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

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

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

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

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

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

However, Rome would never be forgotten.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Anarchy, 1135-1154

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geoffrey Plantagenet and Empress Matilda

The story of The Anarchy begins with Empress Matilda. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eleanor of Aquitaine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Henry Plantagenet becomes King

Henry II and the Angevin Empire

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Legend of Eleanor Lives On

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

King Richard the Lionheart
And that brings us to 'Richard I', better known as King Richard the Lionheart, the most famous Crusader of all!  (Let us pause for the trumpets to blare!) According to my mother, King Richard the Lionheart was the man I was named for.  I was very proud to be named after the illustrious English King.  According to my father, our surname 'Archer' descended from Robin Hood and his Merry Men.   Gullible little critter that I was, wow, here I was... part Richard the Lionhearted and part Robin Hood!!   Alas, if only we could have stopped with the Adventures of Robin Hood starring Errol Flynn as Robin and Olivia de Havilland as Maid Marian.  That was defining movie of my childhood.  3 Oscars!  Much acclaim!

	In the movie, Robin Hood becomes my hero.  He is depicted as a heroic outlaw folklore who, according to legend, is a highly skilled archer and swordsman.  Traditionally dressed in Lincoln green, he is portrayed as a champion of the downtrodden, "robbing from the rich and giving to the poor" with the help of his loyal band of Merry Men.  He fights off the bad guys, keeping the Sheriff of Nottingham and evil Prince John at bay while noble Richard is away at the Crusades.  Then Robin Hood comes to the rescue of King Richard when he returns.  There is a joke in Hollywood that King Richard had an amusing nickname... ‘Richard of the Last Reel’.  Film buffs love to make fun of the fact that Richard appears at the end of every Robin Hood film as the heroic, and supposedly victorious, crusader monarch returning to punish treacherous Prince John and the wicked Sherriff of Nottingham. Action!  Adventure!  Courage!  Chivalry!  History!... well, not so much history.  To begin with, there are strong rumors that Richard did not even speak English.  In his whole reign, he spent no more than six months north of the Channel.  For that matter, imagine my pain when I discovered Robin Hood... the man who was the most famous Archer in English history... may not have actually existed. The subject of ballads, books and films, Robin Hood has proven to be one of popular culture’s most enduring folk heroes. Over the course of 700 years, the outlaw from Nottinghamshire who robs from the rich to give to the poor has emerged as one of the most enduring folk heroes in popular culture.   But did a real Robin Hood inspire these classic tales?
What a shame it was I had to grow up and learn the truth that the greatest Archer of all time was probably a Hollywood sham.  Robin Hood, Fact or Fiction?  The History Channel suggests that Robin Hood may have existed.  In fact, research has turned up mentions of eight different outlaws calling themselves 'Robin Hood'.  The problem is that the first known mention took place in 1225.  'Richard of the Last Reel' died in 1189.  Whether Richard met the legendary outlaw Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest, we do not know, but it seems kind of unlikely.  Personally I like the idea of weaving legends together.  I think this is a great idea.  Davey Crockett can be Abe Lincoln's best friend.   Thomas Jefferson can suggest improvements to Obamacare.  Vladimir Putin can assassinate John F. Kennedy with a magic bullet controlled by hackers.  Donald Trump can grope Pocahontas.  Why let the truth get in the way of a great yarn?? Alas, when I learned Robin Hood was only a legend, I was fit to be tied.  Half of my gallant identity was gone.  Well, no matter, I still had Richard the Lionheart, brave Crusader, wonderful King.  Yeah, well, then I discovered that Richard the Lionheart was pretty much useless as a King.  During his ten years reign as King, Richard spent at most six months of it in England.  The rest of the time he gallivanted across Europe and the Middle East involved in the Crusades.  Richard won a bunch of battles, but he was unsuccessful in retaking Jerusalem from his nemesis Saladin, the Muslim warlord.  Then Richard managed to get captured in Austria on his return home.  He spent nearly three years of his reign in captivity until the ransom was finally raised.  Once he was free, Richard returned for a couple of weeks, then left for France never even bothered to set foot in England again.  Richard spent his final years fighting battles to reclaim territory in Normandy.   My loyalty to Richard was further shaken when I discovered he was either gay or bisexual.  Despite being married, Richard did not have a child.  Nor did he bother to return to his wife following the Crusades.  In addition, there is a curious historical quote involving King Philip II of France.  Richard the Lionheart and Philip II of France “ate every day at the same table and from the same dish, and at night their beds did not separate them.”  Uh oh.  What could this mean?? However, historian Dr. John Gillingham discounted the idea that Richard was gay. "The idea wasn’t even mooted until 1948 and it stems from an official record announcing that, as a symbol of unity between the two countries, the kings of France and England had slept the night in the same bed. It was an accepted political act, nothing sexual about it; just two politicians literally getting into bed together, a bit like a modern-day photo opportunity." So what was the story on this kidnapping?  