4 problems with the theory that Henry VIII ‘changed forever’ following a fall from his horse

Posted on August 17, 2020August 23, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

Hopes had been high for the young, learned Prince

In 1509, England was on the verge of a golden era. A beautiful, pious and learned 17-year-old prince had just ascended the throne. It was going to be an age of unparalleled splendour.

Or so they thought.

By the time he went to meet his maker 38 years later, this prince of promise had beheaded two wives, executed the remnants of Plantagenet blood and torn apart the religious foundations of a nation.

What could possibly have gone so wrong?

According to countless mainstream media articles, the answer is simple. Henry VIII sustained a traumatic brain injury following a fall from his horse in 1536. Following that, his personality changed forever. He became an erratic and paranoid tyrant. The likes of Anne Boleyn and Thomas Cromwell paid the price.

But there’s a number of problems with this theory. Here is just four of them.

Henry was probably not hurt in the fall from his horse

It’s often quoted as a fact that Henry was out cold for two hours following the fall from his horse. But this information comes from a man not living in England. Dr Ortiz, the source who claimed that Henry was without speech for two hours, resided in Rome and seems to have picked up the gossip third hand from a French ambassador. As Alison Weir points out, continental gossip would later get the facts of Anne Boleyn’s arrest spectacularly wrong.

A source based in England, however, records the event very differently. Chapuy, the Imperial ambassador, based in Henry VIII’s court, writes that:

“On the eve of the Conversion of St. Paul, the King being mounted on a great horse to run at the lists, both fell so heavily that everyone thought it a miracle he was not killed, but he sustained no injury.”

The thrust of Chapuy’s account is confirmed by the English chronicler, Charles Wriothesley. In these versions it appears as if both Henry and the horse took a dramatic tumble. Despite the force with which they fell however, the King emerged unscathed. He might not even have hit his head.

The matter gets complicated further. On 29^th January – five days after Henry’s fall – Anne Boleyn miscarried a child. In her distress, she blamed her uncle the duke of Norfolk. The Duke, Anne claimed, alarmed and distressed her when he reported the news of Henry’s accident. But Chapuy reacted to this with disbelief. The Duke of Norfolk had told her calmly. And besides, there had been nothing to worry about.

Could Anne’s tragic miscarriage really have had anything to do with the incident? Sadly, she had miscarried before. By this stage, Anne knew how much she needed a son. It is understandable that in her grief and fear, she cast the net around for someone else to blame.

By the time this story, accompanied by the news of Anne’s miscarriage, had weaved its way to the continent, Chinese Whispers had played their part. The story had morphed into the dramatic version that is so often quoted on social media.

The historian must give credibility to Chapuy’s account. He would have spoken directly to eyewitnesses. Had Henry been out cold for two hours, or been incapable of speech, it beggars belief that the Imperial ambassador would not have reported such a dramatic occasion accurately back to his masters. Had Henry’s life hung in the balance, the Imperial authorities would have wanted every detail. His death in 1536 would almost certainly have triggered a war of succession between the supporters of his two daughters, the Lady Mary and Princess Elizabeth. Given that Mary was the emperor’s first cousin, Charles V would have had a vested interest in the outcome of that skirmish. He may well have chosen to intervene.

Had there been the possibility of Henry’s death, Chapuy would have been all over it like a rash. He was not one to tone down sensational details.

2. There was no sudden change in Henry’s behaviour

After Henry’s fall, he certainly perpetrated some great travesties. Anne Boleyn was executed. Thomas Cromwell would follow a similar fate. Even Henry’s aged-cousin, Margaret Pole would meet her end at the scaffold.

But are these tragedies so different to the ones that occurred prior to the supposed ‘brain injury’? Elizabeth Barton, the Nun of Kent was executed in 1534. Henry’s one-time friend Thomas More met his end in 1535 as did Bishop Fisher, the holy man who had been a friend and confidant to Henry’s grandmother, Margaret Beaufort. Was his treatment of Cromwell so different to that of the other minister he had been so reliant on, Cardinal Wolsey?

Throughout the 1520s, we see a gradual progression in Henry’s behaviour. The renaissance prince of earlier years had certainly gone by 1536. But he had been fading away for years. Henry’s transition to ‘tyrant’ is better understood by the frustration he felt at being denied what he really wanted – the woman he loved and the son he believed she could give him.

It is also possible to detect the roots of a tyrannical personality in the very early years of Henry’s reign. Let’s not forget the fate of his father’s advisors, Empson and Dudley, who were destined for death the moment Henry ascended.

3. The theory makes Henry an ‘Alice in Wonderland’ style monarch

Tudor monarchs were immensely powerful. But they couldn’t just shout ‘off with her head’ and expect the axe to fall straight away.

Someone didn’t lose their life because an erratic and brain-damaged Henry exploded with rage at them. For ‘justice’ to be delivered, due legal processes had to be followed.

As the trial of Anne Boleyn demonstrated, proceedings could be heavily rigged. Torture may have been used to extract Smeaton’s confession and much of the evidence against her was clearly engineered. There can be no pretence that the justice system was an independent, democratic institution. But processes were in place and even the king had to follow them. History had shown just how dangerous it could be for a King that chose to act outside the parameters of the body politic of the day. Richard II and Edward II had lost their crowns by doing so.

When we link the tragedies of Henry’s reign to his personality alone, we risk misunderstanding the limits and parameters of Tudor kingship.

Even the tyrannical Henry couldn’t just chop people’s heads off

4. The argument risks ignoring the politics of Henry’s court

When we blame brutal executions on a brain injury, we fail to appreciate the power dynamics of Henry’s court.

