A short story about Lady Margaret Beaufort and Henry VI

Posted on January 10, 2021January 10, 2021 By Gareth - Editor

Roses, thorns and friendships

1452
I knew I had to stop. Those tingling sensations of vanity were not becoming of a Christian girl. But by Saint George, they felt good.

I looked down again at my flowing scarlet gown. With my open sleeves and gold trimmings I felt as radiant as the sun. I had always known I was from a very great dynasty. For the first time, I felt as majestic as the mythical Yale in our family crest.

“Stop it!” I told myself quietly. Like Our Lady, good little girls were to be pious and penitent. But I didn’t want to “stop it”, whatever I told myself. Pride might be a sin, but it was better than that other feeling. That dark, creeping feeling which I couldn’t put into words. It had grown like a weed since we first stepped foot in Westminster, causing lumps to form in my throat and a knot to twist in my belly. If vanity were the only anecdote to that feeling, perhaps the Virgin might understand.

“Now remember Margaret,” mother said, “I will not be with you when you meet the King.” As she spoke she gently lifted my hair, and sprinkled it neatly around my shoulders. Mother revelled in setting my hair. She could never display her own. Wearing your hair loose is the preserve of Queens and virgins.

“Your uncle Somerset will present you. When he does, you will sink into a deep curtsey. The king will come before you and lift you up. Stand there as he talks to you and answer all his questions with the utmost reverence.”

For a minute, mother looked concerned.

“Actually Margaret, there’s a chance the king won’t lift you out of your curtsey. If he doesn’t, just stay there for as long as you can and then gently fall to your knees. In this dress, no one will notice.”

I looked up at mother. No doubt this gentle woman could see the nerves etched on my face.

“Look, you don’t need to worry. The customs at court are not that different to what we do at home when we have important visitors. I like to think you are a well brought up little girl.” She held my face in her hands and gave me a warm, loving smile. “I am confident you will do us proud.”

I trusted mother with my life. And she was right; though I was not quite 10 years old, the customs of court were within my grasp. I was good with grownups and I had already met dukes, bishops, mayors and all kinds of important men. That wasn’t what I was worried about. I wasn’t worried at all.

I was petrified.

No one knew for sure why the King wanted to see me. I was pledged in marriage to his half-brother, Edmund Tudor, a man I had never met. For mother, this was explanation enough. “He’s just curious to set eyes on his new sister-in-law” she had said, almost a little too cheerily. But I knew otherwise.

The King was angry with me.

Before my betrothal to Edmund, I was troth-plight to a boy named John de La Pole. We had met only once but I was under the power of his father, the Duke of Suffolk, who had been my guardian since I was a baby. Father had died when I was an infant and the King, his cousin, had entrusted my welfare to Suffolk. But the Duke was an evil man.

According to Parliament, Suffolk had done something terrible. Criminal! Evil! Mother had no idea that I knew. She probably thought I didn’t even know what ‘Parliament’ was but I’d heard the servants talking. Their words had lingered in my memory ever since.

“Take this linen up to Lady Margaret’s chamber.”

I knew I wasn’t allowed in the laundry room. Or the kitchens. Or the cellar. But I loved seeing how the servants worked, hearing their earthy language and I was small enough to hide in every nook and cranny of our home, Bletsoe Castle. Mother had always said my destiny was be a great lady, running my own house one day. Surely I needed to see how one actually worked?

“Don’t you mean, Queen Margaret,” said the maid who was now in possession of my linen sheets. She fell into a mock curtsey with a girly sneer. Katherine, the older woman who had instructed her, scowled.

“Don’t look at me like that,” the maid defended. “I’m only saying what they’re saying in Parliament. That Duke of Suffolk was going to kill the king and say Lady Margaret was the next in line. She would be Queen. And his son, the King.”

Blessed saints! The Queen. What did she mean, I was next in line? Why would my guardian want to kill the king?

“Now you listen to me,” Katherine was quiet, but her tone as fierce as a beast. “For as long as you want to work in this castle, you mind your tongue. If I catch you talking about anyone in the family like that again, I’ll have a good mind to cut it off for safe keeping.”

The maid blustered a bit. She looked on the verge of mounting a defence.