I hate to say it, but Richard was not the nicest guy.  During the Crusades, Richard quarreled constantly among the French, German and English contingents.  Irritated, they all went home, leaving Richard to fight on alone.  After a year's stalemate, Richard made a truce with the famous Saracen ruler Saladin and decided to head home.  However, there was one problem.  Towards the end of his Crusade adventure, Richard was stuck with over three thousand Muslim prisoners.  Tired of feeding them and unable to ransom them, Richard had their throats slit.  Richard's bad karma soon caught up to him. Bad weather drove him ashore near Venice.  Now he had to head home on foot.  Having insulted and alienated most of his Christian allies while on crusade against Saladin, Richard was unable to return to his kingdom in broad daylight.  He was caught sneaking in disguise through the territory of Leopold, Duke of Austria, one of the many enemies he had made in the Holy Land.  Leopold handed Richard over to the German emperor Henry VI, who ransomed him for the huge sum of 150,000 marks. This was literally a King's Ransom.  The ransom asked was about 2 billion pounds in today’s money.  Its payment required 25 percent of each Englishman’s income for a year. Interestingly, while Richard's ransom nearly bankrupted his country, he became famous and much-loved in the process.  How was this possible?  Now we recall that Richard was the son of Europe's most famous mothers, Eleanor of Aquitaine.  Eleanor just happened be in charge of running England while Richard was out of the country.  Queen Eleanor originated the enduring legend of ‘Good King Richard’ as a PR campaign by  to persuade the citizens of the Plantagenet empire to fork over the crippling ransom. The raising of the ransom was a remarkable achievement.  Negotiations for Richard’s release took the best part of a year, and after strenuous diplomatic efforts by Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, the payment of 100,000 marks – an enormous sum, perhaps twice the gross domestic product of the whole of England at the time – and the handing over of hostages, the King was released in early February 1194. After his release, Richard briefly returned to England and was crowned for a second time.  One month later he went to Normandy, never to return.  His last five years were spent in intermittent warfare against Philip II, his alleged former boyfriend. While besieging the castle of Châlus in central France he was fatally wounded and died on 6 April 1199. He was succeeded by his younger brother John. John?  John who?  Surely not the same Prince John who was the villain in the Adventures of Robin Hood?? Yup, same guy.  After all those years spent scheming during Richard's absence, John ended up being the King after all.  And why was John made King?  Because the guy historian Dr. John Gillingham claimed was straight didn't bother to produce an heir! So how did John turn out?  Not very well.  John has been termed 'the worst king in English history'. Short and fat, John was jealous of his dashing brother Richard I whom he succeeded.  John was cruel, self-indulgent, selfish and avaricious.  The raising of punitive taxes united all the elements of society, clerical and lay, against him. The Pope excommunicated him and the English barons ganged on him.  On 15th June 1215 at Runnymede the barons compelled John to sign Magna Carta, the Great Charter, which reinstated the rights of all his subjects.  John died from over-eating.  He was in hiding at the time, a fugitive from all his enemies.   Let's face it, when all was said and done, Richard the Lionheart didn't accomplish much.  Richard lived to the ripe old age of 42.  For ten of these years, 1189-1199, he theoretically ruled England...  History suggests Richard spent at most six months of his life in England.  So here are the facts:  Richard didn't win Jerusalem, he didn't produce an heir, he ignored his country, he nearly bankrupted it with his Crusades and his ransom, and stuck England with the worst ruler in history.  And yet, if people in the streets of any European city today were asked to name one English king, many would probably answer ‘Richard the Lionheart’!!  How utterly crazy is that?  Fortunately Richard had a good press agent... his Mom!  During his reign, all the people back in England heard nothing but good things about their missing Good King Richard.  Even today Richard retains a similar good fortune... or at least it did for a while.  Back in the early days of Hollywood, Richard was portrayed as a stud warrior, a defender of God, a mighty Crusader and a noble King.   Richard's reputation definitely benefitted from appearing at the end of every one of a half-dozen Robin Hood movies.  Richard's modern-day legend was built on Robin Hood's modern-day legend and Robin Hood's legend was built on Richard's and if you ask anyone, they will tell you both men were real and both were great heroes.  That's Hollywood for you.  Recently Hollywood has been less kind.  Revisionist history seems to have caught up with Richard.  His reputation has taken a few hits, notably in the movie 'Lion in Winter' where Richard can be seen frolicking in bed with Phillip of France.  So much for my role model. Wikipedia sums Richard up as 'a bad son, a bad husband, a selfish ruler, and a vicious man.  During his ten years' reign, he was in England for no more than six months, and was totally absent for the last five years.' And did Richard die a noble death?  Not exactly.  Richard died rather ingloriously from gangrene following a crossbow bolt wound in his shoulder.   Was Richard shot in battle?  No, Richard was walking along the walls of his castle without his armor on.  Some kid down below took a potshot and hit him.   Now that I think of it, an Archer killed King Richard.  No wonder I have identity issues... I am at war with myself. For a kid who grew up worshipping Robin Hood and King Richard, history has not been kind to me.  I thought I was named for the finest King in English history only to realize I was named for the most over-rated one.  But you know, it could have been worse.  Think about all the poor little German boys named 'Adolf'.