Those that perished during or after 1536 did not die just because they lost Henry’s favour. They died because they had enemies.

Henry’s court was factional. Major power brokers on both sides, blessed with wits, influence and resources, were occasionally able to outmanoeuvre their enemies. Anne’s miscarriages and behaviour made her vulnerable. But it was Cromwell that went for her. Cromwell, in turn, miscalculated with the Cleves marriage. But it was the conservative faction that outmanoeuvred him. When Katheryn Howard showed a lapse in judgement, it was the reformists that ensured the evidence was mounted.

That doesn’t mean that it wasn’t a big deal if you lost Henry’ favour and protection. People who rode high in his esteem were untouchable. But falling from his favour did not instantly put your life in jeopardy. Let’s not forget how worried Henry was that he might not be able to escape the Cleves marriage. He was so grateful to Anna for cooperating. He couldn’t have just chopped her head off. International politics aside, what did he possibly have on her?

The politics of Henry’s reign is rich. It’s an intellectual joy to try and unpick and understand it. But when we attribute the drama of his later years to an erratic, brain-damaged personality, we risk missing the substantial political issues that lurked beneath the surface.

None of this means that Henry’s personality didn’t change as he got older. It would be strange if it didn’t. And of course, declining health undoubtedly played a part. The wounds on his leg caused him great pain and he may have suffered from high blood pressure and type 2 diabetes.

But we must move away from this notion that he changed drastically in 1536. We have to stop looking for a brain injury that resulted from a blow to the head that might not even have happened. Such a view does not stand up to scrutiny. But more importantly than that, it diminishes our understanding of the true development of Henry’s character. It distracts us from appreciating the politics of the Henrican court. It might give us an easy and sensational answer; but it deprives us of the real adventure that delving into the politics of Henry’s reign can take us on.

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Virgin Queens? Did any of Henry’s wives come to his marital bed ‘untouched by man’

Posted on July 31, 2020August 23, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

In 1542, a distraught Henry VIII decided to have the head of the woman who had broken his heart.

There was just one problem. It wasn’t actually clear what crime the Queen, Katheryn Howard had committed. She had certainly been inappropriate with the young courtier, Thomas Culpeper. But it seems that there was not sufficient evidence to condemn her for adultery.

In an act of legal reimagination, it was decided that Katheryn’s misconduct before her marriage to Henry was worthy of censure. Her behaviour after her nuptials only served to illustrate that she was no longer worthy of her life.

But was she the only Queen of Henry VIII’s to be guilty of a dalliance prior to marriage? Is it possible that none of his wives came to Henry’s marital bed untouched by man?

Let’s take them one by one.

Katherine of Aragon

Did Katherine of Aragon consummate her first marriage to Henry’s brother, Arthur. The issue would sit at the heart of Henry’s attempt to divorce Katherine and be joined to Anne Boleyn.

I’ve covered this ground elsewhere, so won’t go over it again. We will never know the truth, but I’m inclined to believe Katherine. She swore an oath that she had come to Henry’s bed a maid and I don’t think she would have engendered her immortal soul by lying.

Anne Boleyn

Henry’s second wife has gone down in history as the woman who made the King wait seven years before surrendering her affections. But was Henry her first sexual experience?

After his nuptials to Anne, Henry grew rapidly disappointed. He was heard complaining that she had been ‘corrupted’ while living in the French court. It’s not clear what this meant but it he was probably suggesting that she had acquired some kind of sexual technique from the continent.

There is also the question of Henry Percy. In 1522, Anne fell in love with the future Earl of Northumberland and the couple hoped to wed. Cardinal Wolsey – who had plans to settle a family feud by marrying Anne to the Irish Earl of Ormonde – put a stop to the match. However, if the couple believed they had agreed a pre-contract , sleeping together would have been the way to ‘seal the deal.’ These two factors would make them legally married and there was, strictly speaking, nothing improper about forming a union that way. Although such a clandestine approach was not encouraged among the high nobility.

For what it’s worth, I don’t think Anne would have been so carefree. She was a master of strategy and had she believed her and Percy were to spend their lives together, she would not have wanted there to be a question mark around the legitimacy of any children.

Jane Seymour

We don’t know much about Queen Jane’s character. But we do know that Henry chose her because she was the opposite of Anne. While Anne was sensual and alluring, Jane was demure and gentle.

It seems unlikely that Jane knew the touch of man before Henry came along. She certainly did not have a reputation for any kind of light behaviour. But did Henry and Jane wait until they had officially tied the knot before becoming physically intimate?

Henry and Jane married with alarming haste after Anne’s execution. This might well have been Henry’s way of showing the world he had moved on after the humiliation of being cuckolded. Or, he may simply have burned with desire for Jane.

However, it could also be that they were in such a rush because Jane was pregnant. Some think she may have miscarried one child before conceiving Edward. Could it be that another was sadly lost in the early weeks of their marriage?

Anne of Cleves

As many Royal History Geeks know, there’s a famous scene where Anne’s ladies probed the Queen on the nature of her bedroom antics. She innocently replied that the King kissed her every night and fell asleep beside her. Was that not enough, she wide-eyed wondered, to bring a child into the world?

It’s a sweet story. But I don’t buy it. Anne was 24 when she came to England. Would her mother really have sent her into the lion’s den without a word in her ear? Her parents would have known Henry was expecting sex. I cannot believe they would let her navigate this fundamental frontier entirely alone.

