Anne Boleyn is one of history’s villains. So why do we love her so much?

Posted on March 14, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

Maybe it was ‘The Other Boleyn Girl’’. ‘The Tudors’ probably packed a punch. It could just be the natural fascination we all have with tales of triumph that turn to disaster. But whatever the reason, Anne Boleyn is loved by 21^st century history geeks.

I guess her courtship with Henry had all the great ingredients of a classic love story – and her downfall the perfect tragedy. She captures the imagination of the romantic, and as Alison Weir notes, in our 21^st century mindset, she has reached the status of ‘celebrity’.

She deserves our interests – maybe even our fascination. But should she really command our love?

Let’s recap for a minute. This is a woman who ruthlessly forced a devout and caring woman off the throne and did her level best to ensure that she was treated as badly as possible for the remainder of her life. As Queen she did all she could to see the Lady Mary, Catherine of Aragon’s daughter humbled and harmed. If anyone got in her way, she destroyed them.

I’m not sure I’d want a girl like that for a friend.

Perhaps we’re reacting to centuries of Anne being treated unfairly. The ruthless ‘qualities’ that allowed her to prosper were much admired in men. Indeed, the equally savage Henry VIII has gone down in history as one of England’s greatest Kings. And of course, the (almost certainly) false charges levied against her have meant that previous generations regarded her as a sexually perverse harlot.

Her intelligence, her cunning and her determination now receive much greater recognition from historians. This is positive. But am I the only one that thinks there’s something freakishly ironic about how the blogsphere fawns over Anne as if she’s some kind of tragic heroine. If the character of Anne Boleyn was cast on Eastenders she would be seen as far worse than a soap bitch. She would be hounded as an undisputable villain.

Okay Boleyn fans…are you going to let me get away this this? Show me where I’m going wrong.

Why Lancaster DID have a better claim than York – at least according to Edward III

Posted on March 12, 2017March 12, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

Loyal readers will know that I’m something of a ‘Wars of the Roses’ fan. I mean, obviously I’m not actually a fan of any war – but you get what I mean.

Some argue the wars ended in 1471, others in 1485. In reality they are still bring fought today – just on social media rather than the battle field.

Or, to be less dramatic, it is fair to say that the debate around which Royal House – York or Lancaster – had the best claim to the throne is still hotly debated.

The Wars of the Roses saw the houses of York and Lancaster fight for the throne
between 1455 and 1470

The argument – with respect to my fellow geeks – is not always at the most sophisticated level. A slightly flippant summary would go along the lines of ‘I’m a Tudor geek so Lancaster had the best claim’ to be retaliated with ‘York had the moral high ground because I fancy Max Irons.’

Up until recently, my more moderate view was that ‘York probably had the best claim’ while accepting it wasn’t a black and white issue. I even created some quite hilarious memes to that effect. But there’s a reason I decided to pick up my virtual biro and pen this post. That’s right super cool readers…following a bit more research, I have changed my mind.

Let’s have a quick recap. In 1399, Henry Bolinbroke deposed his cousin Richard II and established the house of Lancaster on the throne of England.

Henry IV – as Bolinbroke became – was the eldest boy of John of Gaunt – third son of Edward III.

The Lancastrian crown then passed safely down the dynasty for three generations until in the late 1450s people got fed up with the well meaning but weak Henry VI who was probably mentally ill. He was challenged for the throne by his distant cousin Richard, Duke of York – a descendant of Edmund of Langley, Edward III’s fourth surviving son.

On the face of it therefore, York’s claim seems pretty weak; Langley was certainly the younger brother to Gaunt. But here’s the snag. Richard was also descended from Philippa of Clarence, the daughter of Lionel of Antwerp – Edward III’s second son. So, if you accept that women can transmit their claim to the throne to their male descendants, York really did have a claim worth taking seriously.