“I’m serious!” The older lady continued. “You want the Lady Margaret arrested? Beheaded for treason? You go around repeating stories and the next thing we know, people will think they started at this castle and they’ll see truth where there’s none. Is that what you want? Our precious little girl on the receiving end of the King’s anger. The little Lady Somerset dead? And it all on your conscience!”

The younger maid was sobbing. But emotion would grant her no reprieve.

“Linen! Chamber! Now!”

I scurried away as soon as the coast was clear and told no one what I’d heard. But when mother told me that the King had summoned us to court, I knew what it meant. It was time for me to get my comeuppance.

“Your grace,” my uncle said with a bow after I entered the King’s chamber. Mother was outside. Apart from my uncle and two ushers, I was alone with the king. I had imagined the king’s court to be swarming like a beehive. There were countless guards on the outside of the chamber. I have a wild imagination, Mother often upbraids me for it, but I couldn’t let go of the ridiculous notion that the King was like a prisoner.

“May I present my niece, Lady Margaret of Somerset.”

I moved as mother had instructed. I took a few steps so I was lined up to the King’s throne and dropped into a deep curtsey.

For a minute or two nothing happened. With my small legs, I couldn’t hold my curtsey much longer. As mother suggested, I fell to a kneel. My poor, rich garment was unblemished no more.

I looked up. Was I meant to look up? I had to see what was going on. Now that I was closer I could see the king clearer. He looked dazed, in some kind of stupor. I had imagined he would wear a crown but on his head was a velvet cap.

“My Lady Margaret of Somerset,” my uncle repeated. He raised his voice and lurched slightly in the king’s direction.

The king looked up slowly. He glanced my way, thought for a minute and smiled. There was a gentleness to his face and kindness in his eyes. Steadily he lifted himself from the throne. He came softly toward me as if he were floating. And then –

Blessed mother! He kneeled. The king kneeled and was crouched down just in front of me. His eyes were wide like a puppy. Now that they were closer, I could see the features on his long oval face. I knew he was a full-grown man, but his face was like a little boy’s.

“Lady Somerset,” he said as he took my hand. His eyes were calm and his touch was gentle. I was used to men like my uncle pulling me and pushing me but the king made me feel like he had all the time in the world.

“We are to be friends. You do want to be my friend don’t you?”

“Oh yes. Yes my lord. Very much.” I panicked. Should I have called him ‘your grace’? Why was he asking this? Were my fears confirmed? Was I here to prove my loyalty and answer for my inadvertent betrayal?

“Oh good,” said the king as he sighed with relief. “I need friends my lady.” He looked sad. For a few moments he said nothing.

“You are my friend so you will marry my brother… I love my brother… then we can all be friends together. We can protect each other and…“ He stopped suddenly. He turned over my hand in his as if to inspect my palm. He reached for my other hand and did the same.

“Lady Somerset, you have brought me no parchment.”

Fear stuck me like a lightning bolt. Here I was, kneeling before the King of England and I had come unprepared. Parchment? I had never thought to bring parchment. Why would I need it? But then what did I know of the court? How could mother have sent me in like this? Why was I not fully prepared?

“I’m sorry y-y-your grace,” I quivered. If he had shouted at me I could have born it. I am used to loud, shouty brothers but gentle disappointment was different. If I had failed him, my heart would break. I was using all my strength to fight back tears. Within seconds, I lost the battle.

“No, no, no my lady,” the king said gently. He lifted a finger to my cheeks and wiped away my tears. Then he cupped my hands in his, “I do not want the parchment but people usually bring it to me. They say if I sign it, it will make them happy. I want to make people happy.”

He paused again. This time for a minute or two.

“However, when I do, my friends get cross with me. William was my friend. He used to get angry with me for signing all the parchment. He said that when I signed it, people would be able to take my money and my land. That they would get jobs which were other people’s jobs. When he was with me, people wouldn’t bring me the parchment. Except sometimes…sometimes William brought me parchment too.

“William said that my real friends wouldn’t bring me parchment.” He grasped my cupped hands tightly, but not roughly. “You must be my real friend.”

I felt relief flood through my body. It was like someone had lit a candle in my chest. For the first time in days, the knot in my belly started to loosen. The king wasn’t trying to punish me. He wanted to be my friend.

