern times.  The following information is excerpted from his excellent article.  I highly recommend that anyone interested in this story read Mr. Vale's complete account.

The Continuing Battle of Bosworth Field

Written by Paul Trevor Vale
Original Story

 

In 1973, the Leicestershire County Council purchased the piece of land known as Ambien Farm, located on and around Ambien Hill, near the village of Sutton Cheney. The Council began to develop a Bosworth Field Battlefield Centre. The Council hired a historian to work out the battle positions and tactics of the various participants.  Heraldic standards were being made to mark the positions of the armies on the morning of that fateful day: August 22, 1485.
 

Regarding the Differing Views of Dr. Daniel Williams and Dr. Colin Richmond

Shortly after the project was underway, the original historian withdrew, for reasons never stated.  He was replaced by Dr. Daniel Williams, lecturer in history at Leicester University. Walkways were laid out around Ambien Hill; the old farmhouse was converted into an exhibition hall, book shop and snack bar; and a car park was provided. Dr. Williams published a 24-page booklet giving his analysis. The Council set out the flags and maps to match Dr. Williams’ theories, and opened the Battlefield Centre to the public.

Since 1973, many have expressed doubts about the validity of the site. To mark the 500th anniversary of the battle, Dr. Colin Richmond published an article in the August 1985 edition of History Today.  Dr. Richmond claimed that Dr. Williams was wrong, and that the battle was actually fought elsewhere.  Dr. Richmond’s account was controversial enough to make the front pages of both The Times and the Guardian newspapers on July 27, 1985. What had previously been private academic discussions became heated public debate.

Richmond’s argument was that the battle was not fought to the west of Ambien Hill, and that William Stanley did not intervene decisively from a position to the north. Williams placed both Stanleys to the north, illogical from any aspect. Richmond held the exact opposite: that William Stanley came up from a southwesterly direction to swing the day in Henry’s favour; and that the main battle took place on the plain to the south of Ambien Hill, between the Hill and the village of Dadlington. He also advanced the theory that Northumberland, one of Richard III’s chief commanders, was a traitor. Richmond seemed to think this would come as no surprise to students of the battle. However, the revised positioning of the battle site may prove Richmond’s work to be a statement that tradition does Northumberland an injustice. Unfortunately, Richmond apparently tried to be controversial. He made comments such as: "The manner of [Richard’s] death may account for the sympathy he otherwise unaccountably evokes" [emphasis added]. This naturally angered pro-Ricardian scholars; many of them attacked the article as a whole, thereby discarding some interesting and salient points.

Naturally, Dr. Williams led the attack by defending his own position. He wrote to The London Times that "Dr. Richmond makes it clear that he does not like the Battlefield Centre, but his comment and observations seem to be carrying pique a little too far."

In closing, Dr. Williams stated that "There is a good deal more to be said, but what is here supports my feeling that the Silly Season has started somewhat early." 

What makes Dr. Williams think he is right? Some of his theories are dubious, to say the least. Quoting the Croyland Chronicle, which states that King Richard’s army ‘was encamped at the Abbey of Mirival at a distance of about 8 miles from that town (Leicester),’ Dr. Williams concludes that, "Allowing for approximations this would place Richard’s Camp at about 9 miles from Leicester and about 5 miles from Merevale Abbey, which is at almost exactly the position of Ambien Hill". These estimated figures are highly convenient if one’s goal is to place the site on Ambien Hill. However, at a lecture given on August 31, 1985, Williams stated that Ambien is 6 miles from Merevale and 10 miles from Leicester. Regarding the campsite of Henry Tudor, self styled Earl of Richmond, Williams said: "Henry and his Army arrived at the final resting place before the Battle, their camp at Whitemoores. The camp itself…must have been…to the west of the intersection of Watling Street and the road to Shenton". According to his notes, the source for this assumption is a "local but ancient tradition". Is this the same tradition which had the inhabitants of Stoke Golding watching the battle from their church tower, that Williams dismissed in The Times article? With Dr. Williams, it would seem that even before dawn on the day of the battle, August 22, 1485, we are back in the realm of "common faith hath it..."!

It is worthwhile reiterating why Dr. Williams wrote his account, and asking some questions. Williams was hired to write about a battle that took place on and around Ambien Hill: the land now owned by the Leicester County Council.

Did the original historian withdraw because he could not make the evidence and facts fit this site?  

Does Dr. Williams defend his theories so often, and so vehemently, because of the vested interest now involved in the site?

The August 11, 1985 Sunday Telegraph called it "The Big Business of Bosworth". Defending Colin Richmond’s views, the Reverend Anthony Bardesley, Vicar of Stoke Golding and Dadlington, stated that the farmers of Dadlington were the first to be approached by the Council with a view to buying their land for a battlefield centre, but they had refused to sell. Odd behaviour for a council that "knew" the battle took place across the valley on Ambien Hill.

 

(Rick Archer's Note:  I have enclosed only one-third of Mr. Vale's original article.  He goes on to make many more valid points why the location of Ambion Hill was absurd.  Again, I encourage the readers to visit his web page

For our purposes, Mr. Vale has explained how the modern battle lines formed.   It seems that for the purposes of tourism and heritage, with the 500th anniversary looming, the time had come to commemorate the famous battle. Apparently due to the Fog of War, the idea that Ambion Hill was the location of the battle had more or less become accepted as fact. 

So the Leicestershire Council bought an expensive tract of land around Ambion Hill and set about building a Visitor's Center complete with stories and drawings of the battle.  They hired Dr. Daniel Williams from the University of Leicester to document the battle for their exhibits.  Somewhere along the way, Dr. Williams also became curator of the museum. 

Dr. Williams passed away in 1998.  Now I have no idea what sort of man Dr. Williams was, but even if he was as grouchy as he was portrayed to be, I still feel sorry for him.  His obituary says he was a popular professor at the University of Leicester.  His passion was research on the later Middle Ages.  Clearly the proximity of Leicester to the area where the famous battle was fought help spur his commitment to the history of the locality, and especially its associations with Richard III.

Dr. Williams was the historical adviser who worked with Leicestershire County Council's team to locate and develop as a tourist attraction the site of the Battle of Bosworth. His account of the battle site has been reprinted many times since its publication in 1973. A new, fuller edition was published in 1996, with a characteristically lively text and illustrations drawn from contemporary and later sources.

However, Williams' obituary made no mention of what had to be bitter heartache for the man to have his work constantly questioned.  No doubt much of his identity and reputation was wrapped up in the validity of his work.  It must have hurt him deeply to discover the same people who had hired him in the first place - the Leicestershire Council - had begun making discrete inquiries about buying land further to the south near Dadlington... "Odd behaviour for a council that 'knew' the battle took place across the valley on Ambien Hill.

 


Re-Discovery of the Battle Site

 

As we learned from Paul Vale, Leicestershire County Council set up the battlefield visitor centre at what was Ambion Hill Farm, in 1974.  The Council depended on the work of Leicester University historian Daniel Williams to establish the location and to interpret the battle for its murals inside the Visitor Center.

This is a photograph from the Bosworth Visitor Center.  It appears to be a large scale model of the battlefield.  Notice the men charging downwards... no doubt charging down from Ambion Hill!!  Very ironic. 

After the Council had gone to considerable cost and trouble to establish this state of the art tourist destination, the critics had a field day.  Indeed, throughout the Seventies, local historians challenged the Ambion Hill location for the battle, but to no avail.

Then came 1985.  On the eve of the 500th anniversary, historian Colin Richmond dropped his bombshell.  He had uncovered a document which said the battle had taken place at Dadlington Field. 

Richmond’s article threw a real damper over the celebrations. Talk about a party pooper!!  For the first time in 500 years, people began to notice that Dadlington possessed the only other hill besides Ambion in the entire county.  Uh oh. 

   

The supporters of the traditional site at Ambion Hill would not go down without a fight.  Two months later after Colin Richmond's 1985 article appeared, Daniel Williams, curator of the battlefield center, dismissed Richmond’s claims vehemently. 

For one thing, where was the marsh??  Dadlington was dry as a bone.  If the glove don't fit, you gotta acquit.  If the marsh ain't there, won't be no Renaissance Faire. 

However, now that the cat was out of the bag, people were very worried that Colin Richmond was right.  Indeed, as debate grew heated, Ambion Hill was being compared to Stoke Golding's Crown Hill.  Was it possible they had the wrong hill all along? 

One thing that bothered people was the conspicuous absence of artifacts at the base of Ambion Hill.  Why can't we find an arrowhead, a spear tip or a cannon ball or two?? 

Of course there weren't any artifacts at Crown Hill either, but they did have bones.  It seems there was a burial site for victims of the Bosworth Battle next to Crown Hill. 

This fact was very upsetting.  As we know, typically bodies are buried next to the battle site.  For example, there are 10,000 graves located 300 yards from Omaha Beach, site of the bloodiest D-Day battle.  If everyone died at Ambion Hill, then why cart the bodies two miles away to Crown Hill?   Wouldn't it be easier just to bury them in soft soil of the alleged marsh that was said to exist next to Ambion Hill?