Richard, Duke of York claimed the throne as a descendant of Lionel of Antwerp,
Edward III’s second son

By the end of the end of the 15th century, descent through the female line was broadly accepted as a legal basis for succession. Henry VII loosely claimed the throne through his mother, Margaret Beaufort and his son had a far greater claim through descent from Elizabeth of York. Perhaps because my interest in history began in the Tudor era, I have always been tempted to read this mindset into earlier generations and this might be why I had always assumed York’s claim was slightly superior, despite recognising it was complicated.

However, the more I’ve researched the politics, law and conventions of the 14th century, the more I’ve begun to question my thinking. I’ve discovered that- while Salic law, which prohibits women from inheriting the throne was never formally introduced – the trend toward male-only inheritance was gaining currency. Many nobles were entailing their estates so that only sons could inherit.

It would seem that the great Edward III has similar sentiments. Disaster struck the Royal House when Edward the Prince of Wales (known to history as the ‘Black Prince’) died prematurely leaving one surviving son behind. In a world of high mortality, the succession was far from secure.

To the political classes it was unclear whether the next heir after Prince Richard (the future Richard II) was Roger Mortimer, son of Philippa of Clarence (the heir general) or John of Gaunt and his son (the heirs male).

Essentially, because the Duke of York inherited the Mortimer claim via his mother, it is this question that legitimised the Wars of the Roses. But, little did I realise until recently, it is actually one that Edward III had decided to answer. In 1376 he created a document that made clear his intent to entail the throne through the male line. Should Richard II’s line fail, his intent was that the crown should pass to Lancaster.

The mighty Edward III wanted his throne to pass only
through the male line

Legally, the only thing that could really override this would be if Richard had nominated a successor – but he appeared to leave the question open, possibly for political leverage. However he did ultimately name Henry as his successor by the handing over of the ring – admittedly under some duress. When Parliament accepted Henry IV’s sovereignty in 1399 it was probably not because of the size of his army – and indeed there is much to suggest that his ‘coup’ was relatively bloodless – and more to do with the fact that, once a case could be made to dispose Richard, a Lancastrian succession was legally appropriate.

That said, there were those in the reign of Henry IV who always believed the Mortimer claim to be superior – although usually because they had something to gain from thinking like that. I accept this is not a closed conversation.

But what you can’t do, is start applying attitude changes retrospectively. By the 1460s, people were more open to female succession in the 1460s. To an extent, even Lancastrians had to be. Henry VI’s unimpressive efforts in reproduction were leaving Margaret Beaufort as one of the talked about candidates for the crown. But you can’t wind the clock back and uproot a dynasty and this is why no one took York’s claims particularly seriously until he made them good on the battle field. When changes in attitude take place and the rules of succession evolve, it is generally accepted that these apply only to future generations.

Lady Margaret Christ's College Library.jpg

In her youth, Margaret Beaufort was talked about by some Lancastrians as the
potential heir to the throne

I’ve had blogged previously about why Edward IV must be deemed a usurper; this post reinforces my views. The House of York did not have a superior claim to the throne than Lancaster; instead they did what other usurping dynasties before them had done – they allowed might to make right and came up with a justification to rubber stamp it. Lancaster had done the same in 1399 by attempting to claim senior descendants from Henry III. It just so happens that York’s claims had a little more credibility to back up their military antics.

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The Tudors didn’t destroy Richard’s reputation – he did that himself!

Posted on January 29, 2017January 29, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

People have been asking me recently what I think about historical fiction. I assume what they mean by that is ‘how much does it matter whether fiction based on history actually follows the facts.’

And my answer? Not much. Personally, I much prefer fiction that sticks as closely to the available facts as possible while adding some snap, crackle and pop where it’s needed. Philippa Gregory and last year’s ‘Victoria’ series just about got it right for me. But ultimately if something is labelled fiction than that’s exactly how it should be treated. Readers and watchers should not assume they are getting the factual truth and if they do, that is not the fault of novelists or TV producers.