Was she as innocent as history remembers? Henry certainly didn’t think so. As he tried to find a way out of their marriage, he mentions multiple times that, having inspected Anne’s body, he believed her to be no maid.

Perhaps we shouldn’t take Henry too seriously. But he was experienced with women. The notion that Anne may have given birth to a son as a teenager forms the sub-plot of Alison Weir’s excellent novel on the Cleves Princess. The books is fiction and the author is clear that were she penning a factual biography, she would have to tread more carefully. But Henry’s comments are certainly intriguing.

Katheryn Howard

Let’s not tarry here for long. We know that Katheryn was not a virgin when she married the King. She seemed to know how to lie with a man without getting pregnant, which might suggest she never surrendered herself fully to Francis Dereham. But it’s more likely that they used some form of contraception.

Katherine Parr

Henry’s final wife is the only one that everyone knew was not a virgin at the time of the marriage – and quite legitimately so. She had been married twice before.

But it’s possible that she was not particularly sexually experienced. Her first husband had been young and sickly. Her second, older and often unwell. There is no record of her ever falling pregnant by either of them nor by Henry. Yet, when she married the virile Thomas Seymour, she was with child almost straight way.

Could it be that her sex life only really got going with husband number four?

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6 arguments that Katherine and Arthur probably didn’t ‘do it’

Posted on July 22, 2020August 23, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

We Royal History Geeks are a nosy bunch, aren’t we? Normally, what happens between a couple on their wedding night stays pretty private. Even a close friend might think twice before prying into the details.

For Katherine of Aragon and Arthur, Prince of Wales, however, no such privacy can be afforded. The subject of whether their teenage marriage was consummated would emerge at the centre of King Henry VIII’s great matter – his attempt to divorce his first wife and be wed to Anne Boleyn.

Arthur was Henry’s older brother. As Arthur’s widow, Katherine was technically Henry’s sister under church law. But the Pope had dispensed with this obstacle – as Popes often did. The couple was free to marry.

But an anxious Henry later grew doubtful of the Pope’s right to wave away this important consideration. The book of Leviticus declared that if a man took his brother’s wife he would be childless. Given his lack of son, these words struck a chord with the King. What right did the church have to overturn scripture?

Katherine and her supporters argued that the Pope’s dispensation was largely unnecessary. She swore that her marriage to Henry’s brother had never been consummated. Katherine and Arthur had never truly been husband and wife. Yet Henry grew convinced that his wife had not been a maid when she came to him. Neither was prepared to back down.

We will never know the truth. Only two people know for sure what happened during that short marriage. They have both been dead for half a millennium. But if I were a betting man, my money would be on Katherine. Here’s six reasons why.

1.Katherine stood fast even as she prepared to meet her maker

Religious belief was paramount in Tudor England. That doesn’t mean we should ascribe spiritual purity to everyone indiscriminately. But Katherine was a devout woman and she swore that she and Arthur had never been truly man and wife. She maintained this stance until the end of her days – right up to the point when she was going to meet her maker. If fear of judgement did not cause her to confess, she likely had nothing to retract.

Henry VIII was initially keen to be married to his brother’s widow

2. Henry’s concerns were suspect and hypocritical

I’m one of the few who thinks some of Henry’s concerns about his marriage were genuine. He probably doubted his marriage to Katherine before Anne Boleyn came along.

Nevertheless, Henry was a hypocrite. He argued that Katherine and Arthur had become one, making Katherine his sister under canon law and their marriage incestuous. The Pope, he said, was wrong to grant dispensations in such circumstances. Yet, at the same time, Henry was applying to the Pope for dispensation to marry Anne Boleyn. She was in the same forbidden degree of affinity to him as Katherine was. Henry had slept with her sister, Mary.

There must have been limits to how far Henry’s marriage to Katherine was genuinely plaguing his conscience.

3. Katherine publicly challenged Henry to admit he knew the truth

At a trial to determine the legality of her wedding, Katherine gave the performance of a lifetime. Kneeling before Henry, she delivered an impassioned defence of their union. Included within this monologue was the following pointed phrase:

“And when ye had me at the first, I take God to be my judge, I was a true maid without touch of man; and whether it be true or no, I put it to your conscience.”

Katherine is implying that Henry knew full well that it was he, not Arthur, that took her virginity. Could there have been physical evidence of such on their wedding night? If Katherine was lying, this was a bold move.

4. Arthur was probably sickly

Arthur was probably sickly by the time of his marriage to Katherine

Some argue that Arthur – who was probably born premature – had always been a sickly lad. There is no real evidence for that.

However, according to testimony by Spanish servants, Arthur was not well at the time he and Katherine married. This could explain a lack of sexual congress. It might also explain why Katherine recovered from illness and why her fragile husband did not.

Clearly this testimony must be treated with caution. These witnesses were speaking at a trial convened in Spain and were saying things that the local authorities wanted to hear. Nevertheless, they were talking about events that took place 30 years before and their accounts fit together well. They would have had little chance to compare notes.

5. Newsflash: teenage boys lie about sex

Henry had witnesses too. Servants of Arthur reported that after his wedding night he had been heard bragging that ‘marriage was thirsty work.’ One servant, Sir Anthony Willoughby, was instructed to bring the young Prince a cup of ale for he had been ‘this night in the midst of Spain.’ The implication was clear. Arthur had sealed the deal.

As with witnesses that spoke up in Katherine’s defence, these men were not impartial. It was in their interest to say things that Henry VIII wanted to hear. But even if their testimony was honest, can we really be confident that Arthur’s youthful brags contained the truth? He would hardly be the only teenage boy in history to brag about a sexual encounter which had, strictly speaking, never happened. Were he ill – and feeling insecure – at the time, might he have felt extra pressure to overcompensate?