Five years after Colin Richmond had opened the debate, in 1990, Peter Foss published a book that presented powerful arguments in favor of the Dadlington area.  People were particularly impressed with his maps.  Mr. Foss had drawn several superior maps of the battlefield to support his new theories of the location.  His book was so persuasive that public opinion now swung heavily in favor of Dadlington.

   
   

According to Peter Foss, the Ambion Hill theory was a piece of 18th-century nonsense proposed by a Birmingham paper manufacturer and amateur antiquary, William Hutton.

“He was no good as an antiquary, a dilettante really,” said Foss.

But Hutton was widely believed, even though his idea contradicted both near-contemporary accounts and simple logic.  After all, it hardly seems likely that Henry would have gained the crown by charging uphill.  Nevertheless, the people in charge of constructing the Bosworth memorial seeming bought his story as well. 

   

Foss discovered in local records that ‘Redmor’ lay ‘in the fields of Dadlington’, a key factor that reinforced Richmond’s argument.

Peter Foss was not satisfied with discrediting Ambion Hill, but was determined to locate the exact site.  Foss combined his expert knowledge of local topography, geology plus a close reading of the original sources to write The Field of Redemore.

This book, first published in 1990, was very influential in swinging the tide in favor of several farms in the vicinity of Dadlington as the more likely location of the battle.  Even though the exact spot had yet to be pinpointed, in 1995 the English Heritage was convinced enough to include the fields around Dadlington in its Register of Historic Battlefields. 

Unfortunately, there were still some die-hards on the Council who refused to accept the theory.  Their continuing stubborn attitude resulted in many heated debates.  Consequently, over the next decade, pressure mounted to begin a full-scale investigation. 

Finally the Council threw in the towel.  They commissioned an expensive, large scale project to find the true location of the battlefield.  In 2004, a landscape archeologist named Glenn Foard was hired to solve the mystery. 

 


The Battlefield Trust Project

 

Silver badge and lead shot pinpoint site of Battle of Bosworth

Written by Maev Kennedy
The Guardian

Friday, 19 February 2010

A thumbnail-sized silver gilt boar, still snarling ferociously after 500 years, and a little heap of battered lead balls have pinpointed the much disputed site of the Battle of Bosworth, and even the spot where Richard III was cut down by Tudor swords, becoming the last English king to die in battle.

Archaeologists made the announcement today close to the site where Henry Tudor was crowned Henry VII with the crown that had tumbled from the dying Richard's head. The archaeologists believe the boar badge, his personal emblem, was worn by someone who died at his side.

The crucial evidence, including badges of supporters of both kings, sword mounts, coins, and 28 lumps of roundshot, turned up in fields straddling Fen Lane in the Leicestershire parish of Upton. No historian had previously investigated the location, which is nearly two miles south-west of what had traditionally been regarded as the centre of the battle.

"It took us five years to locate it, but there it is, the Battle of Bosworth," said Glenn Foard, an expert on battlefield archaeology, who led the hunt.

A major find was the silver boar badge, the emblem of King Richard III.  It was found on the edge of a field called Fen Hole.

Dr. Foard:  "The most important find by far is the silver-gilt boar, which was Richard III’s own badge, given in large numbers to his supporters.  But this one is special, because it is silver-gilt. It was almost certainly worn by a knight in King Richard’s own retinue who rode with the King to his death in his last desperate cavalry charge. It was found right next to the site of Fen Hole - a small medieval marsh - and the King was killed when his horse became stuck in a mire."

In medieval times, Fen Hole was a marsh that played a crucial role in the battle by protecting the flank of Henry Tudor's much smaller army.  Finding this marsh proved pivotal in discovering the actual location of the battlefield.

Farmer Alf Oliver was astonished at the revelation, outside all the parishes which have vied for centuries to claim the honour, in his fields straddling Fenn Lane. The lane was once a Roman road linking Leicester and Atherstone, the towns from which Richard and Henry approached the battle.

One of the crucial finds, the largest of the roundshot nicknamed 'the holy grapefruit' by the archaeologists, was found just behind one of Oliver's barns.  The shot not only maps the arc of the battle, it proves that artillery was used by both sides in greater numbers than previously thought.

Frank Baldwin, chairman of the Battlefields Trust charity, was beyond elated to see the project come to fruition.

"The discovery of the actual site of the battle is just as important to us as Heinrich Schliemann discovering Troy."

 

Give credit to Colin Richmond for rocking the boat back in 1985.  Without Richmond’s earth-shattering History Today article, it seems unlikely that this battlefield would have never been found.  Even then, it had taken 25 more years to finally solve the mystery. 

Give further credit to Peter Foss, who participated in the painstaking work with keen interest.  It was his genius that had created the attitude shift necessary to lead to this survey.

I never doubted my original theory about where the correct site is.  I have a great knowledge of the area and it all made sense.

When I carried out my research they had none of the technology they have today but my work was very, very sound and I am delighted if it is now recognized as being right.

In 2004 that the Heritage Lottery Fund, the Battlefields Trust and Leicester County Council together secured funding for an archaeological project led by Glenn Foard to locate the battlefield site. 

The survey proved to be very expensive.  At a cost of 1.3 million pounds (1.6 million dollars), metal detectors were employed, topographical surveys were made and sophisticated soil analysis was conducted. 

Even then, it took four years to get results.  No doubt the slow progress caused much hand-wringing and worry. 

Starting in 2005, teams of men armed with metal detectors fanned out systematically across farm fields.  Part of the problem was that the battlefield turned out to be further west than originally predicted by Peter Ross.

The initial breakthrough came on March 1st, 2009.  That is when a small lead ball, 30mm in diameter, was discovered further west of Dadlington.  Once the first ball was found, it unlocked a treasure trove nearby. 

By December 2010, 33 lead projectiles had been uncovered, a greater number than from all other archaeological surveys on battlefields of the 15th century combined.  What an amazing find this had been. 

 
 


Dr. Glenn Foard's Story of the Search

   

The discovery took a lot longer than Dr. Foard could have ever imagined.  It had taken four long, frustrating years to locate the correct spot.  Part of the problem was that winter and rainy season limited the search to little over half of each year. 

Dr. Foard understood that without the convincing work of Peter Foss, this survey would never have been undertaken in the first place.  As one writer had put it, "The decision to hire Glenn Foard to conduct the search appears to vindicate the theories of local historian Peter Foss, who has been arguing the case since the 1980s – although not everyone in this rather bitchy subculture wishes to admit it."

Mr. Foss had every right to be pleased.  The decision to finally undertake a scientific survey of the area - an extremely costly undertaking - indicated that public opinion had swung heavily in favor.  He believed that the Dadlington area, not Ambion Hill, was where the battle took place.  Now all they had to do was find the darn thing. 

Unfortunately, in a perverse twist, Mr. Foss had done his work too well.  Unbeknownst to him (or anyone else), his prediction was off by about a mile.  Around Dadlington, there was one spot after another with ancient names such as 'Redemore' (place of the reeds) and 'Fennagh' that hinted the marsh - long since dried up - might have been located nearby.  These marsh-related names practically begged the researchers to have a look. 

The team led by Dr. Glenn Foard was understandably drawn to these fields around Dadlington, but they were to be disappointed time and time again.

This search turned out to be a major community effort.  On a sunny day, there might be several teams of volunteers - college students, retirees, civic clubs, church groups - scouring giant fields centimeter by centimeter for hours on end.  However, they never found anything!!  Frustrated, sometimes another team did the same area.  These Google Earth images barely begin to convey the vast amount of territory the search teams had to cover inch by inch.  This was a needle in a haystack job.

In his book,  A Battlefield Rediscovered, Dr. Foard explained the Foss hypothesis was all-powerful.  Assuming that the dried-up marsh areas near Dadlington were certain to offer the answer, the ground was turned upside down, but to no avail.
 

Stage One

"Throughout the investigation of the case presented by Peter Foss, the idea that the battle had been fought in Dadlington township appeared so strong that it distorted perceptions, particularly of the data for the distribution of wetland.

As a result, our search for peat deposits and battlefield archeology had been extended widely across Dadlington, even to the eastern side of the town, which lay far away from the concentration of places that had 'fen names'.

When we found Fen Meadow closer to Dadlington, we really thought we'd nailed it.  However soil surveys showed that the marsh had dried up in Roman times.  We were heartsick at the time.  
 

Stage Two

Yet, as we cast the net ever wider, new options began to appear.  The discovery of the peat deposit at Fen Hole in 2007 lifted our hopes and shifted attention westward. The evidence for wetland, heath, and moor was reviewed and the possibility that the battlefield lay beyond the western edge of Dadlington was considered."      Glenn Foard

For a variety of reasons, the westward search stopped at the eastern side of Lychgate Fish Farm, a lake in the lowlands.  That had been their agreed-upon cut-off point for the moment.  Little did they know that the battlefield site lay just beyond!

Frustrated that the wider search net had not panned out, Foard's team returned to the Foss hypothesis.  They decided to ask for a second opinion on the Fen Meadow possibility.  Still, an important idea had been sown in the back of Dr. Foard's mind.  It might still be Fen Hole... the back side was unexplored.