But there is a genre of history that worries me much more. The 1 hour documentary. I understand – and accept – that things need to be simplified for TV. I recognise that there has to be different entry points for varying levels of knowledge and interest and many of my curiosities were sparked through this very medium. However, I am getting a little fed up with the huge oversimplifications that have been transmitted through our TV screens in the last year or so which make a big impact on popular understandings of the historic debate.

Lucy Worsley’s ‘History’s Biggest Fibs’ got me a bit riled on Thursday night. While I did really enjoy much of it, the assertion that the ‘Wars of the Roses’ was a Tudor myth and that Richard III’s name was blackened by his successors, drove me crazy.

I’ve blogged previously about the Wars of the Roses, but can I please just but in a plea for sanity when it comes to the accusation that the Tudors led some kind of deliberate propaganda campaign to tarnish the previously saintly reputation of the last Plantagenet King.

File:Henry7England.jpg

Of course Tudor writers would have been mindful of the need to please the new dynasty and this would have been reflected in their writing. As Worsley notes, John Rouse’s work is a perfect example of this – he was complimentary about Richard in his life time but negative about him once Henry Tudor came to power.

However we now know that things once believed to be a Tudor invention have turned out to be true. Richard’s curved spine, so often dismissed as Tudor spin has been established as fact.

The account of Dominic Mancini – dated 1483, two years before the Tudors took over – makes it clear that people strongly suspected Richard in his own lifetime of usurping the throne and doing away with the Princes.

Of course Richard’s reputation suffered under his successors. Things rooted in truth were exaggerated and he was not treated with a sense of balance and objectivity. But the beginnings of his huge unpopularity and the link to the crimes many hold him responsible for, can clearly be found in his own reign and lifetime.

Tudor history Queen turns her gaze on medieval matriarchs

Posted on January 19, 2017January 20, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

One of the world’s most popular historians – Alison Weir – has just announced plans for a new series of four books examining the lives of England’s medieval Queens from 1066 to 1485. Earlier today, the following announcement appeared on her website:

“I am delighted to announce a new series of four non-fiction books on England’s Medieval Queens. It will tell the story of England’s queens from the Norman Conquest of 1066 to the Battle of Bosworth in 1485. The five Norman queens feature in Queens of the Conquest, the first book in the series, which will be published on 26 September in the USA and on 28 September in the UK. More details to come!”

How do we at Royal History Geeks feel about this? Do you really need to ask…?

I am of course, beyond excited. If you’ve read a few posts, you’ll be aware that Alison Weir is this site’s preferred historian, possessing a rare ability to combine robust research skills with buckets of intelligent empathy and understanding of human nature.

But it’s also more than that.

Like many history fans, my interest began with the Tudors. As I progressed my understanding of the period I realised that I needed to better understand the era before that and then the era before that…and so it continued. The War of the Roses is now clearer to me, I’ve just about got my head around the Plantagenets. But the Normans – the subject of the debut book in the series – remain a bit of a mystery – a piece of time currently fogged in my mind. Weir’s appealing style should do just the trick in shedding extra light. Studying it all from the perspective of prominent women will also add a fresh perspective.

We have to wait until September until the first offering emerges; but rest assured geeks – when the time comes the first book shall be quickly read and reviewed.

Was the Queen overruling the Prime Minister as recently as 1992?

Posted on January 16, 2017January 16, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

Image: By dbking from Washington, DC

Elizabeth II has become legendary across the globe as a dignified but silent figure who sees all but comments little. However, according to comments in a recent minister’s memoirs she may be more involved in the running of Government than many people realise.

The Queen is a figure head. She leads the nation through her example, her conviction and her remoteness from politics. She is a towering ambassador for the UK – and her other realms and territories – and brings substantial revenue into businesses, households and the treasury coffers. But when it comes to the political operating of the country, technically running in her name, she is entirely uninvolved.

Or is she?