“William was my friend for a long time,” the king continued. Tears started to well in his kind eyes. “He used to look after me. But then he had to go away and someone killed him. I did forgive him – the man that killed him. It was very hard but I prayed and the virgin helped me forgive him.”

My heart was breaking as I saw the sadness in this gentle man’s eyes. William must be Suffolk, my old father-in-law. Could he have been so wicked to betray a man that loved him thus?

“Now Edmund is my friend…Edmund is your uncle. He looks after me now….and the Queen. The Queen is my wife. She is beautiful and she helps me.

“And you will be my friend too. I can call you Margaret. Will you call me Henry?”

“Oh yes your gra – Henry.” I was almost laughing with joy. The King was not a strict, brutal ruler. He was a kind, pious, gentle man. And he wanted to be my friend.

“Those of us who are friends have to stick together. Edmund says some people don’t want to be my friend. The Queen says Edmund is right.”

I knew my uncle would be right, he always was. But what a strange notion. The king was clearly a kind man. Why wouldn’t anyone want to be his friend?

“I have a cousin called Richard,” he lowered his voice slightly. “He is the Duke of York. I like him but Edmund says he doesn’t like me.” He cupped his hand over her ear and whispered. “He wants me to die. He wants to be king.”

I let out an audible gasp. I felt the heat of anger like I’d never felt it before. How could anyone try and kill the King? He was God’s own anointed ruler! A lovely, kind man.

“Edmund says we must work together. He says you will help. He says that you and my brother – he’s called Edmund too – will go and live in Wales and help keep it safe for me. Will you Margaret? Will you be my friend and help me?”

I had never felt more sure of anything.

“Oh yes Henry,” I said at once. “I will always be your friend. I will always help you.” I meant every word. This Duke of York must be a brutal man. A villain. A beast. And if I had anything to do with it, he would never prosper.

Uncle Somerset walked toward us and placed his hand on the king’s shoulder. They must be great friends to enjoy such intimacy.

“Alas my liege, it is time for Margaret to return to her mother. The Duchess awaits her.”

The king looked dazed again. For a moment he looked up at my Uncle before turning his gaze back to me.

“Margaret, before you go, I need to tell you a secret.”

“Of course Henry.” I was a good secret keeper.

“I am scared. When I die, I might go to hell.”

This couldn’t be true. Henry was the most pious man I had ever met, much more than my brothers or my uncle. But fear flowed from his eyes, so I listened with fervour.

“I think God wanted me to be a monk. But I am a king instead. He might be angry with me. I try to be pious. – to hear mass as often as I can. I try and help the church, and in truth,” he again cupped my ear and whispered to me, “I still live like a monk.”

I didn’t know why the last part was a secret. Or what it meant. How could he live like a monk? Monks spent all day in prayer or in study. Henry had to rule. Never the less, my heart went out to him. I had so recently feared punishment for something I had no control over. This great and kind man was tormented by the same fear.

“I will pray for you every day,” I said with fervour. “I believe you to be a good and holy man. You will be upright in God’s eyes.”

The King paused for a moment. He seemed to be pondering something.

“Margaret most of my friends are older than me. When I die, you might be the only one left.”

I didn’t understand.

“I need you to pray for me then. Hold masses. Make sure my soul is protected. Will you do that for me Margaret? You might be the only one.”

“Oh yes Henry. I will pray for your soul with all the devotion of my own. I will lead a blameless life so that God, the virgin and all the saints will hear my prayers. Me and my husband will say mass and pay for more to be held. We will do everything for you. I promise Henry. I promise.”

Within seconds my uncle was leading me out. I had not even been in the king’s presence for half an hour, yet my life had changed forever. My world and my heart had doubled in size.

Only minutes before I was a little girl. My concerns had been for a simple gown and my fears, just of earthly punishment. Now I was a woman with a cause. I was a friend of the King. I must protect him from his enemies and when he finally departed the mortal coil, I would do everything in my power for his soul. This kind, gentle man was a saint, a hero, a champion, and the world needed to know it.

On that day, I found my purpose. I was prepared to devote my life to it.

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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6 things to remember when debating York vs Lancaster

Posted on June 6, 2020June 6, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

Being a Royal History Geek has its challenges. Our animated interest in the affairs of yesteryear can raise more than the occasional eyebrow among our friends and family. The Wars of the Roses, however, is one topic that people not quite as super-cool as us know a little bit about. Or at least, they think they do.