In the summer of 2008, I stood on Crown Hill with my colleague Richard Holmes.  We had spent the day touring the various locations that had already been investigated. 

Looking across the low-lying ground to the north and west which had provided the focus for our tour today, Richard asked a simple but perceptive question.

"Glenn, if you forget all the caveats, what is your gut feeling as to where the battlefield lies?"

My mind flashed directly to an earlier thought.  It must lie west of Fen Hole somewhere near the Roman Road. 
 

Stage Three

Winter came and we had to stop.  In the following year, 2009, we received confirmation that the wetland in Fen Meadow had been gone long before the 15th century.  It had likely been drained by Roman ditches long before the battle took place.  Dead end!!

After three years of extensive work testing the Foss hypothesis, the lack of convincing battle archeology forced us to finally reject the Foss interpretation.

This allowed Fen Hole to supplant Fen Meadow as the likely candidate for 'The Marsh'.  So we moved further west.  That is when we hit pay dirt in 2009.  

Glenn Foard

 

The discovery, when it eventually came, was a bit surreal because the successful team was surrounded by other search parties studying four wrong locations.  This odd sight was further testimony to the painful needle in a haystack approach necessary to locate the wandering battlefield. 

The new battle site belonged to farmer Alf Oliver at Fenn Lane Farm.  Mr. Oliver had never imagined his farm was 'The One'.  All the best guesses lay well beyond his farm.  So when the researchers came calling, he had assumed they were wasting their time.  Mr. Oliver admitted he was astonished at the artifact discoveries in his fields straddling Fen Lane.

After four years of rotten luck, Dr. Foard said it was about time they got lucky.  They barely missed adding another year!

“For more than a year we had hints we were close to the action but it was only in the last week of planned field work, in the last possible area, that the critical evidence was found.”

As improbable as this long search had been, there was a silver lining - the battlefield was perfectly preserved.  Due to the hidden location, no looting had ever taken place.  Now the archaeologists had a field day (small joke) exploring what had to feel to them like a veritable gold mine. 

The items discovered so far include artillery shot, handgun shot and fragments of swords, bridle fittings, spurs... plus three coins almost certainly lost by combatants during the battle.

As we know, it was the silver boar of Richard III that provided the definitive clue that this farm was the correct location.  The boar was very small, no bigger than a thumbnail.  It was muddy and battered, but still snarling in rage after 500 years.

The tiny 1.5-inch boar was found by Carl Dawson, a retired university lecturer and one of the many volunteers who helped scan hundreds of miles in the area with metal detectors.

Dawson had found the boar on the edge of a field called Fen Hole.  In other words, Carl Dawson had not just found an invaluable artifact, he had discovered the all-important marsh which in medieval times played a crucial role in the battle, protecting the flank of Henry Tudor's much smaller army.  

Although this marsh was drained centuries ago, Alf Oliver said it still gets boggy in that spot during the very wet summers.

One can imagine that somewhere in that ABCDEF complex is the spot where King Richard met his death. 

Another one of the crucial finds, a large cannonball nicknamed 'the holy grapefruit', was found behind one of Oliver’s barns.

It turns out that the road to Alf Oliver's farms has an interesting name.  It is known as 'Fenn Lane'. 
This road goes way back to antiquity.  Fenn Lane was the Roman road linking Leicester and AtherstoneLeicester and Atherstone were the towns from which Richard and Henry approached the eventual battle site.

The only roads back in those days were Roman roads... and there weren't very many of them.  Considering all the various marshes providing major obstacles to wagons and artillery, the armies would not cross the fields for fear of 'bogging down' into the muddy areas.  Therefore common sense dictates that both armies came straight down this road for the big bash.

In other words, there was considerable irony in the discovery that this farm straddled the Roman road.  Why didn't anyone think of researching this long road first? 

Furthermore, if researchers were looking for a 'Marsh', wouldn't logic suggest starting with sites along a road named 'Marsh Road'?  Unfortunately, there were no roads named 'Marsh Road'.  But there was a Fenn Lane.  And there was a Fen Hole

Do you know what a 'Fen' is??

Fen: a low and marshy or frequently flooded area of land.  "a flooded fen"

synonyms: marsh, marshland, salt marsh, fenland, wetland, bog, peat bog, swamp, swampland

• flat low-lying areas of eastern England, formerly marshland but largely drained for agriculture since the 17th century.


In hindsight, this road was a perfectly logical place for the armies to meet.  They discovered the battle took place on Fen (Marsh) Lane, the ONLY major road of the day right where it crossed Fen (Marsh) Hole. 

Of course there were a million extenuating factors that I have no knowledge of.  Nevertheless, one can imagine, this was a giant 'Duh, why didn't I think of that?' moment for the frustrated searchers. 

At some point, the history books will have to be rewritten.  Given this new knowledge, it becomes clear as day what took place in 1485.  Henry camped at Atherstone on the night prior to the battle.  That is when Henry had his audience with the non-committal Lord Stanley.  The next morning, Henry marched five miles down the road.  Richard came off of Ambion Hill and marched two miles down to the road to meet Henry.  They lined up their cannons and their men, then started the battle. 

According to the proclamation which the new King Henry VII issued after the battle, Richard was killed at “Sandeford in the county of Leicester”.

However, it has never been clear where Sandeford was, although chroniclers describe features such as a marsh that lay between the two armies.

The coup de grâce was the unearthing of that small silver gilt badge of a boar.  This had been Richard III’s insignia. 

Perhaps when the re-writing begins, 'Fen Hole' will be renamed 'Sandeford'. 

Here, then, was definitive proof that Colin Richmond and Peter Foss had been right all along.  Bosworth had not been fought at Ambion Hill, but rather on a plain 1.2 miles west of Dadlington. 

The revelations arose from an overlooked trough of rolling countryside two miles from the previously most widely accepted battlefield, below Ambion Hill.  Once they found the right spot, a bevy of archaeologists unveiled 22 primitive pistol bullets and cannonballs, alongside soil surveys and data from metal detection over 2.7 square miles. 

In particular, this 1485 battle heralded a major change in weaponry from previous encounters in the Wars of the Roses. 

One can assume the pictures of stalwart yeomen with bows and arrows are outdated by this find.  No doubt pictures of gunmen will need to be added to the walls of the Bosworth Center. 

"We are seeing here the origins of firepower which led to the British empire spanning the globe.  Only two bullets have been found in 27 years' of work at Towton (Britain's bloodiest-ever battle, 1461). We are sure that we will dig up plenty more here.Glenn Foard


The large scale of the ammunition haul has long-reaching implications for history.  The Battle of Bosworth's significance is thereby elevated from merely a national landmark to international importance. 

These artillery findings signal the exact date of an unanticipated technological shift from archery to gunfire.   From here on, as they say, warfare would never be the same. 

   

The Story of
Crown Hill
in
Stoke
Golding

 

   

In the Game of Thrones, there are winners and losers.   The same goes for the War of the Roses

By marrying Elizabeth of York, Henry Tudor took the Red Rose of Lancaster and the White Rose of York and created the Tudor Rose, a powerful symbol that portrayed the unification of the warring Houses into one kingdom.  Very clever. 

As I said earlier, the discovery of the correct battle site will require a major rewrite of the history books as more facts become clear.  For example, there is the tale of Richard's mighty army dashing down Ambion Hill, a charge that should have struck terror into Henry's army.  What underdog army is stupid enough to fight at the base of a hill?  

Then there is that very pretty myth where Thomas Lord Stanley finally made it to the battlefield, saw Richard’s battle crown on a bush, picked it up and placed it on Henry’s head. Then the whole field knelt to their new king with great reverence.  Very impressive. 

The idea of Henry being crowned by the dominant warlord Stanley with cheering men and Richard's crumpled body nearby does create a striking picture.  However, I have a suggestion: forget this image.  This is just one of the many stories that will need to be rewritten. 

The more likely account suggests Henry was crowned 'King' on Crown Hill in Stoke Golding, a small hamlet located a scant mile east of the Fenn Lane battlefield.  So why is it called 'Crown Hill'?  Common sense suggests it was renamed 'Crown Hill' because Henry was crowned there.

I searched long and hard for a picture of Crown Hill.  I am still looking.  The only picture I could find was taken from a canal boat taken one morning from nearby Ashby Canal.  (Bosworth, Dadlington, and Stoke Golding are all connected by 30-mile Ashby Canal which is wide enough for small riverboats to transit.) 

This riverboat picture of St. Margaret's Church suggests that the town of Stoke Golding is elevated on a sprawling rise that I can only assume is 'Crown Hill'.  I was looking for a bump on the horizon, but Crown Hill is probably more like an wide, flat, elevated plateau. 

If I am wrong about this, forgive me.  As they say, I am doing the best I can to solve all mysteries sitting at my computer in Houston, Texas.

In a way, I can understand the problem that Polydore Vergil faced when he was writing the history of the Battle of Bosworth from some library in London.  It was Vergil who gave the Battle of Bosworth its name because on a map, Market Bosworth was the closest town to Ambion Hill. 