Recently I have been pouring through the incredibly compelling memoirs of Ken Clarke, the veteran Conservative minister who served the Heath, Thatcher, Major and Cameron administrations. It’s full of twists and turns and no pages are more exciting than those focused on the political upheaval that plagued the Major government over the European Union and the Maastricht treaty (USA and younger readers – don’t worry – you won’t need to know anything about these issues to follow the rest of the post).

Image result for ken clarke kind of blue

According to Clarke, when Prime Minister John Major was aware that his personally negotiated treaty might not obtain a parliamentary majority he pondered resigning (this is well attested to elsewhere). However, according to a conversation that Ken had with John Patten (a fellow government minister), the Prime Minister had been spoken to Robert Fellowes, the then private secretary to the Queen who had ‘hinted’ that if Her Majesty were asked for a dissolution of Parliament – and therefore a general election – she would refuse. Apparently she had not admired the way that former PM Ted Heath had ‘taken it to the Country’ when he failed to settle an industrial dispute. She did not want a repeat performance.

For obvious reasons, this account can’t just be taken as read. It relies on John Patten having heard if accurately from either Major or someone close to him, Major having correctly understanding what Fellowes was ‘hinting’ at and Fellowes himself having rightly understood the Queen’s actual sentiments. But with those caveats in mind, the story does have a ring of credibility to it. The casual way that Clarke mentions it – almost in passing and to illustrate a bigger point – suggests that people close to power found it credible and perhaps, that such interventions from the Palace were not wholly exceptional.

John Major 1996.jpg

Image By PFC TRACEY L. HALL-LEAHY, USA

Today, because of the ‘fixed-terms Parliament Act’, the Queen has a much reduced role in the dissolution of Parliament and the calling of General Elections. But prior to 2010 a Prime Minister would effectively determine the timetable by asking the Queen to grant a dissolution, which would in turn lead to a General Election. No Parliament was allowed to sit for more than 5 years, but if a Prime Minister thought things were going well, they generally liked to ‘go to the country’ after 4.

No doubt some will harp on about the Queen’s active involvement in so recent a political event, claiming it is undemocratic and an example of why the monarchy must go. But I see it very differently. In the situation in question, the country had only just had an election. Was anyone really in the mood for another one? More importantly, ensuring that the elected Government don’t try and use the polls as a political tactic to solve disputes that they themselves are supposed to handle is, in and of itself, a safeguarding of democracy.

Every head of state – elected or otherwise – is meant to enforce the constitution and hold the Government to account for it. Clearly in the UK’s uncodified system that can be tricky at times. I wonder if those of us fortunate enough to dwell on these isles realise how lucky we are that these judgements fall into the hands of a canny, wise and experienced stateswoman who has no agenda save her devotion to duty.

5 books on my New Year reading list

Posted on January 4, 2017January 4, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

I begin 2017 with a confession – I’m well behind on my reading. Strikingly, shockingly and chronically behind. For anyone this is bad. For someone who has made it his business to keep on top of the latest offerings from popular historians, it’s an absolute disaster.

I’ve got some catching up to do. So for the first part of 2017, whenever I’m not working, writing or trying to lose a little of the Christmas weight, you’ll find me with my nose in a book (or at least my kindle). Part of the fun is that I don’t know yet exactly what my reading list will look like. There are however 5 books – not necessarily new – that I simply must read sooner rather than later. I thought I’d share those with you.

Image result for Game of Thrones by Sarah Gristwood

Game of Queens by Sarah Gristwood – This ambitious books claims to capture the lives of the powerful women of the 16^th century. There’s been much debate in recent years as to whether modern, feminist writers are giving too much attention to women from this period, but I for one am enjoying seeing this long-term inbalance corrected. Gristwood’s ‘Blood Sisters’ which charted the collective lives of the women at the heart of the Wars of the Roses was one of the most readable history books I have ever thumbed my way through so I have high hopes for her new offering.