It’s not uncommon for the debate around who had the better claim to the throne – York or Lancaster – to come up in the mainstream media, at school or university and even down the pub.

So, next time you find yourself debating the age-old question, here’s six facts it’s worth remembering.

1. The Lancastrians were the senior heirs male of Edward III

Through John of Gaunt, Lancastrians were the heirs-male to Edward III

Richard II had the undisputed right to succeed Edward III in 1377. But once you get rid of him, the Lancastrian kings were the senior heirs male to Edward III. That means their line passed father to son to grandson, great-grandson etc in much the same way that the surname tends to. If you believed people in the 14^th and 15^th century preferred male-only succession, Lancaster are the clear winners

2. York were the senior heirs general of Edward III

Through Lionel of Antwerp, the Yorks were the heirs-general to Edward III

The house of York descended from Edward III’s second surviving son, Lionel of Antwerp. But the line passed through daughters twice before getting to Richard, Duke of York. If you believed that 14^th/15^th century folk were open to women inheriting the crown – or transmit their claim to their sons – then York come out on top.

3. Edward I may have permitted succession through the female line

Edward I may have gathered his family to read out the line of succession

Although details are a bit sketchy, it looks as if Edward I (1272-1307) was open to female succession. He seems to have told his family that the crown should pass first to his sons and their descendants, thereafter to his daughters and their descendants. This is good news for the Yorkist claim.

4. Edward III entailed succession through the male only line

Edward III imitated the trend of landowners and entailed the crown in the male line

In about 1377, Edward III left a document suggesting that descent should only be in the male-line. This is a coup for the Lancastrians. It specifically names the Duke of Lancaster and his son before the Mortimers (ancestors of the Yorks). But even more importantly, it ties into a wider trend. In the late 1300s, landowners were trying to entail their estates to male-heir only. Edward III’s decision to do the same with the crown may have been indicative of attitudes at the time.

5. Richard II may have nominated Mortimer as his heir

Richard II created confusion around who is heir was

According to the Eulogium Historium, Richard II recognised Mortimer as his heir in the parliament of 1385 or 1386. Mortimer was the grandson of Lionel of Antwerp, second son of Edward III. If true, this is good news for Yorkists. Richard, Duke of York, was Mortimer’s grandson. But historians debate whether it really happened. The official record doesn’t mention it.

6. No one cared about any of this in 1460 or 1461

28,000 men lost their lives at the battle of Towton

No one really cared whether the Duke of York or Henry VI had the best hereditary claim from Edward III. Not even Richard himself really. Lancaster were the established dynasty. Henry VI was an anointed King and the son of a great man, Henry V. The nobility was reluctant to remove Henry, despite his disastrous reign.

It was ultimately the gentry that deserted Lancaster and backed Edward IV at the battle of Towton in 1461. None of them did so because of the ’superiority’ of the Yorkist claim. They, even more than the nobility, needed stability to return to England. They knew that Henry VI was effectively out the picture. Their choice was a full-blooded Plantagenet like Edward of York or a French woman who had gained a reputation for savagery.

28,000 men lost their life at Towton. Not a single one did so to defend constitutional purity.

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Lockdown must-reads #6: The Hollow Crown by Dan Jones

Posted on May 6, 2020May 6, 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.

For many years ‘The Wars of the Roses’ were confined to a paragraph or two in the introduction to Tudor history books. We, the readers, had to endure just a few lines about random battles, murderous uncles and cooky Plantagenet cousins. If we did, we knew we’d be treated to tales of religious reform, six wives and female succession.

But we didn’t know what we were missing. Under the skilful craftmanship of Dan Jones, this series of bloody conflicts finally take their place in the spotlight.

The 370-page publication spans a 45-year time period and touches on the reigns on five kings. But despite the breadth of the topic, Jones paints a vivid and detailed picture of the breakdown of England’s political system and the lust for power that followed it.

The book begins with the marriage of Henry VI’s parents. By beginning the narrative here rather than an earlier point in history, Jones is implicitly nailing his colours to the mast. Committed to the Tudor perspective that the conflicts have their origins in the downfall of Richard II? You’re going to disappointed. Sympathetic to the Whig notion that Edward III doomed his descendants to disaster? Look away now. Like recent scholarship, Jones roots the cause of conflict squarely in the ineffectual kingship of the last Lancastrian ruler.