Given that Market Bosworth is two miles north of Ambion Hill and Stoke Golding is two miles south of Ambion Hill, one has to wonder if the Battle of Bosworth will ever be renamed.   Given that Stoke Golding is one mile from Fenn Lane Farm and and Bosworth is 3.5 miles, Stoke Golding would seem to have a better claim to the name than Bosworth. 

Plus Stoke Golding has Crown Hill.  What does Market Bosworth have?  Henry Tudor never put one foot in Market Bosworth during the battle.

Stoke Golding claims to be the "Birthplace of the Tudor Dynasty".  As we can see from the sign, Stoke Golding has already started laying claim to Revisionist History.  Will future English schoolchildren read about the Battle of Stoke Golding?  Or will it be the Battle of Crown Hill?  Has a major battle ever been renamed?  One can only wonder.

Glenn Foard now believes the story of Henry being crowned in Stoke Golding is the correct one. 

"Our discovery suggests that the Crown Hill story is probably right, that Henry VII placed the crown on his head there after one of his soldiers found it in a thorn bush. We will never know, but it would have been the obvious place."   


Traditionally Stoke Golding is known as the village where King Henry VII was crowned after the Battle of Bosworth.  It has also recently been established that the battle took place much closer to the village than previously thought.

During the battle, the villagers of Stoke Golding climbed to the top of the tower of St. Margaret's Church to watch the battle in the distance.  One can still see the grooves on the window sills where the archers sharpened their arrows on the night before the battle.

Henry Tudor was victorious over Richard III at the Battle of Bosworth, which took place in the former marshland known as the Redemore between Stoke Golding, Dadlington, Shenton and Sutton Cheney.

After the battle, Henry's entourage retired to hilly ground near the village of Stoke Golding, no doubt to celebrate.

As the legend goes, Sir Reginald Bray, one of Henry Tudor's knights, had found Richard's crown in a hawthorn bush and brought it to the new king.  Lord Stanley then took it upon himself to create the impromptu coronation using an old table and chair from a local farmhouse.

Soon after, this area became known as Crown Hill and Crownhill Field

Following its moment in history, Stoke Golding returned to being a sleepy, farming village.  As the Industrial Revolution crept across England, small industries grew up including the making of socks, stockings and shoes.  Goods were brought to the village by the Ashby Canal or the railway which connected the village to Nuneaton, Coalville and the North. 

Unfortunately, most of the industry has now gone, although a small trading estate still remains alongside three pubs, a Post Office, a general shop and a small marina on the Ashby Canal.

One would imagine the Stoke Golding chamber of commerce is visualizing ways to capitalize on its proximity to Fenn Lane Farm at this very moment.  For example, the village sign proudly shows the two hawthorn bushes on Crown Hill where Richard III's crown was said to have been found following his death.  Market Bosworth better watch out.  

Incidentally, that boat ride along Ashby Canal looks like a lot of fun!!   That is where you would find me.

If you are interested in a visit, I suggest you read this delightful blog written by a day visitor to the area:  Saga Run to Battle

At the end of the day, they stop at the George and Dragon pub in Stoke Golding for a pint of ale.  You'll find me there too!

As one gentleman put it, there are few pubs called the White Boar, after Richard’s emblem, but dozens of Blue Boars, the emblem of Henry’s triumphant general, the Earl of Oxford.

Pub signs, like history, are written by the victors.

 

   


The Re-Interment of Richard III

   

This crowd is watching the funeral cortege of Richard III as it passes through their town on March 26, 2015.

There is a chance the public's perception of Richard may be changing.

A mock trial of Richard III, charged with the murder of the Princes in the Tower, was held in a full St James’ Church, Dadlington.

The jury (made up of the whole audience) found the King innocent of all charges.

Unfortunately, I do not know if this report is true or not. 

The story was said to be reported in The Guardian, but I was unable to find it.

   

On March 26, 2015, the remains of Richard III were reburied in a formal ceremony that stretched from the battlefield at Fenn Lane Farm to Dadlington and Stoke Golding all the way back to Leicester.

Although I wrote earlier about the 2012 discovery of Richard's body in Leicester, I was unaware at the time that there had been a 2015 service to rebury the King's remains.  Our story would not be complete without some mention. 

The ceremony began at noon that day.  A hearse carrying Richard's remains embarked from Leicester on a 30 mile roundtrip through the English countryside.  Along the way, the procession made stops at Fenn Lane Farm, Dadlington, Sutton-Cheney, the 'original battlefield' at Ambion Hill, Market Bosworth, and four other towns before returning to Leicester at 6 pm.

At that point, there was a service held for Richard and then his coffin was placed into its final resting place. 

Philippa Langley was the woman who spearheaded the campaign to find the king.  As we recall, Ms. Langley was walking through an empty parking lot in Leicester when she felt a chill and had a premonition that she was standing on Richard’s grave.  Ms. Langley as well as her comrade John Ashdown-Hill were on hand to witness the ceremony in the church.

Speaking afterwards, Ms. Langley said:

"I was thinking about all those years ago when I put the Looking for Richard project together and its ethos, its aim to give Richard III what he didn't get when he died in the field of battle.   I was thinking 'Today it is a job well done'. It really is a privilege.  We are laying Richard to rest with full dignity and honour."

Historian Dr. John Ashdown-Hill said:

"It was good to get the sort of reverence for Richard that he didn't really get in 1485.  Philippa and I and the Looking for Richard team had been saying all along this is what we wanted for him."

As for my personal feelings, I am far too removed from the details to pass judgment on Richard's alleged crimes, but I admit I feel a sense of sympathy for him.  Perhaps if I knew more I would feel differently. 

What I am certain of is that it was shameful the way Richard's body was mutilated.  Not only was Richard's dead body struck many times while he was on the ground, his naked body was thrown over a horse and carried to Leicester.  There his body lay on a table for days with only a small cloth to cover his private area while onlookers streamed past.  The worst indignity of all was throwing his body into a grave without even a coffin. 

One has to assume Richard was hated like a monster for his enemies to treat him so callously.  The picture tells the story.

I am very glad Richard received a proper burial.  I was touched by the respect shown by the British people for the reburial of their fallen King. 

I will now share the rest of this story in photographs.  

 

   
   

   
   

   
   
 
   


White Princess

   

Elizabeth of York was the eldest daughter of Queen Elizabeth Woodville.  If her mother was the White Queen, then by reason the younger Elizabeth would be the White Princess (incidentally, there is an April 2017 mini-series on the Starz cable channel titled the White Princess). 

As we know, Elizabeth of York would marry Henry Tudor and help found the Tudor dynasty.  In fact, the infamous Henry VIII was her son and the famous Queen Elizabeth was her granddaughter.

We have read biographies of one wicked person after another.  Therefore the description of Elizabeth of York as a decent, talented woman stands in pleasant contrast to all the darker personalities we have met.  Here is a brief excerpt from an article about Elizabeth by Alison Weir.

(Note: Alison Weir is Britain’s bestselling female historian, and the author of 20 books. She has written biographies of Mary, Queen of Scots, Elizabeth I and Henry VIII’s six wives.)


Elizabeth of York

She may not have sought the limelight as much as some of her contemporaries, but Elizabeth of York, mother of Henry VIII, was a Tudor of rare talent.

Elizabeth of York played an important role in the Wars of the Roses and the early Tudor story. Born in 1466, she was the eldest daughter of the Yorkist king Edward IV, sister of the princes in the Tower, and niece of Richard III, who had her and her siblings declared bastards so that he could claim the throne.

The probable murder of her brothers in the Tower of London in 1483 meant that, in the eyes of many, Elizabeth was the rightful queen of England. Richard III himself contemplated marrying her, but in 1485 Henry Tudor, who claimed to be the heir to the House of Lancaster and had sworn to marry Elizabeth, came from France with an army and defeated Richard at the battle of Bosworth. Thus was founded the Tudor dynasty. The marriage of King Henry VII and Elizabeth of York was hugely popular, for the union of the white rose of York and the red rose of Lancaster was seen as bringing peace after years of dynastic war.

Elizabeth was intelligent and beautiful. A Venetian report described her as “a very handsome woman of great ability, and in conduct very able,” beloved for her abundant “charity and humanity”. The humanist scholar Erasmus described her in one word: “brilliant”.

In 1613 Sir Francis Bacon asserted that Elizabeth was “beautiful, gentle and fruitful”.  As time passed, her husband Henry Tudor clearly grew to love, trust and respect Elizabeth, and they seem to have become emotionally close.  There survives good evidence that she loved him, and a moving account of how they comforted each other when their eldest son, Arthur, died.

Elizabeth performed her queenly role to perfection, understanding exactly what was required of her, and conforming seemingly effortlessly to the late medieval ideal of queenship, which constrained her to a role that was essentially decorous, symbolic and dynastic. She was beautiful, devout, fertile and kind – the traditional good queen.        
Alison Weir

   

There, isn't that sweet?  Finally, a positive opinion about one of our star players.

So I have a question.  Would your opinion of fair Elizabeth change in any way if I told you she engaged in voluntary incest with her uncle Richard III? 

The final episode of the White Queen mini-series had a naked Elizabeth clearly enjoying a consensual romantic tryst with Richard III.