6. Teenage sex was not always encouraged in Tudor England

Couples married young. But did they always take things to the next level? We know that Elizabeth or York and Margaret Beaufort intervened to ensure that Arthur’s sister, Princess Margaret was not introduced to sex too earlier in the run up to her marriage to the King of Scots. There’s no suggestion that they did the same for Katherine and Arthur. But it might suggest that there was a hesitance about teenage sex, even following marriage.

Other possible examples can be found. Katherine Parr married a teenage boy when she was young. She did not fall pregnant. This could suggest that sex was delayed. Though he, like Arthur, was probably sickly.

Let me repeat: we will never know for sure. I appreciate that there are counterpoints to all these arguments. Perhaps Katherine had falsely convinced herself that nothing happened. Maybe she decided to double done and stick to her guns. The Spanish witnesses could have been lying. Arthur’s brags may have been based on the truth.

Ultimately – and at risk of oversimplification – it comes down to a simple question. Whose honesty do you trust more: Henry VIII or Katherine of Aragon? On this criterion, I am far more minded to give the benefit of the doubt to Katherine the Queen.

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WATCH: Interview with Alison Weir, Tudor history sensation

Posted on July 17, 2020August 23, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

It was an immense privilege to sit down (over zoom) with historian and novelist, Alison Weir.

Alison is responsible for some of the best researched ‘narrative history’ on the Tudor and Plantagenet periods. She has written novels as well as history books.

At the time of the interview, Alison had just released her 5th book in the ‘Six Tudor Queens’ fictional series: Katherine Howard, the Tainted Queen (Scandalous Queen in the USA).

Please visit Alison’s website and consider buying her books from a local bookstore or online. http://alisonweir.org.uk/

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6 reasons why Margaret Beaufort could not have killed the Princes in the tower

Posted on July 10, 2020August 23, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

About seven years ago I started properly thinking about who killed the Princes in the Tower. I had no bias toward or against any candidate. But I quickly decided that Richard was the most likely perpetrator.

Four years ago I started blogging about my obsession and engaging with other Royal History Geeks online. I learnt how many people held Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII, responsible for the murder of Edward V and his brother, Richard, Duke of York. The Tudor matriarch had never emerged as a meaningful candidate in the books and primary sources I had studied. I was soon to learn that social media follows a different set of rules to scholars.

When it comes to history, we are all entitled to our own opinions. But are we entitled to our own facts? The people we are talking about really lived. Should we make claims about their misbehaviour without robust evidence? We surely wouldn’t if these were people we actually knew.

When it comes to historical fiction, I understand that license must be taken. History is about recognising different perspectives and understanding motivations in their context. Stories must feature heroes and villains. But where things have to be invented in order to make these narratives flow, authors should be clear about what they have done.

There are a host of reasons why a link between Margaret Beaufort and the death of the Princes in the Tower should be discounted. Here are just six of them.

She didn’t have access

Before we go any further, we have to acknowledge the level of security around the Princes after Richard got his hands on both of them. He had the Princes in a high-security prison within the Tower of London. This claim is relatively uncontroversial. We can be clear on it without relying on the Tudor sources which many find so sinister.

Mancini, the Italian writer visiting London, tells us that “all the attendants who had waited upon the King [Edward V] were debarred access to him. He and his brother were withdrawn into the inner departments of the Tower proper, and day by day began to be seen more rarely behind the bars and windows, till at length they ceased to appear altogether.”

The Croyland Chronicle recounts that the Princes were put in the custody of “certain persons appointed to that purpose.” They would have been men Richard trusted greatly.

Assuming that the boys died in 1483, how would Margaret or an agent acting on her behalf have gained access to them?

2. Her husband didn’t have access

Margaret is often thought to have a co-conspirator in the form of her husband, Thomas, Lord Stanley. Proponents of this theory point out that he was the Constable of England. Surely that position would have helped him get near to the boys, wouldn’t it?

Stanley, however, was not appointed Constable of England until after the Princes were probably dead. And even if they were still alive, there is nothing to suggest that this office would have granted him proximity to them. As we have seen, the boys were not simply roaming around the tower. They had been withdrawn to an inner apartment and guarded by men close to Richard.

Stanley was not part of Richard’s inner circle. While he had been appointed to high office, this reflects that Richard needed to ensure he kept a major regional power broker on side as his reign became fractious. Bestowing such an office did not necessarily convey trust. For example, George Duke of Clarence held the similar office of Lord High Steward during a time that he was at loggerheads with his brother, Edward IV.

Margaret’s husband, Lord Stanley was not a man Richard III highly trusted

3. Margaret had nothing to offer Richard’s guards

No one’s loyalty can be guaranteed. It is sometimes said that, while the Princes were guarded by Richard’s most trusted men, perhaps Margaret could have bribed them. She was, after all, rather wealthy.

I’ve written elsewhere about the wealth of Margaret Beaufort. It was certainly substantial. But it was not enough to make her a major power broker of the realm. And what could she possibly have offered these men which would have been superior to the benefits that service to the king could bring? Besides, these men knew that if they let anything happen to the king’s nephews, under the orders of anyone but Richard, they would answer for it with their heads.

4. Richard never accused Margaret or Stanley of it

In the highly unlikely event that Margaret had gained access to the Princes and had them killed, Richard would have found out about it straight away. Wouldn’t this have been a dream come true for the king? His biggest rivals would have been eliminated. Yet, there wouldn’t have been a trace of blood on his hands. He could pin the blame on Margaret and Stanley.