Image result for The Lives of Tudor Women by Elizabeth Norton

The Lives of Tudor Women by Elizabeth Norton– I was first introduced to Norton’s stimulating style through her biography of Margaret Beaufort and I’m intrigued as to how she has tackled the task of exploring ‘the seven ages of the Tudor woman, from childhood to old age.’ As I said above, the lives of powerful 16^th century woman have finally started to capture the public’s imagination. This book, as I understand it, will explore the stories of some lesser known characters and provide a rich tapestry of cultural context. If so, then it’s a book I will enjoy.

Image result for Elizabeth: The Forgotten Years by John Guy

Elizabeth: The Forgotten Years by John Guy – Strangely, my knowledge of Elizabeth I is shockingly limited and what I do know tends to centre around a few dramatic episodes – upbringing, love life and her dealings with that pesky Queen of Scots. I’ve been keen for a while to get under the skin of the politics of her reign, particularly the latter half and when I saw a review of this book on the Guardian website I knew it would be added to the reading list. I know little of the writer so it’s something of a shot in the dark – but come on, geeks; experimenting is all part of the fun.

Image result for Magna Carta by Dan Jones

Magna Carta by Dan Jones – Okay, okay I know this book is nowhere near ‘new’ – but I never said that only newish books had a place on this list. Dan Jones’s offering was originally published in 2014 and despite the ‘Magna Carter’ fever that dominated 2015, I just didn’t have time to read it. However, I thoroughly enjoyed ‘the Hollow Crown’ (and found ‘the Plantagenets useful) so it was always inevitable that I would one day dust off the cover of the book in question and give it the once over. 2017 will be its lucky year.

Image result for Anne Boleyn, A King’s Obsession by Alison Weir

Anne Boleyn, A King’s Obsession by Alison Weir – Hot on the heels of the first book in her ‘Six Wives’ novel series last year, the Queen of history, Alison Weir has been teasing her facebook friends with the twists and turns that she took when writing her fictional account of Anne Boleyn’s life. Given Weir’s experience and expertise there is no real doubt as to the quality and historical reliability of this eagerly-awaited book, expected to hit shelves in May. But there is much anticipation as to what we might learn. The author herself has admitted that writing fiction gives her greater freedom to explore theories and suggestions that have no place in a history book but are nonetheless a valid contribution to the debate. With most of Anne’s letters lost to us, her inner thoughts can only largely be guessed at. Weir’s informed portrayal of who Anne truly was as a person will be one that many are waiting for.

Anyway, all five books shall be duly reviewed on this site. But until then…let me know what is on YOUR reading lists for 2017 geeks!

When was Margaret Beaufort born and why does it matter so much?

Posted on December 24, 2016December 24, 2016 By Gareth - Editor

(c) Christ’s College, University of Cambridge; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

The Tudor era can boast a plethora of family feuding, crimes of passion, collections of tragedy and acts of cruelty that would stretch the imaginations of even today’s most far-fetched soap opera writers.

And of course, Tudor addicts like me, will know that the founding of the Royal dynasty begins with one savage, selfish and almost unforgivable act of cruelty. That of a pre-teen child bride being forced into marriage with a man twice her age and exposed to sexual intercourse and the dangers of child birth long before her body, let alone her mind, was ready for either.

Margaret Beaufort fascinates me. I have spent more time trying to stitch the fragments of her life together than I have any other member of history’s royalty. And that’s why, as I have trawled through some of her earlier biographies, I have been fascinated to find that many have underplayed the trauma of her early years by making a simple but significant error, calculating her birth date at 1441 rather than the correct 1443.

Why does this matter? Because it, in part, dilutes the tragedy. If born in 1441 than Margaret fell pregnant at 14 and gave birth at 15. Still far too young of course – but it would have meant both her body and mind would have enjoyed two extra years of development and by the standards of the day, this would have been far more socially acceptable.