Elizabeth Aida Feola reviewed Episode 10 of the White Queen series.  Ms. Feola had this to say about Elizabeth's dalliance with creepy Uncle Dick: 

The show capitalizes on a budding romance between Elizabeth of York and Richard III, started before Richard's wife Anne has died.   Richard says that there is no actual love between them but we quickly see that this is not true, as Elizabeth tells Richard, “I’m in love with you,” and they start kissing.

He loses his temper and throws her out of court when Anne dies, because her presence has caused rumors to circulate that the king has murdered his wife to make way for his niece, which hurts his honor.

   

The origin of this story is from the reign of James I, based on a letter which is now long gone, so we do not know exactly what was said and how much of it was up to interpretation. Because we don’t know what it said, we are left to guess.

If the standard of evidence we require becomes none that say it’s not true, we can make any statement we wish and stir up doubt.

For example, I can say that when Richard III was a baby, his father dropped him and that’s what caused his spine to curve. It’s something I made up, but since you can’t say beyond a shadow of a doubt that it didn’t happen, it quickly becomes accepted as truth.

In five years, students coming into college courses will ask their professors about how Richard was dropped as a baby. Enough years go by, and it’s accepted as fact.

Let me be very clear here- this liaison is not based on any evidence we actually have. This relationship is supposed to be romantic, but it’s disturbing. The papal dispensations which were granted so that cousins can marry are twisted to include uncles and nieces, as if this could have been a viable option. It wasn’t. Since the pope did not always grant dispensations to cousins, and I can’t imagine any pope supporting the marriage of two so closely related.

This reaches its climax when Elizabeth of York sneaks out of her mother’s house to Richard’s tent, to have sex with him. She returns and her mother smiles at her, as if she were pleased that they were now lovers. I have only one reaction to this: EW. It’s disgusting. 

Oedipus has nothing on this story.

 
   

For the record, I am not a prude by any stretch of the imagination.  And yet I found myself feeling unbearably squeamish as I watched this lovely young woman screw her uncle's brains out.  No reticence, no mixed feelings, no guilt, no second-thoughts.

As I watched this beauty writhing in passion underneath the arms of her uncle, it crossed my mind that this man was accused of murdering the girl's two brothers.  It was this man who took her brother Edward's rightful place on the throne.  It was this man who had declared her a bastard child and had slandered the reputation of both her father and her mother.  Plus Richard was her uncle.  Based on her mother's famous fertility, Elizabeth was risking getting pregnant with this incestuous liaison.  This was very dangerous game she was playing. 

So did this tempestuous Mambo #5 really take place or did someone make this up? 

The vast majority of the web sites that choose to comment all cast strong doubt on the likelihood of this relationship taking place.  If you wish to have a detailed explanation of the doubt, I recommend an excellent article written by Olga Hughes. 

Here is a direct quote from Ms. Hughes' article:

To gratify an incestuous passion…  While we have seen several entirely imaginary depictions of romantic love between uncle and niece in fiction recently, the one thing we can almost positively rule out is sexual intercourse.

If you prefer a more succinct explanation of doubt, our friend historian John Ashdown-Hill listed this 'relationship' as the third myth in his article '6 myths about Richard III'. 

If I had to place a bet, I would put my money on Myth #3 before Mambo #5.

   


Offended

   

While it is true that good, decent folks are hard to find anywhere in the vicinity of the events in the White Queen, I would like to say I was deeply offended by the sex scene between Richard and Elizabeth.  If it had been Burton and Taylor, fine, I can accept adultery, but incest is a much more serious matter.  This scene crossed so many social taboos I don't even know where to begin. 

Elizabeth Aida Feola made this comment:

If the standard of evidence we require becomes none that say it’s not true, we can make any statement we wish and stir up doubt.

For example, I can say that when Richard III was a baby, his father dropped him and that’s what caused his spine to curve. It’s something I made up, but since you can’t say beyond a shadow of a doubt that it didn’t happen, it quickly becomes accepted as truth.

In five years, students coming into college courses will ask their professors about how Richard was dropped as a baby. Enough years go by, and it’s accepted as fact.


I happen to completely agree with Ms. Feola's comment.  In fact, I was so impressed with it that I made up a fib in her honor.

Earlier when I wrote about the scoliosis of Richard III, I added this statement: 

It turns out that Richard had adolescent onset scoliosis, a curvature of the spine.  In other words, the deformity wasn’t present at birth, but developed after the age of ten.  This lends strong support to the story that George, Richard's older brother, pushed him down a flight of steps during a fight between the two boys.  The resulting injury likely triggered the onset. 


There is no story about George and Richard having a fight. I made it up.  Nor is there any story about how Richard was dropped as a baby.  Elizabeth Feola made it up.  But both scenarios are not only quite believable, I imagine someone will read my statement and actually buy it... and quite possibly as years go by, it will be accepted as fact. 

I can just see it now.  Some high school kid writing about Richard III for his term paper will quote me...

"Richard Archer, in his ground-breaking Internet article 'Brexity and Brevity', stated that when Richard III was 10, he was pushed down a flight of stairs by George, his older brother. Mr. Archer goes on to state that this injury caused the onset of adolescent scoliosis.   As we know, it was this scoliosis that caused Shakespeare to humiliate Richard for the ages with his so-called hunchback..."


So here is my question:  Did you catch it back when I fibbed?  Did you raise an eyebrow?  I hate to criticize my wonderful readers, but I seriously doubt anyone thought twice about it.  I know for a fact I would not have caught a throwaway comment like that.  It is very plausible that George was a bully.  It is also very plausible that someone dropped Richard as a baby.  Heck, one time I dropped my own daughter on her head when she a baby!  (She made it to graduate school, so I guess she's okay, but still...)

I personally believe that many of the people who watched the sex scene between Elizabeth and her uncle left the show believing that incident really took place.  That offends me because I don't think it happened and I don't think those kind of lies have any business being portrayed as historical fact.


Please read the following Internet exchange.  It details a conversation where one person is just as confused about the Elizabeth-Richard relationship as I was.

As one can guess, this is an exchange between a person who is taking the time to actually check out allegations that trouble her with a more knowledgeable friend.  How many people do that?  Right now the majority of the human race is overwhelmed with so many Internet choices that we have all become numb.  Fact-finding is a huge chore.  For one thing, who are we supposed to believe?  It took me two hours... TWO HOURS... to read up on the story of incest between Richard and Elizabeth.  I am retired, so I have that kind of time.  But the majority of people do not have that kind of free time (or the inclination) to check things out.

It is one thing to make a goofy statement that Richard got dropped on his head as a boy, but it is another thing entirely to write a TV scene where millions up TV viewers watch the future Queen of England commit incest with her villainous uncle.

This upsets me because there are a lot of people out there who do not question a damn thing they read or see on TV. 

 Enough years go by, and it’s accepted as fact...

When writing about history, why can't people do their best to tell the truth? 

I believe making stuff up can cause irreparable damage.  You don't believe me? 

William Hutton (1723-1815) famous book "The Battle of Bosworth" was published in 1788.  Although this book was widely criticized at the time, over time Hutton’s work became the account upon which most theories were based. 


 

 Enough years go by, and it’s accepted as fact...
 

"except that it involved... Elizabeth of York, who as the Queen of Henry VII was an important figure in English history."
 

 We can make any statement we wish and stir up doubt.


Did you know that Donald Trump believed his celebrity status gave him the right to touch the private area of any woman he found desirable without asking permission?

Did you know the rumors about Barack Obama being a secret Muslim are true?

Did you know that Barack Obama was born in Zimbabwe, not Kenya as previously thought?

Did you know that Hilary Clinton worked her way through law school as a call girl?

Did you know that Bill Clinton secretly executed dozens of witnesses to his many affairs?

Did you know that Benjamin Franklin participated in French sex orgies?

Did you know that Abraham Lincoln had sex with a freed slave in the Oval Office?

Did you know that Abraham Lincoln was secretly a vampire hunter?

Did you know that Thomas Jefferson fathered several children with a slave girl?

Did you know that Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Winston Churchill had a homosexual relationship?

Did you know that Eleanor Roosevelt was a lesbian?

Did you know that George Washington owned a plantation full of slaves?

Did you know that Frank Sinatra and John Kennedy had a three-way with Marilyn Monroe?

Did you know that at least one of these statements is actually true? 


For the record, I take no pleasure in repeating these rumors.  I have never met any of these people, so what gives me the right to say these things?  After all, I don't have the slightest idea as to the validity of these rumors.  But why should I feel guilty?  People pass ugly rumors like these on all the time and never think twice.

 We can make any statement we wish and stir up doubt.


As it stands, some people who write historical fiction think they can say anything they want with impunity.  I say that is wrong.

Although I believe that historical fiction has a duty to be factually accurate, there are many who disagree with me.  The Internet is filled with authors (who shall go nameless) who claim that historical novelists have the right to use "poetic license".

To some extent, I agree, especially where dialogue is concerned.  For example, I created dialogue at certain points in my article as an effective way to make a point.  In particular, I found this to be a useful technique when writing about the absurdity of Owen Tudor, the servant who bedded a Queen. 

