Most of the blog so far has been pretty heavy. Don’t get me wrong, that’s kind of the point. I need an outlet for my intense musings on the big questions and love discussing such epic matters with others.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun as well. To that effect, I’ve compiled a list of 10 questions I would love to put to our Royal forebears but, sadly will never be able to.
Here we go:
Elizabeth I – “You were the virgin Queen – I get that. But what does that actually mean…?”
Richard III – “Come on now…own up. How close to the truth was Thomas More?”
Queen Anne – “If you knew you were going to be the last monarch to veto an act of Parliament, would you have vetoed a few more?”
Katherine Parr – “Was Seymour worth the wait?”
Mary I – “In hindsight, might it have been worth taking a chill pill?”
Henry VIII – “Catherine Howard. Adultery. How did you not see that one coming?”
Margaret Beaufort – “Did you really have a vision telling you to marry Edmund Tudor?”
Princess Beatrice – “What was the juiciest thing you cut out of Queen Victoria’s diary?”
Henry VI – “Do you think Edward was your boy?”
Richard II – “Seriously. Dude. What happened there?”
Okay geeks over to you…what questions would YOU like to put to the Royals of Britain’s past.
When Alison Weir’s biography of Elizabeth of York was published in late 2013, it was hailed as helping to rescue the memory of a ‘forgotten Queen.’
I never thought that was entirely fair. I had certainly been taught about Henry VIII’s mother before I reached secondary education and I struggle to imagine that my school had a particularly outlandish curriculum. But, it’s true to say that the image that comes down to us is deeply unsatisfying.
The almost dowdy mother. The unthinkingly loyal consort. The saintly persona. The woman devoid of sexuality and of sensuality. Could such a person have really produced the rumbustious Henry VIII, the chaotic Queen Margaret of Scotland and the daring Mary Tudor?
This is perhaps why some recent historians and fiction writers have gone too far in readdressing the balance. Here the picture doesn’t fit either. The White Princess. The fearsome loyalist to the House of York. The woman who dreams of lost brothers returning from across the sea. The courageous Queen who fights against the power of her miserly husband and authoritarian mother-in-law. Surely there’s a balance to be struck?
As ever, that is exactly what Weir achieves. By revisiting the contemporary sources, she presents a reconstruction of the Queen which is well-researched, realistic and entirely human. We start to get a glimpse – because perhaps it can only ever be a glimpse – as to what it might have actually been like to be in the presence of this fifteenth century matriarch.
To an extent, the book is counter-revisionist. It reasserts Elizabeth’s genuine closeness to Henry VII (which many have questioned) and good relationship with his mother Margaret Beaufort. It is clear that she was one of the key players that threw herself into making project Tudor a success. She may not, as some have suggested, have explosively fallen out with her own mother – but she knew that her focus was the future.
No reader will be left with the impression that Elizabeth of York was a silent figure in the background. The book is full of examples of where she used her influence, particularly for the good of others, and explores the impact she had on her own children to whom she was perhaps untypically close.
Weir also lets us have a bit of fun. We explore intriguing theories that suggest the young Princess may have cosied up to uncle Richard III more than we might think decent. But she also reminds us exactly which theories we do and do not have evidence to support. While I’m not entirely sure I believe in the genuineness of Elizabeth’s lost letter to the Duke of Norfolk – where she pleads for marriage to her uncle Richard – my huge respect for Weir, who does think it worthy of consideration, means I am going to have to think again.
Perhaps most striking is the author’s discovery that Elizabeth was present at the Tower of London at the time Sir James Tyrell – the man who had supposedly confessed to the murder of her brothers, the Princes in the Tower – was executed. Could it be that she was brought there to hear his confession?
“Elizabeth of York: The first Tudor Queen” is not my favourite Alison Weir offering – I prefer the less one-person focused books such as ‘York Vs Lancaster’ – but it is toward the top of the list. Quite simply, it is a must read for any fan or the era, or indeed anyone who enjoys getting up close and personal to a remarkable figure of history who might otherwise be forever misunderstood.
Elizabeth of York: The First Tudor Queen, by Alison Weir was published by Vintage in 2013. At the time this post was published the book was available on Amazon for £4.99 (Kindle), £15.99 (hardback) and £9.48 (paperback).
I’ve always been keen to meet other super-cool Royal history geeks. That’s one of the reasons I started this blog. I’m pleased to say that my desires are already being achieved. Within two days of go-live, I found myself in an interesting Twitter conversation with @HistoryGal_ and @charlotteshist on whether Henry VIII believed that Anne Boleyn was guilty of the crimes – adultery, incest and treason – for which she was ultimately put to death.