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

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

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

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

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

Edward III 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Lineage of Edward III

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edward, The Black Prince

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

In a move that would have far-reaching consequences, Richard II bypassed three able-bodied sons for succession to the crown.  By the laws of primogeniture, this ten year old boy, Richard II, succeeded to the throne ahead of Edward's three surviving sons This skipping of an entire generation left lingering claims to the throne among their various offspring, particularly among the Lancasters, descended from Edwards third son, John of Gaunt, and among the Yorks, descended from the second son Lionel and the fourth son Edmund.

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

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

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

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

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

Henry IV Unfortunately for Richard II, one of the men he picked on had the means to fight back.  In 1399, Richard II disinherited Henry Bolingbroke.  Determined to regain his estate, Henry, returned from exile and deposed Richard.  Richard picked on the wrong enemy.  Henry was not only his direct cousin, he was the son of John of Gaunt, the second wealthiest man in the kingdom.  It was a family feud, Plantagenet versus Plantagenet.   John of Gaunt's eldest son and heir, Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Hereford, had been exiled for ten years by King Richard II in 1398 as resolution to a dispute between Henry and Thomas de Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.  When John of Gaunt died in 1399, his estates and titles were declared forfeit to the crown.  King Richard II saw fit to do this because he had named Henry a traitor and changed his sentence to exile for life. Henry Bolingbroke returned from exile to reclaim his inheritance and depose Richard.  Henry invaded England in June 1399 with a small force that quickly grew in numbers due to Richard II's unpopularity.  Claiming initially that his only goal was to reclaim his lost estate, it soon became clear that Henry intended to claim the throne for himself.

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

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

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

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

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

Henry V

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

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

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

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

Meanwhile, the French had other ideas.  

Agincourt 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The battle was over.

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

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

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

The entire group of 18 died in their effort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catherine of Valois

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to be continued...
 

Henry VI

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

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

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

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

The War of the Roses was about to begin. 

The War of the Roses

ACT ONE: The Man Who Would Be King

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

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

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

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

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

William Shakespeare wrote 8 plays.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, maybe not.   But it should have.