As Henry grows, his inability to perform even the most basic facet of Kingship becomes increasingly obvious. For the best part of two decades the political establishments attempts to create a mechanism for governing England without a functioning monarch. But in the run up to 1450 it all came crumbling down

The 1450s is a decade of battles, high politics and low humanity. With vivid storytelling the author brings them to life. Characters like Margaret of Anjou, Richard of York and a succession of Somerset Dukes become real to us. Jones correctly notes that it is not until York puts his hand on the throne and claims the crown in 1460, that the Wars of the Roses can truly be called a dynastic conflict.

The book bounces through the early years of Yorkist rule under Edward IV. Like most accounts of the era, it focuses on his unpopular marriage to Elizabeth Wydeville, which in turn leads to a rebellion by Warwick and the second phases of the wars. The rest of Edward’s reign is centred on the fallout with his brother, Clarence. Eventually we follow the dramatic events of Edwards’s death, the brief succession of his son and Gloucester’s usurpation of the throne as Richard III. The author does well not to dwell on the fate of the princes in the tower. As Alison Weir has demonstrated, that topic requires a book of its own. (But let’s be honest, we all now Richard did it.)

In events familiar to Royal History Geeks, Henry VII ultimately wins the crown at Bosworth field. He holds the throne for almost 25 years and is succeeded by his son. But it is years before he is free from the threats of pretenders.

Like its predecessor, ‘The Plantagenets’, the book is ambitious in its scale. As a result, it cannot focus on any of either Edward IV or Henry VII’s reign in detail. But it does provide a cohesive overview that is essential for anyone looking to study either king in greater depth.

The book is lively and well crafted. Some of the sentences are almost poetic. It’s clear from the first few pages that Jones has grown as a writer since 2012’s ‘The Plantagenets’. (This may sound a little patronising. Let me be clear: I would give my right arm to be able to write a book as good as the Plantagenets.)

But perhaps the greatest achievement of this book is the way it makes ‘recent’ and innovative scholarship accessible. In the last three decades, historians such as John Watts and Christine Carpenter have boldly attempted to reconstruct the Kingship of Henry VI. They drive home its fundamental inadequacy from its inception. Jones’s work is the first attempt I have come across to draw on this scholarship and present it in the popular genre.

Since the discovery of Richard III’s remains, interest in the Wars of the Roses has reached fever pitch. Source material is scant and scholarship is complicated. But through well-written and beautifully crafted accounts like this, the public can access the latest thinking, correct misconceptions that arise from fiction and get a grip on one of England’s most intriguing sagas. Dan Jones sets the standard. If only more would rise to it.

The Hollow Crown – The Wars of the Roses and the Rise of the Tudors, 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: York vs Lancaster – who had the better claim to the throne?

Posted on April 26, 2020April 26, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

During a series of bloody battles, the Royal houses of Lancaster and York fought for the throne of England. The conflicts are known to us as the Wars of the Roses.

Both houses descended from Edward III. But who had the best claim to the throne?

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Was Margaret Beaufort’s final marriage ever more than a business arrangement?

Posted on April 3, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

This is the last video on Margaret Beaufort’s marriages – but NOT the last video in the Margaret Beaufort min-series.

Let me know what you think…

How did Margaret Beaufort feel about her marriage to Henry Stafford?

Posted on April 3, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

We’re continuing to ask questions about Margaret’s marriages – this time to Henry Stafford.

Is it me, or do I look particularly cute in this vid 😉

Did Margaret Beaufort ever love Edmund Tudor?

Posted on April 3, 2017April 3, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

I promised you a mini-series on Margaret Beaufort. And a mini-series on Margaret Beaufort you will get.

Here’s my mutterings on her first (proper) marriage.

What think you all?

NB: I make two mistakes in this video – one I didn’t realise until I uploaded it. Can you spot it?

A new video mini-series on Margaret Beaufort

Posted on April 3, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

Hi geeks! Currently ‘shooting’ a new video mini-series on the mother of the Tudors. Got some great questions in that I was going to answer all at once – but the video got way, way, way too long.

So here’s the intro. Pretty soon all the clips about Margaret and her marriages should be up. Hope you enjoy!

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 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

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

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

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