5. It’s not clear that Margaret even had a motive

Once it was believed the Princes were dead, those loyal to Edward IV searched for a new champion. Margaret’s son, Henry Tudor was the man they eventually turned their attention to – on the condition that he would marry Elizabeth of York, sister of the Princes. But could such an eventuality really have been predicted? People could just have easily turned to the young earl of Warwick, the Duke of Buckingham or anyone who was free to marry Elizabeth.

To believe that Margaret could have masterminded such as set of circumstances credits her with a greater gift of prophecy than is realistic.

Richard III had the boys in a high-security prison

6. After 1485, it wouldn’t have been Margaret giving the orders

Some speculate that when Henry VII arrived in England, he found the boys in the tower and had them done away with. Was it Margaret that was whispering in his ear and persuading him to do so?

It is highly unlikely that the Princes were still alive in 1485. Had they been, surely Richard would have produced them. Doing so would split the coalition of Lancastrian remnants and Yorkist dissidents that had formed against him. However, if they had survived, and their death was ordered by Henry VII, it seems odd to lay the blame for this at Margaret’s door. Henry would have been the one to give the orders.

It is true that Henry trusted the advice of his mother. This may have been particularly the case in the early weeks of his reign as there were few in England he could trust. But to suggests that he was some kind of puppet King that allowed anyone else to pull the strings misunderstands his entire approach to kingship. Besides, even if killing the Princes was Margaret’s idea, it would have been Henry that gave the order.

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Did Henry VIII suffer from impotency?

Posted on June 27, 2020June 27, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

“Henry VIII suffered from impotency. It was s a result of obesity and other health problems in his later years.”

It’s a statement you often hear on social media. Generally it’s delivered with the confidence of a cast-iron fact.

But what evidence do we actually have to support it?

Henry experienced a number of health problems in later life

Henry’s last two wives, Kateryn Howard and Katherine Parr, almost certainly didn’t ‘enjoy’ the delights of the potent Prince that had married their namesake, Katherine of Aragon. But can we really make sweeping claims about Henry’s health without stronger source material? Many claim confidently that Henry would have suffered from type 2 diabetes and high blood pressure. While both are possible, we simply can’t diagnose at a distance of 500 years.

In truth, we probably don’t have enough information judge whether Henry suffered from impotency in his later years. But there are some valid pieces of source material and circumstantial evidence that it’s worth exploring.

Anne Boleyn: cruel gossip or unsatisfied wife?

The first piece of evidence comes from 1536 and the trial of George Boleyn, brother of Henry’s ill-fated second wife. According to Chapuys, the Imperial ambassador, during the trial, George was handed a piece of paper that contained allegations against him. Despite being instructed to digest it silently, George read the charges out loud. Among them was the accusation that he and his sister, Anne, had been heard gossiping about Henry. They had, it was claimed, been laughing about the fact that the King was struggling to perform in the bedroom.

We must be careful about this evidence. To start with Chapuys was not an eyewitness to the trial. Despite the fact that he was reporting back to his master, the emperor, he had form for reporting gossip as fact. He also may have thought the Emperor would enjoy this little dig at Henry’s potency.

Nevertheless, the ambassador would have conversed with several eyewitnesses. He was quite complimentary about George Boleyn’s defence at the trial, despite regarding all Boleyns as the enemy. In this instance, Chapuy’s words are generally seen as reliable.

Of course, the fact that George and Anne were accused of such gossip does not mean they were guilty of it. Much of the evidence levied against Anne and her ‘conspirators’ was clearly falsified. Yet, while this is not exactly robust historical analysis, what we know of George and Anne’s characters gives the story a ring of authenticity.

Whatever the truth of this tale, we simply cannot conclude that Henry was impotent from 1536 onwards. He successfully impregnated Jane Seymour. While it did take Jane six months to fall pregnant with Edward VI, it is possible that she had miscarried a child previously and was even pregnant when she and Henry married. They certainly married in haste.

The Cleves catastrophe

Henry was unable to consummate his fourth marriage but blamed the appearance of Anne of Cleves

For the next piece of evidence, we must turn the clock forward to 1540 and Henry’s disastrous marriage to Anne of Cleves. This marriage was unconsummated, and Henry confessed to his physician that he had been unable to do the deed. But he was very keen to stress that he was not in error. He had experienced two ‘nocturnal pollutions’ (i.e. wet dreams) that very night.

Here, for the first time, Henry is admitting a ‘performance’ issue. But he is also squarely making it clear that it is not his fault and that all his equipment is working as it should. Was he so alarmed by the situation he had to seek a doctor? Or was he worried word of his inadequacy would spread and sought to make a pre-emptive strike?

Henry had no issue with his sixth and final wife, Katherine Parr

The Duke of York that never appeared

In Henry’s mind, the future of the Tudor dynasty hung by the fragile thread of one little boy. He was bound to want to sire sons from his final two marriages. People expected him to do so. Yet, sons did not spring from either union.

The issue was unlikely to be with either wife. Katheryn Howard was young and healthy. Katherine Parr would conceive almost straight away once married to the virile Thomas Seymour. Something seemed to be amiss with Henry.

One explanation could be that Henry was now struggling with impotency. But it could just as easily have been declining fertility. Henry had claimed responsibility for 11 pregnancies and was almost certainly responsible for more. But even with men, fertility declines with age. His interest in Katheryn Howard suggests there was at least something sexual about their relationship.