Richard of York, Man of Ambition

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Queen Margaret of Anjou

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edmund Beaufort

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Plot Thickens

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

First Battle of St. Albans, 1455

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Battle of Wakefield, 1460

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Battle of Towton, 1461

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Battle of Hexham, 1464

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The War of the Roses

ACT TWO: Warwick's Betrayal

The House of Neville

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

There are two things to know about the Nevilles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cecily Neville and Richard of York

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elizabeth Woodville

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angry Reaction to the Edward's Surprise Marriage

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

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

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

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

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

The Kingmaker

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

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

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

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

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

Treachery

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

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

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

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

George Plantagenet, Brother of Edward

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

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

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

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edward hesitates, then begins thinking aloud.

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

Philippa Gregory, The White Queen
 

The Curious Blaybourne Allegation

	The following remarkable conversation takes place in 1464 shortly after Edward has finally revealed his secret marriage to his mother Cecily Neville.  This excerpt was written by Philippa Gregory in her best-selling novel The White Queen.  Jacquetta Woodville is known as the Lady of the Rivers due to her unusual gifts of second sight.  She is rumored to have remarkable powers of divination.  Cecily Neville is well aware that the Woodvilles are Lancasters.  Not only that, Jacquetta became a close confidante of none other than Margaret of Anjou, the virago Queen herself, long before all the fuss started.  As we know, the Duchess of York absolutely hit the roof upon discovery of the marriage. To her, Elizabeth is the enemy.  Desperate to calm his mother, Edward asked Jacquetta to meet with Cecily, the Duchess, and attempt to restore peace in the family.   Jacquetta is not welcome here.  No doubt it is Jacquetta's relationship with Margaret of Anjou, sworn enemy of the Neville family, that has raised Cecily Neville's darkest suspicions about Elizabeth Woodville.  Furthermore, Jacquetta was the only person in attendance at the secret wedding of Edward and Elizabeth besides the priest.  It is upon Jacquetta's word that Cecily Neville has to believe the wedding even took place.  In attendance during this tension-filled meeting are several of Cecily's daughters including Margaret of York as well several of Jacquetta's daughters including Anne Woodville.  Anne Woodville, Jacquetta's second daughter, narrates the story here. Cecily Neville, Duchess of York, is speaking to Jacquetta and the various daughters in the room.  "Nonetheless, Elizabeth was not my choice, nor the choice of Lord Warwick." Her Grace is upset, her voice trembling with anger. "It would mean nothing if Edward were not king. I might overlook it if he were a third or fourth son to throw himself away..." My mother (Jacquetta) replies,  "Perhaps you might. But it does not concern us. King Edward is the king. The king is the king. God knows, he had fought enough battles to prove his claim." Cecily Neville retorts, "I could prevent Edward from being king," Cecily rushes in, temper getting the better of her. "I could disown him, I could deny him, I could put George on the throne in his place. How would you like that as the outcome of your so-called private wedding, Lady Rivers?" The duchess' ladies blanch and sway back in horror.  Margaret (Margaret of York) who adores her brother Edward, whispers, "Mother!" but dares say no more. Edward has never been their mother's favorite.  George, Edward's younger brother, is his mother's darling, the pet of the family.  Richard, the youngest of all, is the dark-haired runt of the litter.  It is incredible that the Duchess speaks of putting one son before another, out of order. "How?" my mother says sharply, calling the Duchess' bluff. "How would you overthrow your own son?" The Duchess replies, "If he was not my husband's child..." "Mother!" Margaret wails. "And how could that be?" demands my mother, as sweet as poison. "Would you call your own son a bastard? Would you name yourself a whore? Just for spite, just to throw us down, would you destroy your own reputation and put cuckold's horns on your own dead husband? When they put Richard's head on the gates of York, they put a paper crown on him to make mock. That would be nothing compared to putting cuckold's horns on him now. Would you dishonor your husband? Would you dishonor your own name? Would you dare shame your husband worse than his enemies did?" There is a little scream from the women, and poor Margaret staggers as if to faint. My sisters and I are half-fish, not girls. We just goggle at our mother and the king's mother go head to head. It is like a pair of slugging battle-axe men in the jousting ring, each saying the unthinkable. "There are many who would believe me," the king's mother threatens. Mother stares at the Duchess with contempt. "More shame to you then," my mother says roundly.  "The rumors about Edward's fathering reached England.  Indeed.  I was among the few who swore that a lady of your house would never stoop so low.  But I heard, we all heard, gossip of an archer named – what was it –’ my mother pretends to forget and taps her forehead. ‘Ah, I have it: Blaybourne. An archer named Blaybourne, who was supposed to be your amour.  But I said, and even Queen Margaret d’Anjou, sworn enemy of your husband, said that a great lady like you would not so demean herself as to lie with a common archer and slip his bastard into a nobleman’s cradle." The name 'Blaybourne' drops into the room with a thud like a cannonball. You can almost hear it roll to a standstill.  My mother is afraid of nothing.  Mother is not through yet. ‘And anyway, if you can make the lords throw down King Edward, who is going to support your new King George?  Could you trust his brother Richard not to have his own try at the throne in his turn?  Would your kinsman Lord Warwick, your great friend, not want the throne on his own account? Philippa Gregory, The White Queen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•  Cecily Neville did not publicly recant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1469 Rebellion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An Uneasy Peace