But there has to be limits.  Just because it is 'legal' doesn't make it right or ethical.  I am good with 'speculation'.  However, I am not good when people assert things to be true... such as the incest between important historical figures.

By the way, 'Did you know that Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Winston Churchill had a homosexual relationship?'... I made that rumor up just now.  I could just as easily discussed the time that Richard Nixon molested his nubile teenage daughter Julie in her White House bedroom.  I made that one up as well.

What is stopping me from writing historical fiction about Winston Churchill (a man I admire, incidentally) and using 'poetic license'?
 

Winston Churchill came aboard the American heavy cruiser USS Augusta where Roosevelt and his staff were waiting. On first meeting, Churchill and Roosevelt were silent for a moment until Churchill said 'At long last, Mr. President', to which Roosevelt replied 'Glad to have you aboard, Mr. Churchill'.

The two men hit it off immediately.  With so much to discuss, they retreated to wood-paneled library where they could speak in secrecy.  Talking late into the night, a rapport developed that involved two men burdened with saving the Western civilization from a monster. 

Perhaps it was the bourbon, perhaps it was the pressure, but at this point Roosevelt placed his hand over Churchill's. 'It is getting late, Prime Minister, let us retire to bed.' 

'Where do you wish for me to sleep, Mr. President?'

'Will my bed be acceptable, Winston?  That way we can continue our conversation much further into the night...'

'Yes, Franklin, I concur.  We have so much to talk about...'


Before some school kid quotes me on that paragraph, let me reassure everyone that I have no knowledge that any such event ever took place.  But let me also add it was really easy to write that paragraph.  Isn't 'poetic license' fun? 

I contend that my imaginary story about Churchill and FDR is NO DIFFERENT than the story about incest between Richard and Elizabeth. 

The only thing stopping me from writing historical fiction lies is integrity and discretion.  Without those qualities, in the hands of an unethical hack, 'Poetic license' becomes an excuse to slander an otherwise remarkable historical figures!

An intelligent writer should be able to have their cake and eat it too.  Lawyers have a term... 'admissibility'.  This term deals with the rules regarding admission of evidence.  The same should hold for historical fiction.

Take, for example, this issue regarding incest between Elizabeth and her uncle.  There is little proof that it took place.  Nevertheless, someone took it upon themselves to portray on screen that this forbidden hookup took place.  I can attest the shock and disgust has yet to wear off in my brain.  Now I am intelligent enough out to check it out and so are you... but there are many people who swallowed the scene hook, line, and sinker.

Whatever happened to taste?  A more delicate way to introduce this idea would be to have a debate.  Let two characters close to the situation argue and speculate as to what might be going on between Elizabeth and Richard.  This way they can raise the 'possibility' without necessarily condemning.  I think writers and portrayers of historical fiction have an obligation to inform their readers in some way or another when they decide to stretch things a little too far.  Try using some 'discretion'. 

There are some who say that 'gossip' is the most powerful force on earth after gravity and the atom.  Others say a lie makes it halfway around the world before truth can put it pants on.  I could tell half the people on earth that they are too gullible and they would believe me.  It all needs to stop.  There is too much false information in the world to begin with for unethical writers to spread even more.

In particular, as for Elizabeth of York, unless the writer and director had undeniable proof, whoever decided to slander the Queen of England should be ashamed of themselves.

I have a suggestion.  From now on, anyone convicted of spreading false historical fiction shall have their names slandered upon their passing.  That way, if there turns out to be an afterlife, they can see what it feels like having their own reputation smeared.

Poetic justice for poetic license.

   


What's Next for the Bosworth Battlefield?

   

Well, thank goodness there are some people with inquiring minds.  Thanks to the efforts of those who challenged the brainwashed thinking of the men who placed the battle site at Ambion Hill, they finally got it right.  I imagine the success of Dr. Foard in locating the correct battlefield at Fenn Lane Farm had a direct effect on Philippa Langley's decision to pursue her 'Looking for Richard' project.  The dual discoveries of the correct battlefield and the correct burial site make for one of the most remarkable stories I have ever come across.  So now the question is: What happens next?? 

England is behind the times in showing proper acknowledgment to its historic battlefields.  American battlefields are carefully preserved and properly displayed, yet England's great battlefields are hardly covered at allRoutine old cottages have statutory protection, where the places were the nation’s history was decided are good spots for new highways.

Britain is covered with such sites, yet they are largely ignored.  Although there is a promised government bill on this issue, it has not materialized.  There are only two other battle centres in England comparable to Bosworth:  Hastings (1066) and Shrewsbury (1403).

I found a curious anecdote regarding Leicestershire Council anxieties during the search.

One theory was that the battle might have been fought much farther away, even as far as Warwickshire.  Mr. White, councilor in charge of building the centre, was particularly relieved. “My leader said: ‘Whitey, if it turns out to be in Warwickshire, you’re sacked.’”

Now after four years of considerable uncertainty, with the discovery of Fenn Lane, they have resigned themselves to a rewrite of interpretative signboards and modification of their exhibits. Otherwise, they are putting a brave face on the situation. “You wouldn’t want a centre slap-bang in the middle of a battlefield,” said curator Richard Knox. “It would ruin the archaeology and the ambience of it.”

   


Before we continue, a long time ago I asked you to find Waldo and memorize a word.  Do you remember what that word was? 

   

As Dr. Glenn Foard kept edging further and further to the west, one can imagine the fear preying on the minds of the people who depend on the Bosworth Battlefield for a living.  There was an air of resignation in these people.  Back in 2009, it was a foregone conclusion that Ambion Hill was not the real battlefield.  Now the question was just how far away the correct battlefield would be. 

It was clear that Dr. Foard was going to find this battlefield eventually.  But every time Foard moved one farm further to the west, the increasing distance began to grate on the nerves of the Bosworth Battlefield dependents. 

     

Finally Dr. Foard struck pay dirt at Fenn Lane Farm.  Talk about lucky!

It wasn't exactly 'close' to Ambion Hill, but at least it was within viewing distance.  The Leicester County Council had dodged a huge bullet.  The news could have been so much worse.

There seem to be plans to keep the Visitor Center where it is and let people stroll to the new location of the battle.  In the long run, the weird publicity might even prove good for business.

The Leicestershire County Council is negotiating with landowners to gain full public access to the area

In fact, the Bosworth Battlefield Heritage Centre told the BBC that the new site is "within walking distance" of the Bosworth Visitor Center. 

'Walking distance'? 

Were these people serious?  Did they really believe 'Walk' was the solution to their problem? 

     
   
   

I loved this quote:

Officials are planning to rewrite the interpretative signboards and modify part of the exhibition. Otherwise, they are putting a brave face on the situation.

“You wouldn’t want a centre slap-bang in the middle of a battlefield,” said curator Richard Knox. “It would ruin the archaeology and the ambience of it.”


Mr. Know was referring to 'interpretive signboards' such as this one.  This is a photograph taken of a sign that is part of the Bosworth Battlefield walkway.  As one can see, people are encouraged to walk for one hour around a one and a half mile trail to look at signs tell the story of the battle.

Mr. Knox is surely in a bad spot.  Can you imagine how utterly embarrassing it is to represent a battlefield that doesn't exist??   Once upon a time they wanted to be the next Stonehenge.  Now they just want to stay relevant.  Never before has such a weird challenge presented itself.

In a way, I feel for the Bosworth people such as Mr. Knox.  They have created all these wonderful explanation signs, but now they are faced with the fact that much of it is wrong. 

For example, there are pictures of Richard charging down the hill.  That is nonsense.  We now know the battle was fought on a plain.  There are pictures of Richard dying in a marsh at the foot of the hill.  Complete fiction.  There was no hill. 

Their elaborate 1.5 mile Walking Trail is obsolete.  It must seem very unfair, but harsh reality dictates that the History of the battle will have to be re-written.  However, that's the easy part.

The hard part is that the Walking Trail will need to move to the new site. 

   

If the Walking Trail moves to the new site, now we are looking at three walks... one walk to get from the old site to the new site, a long walk around the new site, and then another walk back to the old site.  That sounds like a lot of walking. 

Now Mr. Knox is correct about one thing... no one wants the Visitor Center in the middle of the battle field.

However, there is a concept known as 'Reasonable Distance'. 

Based on my experience, 'Reasonable Distance' is about 100 yards for American tourists who believe the length of a football field is God's idea of a healthy walk.  Their absolute upper limit is 300 yards.  Anything further than that is out of the question. 

So what makes me an authority??  Throughout my article, I have freely admitted I know little about English history.  However, if there is one thing I am an authority on, that is walking. 

My wife and I walk all the time on our cruise trips.  I love history and I have found the most fun way to learn history is to travel and visit other countries.  Unfortunately, not much is learned from a bus.  My wife Marla and I have learned it is much better to Walk.  That way we can take pictures, study maps, ask questions, and read whatever literature is available. 

Our cruise trip to England and the British Isles will be our 40th cruise trip.  After 40 cruise trips, I have learned that the average vacationer does not like to walk.  In fact, the less they walk, the happier they are. 

   

You might be curious what this picture represents. 