Nevertheless, issues of sexual performance remain a possibility. And for an explanation, we might be wise to search into the soul.

Impotency can be caused by psychological as well as physiological factors. It is certainly possible to make sense of Henry’s potential problems through this lens – particularly if the problems do originate in the 1530s.

Henry had moved heaven and earth to make Anne Boleyn his own. He had gone through a traumatic separation with his first wife and become estranged from the daughter he had once loved so much. He had remade the religious and political makeup of his Kingdom by breaking with Rome. Yet, almost as soon as he married Anne she proved to be a disappointment. Could any issues with intimacy, sex and performance have resulted from such disappointment? If so, it might help explain why he came to believe there was something sinister about Anne. That she had once bewitched him. Throughout the twists and turns of the 1540s, it is most conceivable that such problems would have worsened.

We shall never know the truth. That Henry experienced issues with sexual performance is possible. That these may have been linked to type 2 diabetes, blood pressure and emotional issues all make sense. But we can’t diagnose at this distance. It is of course interesting to speculate. Let’s just ensure we maintain a degree of humility and caution when we do so.

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The Princes in the Tower: 7 arguments that suggest it was Richard wot done it

Posted on June 25, 2020June 26, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

The fate of the Princes in the Tower will probably never be definitively answered

Richard III and the fate of the princes in the tower. It’s a debate that is unlikely to be resolved to satisfaction.

Hard evidence does not exist. We don’t even know for a fact that Edward V and his brother Richard were murdered – let alone at whose hand they met their fate.

But it isn’t true that we know nothing. And what we do have – circumstantial thought it may be – strongly suggests the blame must be laid at Richard’s door.

Here are just seven reasons why.

1. You don’t need to rely on Tudor sources to conclude that Richard’s probably guilty

“Richard’s reputation has been blackened by Tudor propaganda.” It’s a statement we often hear in this debate and is a relatively superficial analysis. It prevents each source being assessed for its individual merit. But it ain’t an argument I’m gonna win with one article.

As luck would have it, I don’t need to. The evidence that points to Richard’s guilt can be found in accounts contemporaneous to his reign. Thanks to the writings of Dominic Mancini and the 3^rd continuation of the Croyland Chronicle we have a relatively robust understanding of the chain of events in 1483.

Mancini was an Italian visiting London. He had access to a source close to the Princes and was aware of what information was being put about the capital. We would be unwise to take every word he writes as fact. But the chain of events can be verified by other sources, even though none could have read Mancini’s work. His account lingered in a French library until it was discovered in 1934.

Croyland was almost certainly a state official, though not part of Richard’s inner-circle. Technically it was written in the first few months of Henry VII’s reign. However, it was written too early to be ‘infected’ by ‘Tudor propaganda’. Crucially, it contains information that Henry VII would not have wanted preserved. To dismiss it as a ‘Tudor spin’ would be absurd.

2. Richard killed the Princes most loyal supporters before declaring himself King

Richard’s army of modern-day supporters often argue that Richard’s claim to the crown – based on the supposed illegitimacy of the princes – was widely accepted by the ‘three estates’ of the realm. But surely the fact that Richard had just killed everyone that opposed him and had armies stationed outside London had something to do with that?

Without following due legal process, Richard had William Hastings, a close supporter of Edward IV murdered. He killed – without trial – the Princes’ uncle, Earl Rivers and their half-brother Richard Grey. The message was clear. Resistance to Richard would be met with fatal force.

Richard declared his nephews illegitimate. But did people really believe him?

3. The illegitimacy of the Princes was not accepted

Ricardians also argue that Richard had no motive to have the Princes killed. He had declared them illegitimate and thus they were no threat to him. But Croyland is clear that plots were forming to free them. Clearly, the story hadn’t stuck. Besides, Richard had made them illegitimate by Act of Parliament. Parliament could simply reverse that decision.

4. Richard had the Princes in a high-security prison

Mancini tells us that “all the attendants who had waited upon the King [Edward V] were debarred access to him. He and his brother were withdrawn into the inner departments of the Tower proper, and day by day began to be seen more rarely behind the bars and windows, till at length they ceased to appear altogether.”

While the Tower of London was a royal residence and not just a prison, the boys were kept to a designated area. After a certain point they were not permitted to roam

5. Richard dismissed all the Princes’ attendants and had them guarded by loyal men

Croyland tells us that the Princes were put in the custody of ‘certain persons appointed to that purpose.’ They would have been men Richard trusted greatly.

Occasionally people speculate that these men were bribed by another. But what could they have offered? What could possibly outweigh the benefits to be had from service to the King? And surely these men knew that if they let something happen to the Princes on anyone’s orders but Richard’s they would answer for it with their heads.

6. Richard never accused anyone else of killing the Princes

Richard had the boys in a high security prison. Could anyone – even Buckingham – really have gained access? If they had, Richard would have known about it straight away. Would he really have kept quiet? After all, it would have been a stroke of luck. He could make it clear the boys were dead and pin the murder on someone else. It’s telling that he never did.

7. Richard did not ‘produce’ the boys when doing so would have saved his reign

Some argue that the Princes were never killed at all. I would love to believe that, but it seems unlikely.

In 1485, Richard III faced a great threat from a strange and unlikely coalition. The remnants of Lancaster teamed up with the keenest supporters of Edward IV to topple Richard. If Richard had been able to prove that the boys were still alive, it would have split his opposition down the middle. It might even have united all Yorkist support under him.

But he didn’t. Because they were almost certainly dead.