It’s a subject I want to explore in much greater depth. Indeed, I intend to write an extensive series on Anne’s ‘guilt’ when time allows. But for now, I wanted to take the moment to put down some #QuickFireThoughts. I write largely in ignorance but, perhaps this will provoke conversations that will in turn educate me.
For what it’s worth, I think in his heart of hearts, Henry knew Anne was innocent. Here’s why:
I do not currently subscribe to the theory that a) Anne was actually guilty as charged or that, b) her downfall was primarily a sabotage initiated by Cromwell. I believe that Henry was actually the main orchestrator of it, even if only tacitly.
Henry wanted rid of Anne. True it had only been a few years since he had risked everything to marry her, but we all know that highs can descend to lows very quickly. Not only was she massively getting on his wick but, she had of course failed to bear him a son which had been one of the main attractions to him seeking a second marriage.
The execution of Anne Boleyn was a political possibility. Unlike Catherine of Aragon, she was not protected by a mighty Emperor beyond the seas. All he needed was a valid legal pretence.
Such an act was in keeping with Henry’s character. He had convinced himself that he was sinning against God by being married to Catherine, something that plainly hadn’t bothered him for the early part of his marriage. He was a man who was very easily able to persuade himself of his own lies. That’s how he could justify some of his heinous actions!
Like I say, far more research needs to be done, and I would very much like to hear other people’s thoughts…
The birth of Princess Charlotte of Cambridge brought joy to the nation last year. But the changes to the laws of succession raise fascinating questions as to the Royal titles that she might bear during her life.
Before I started Royal History Geeks I used to pen a blog called ‘UK Royal Titles.’ Given the relative obscurity of the subject matter, it was fairly well read. (It also proved, in case there was any doubt, that as a human being, I occupy the pinnacle of coolness).
Perhaps because of my expertise in such matters (LOL), a few people have asked me about what title our precious little Princess Charlotte of Cambridge will be entitled to as she progresses throughout her life. The answer to this is slightly trickier than it might seem.
Certain title evolutions are easy to predict. Short of some major change in approach she will always retain the style of Royal Highness and the titular dignity of Princess. Upon her grandfather’s accession she will officially by styled HRH Princess Charlotte of Cambridge and Cornwall and, in the likely event of William’s creation as Prince of Wales, HRH Princess Charlotte of Wales. When William finally reaches the throne she would lose the territorial designation and gain the definite article, becoming HRH The Princess Charlotte. Should she ever marry, some documents will style her with her husband’s status following on from her title e.g. The Princess Charlotte, Mrs John Smith or The Princess Charlotte, Duchess of Norfolk.
But the real question I get asked is ‘will Charlotte ever be made Princess Royal?’ Because this is a title that can only be bestowed (by convention) on the oldest daughter of a sovereign, commentators have correctly noted that Charlotte is the most likely candidate to receive it; but we need to be clear – that doesn’t make it a done deal. There are in fact, three factors that could come between Charlotte and the title:
The longevity of Princess Anne – As the eldest daughter of Queen Elizabeth II, Anne was granted the title in 1987. However, despite the fact that (if all goes as it should) she will one day be the sister and then Aunt of the King, she keeps the title with her for life. When the Queen ascended in 1952 her Aunt Mary was still Princess Royal. She died in 1965 but the Queen left it over 20 years before dusting off the honour in favour of her daughter. Anne could live well into William’s reign. Should he decide that a respectful gap should be left between the death of one Princess Royal and the creation of a new one (which is perhaps what influenced the Queen’s decision) than the title could end up skipping Charlotte altogether.
William just might not decide to give it to her – It isn’t obvious what the reason for this would be, but – like most Royal honours – it is given only at the discretion of the sovereign. Her father may simply choose never to give Charlotte the title.
Charlotte could, instead, be made a Duchess – This is something I’ve been thinking about ever since the succession laws were changed to give men and women an equal shot at ascension. There is still a great deal of male-bias in the dishing out of Royal titles and perhaps William – or Charles before him – will seek to modernise. Upon marriage, it is conventional for the sons of monarchs to be given Dukedoms – a title that will shape the eventual style of their descendants. If William decides that his daughter, who will rank above any future sons of his in the succession, also deserves a Dukedom (and become, for example, ‘Duchess of Sussex’), than it is quite possible that the title of ‘Princess Royal’ could fall from favour all together. Certainly it is safe to assume that eldest daughters of Kings and Queens who are also the eldest child will be Princess of Wales. Perhaps ‘Princess Royal’ and even ‘Prince Royal’ could become the standard honour, when available, for the sovereign’s second child.