That is a picture of Cozumel, Mexico, the most successful tourist trap in the Western hemisphere.  The entire scheme is absolutely brilliant.  Every day 6 to 8 cruise ships dock at 3 different piers.

20,000-40,000 passengers have no choice but to enter a maze-like village of shops and bars.  Yes, there is an exit, but the only way to find it is to ask for help.  I have found that is when no one seems to remember how to speak comprehensible English.

Most people don't bother asking for help.  They wander around aimlessly assuming they will find the exit sooner or later.  For some reason, they can't seem to find a way out of the village. 

Pretty soon they get hot, thirsty and hungry.  They are getting really tired of looking for the way out.  They have wasted over an hour and now time is running out.  So they give up and buy a bunch of tee-shirts just to prove they visited Mexico.  Then they hit the nearest bar and get smashed on margaritas and chips. 

Drunk out of their minds, these people can still get back to their ship because their ship is bigger than most football stadiums.  A convenient horn blast tells the bartenders when to shove people out of the bar.  Fortunately, the tourists don't have far to go. 

The village is less than 300 yards from each cruise ship.   And you know what?  Every trip I take to Cozumel, someone has the nerve to complain the walk was way too far. 

300 yards is the absolute limit.  I kid you not.

   
   

The Distance from Ambion Hill to Fenn Lane Farm


So I imagine you are beginning to wonder what the walking distance might be from Ambion Hill to Fenn Lane Farm. 

Funny you should ask.

Through the magic of Google Earth, I measured the distance. 

Let's see how far it is. 

 

   

The answer is four miles. 

If the Bosworth Battlefield Heritage Centre thinks the general public is willing to walk a four-mile round trip, they are out of their minds.   This is much too far for the elderly and this is much too far for children.  Even for young adults and middle-aged people, four miles is still much too far if they have their family with them.   

For that matter, what about time constraints?  An athletic pace gets this done in 45 minutes.  Normal people closer to an hour.  Round trip becomes 90 minutes to two hours.  Budget another hour to walk around the new Fenn Lane Farm Walking Trail.

How many vacationers have the luxury of investing two to three hours in a round trip hike from the incorrect battlefield to the correct battlefield, then back again??   My guess is they would whisper the unthinkable... 'Why not put the museum and the parking lot where it belongs at Fenn Lane Farm??'

Obviously the English are made of hardier stuff than your average Caribbean cruiser, but I daresay at the minimum they will back off from this walking strategy soon enough.

I predict the future Battle of Bosworth experience will come complete with shuttles or even a mini-train.  Make it a Disney ride and let people have some fun out of it.  How about a roller coaster.  Or a two-mile zip line? 

Or better yet, maybe they will ferry people back and forth on the Ashby Canal.  The cruise people would like that.

   


The Reputation of Richard III

   

On the Negative Side...

Rick Archer's Note:  I don't know much about English politics, but I gather that The Guardian likes to be controversial.  This magazine/newspaper had some pretty mean things to say about the Royalty... and Richard as well.    

Britain mourns a Monster
– Because he was a King.

Richard III’s burial was absurd!

Polly Toynbee
The Guardian

   

Surely it’s time to make King Richard pay his dues. We’re often told the royals are good for the country because they raise our international profile and encourage tourism – so we should be wringing every penny out of Richard III.  We’re missing a trick here. Several tricks in fact.  For starters, we’re not even burying him during tourist season.  After 500 years, surely he can wait another month or two.

Or better yet, why rebury him just once? Why not make it a regular event, like the changing of the guard?  If it is true the Royals improve tourism, then let's put Richard to good use.  Dig Richard up at the start of each month, hide the individual bones at random beauty spots around the countryside, and turn it into a giant treasure hunt for tourists.  Follow the clues on an accompanying app; see if you can locate his skull. Congratulations!  It was hidden in a bin behind Oblivion at Alton Towers. Now track down his elbow. Then his pelvis.  First to find six bones receives 20% off their B&B bill and a family-size jar of Marmite. 

Pinch yourself hard, very hard. This must be anti-royalist satire?  No, we’re wide awake as the nation mourns its most reviled monster of a king.  Depicted as a deformed hunchback, murderer of his own nephews, and a sinister, evil usurper, little has transpired over the past 500 years to make anyone change their mind.  Never was adulation of monarchy taken to such transcendently absurd heights.

It’s comical, but tragic too, as a reminder of the indignity the British accept in their accustomed role as subjects, not citizens. Here are church, royalty and army revering a child-killing, wife-slaughtering tyrant who would be on trial if he weren’t 500 years dead. This is the madness of monarchy, where these bones are honoured for their divine royalty, whether by accident of birth or by brutal seizure of the crown. Richard, whose death ended the tribal Wars of the Roses, is a good symbol of the “bloodline” fantasy. Who knows how many of our kings were even born legitimate?  Our island story is one of royal usurpage and regicide, with imported French, Dutch and German monarchs who didn’t speak a word of English.  

The puzzle is that this fantasy of anointed genes persists today.

 
   

On the Positive Side...

   
Rick Archer's Note:  William Rehnquist was once Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court.  They probably could not have found a more prestigious man to preside over the mock trial of Richard the Third.  (link)

A three-judge panel chaired by William Rehnquist found King Richard III not guilty of the murder of his nephews, the famous “Princes in the Tower.”

The Trial of Richard III” took place before an overflow crowd as part of the Rehnquist’s four-day visit to the Indiana University School of Law in Bloomington.  The trial featured appellate-style briefs and arguments by students and graduates of the Law School.  The date was October 26, 1996.

   
Richard III was represented by John Walda, also a graduate of the Law School, a partner in the Fort Wayne, Indiana, law firm of Barrett & McNagny, and President of the Indiana University Board of Trustees.

The defense sought to cast doubt on the prosecution’s evidence and to show that others, such as Henry VII who killed Richard III on Bosworth field, had a better motive and opportunity to commit the crime. 

In addition, Walda noted that the case took place in the eyes of “500 years of pretrial publicity”. 

Relying on William Shakespeare’s plays as to any element of the state’s case is a little like relying on Oliver Stone’s movie to prove the Kennedy assassination. At least Stone was alive to witness the events!”       (John Walda)

   

Delivering his opinion at the conclusion of the mock trial, Chief Justice William Rehnquist found that there was too much “ambiguity as to when the murders took place” to convict Richard III. “There is a sufficient lapse of time even considering the evidence most favorable to the State as to put it beyond the time when Richard III was in control of things and into the time when Henry VII was in control of things,” the Chief Justice said.

The Chief Justice also found that the “contemporary accounts,” which tend to incriminate Richard III, “are not worth much in a trial of this sort . . . because they are not made with first hand knowledge; they are kind of rumor on rumor . . . .”

   

The three judge panel ruled Richard III not guilty in a split decision. Joining Judge Rehnquist in the not guilty verdict was moot court judge, law school professor, Susan Hoffman Williams.

The third judge, Indiana state Chief Justice Randall Shepard, dissented with a guilty verdict.

Shepard found that “as a matter of historical judgment,” many of the contemporary writers had “access to actual participants in the drama of the time.”

Chief Justice Shepard also noted that “the defense has had 500 years to find evidence, actual evidence, as opposed to speculation, that somebody other than Richard III was responsible for these deaths and by and large there isn’t any.” 

As a result, Chief Justice Shepard said,

“This leads me to the conclusion that Richard the Third is guilty of murder.

Guilty, guilty, guilty.”

 

 

On the Open-Minded Side...

 

Rick Archer's Note:  Josephine Tey was the pseudonym used by Elizabeth MacKintosh (1896–1952), a Scottish author best known for her mystery novels. 

Ms. Tey's hero is Scotland Yard Inspector Alan Grant, a sharp sleuth in the tradition of Sherlock Holmes.  Grant had his finest hour in The Daughter of Time, written in 1951.

The story begins with Grant laid up in hospital with an injured spine.  Bored out of his mind, Grant becomes intrigued with the mystery of the disappearance of the princes in the tower, supposedly murdered by their wicked Uncle, King Richard III.  Curious about the monstrous crouchback of Tudor myth and Shakespearean literature, Grant decides to solve the mystery.

Not once does he leave his bed.  Instead, Grant has his friends bring him reference books and contemporary documents so that he can puzzle out the clues.  Working deliberately, he determines whether King Richard III of England murdered his nephews, the Princes in the Tower.  Grant comes to the firm conclusion that King Richard was totally innocent of the death of the Princes.

The fight against injustice was a prominent theme in Josephine Tey's works.  Here in modern times, there is a sentiment that perhaps Richard got a bad rap.  What we do not know is where that sentiment came from.  Give Josephine Tey the credit. 

When Ms. Tey's book came out, it flew straight in the face of powerful public sentiment against Richard.  All by herself, Ms. Tey was able to reverse five centuries of unanimous public censure.

After her book appeared, not everyone agreed with her... but they thought about it!   The greatest testimony to the brilliance of this work is that for the very first time many eyes were now open to the possibility that Richard might actually be innocent.

In 1990, Daughter of Time was selected by the British Crime Writers' Association as the greatest mystery novel of all time.  It stands at #4 by the Mystery Writers of America. 