The Tower of London was a royal residence, not just a prison. But Richard had the boys confined to inner apartments where they could not be seen

Everything I’ve said here is circumstantial. It’s not categorical proof and I accept that. Maybe it wouldn’t stand up in court. But we’re not lawyers. This isn’t a trial. As Alison Weir says, historians don’t convict beyond all reasonable doubt. They look at the evidence we have and conclude what is most likely to have happened.

So much passion surrounds this debate and it is largely counter-productive. I have no partisan bias against Richard. If new evidence comes to light I would do my best to review it with an open mind.

What puzzles me is that multitudes of Royal History Geeks feel the need to explain away the chain of events that I have outlined above. That Richard ordered the death of the Princes is not the only interpretation of the events of 1483. But surely it is the most likely? I worry that a pre-conceived idea of Richard’s character prevents people from accepting evidence for what it is. This is a dangerous way of doing history. We know so little about the hearts and minds of the people we study.

Henry VII is a king I really admire. I believe he made important shifts in the structures of government which helped pave the way for Parliamentary democracy (which is not to suggest that Henry was in any way a democrat himself). I also think that there is evidence to suggest his character was considerably less blood thirsty than kings that came before or after him.

But I must accept that overwhelming circumstantial evidence suggests that he framed and judicially murdered Edward, Earl of Warwick. The young man had spent much of his life in prison and was probably what we would today consider a vulnerable adult. Whatever Henry’s dynastic reasons for his actions, this was a terrible crime.

Nevertheless, this doesn’t take away from Henry’s achievements as king. Nor does Edward IV’s murder of the old, virtuous and mentally unstable Henry VI diminish his legacy. He showed great skill in managing the nobility and restored order to England. It does make them both three-dimensional characters that need to be studied and analysed. Admired and respected, but never worshipped and revered.

By taking the same approach with Richard, we have a chance to truly redeem his reputation. To rescue him from both his status as unreconstructed monster and revered cult figure. He can finally emerge as the bearer of the broken humanity we all share and the wielder of skills and qualities that deserve to be remembered.

While we’re talking about the Tower of London, we must remember that our wonderful Royal palaces and historical landmarks have taken a real hit during the lockdown. Let’s make sure we get visiting as soon as we’re allowed, to show them our support. Keep an eye on the Historic Royal Palaces website as I’m sure they’ll let us know when doors are open again.

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5 common ‘Royal title mistakes’ in the British media

Posted on June 19, 2020June 19, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

The rules governing the use of Royal titles are both captivating and convoluted. They have evolved over a thousand years with new protocols created to address specific situations. They are not always logical and even super-cool Royal watchers can struggle to make head and tail of them.

Those hoping to get their head around the practices and protocols, won’t get much help from the popular press. Almost every time a news outlet tries to explain how a title works, they get more wrong than right.

Here’s the top 5 errors I’ve noticed in British media in recent months.

Female-line grandchildren of a monarch do not get Royal titles

1. Princess Anne ‘chose’ not to give her children Royal titles

The use of Royal titles has been strictly governed since 1917. Legal documents regulate the usage of the style of His/Her Royal Highness and the ‘titular dignity’ of Prince or Princess. Under current laws they do not extend to female-line grandchildren of monarchs.

According to ‘letters patent’ issued in 1917 and adapted in 2013, Royal styles go the children of a sovereign, children of sons of a sovereign and the children of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales.

As such, Anne’s children, Peter and Zara Phillips were never entitled to be a Prince or Princess. It is probable that Anne’s first husband, Mark Phillips was offered an Earldom and that this was refused. Had the couple accepted, Anne’s children would have been styled as the children of an Earl, as Princess Margaret’s offspring were. So it is probable that Anne effectively turned down titles for her children – but not royal titles.

2. Kate and Meghan are not princesses because they are not blood royals

I understand where this comes from. But it’s not quite correct. Under the British system a wife takes her husband’s precedence. She is the feminine version of all her husband’s titles (there are exceptions such as in the Church and the military). So the wife of a Prince is always a Princess.

Under strict court etiquette, is not appropriate to refer to a Princess by marriage as ‘Princess Firstname.’ Catherine is ‘Princess William’ rather than ‘Princess Catherine’. Meghan is ‘Princess Henry’.

Because both their husbands are also Dukes, they are referred to as Duchesses. Whenever an individual is a peer or peeress – royal or not – first names are rarely required. Our future Queen is not ‘Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge’ but simply ‘The Duchess of Cambridge’. This can change in widowhood where it has become customary to combine first names with titles.

Catherine became a Princess the second she married the Duke of Cambridge

3. Diana was made a Princess, but Kate has yet to be so

No. Diana and Catherine both acquired the status of Princess by marriage (see above). No one has actually been ‘made a princess’ since the reign of Edward VII (although special measures were taken to ensure Anne was a Princess ahead of her mother’s ascension).

Despite being popularly referred to as ‘Princess Diana’, the late Princess of Wales was never officially styled as such. When the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge married, the Palace made it clear they were perfectly relaxed about people calling the Duchess ‘Princess Catherine’. But the style is not officially acknowledged at court.

4. William and Harry’s wives were given titles, but Eugenie’s husband was not because she is lower down the line of succession

Royal titles have little to do with place in the succession but much to do with gender.

Under the British system – and indeed most western systems – a wife takes on the style and precedence of her husband. As stated above, the current Duchesses of Cambridge and Sussex acquired their status simply by virtue of marriage. But husbands of titled women derive no style or precedence from their wives. That’s why the Duke of Edinburgh is not known as ‘King.’