The origins of the error are fairly simple and apparently arise from misinterpreting evidence given at the inquest of her father’s death. However, a much stronger case can be made for a 1443 birth date; in that year her father – preparing to go off on a military adventure – was negotiating the future of his unborn child should anything happen to him. Further to this a book of hours from the family has been discovered that states her birth clearly as 1443.

But there is another piece of evidence which, despite rarely cropping up in the debate, actually makes the case for a 1443 birth almost watertight.

In his funeral sermon of the venerable Lady, her long-time friend and confessor Bishop Fisher makes it clear that she gave birth ‘before she was 14 years of age.’

Surely, I hear you ask, this could just be a miscalculation? No, it can’t be.

By saying ‘not yet 14’ Fisher is not just making a passing comment on her age. In fact, were she 14 or over he probably wouldn’t have mentioned it.

Fourteen was the closest thing that this era had to an age of consent. Sex was just about permissible at 12 but few thought it appropriate before the age of 14. Sometimes, this proviso was even written in to marriage contracts.

By saying that she was ‘not yet 14 years of age’ Fisher is acknowledging – subtly and tactfully of course – the early tragedy that befell her. That a man had violated her before an age at which it was appropriate. That everything that followed – her ensuring her son’s early safety and fighting for continual advancement – shows her incredible strength of character by being able to overcome this early tragedy.

Recent students of Margaret Beaufort cannot help be amazed at how she survived and recovered from such a horrible early experience. It would seem, from Fisher’s comments, that contempories also had a sense of it. No wonder that respective for this great lady, was almost universal.

I’m not sure we needed another ‘Six wives’ series – but some of the critics can do one!

Posted on December 8, 2016December 8, 2016 By Gareth - Editor

I’ll admit, I was unsure as to whether we REALLY needed another series of the sixth wives of Henry VIII. Not only did we have one earlier this year but there’s several easy to read popular history books on the subject not to mention countless novels. Children even study it in school. Couldn’t we have delved into something else?

But even I was very disappointed to see such a sarcastic and bitchy review by Joel Golby in the Guardian of last night’s ‘Six Wives’ with Lucy Worsley on BBC 1, which was described as ‘awful’ and ‘tedious’. Even after reading it several times, I wasn’t exactly clear what the criticism was.

I’m not quite sure if Golby is saying that a) the story of Catherine of Aragon just isn’t interesting so no one should try and make it so, or that b) it is interesting therefore the dramatic antics of the presenter were unnecessary.

Either way it’s a criticism that makes little sense. How can anyone really fail to acknowledge the voyeuristic appeal of the marriage antics of England’s most powerful ruler? Yes, ultra-geeks like me would like to see other topics explored, but I recognise the reason we hear so much about this subject is because of its widespread popularity. And in my opinion, having Worsley pop up as a commentating cast member was a fresh and novel approach – I liked it.

So enough of the sarcasm thank you Mr Golby.

Last night, I watched the programme with an open mind. I’m still not sure it was the right choice of topic, but I will say this for it:

I enjoyed it. As I said above the approach was novel.
There were a few things I hadn’t considered before; the emphasis on Catherine’s first pregnancy being essentially a phantom is one that I hadn’t dwelt on before and I will be checking the history books to see how big a deal it was.
It got people talking. I was involved in several conversations on Twitter last night – and during today – about the show. People liked it and there’s clearly an audience for it.

Geeks like me are always going to want to go to the next levels, to greater depth. But for as long as there’s an audience for the Six Wives of Henry VIII, TV producers have every right to keep pumping out the content.

I’ll be watching next week.

Were Mary Tudor and Charles Brandon really a love match?

Posted on November 23, 2016November 23, 2016 By Gareth - Editor

As those of you who like nothing more than checking out my ‘book review’ section will know, I’ve recently digested Sarah-Beth Watkin’s new offering on Mary ‘the French Queen’ Tudor and her controversial husband, Charles Brandon. It got me thinking about a question I’ve been pondering on and off since Henry ‘Clark Kent’ Cavil first caught the world’s eye in the great drama/questionable history series ‘the Tudors’: were the couple truly a love match?