Anyhow, this is all speculation. At the moment we cannot know. But the great things is – unlike in so many of the cases this blog explores – one day, we should actually find out!
Okay geeks…over to you. How would YOU like to see these Royal titles evolve in the future?
Everyone knows the epic stories of Elizabeth I. The lioness who secured the greatest English military victory since Agincourt; the woman who struggled to put her plotting cousin to death; the iconic matriarch who would achieve cult status in her own lifetime but leave behind no child to secure her legacy.
But little did I know how it was probably the earliest years of her life that were for her personally, by far the most dramatic. Thanks to this excellent biography by David Starkey, my eyes were opened.
The story – for indeed it reads with the ease of a story book without any compromising of detail – begins with Elizabeth’s birth and a sense of disappointment. She was supposed to be a boy – no one had use for a princess. And throughout the book there is a sense that for the first 25 years of her life she is a person who never quite fits in and is something of an inconvenience for everyone: the royal bastard with questionable status; the step-daughter who endangers her guardian’s marriage; the heir-presumptive who is stubbornly the wrong religion.
David Starkey cleverly illustrates how these early struggles shape the character that would one day emerge as the great Gloriana. A calculated strategist who knew how to adapt and survive and a pragmatist that was never wedded to philosophy or ideology.
From the fall-out of the Seymour affair to plots made against her sister in Elizabeth’s name, Starkey paints the picture of danger that Elizabeth lived through and creates a raw sense of just how many bullets she had to dodge. Despite actually knowing how the story ends, such is the power of storytelling that there are moments when you anxiously wonder whether the auburn-haired Princess is ever going to make it to the throne.
Elizabeth’s early relationships are also fascinating – her mixed intimacy with her sibling, her fierce loyalty to the servants that raised her, her early encounter with sexuality. The author brings each of these to life with colour and zest. Finally the book concludes with Elizabeth’s ascension – something that even then seems less like a great victory and more like the next phase of insecurity.
This is not the only book to devote itself to Elizabeth’s early life; but it is probably the most detailed. It is therefore a must read not just to fans of the Virgin Queen, but to anyone who seeks insight into this phase of the Tudor period. Above all else is a shrewd analysis of the psychology behind the early experiences that shape the character of a woman who is generally judged by history to have been one of that era’s greatest rulers.
Elizabeth: Apprenticeship, by Dr David Starkey was published by Vintage in 2001. At time of writing, it was available for purchase from Amazon in hardcover (£20.00) and paperback (£13.10)
In the past six posts I have attempted to demonstrate why I believe the circumstantial evidence and other reliable sources point firmly to the blame of Richard III who usurped his throne and killed his nephews. Now I will sum up my conclusions and look forward to the conversation that will follow.Continue reading →
Early in my research, I started to form the view that Richard III was responsible for the death of his nephews. However, during my journey I stumbled across a couple of road blocks that gave me more than a little pause for thought.Continue reading →
The most detailed account of Richard III’s murder of the Princes in the Tower was penned by lawyer and philosopher Thomas More c. 1515. But can his ‘History of Richard III’ be trusted and respected as a credible piece of historical research and writing?Continue reading →
In the last blog post, I demonstrated that circumstantial evidence strongly points toward Richard’s guilt; who else could really have overcome his defences and murdered the closely guarded Princes? Nonetheless the centuries that followed have spawned countless alternative theories, some of which are worthy of examination.
Both unnecessary emotion and an exaggerated sense of mystery surround the question of who killed the Princes in the Tower. As such it is important to cast any misplaced sense of loyalty aside and ruthlessly examine the facts that we do know from 1483 to discover the most likely destiny of the boys – and the most probable orchestrator of it.
It was a moment of history. The bones of Richard III were being unearthed before her very eyes. And it was almost instantly clear that he was in possession of the very curved spine that Ricardians have long argued was a Tudor invention.
Langley is an active member of the Richard III society. She is also my hero. Thanks to her stoic efforts over many years, she paved the way to the greatest historical discovery of a generation, perhaps of a lifetime.