In days gone by, untitled men marrying a Princess would be offered a peerage title – typically an Earldom. Their children would thus enjoy aristocratic styles. But those days are gone.

The Duke and Duchess of Sussex have agreed not to use Royal titles when working commercially

5. The Queen has removed the style ‘HRH’ from Harry and Meghan.

Not quite, though the early communication around this was confusing. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex have agreed not to use their Royal styles when conducting commercial work. We are yet to see exactly how they will style themselves on such occasions. My guess is that they will act as if they are untitled and use their peerage title as if it were a surname. So for example, if Meghan stars in a film, she might simply be credited as ‘Meghan Sussex.’

This would be consistent with what other aristocrats and Royals do. The Duchess of Kent styled herself as ‘Mrs Kent’ when working as a music teacher. The Queen’s nephew calls himself ‘David Linley’ when trading. His actual name is David Armstrong-Jones, but until his father died his courtesy title was ‘Viscount Linley.’

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Lockdown must-reads #10: The Mountbattens by Andrew Lownie

Posted on June 11, 2020June 11, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

Let’s be honest: lockdown sucks! But it does mean there’s more time for reading. Over the next couple of weeks, I will review 10 books which all Royal History Geeks should add to their reading list

I have no memory of the famous assassination of Louis ‘Dickie’ Mountbatten. It took place three years before my birth and was never something mentioned at school. Yet, growing up in a coastal city with strong naval presence, his name was one I knew well. The pub at the end of my road was even named after him.

Perhaps it was for these reasons that I decided, aged about 15, that he was my favourite minor royal of the 20^th Century. Yes, you’re right. I was a super-cool teenager.

Discovering my interest, some friends of my parents procured me a book about the late Earl when they passed a charity shop. It was a kind gesture. But the book was second hand and dusty with yellow peeling pages. More worryingly the contents were dry and – most unwelcoming to a teenager – almost entirely reverential.

Such a book could simply never do justice to the scandalous Earl Mountbatten of Burma. It certainly failed to capture the spirit of Edwina, his equally sensational Countess. And, with thanks to a dial up modem and the early days of the internet, I soon found out just how much my dusty manuscript had been missing.

‘The Mountbattens’ by Andrew Lownie is an altogether more vibrant, more honest and more satisfying account. A collective biography of the couple, it’s 388 pages explore their personal and public adventures in glorious – and occasionally graphic – detail.

The book guides us through the lives of both protagonists in parallel up until the point they meet and marry. For many Royal History Geeks, the early adventures of Dickie – or His Serene Highness Prince Louis of Battenburg, as he was known for the first 17 years of his life – will more immediately pique interest. It was he that had the royal connections and it was he that was closer to the famous events of that era that many of us will recognise.

As the narrative progresses however, Edwina and her story more than hold their own. Not one to take a back seat, the wealthy heiress never risks becoming a supporting character. The pages that explore her relationship with Jawaharlal Nehru, India’s first prime minister, are among the most tantalising in the book.

The Mountbattens were at the centre of major events ranging from world wars to royal weddings. But their role in delivering the independence of India will be the one that history remembers. And their actions in this role, the ones that historians will judge. Current analysis tends to be kind to the couple. The author seems to agree.

Despite the high drama of their combined career, the book’s most intriguing pages are those that touch on the personal. I had always known that the Mountbatten’s ‘enjoyed’ an open marriage. But I’d failed to realise was that this was initially to accommodate Edwina’s desires and interests. Dickie, Lownie tell us, was hurt by his wife’s distance and adultery. It would, however, be an arrangement that the Earl would more than grow in to.

Whatever the ups and downs of their relationship, their parting was a painful one. Lownie describes Edwina’s quiet death and Dickie’s grief with perfect poignance. In contracts, Dickie’s assassination in 1979 is detailed with the drama it deserves.

The rumoured bisexuality of Louis Mountbatten is explored at length. The author seems convinced that evidence for homosexual behaviour exists and his presentation of said evidence is certainly compelling. While this is hardly likely to ruffle many feathers with the modern reader, darker accusations of under-age sexual encounters exist. The author does not dismiss them.

Throughout the book, the slow transformation of Prince Louis of Battenburg and Miss Edwina Ashley to the Earl and Countless Mountbatten of Burma is told with a pacey, compelling tone and accessible language. It is perfectly suited to those who already know much about the controversial couple and to Royal History Geeks that have never come across them before.

The Mountbattens are still figures of living memories. It is probably too early to measure their impact and assess their legacy. But as this biography shows, their marriage, lives and career contain all the necessary ingredients to establish the couple as figures of interest for future generations. Let’s hope that as tomorrow’s historians take up this mantle, they do so with the acute observations, careful analysis and skilful articulation of this biography.

The Mountbattens: Their Lives & Loves by Andrew Lownie is available from Amazon.

However, please consider supporting your local book seller. If you are based in the UK, search for your local book seller at the Book Seller Associations website.

WATCH: Did Richard III kill the Princes in the Tower?

Posted on June 8, 2020June 8, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

People often claim that Richard’s reputation was distorted by his Tudor successors. But by examining the source material from Richard’s own time, we can be relatively clear on the events of 1483. We can make a reasonable assessment as to what happened to the Princes in the Tower.

In this video I make a couple of slip ups. I say ‘Richard II’ when I mean ‘Richard III.’ I refer to a source as the third ‘edition’ of the Croyland Chronicle rather than the third ‘continuation.’ Oh dear. It’s a good thing I’m pretty.

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