For some reason, I can’t shake the feeling that the fact the marriage was so controversial, somewhat distorts discussion on this subject. It should never have taken place at all: therefore,the argument goes, it must have been a union of passion. To add to the mix, Charles made up in sex appeal what he lacked in status and Mary was the royal beauty of her generation; is it any wonder they fell head over heels for each other?

But I’m not convinced. Charles of course was not faithful to Mary. While by the standards of the day this can hardly be counted against him it still has to raise questions for those who want to view their relationship through rose tinted glasses.

And when they married, Mary was a desperate woman. She had hated being married to the decrepit and aged French King and knew full well that her brother would break his promise to let her wed who she chose second time around. Did she rush to marry Charles the second he arrived in France to collect her because he was her long cherished desire? Or was he simply her nearest get out of jail free card?

Charles, similarly, had motives other then those of the heart that must be considered. He was a classic late-medieval ‘man on the make’ who had treated women appallingly in the past for his own financial betterment. Mary may not have brought him much in terms of cash – but marriage to the King’s sister would advance him hugely and give his children by her a claim to the throne. The fact she was affable and attractive might just have been a bonus.

Perhaps I’m being too cynical. There almost certainly were feelings involved on both sides. But the observations that their life together was never particularly happy and that Charles remarried with indecent haste after Mary’s death should give us pause before concluding that their rushed marriage was a crime of nothing but passion.

The couple certainly needed each other. But head, rather than heart, was probably what determined their actions.

Book review: The Tudor Brandons by Sarah-Beth Watkins

Posted on November 22, 2016November 22, 2016 By Gareth - Editor

The Tudor Brandons: Mary and Charles - Henry VIII's Nearest & Dearest by [Watkins, Sarah-Beth]

Ever since becoming a super-cool Tudor fan (which as you can imagine was some time ago) I’ve had quite a few questions about the King’s friend Charles Brandon and his royal bride Mary Tudor. Where does Charles suddenly spring from? What was Mary’s early life like? How well did they know each other before their elicit marriage? Why on earth was Mary called ‘Margaret’ in the TV series, ‘The Tudors’?

‘The Tudor Brandons’ by Sarah-Beth Watkins answers many of the above. A light and readable publication, this new book charts the recent history of the Brandons and details Mary’s upbringing and time in France before allowing the reader to share in their intertwined story as the ‘nearest and dearest’ of Henry VIII.

Sticking faithfully to the extensive source material available, the author creates an opportunity to explore the character of Henry VIII’s favourite sister, with the mutual affection between the royal siblings being both evident and charming. The contrast between her search for happiness and her husband’s quest for wealth and power – typical of a late-medieval ‘man on the make’ – sheds insight into their relationship.

And of course, the story of Mary and Charles is one that cannot end with them; this book also recounts how their descendants were to have a significant impact on the politics of the future.

Stylistically, this book is likely to divide opinion. Purists will love that the sources are laid bare without much interference from the author’s interpretation; romantics will miss the lack of speculation around thoughts and inner feelings that are ultimately forever lost to us.

While pleasing to a true geek like me, the frequency with which the primary sources are extensively quoted significantly slows down the pace of the story telling (perhaps an appendix featuring all of Mary’s letters might have been better). But this is a minor criticism compared to the overall readability and accessibility of the book.

‘The Tudor Brandons’ is the first book by Sarah-Beth Watkins that I have ever read; I very much doubt it will be the last. For any Tudor fan fascinated by these two characters, who for too long have been footnotes in the stories of others, this book is an essential read.

The Tudor Brandons, by Sarah Beth Watkins is published by Chronos Books and is available on Amazon from £9.98

The Wars of the Roses saw the houses of York and Lancaster fight for the throne between 1455 and 1470

Richard, Duke of York claimed the throne as a descendant of Lionel of Antwerp, Edward III’s second son

The mighty Edward III wanted his throne to pass only through the male line