It was a remarkable novel because it made an entire country re-examine its previous attitude.  It is said that the publication of this mind-bending book led to the formation of The Richard III Society.  Thanks in large part to The Daughter of Time, much scholarly debate has been done since in an effort to present a more balanced account of Richard, the last Plantaganet king. 

I would like to add that without this book, questions about the battlefield location and Richard's burial site would probably never have been asked. 

 

The Final Word

 

 

Rick Archer's Note: 

We have come to the end of our saga.  What a long strange trip it has been. 

At the outset, I promised Brevity, but I failed miserably.  Oh well, let's face it, I got hooked.   

According to that map, there were 15 major battles fought during the 32 year Wars of the Roses (1455-1487).  Of those 15 battles, I wrote an account of 8.  Looking on the bright side, I could have written about all 15 of the Battles.  So I guess I did show some restraint. 

During my research, I found a soul mate.  Her name is Jo Walton.  Ms. Walton is an award-winning science fiction writer who is also Josephine Tey's biggest fan. 

Here is what Ms. Walton said about The Daughter of Time

This is a book about research.  It’s the story of chasing Richard through secondary sources and primary sources and putting together the clues to discover who really killed the Princes in the Tower.  Grant doesn’t get out of bed; a subordinate, a friend, the nurses and a research assistant bring him books and information.

He starts from a portrait of Richard and works outwards from there. It’s either a very faithful example of how writers do research or I learned how to do research from reading this (I genuinely wouldn’t care to guess which.)

The book isn’t perfect. There’s far too much of Grant’s uncanny ability to read character from faces - which one could argue makes it fantasy. There’s also far too much of the Velikovskyan style of argument that goes “The facts are A. Somebody did B. How could anybody possibly do B when faced with A? We must therefore have the facts wrong.”

I find no difficulty imagining people who do B. Maybe I just have a wider imagination, or maybe I get out more.

I have not independently investigated the argument that Richard didn’t kill the Princes in the Tower. It’s not my period of history. I’ve heard people argue that Tey is cheating and leaving things out. I honestly couldn’t say.

I find Tey’s Richard and Shakespeare’s Richard to be interesting fictional characters, and the same goes for John M. Ford’s Richard, who did kill the princes in the tower but only because they were vampires… and I think the relationship of all three of these constructs to the bones they dug up in Leicester is symbolic rather than actual.

But you cannot help thinking about it when you read The Daughter of Time because the real subject of this book is how a lot of received history is sheer bunk. 

At the very least, it causes the reader to interrogate history instead of accepting it!



 


   


"At the very least, it causes the reader to interrogate history instead of accepting it..."  (Jo Walton)

   

Sometimes other people say things that I wish I had said. 

Jo Walton's comment is at the top of my list.

Elizabeth Aida Feola's comment is up there too:

"We can make any statement we wish and stir up doubt.  In five years, students coming into college courses will ask their professors about how Richard was dropped as a baby. Enough years go by, and it’s accepted as fact."

   

John Walda, the man who represented Richard III in the mock trial presided over by Judge Rehnquist, also made a comment that I wish I had said. 

Mr. Walda noted that the mock trial took place in the eyes of “500 years of pretrial publicity”.

Relying on William Shakespeare’s plays as to any element of the state’s case is a little like relying on Oliver Stone’s movie to prove the Kennedy assassination.  At least Oliver Stone was alive to witness the events!

For my younger readers, Mr. Walda is referring to JFK, one of the most controversial movies of all time.  John F. Kennedy's assassination remains the great unsolved American mystery.

The anger came because Oliver Stone did a masterful job of selling a rather implausible explanation.  Mr. Stone was taken to task for twisting the facts. 

I do not know what was the truth, but I will admit to feeling goosebumps while I watched the conclusion.

   

At the time of its release, the JFK movie opened up a bitter fight, probably just as heated as the argument over Josephine Tey's Daughter of Time when it was released back in 1951.  If we stop and think about it, the controversy surrounding the murder of John Kennedy is similar in many ways to the controversy surrounding the murder of the Princes in the Tower. 

People accused Oliver Stone of manipulating the facts, which is why lawyer John Walda compared the JFK movie to Shakespeare's Richard III in the first place.  Both works of art were accused of spreading false information and distorting the truth.

I am ready to say the same thing about White Queen.  I resent this series for distorting the truth.

Recently I took Marla, my wife, out to dinner.  She smiled and asked me to tell me a little bit about what I had writing lately. 

I replied that I had been writing about the War of the Roses.

Marla: "You mean that TV show we watched last year with that awful woman the Red Queen?"

I grinned.  "Yeah, that's it, Margaret Beaufort."

As a bit of background, Marla could not stand the Margaret Beaufort character.  During the ten-week series, Margaret was convinced it was God's Will for her son Henry to become king. Strident, whining, holier-than-thou, anytime Margaret wanted something, she would fall to her knees and pray, then beg God to show her a sign.  Instantly the sun would come out from behind a cloud and Margaret would go nuts.  She would throw herself to the ground and begin crying with ecstasy.  "Oh, thank you, God, thank you!  Thank you for answering my prayers!"

Marla absolutely could not stand the woman.  She hissed every time Margaret appeared.  Nor did I blame her.  Amanda Hale's performance as the Red Queen was wildly over the top. 

That said, I have a secret to share (psst... don't tell Marla!).  Personally, I enjoyed watching Amanda Hale.  What an amazing actress!  I didn't like her character in the White Queen series, but I appreciated the job Ms. Hale did.

   

Marla: "Wasn't Margaret Beaufort the one who murdered the Princes in the Tower?"

Rick: "Yes, but after the research I have done, it seems unlikely that Margaret was behind the disappearance of the two boys."

Marla: "You're kidding?  I remember Margaret's husband strongly suggesting those two boys be eliminated.  If so, her own son Henry would have two less people in front of him in line for the crown."

Rick: "I know, that's what the show led us to believe.  I was just as surprised as you were when I learned differently.  But some priest had the two boys declared illegitimate.  That's how Richard was able to made king without much of a fuss.  If the boys were illegitimate for Richard, then they would be illegitimate for Henry as well.  The TV show got it all wrong.  Margaret did not murder those boys."

Marla: "I watched that entire show convinced that pious Margaret was not only a murderer, but the biggest hypocrite to ever walk the planet. Why would the White Queen lie about the facts so boldly?"

Rick: "There are reviewers who claim the White Queen is methadone for Game of Thrones junkies.  It doesn't actually get you high, but it keeps you watching the tube while you're waiting for the new season. 

         Making up whoppers is good for ratings.  My guess is the TV writers don't believe White Queen is sensational enough.  They decided it would improve the script to make Margaret the murderer.  That way they could let Elizabeth, the White Queen, create an epic storm to retaliate against Margaret by ruining Henry's rebellion.  Why let the truth get in the way of a good story?  Hollywood has been doing this for a long time, but Shakespeare did it first."

Marla: "Why not just tell the truth?  The story was compelling enough without having to resort to fiction."

Rick: "I could not agree more.  I do not think it is ethical to destroy Margaret Beaufort's reputation just make the TV show more compelling, but that small point doesn't seem to stop people."

 

   

And now it is time for Rick's Soapbox. 

There are a dozen different news sources on TV that slant each story in the direction they believe their target audience wishes to receive the news.  Flip the channel and you will receive a totally different interpretation of each news story.  But why bother flipping the channel? If a person sticks to one news source, they can spend the rest of their lives being fed a biased, one-sided reality that will never deviate from their preferred political mindset. 

If there is one thing I learned in researching the story of Richard III, it is that people lie.  There are some people... media, script writers, bloggers, historical fiction writers, you name it... who lie or twist the facts all the time if they think it will be to their benefit. 

Personally, I have no idea whether Richard III was innocent or not.  But I do know he was the victim of the worst smear campaign in history.  I have no whether Elizabeth slept with her uncle or not.  But I can't help feeling like she was unnecessarily smeared.

I contend that just because we have the power to pass on dubious rumors does not make it right.  Is Reality really that boring?  Personally, I think the War of the Roses is the craziest story I have ever come across and yet people feel the need to embellish it with incest.  Why don't we stop writing historical fiction and try writing historical truth instead?

As my final word, today we are immersed in times dominated by Fake News and Alternative Facts.  Facebook has become riddled with falsehoods.  People can say anything they want on Twitter with complete impunity... and people will believe it because they want to.  The same goes for the Internet. 

   

The effortlessly-transmitted disease of gullibility is pandemic.  The only cure known to man is a built-in bullshit detector.  Buy one on Amazon.  However, if you can't afford one, try developing a home-made version instead.  It is called 'skepticism'. 

 If you read or hear something that doesn't feel right, be sure to check it out first before passing it on.  Nothing irritates me more than people who preach their own reality without bothering to question the source or the sense of it. 

In the words of Jo Walton... do not simply accept what you read or hear, interrogate it! 

Question everything.  Otherwise one day you will discover you have been wandering around with blinders on. 

As for me, the next thing I am going to do is order a copy of The Daughter of Time for my Kindle.  I absolutely cannot wait!!

Thank you for reading,

Rick Archer
February 2017

 

   

 

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