But in her loudly expressed disbelief at what she saw, she betrayed one of the fundamental problems in the debate around Richard III. Too often people are on a quest not to unearth the truth, whatever it might be. They search for facts that will validate their theories.
This is exactly what we need to counter. This discussion throws up so much emotion, but there’s no reason it needs to. Similarly it encourages talk of a dearth of historic records (which to an extent is true), creating an impression that we can never know the truth.
It’s time to clear the fog. It’s time to leave tribalism and emotion at the door. For a minute let’s stop focusing on what we can’t know and take a minute to review what we do know.
Two accounts of Richard’s reign are rich in detail about the events of 1483. One (the Croyland Chronicle) was written by a member of his government and another (Dominic Mancini) was crafted by an Italian visitor who clearly had access to a source at court and a first-hand experience of the public reaction. Neither of these had any reason to fabricate, and although they could never have seen each other’s work, they broadly corroborate.
And it is by studying these two accounts and ruthlessly examining the events of that fateful year that we see Richard’s guilt to leap out at us, even though neither directly accuse him of the Prince’s murder.
We can, with confidence, be sure of the following:
That as soon as Richard became aware of his brother’s death, he rode to intercept the young King Edward V and had him taken into his care.
Richard arrested Lord Rivers (the young King’s uncle), Richard Grey (the King’s half-brother) and Thomas Vaughan (a close servant).
Richard illegally arrested two of Edward IV’s former supporters the Bishop of Ely and the Bishop of Rotherham and had a third, Lord Hastings executed without any trial. It was widely known that Hastings was one of three loyalist supporters of the young Edward V.
Richard and the Duke of Buckingham (his loyal supporter) moved many armed men into London.
Richard gained possession of the King’s younger brother, also called Richard (and Duke of York) even though he had fled to sanctuary with his mother. Both Royal heirs were placed into the Tower of London.
With both brothers now in the Tower, Richard dismissed the entire young King’s servants, replaced them with his own men and gradually drew them further within the Tower so that they were seen less and less each day.
In the days that followed Richard and his party began circulating rumours that Edward IV was illegitimate because of his mother’s adultery and that his children were illegitimate because he had already been pledged in marriage to another before he wed Elizabeth Woodville. They also argued that the aforementioned marriage would have been invalid at any rate because of Eilzabeth’s status as a widow and the nature of their union. Had any of these reasons been true, only one could have possibly come to Richard’s attention as a result of new information.
Richard is declared King as Richard III.
Anthony, Earl of Rivers and Richard Grey (powerful and influential uncle and half-brother to the deposed Princes) were illegally put to death without a trial. Commentators remarked that the three men who could have been the biggest support to Edward V were now dead (Hastings, Grey and Rivers),
Plots from men in the south and west began to form to liberate the princes from the Tower and to spirit their sisters to safety overseas.
The Princes were never seen again and rumours of their death began to circulate.
As Richard’s reign continued, rumours that he killed the Princes proved toxic to him; but he never produces the boys to counter them.
As such, we can be confident that at this stage the Princes were dead. Rumours of their murder were proving disastrous for Richard and driving many into the sympathies of Henry of Richmond, the remote Lancastrian claimant exiled to Brittany. To prevent this, the new King would have only needed to present his nephews for public viewing. But he didn’t.
Some would argue, of course, that the fact they were dead does not make Richard responsible for it. And it doesn’t. But when you stand back and review the chronology that I have presented above, is there really any other alternative?
All of Richard’s actions are consistent with those of a man who had set out to seize the throne and he had acted swiftly and brutally to anyone who got in his way with expressions of tyranny. He then obtained custody of both Princes and placed them entirely under his watch. Rebellions in their favour would have convinced him that his attempts to bastardise them had failed. He had the motive and means to eliminate them forever.
But surely this is all circumstantial? Even if he had usurped the throne and taken them prisoner, couldn’t someone else have been responsible for this final, must outrageous of deeds?
No, not really. Richard had his own, loyal men guarding his nephews. Only someone acting under his orders could have had access to them. And if for any reason someone else had managed to get their hands on them, he would have known about it almost straight away. It is hardly conceivable that he would have had a good enough network of spies to detect rebellions against him across the country, but would have been blind to what was happening on his own watch.
However, as I’m sure my Ricardian friends would rush to remind me, this is just one of many theories. But as we shall see in the next post, it is a theory that is far more compelling than any other on offer.
Okay geeks…over to you. Am I being too judgmental toward Richard? Are their facts from 1483 that I am failing to consider? I would love to know what YOU think!