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

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

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

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

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

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

Warwick was relentless.  He vowed to try again.

The Unholy Alliance

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

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

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

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

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

The Little Monster

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Third Time is the Charm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charles the Bold

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

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

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

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

Return of the Jedi

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

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

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

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

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

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

Coventry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Battle of Barnet

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

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

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

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

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

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

Offset Lines

Two key things happened in the night. 

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

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

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

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

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

These offset lines would create remarkable consequences during the battle. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Phase Four: Betrayal

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tewkesbury Cat and Mouse

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction.

So what should Margaret do?  Margaret dearly wished to return to France, but her commander said that if they could join up with the powerful army waiting for them in Wales, they had an excellent chance of unseating Edward IV themselves.  Margaret turned to her 17-year-old son Edward and asked him what he wanted to do. Prince Edward persuaded his mother to gamble for victory.  They had landed in Lancaster country.  Somerset and the Earl of Devon had already raised an army for Lancaster here in the countryside of west England.  Their best hope was to march northwards and join forces with the Lancastrians in Wales.  And with that, Margaret was persuaded.  In London, King Edward learned of Margaret's landing.  Realizing the She-devil was loose in the west, Edward moved swiftly to meet her.  However he was unsure of her destination.  As it turns out, Wales was equidistant for both parties 125 miles away.  The advantage was on Margaret's side because she knew where she was going and Edward didn't.  However, Edward's advantage was that at first Margaret did not know he was chasing her, so she took her sweet time getting there. The race to Wales was on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Battle of Tewkesbury
 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

United we Stand, Divided we Fall

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

The War of the Roses

ACT THREE:  Richard III

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

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

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

Anne Neville

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Philippa Gregory, The Kingmaker's Daughter

The Strange Saga of George

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

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

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

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

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

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

In 1477 George became a suitor for the hand of Mary, daughter of Charles the Bold.  Mary was quite the catch, being extremely beautiful and possessing vast estates.  She was better known by her nickname, 'Mary the Rich'.  George wanted to marry the rich.  Unfortunately for George, King Edward objected to the match.  Clarence, assuming his jealous brother Richard was behind this slight, left the court fuming.

George was not getting along with Edward well at all.  In addition to belligerently accusing Edward's wife of murdering Isabel, not long after her death of Isabel, men who were in the employ of George were caught plotting against the King.  The timing was very unfortunate.  It seemed like George was trying to get revenge of some sort.

There's an old saying, 'Once a cheater, always a cheater'.  George had crossed the line one time too many.  Edward had forgiven the man once before; he wasn't going to make that mistake again.  Edward had the duke thrown into prison, then unfolded the charges to the parliament... George had slandered the king; had received oaths of allegiance to himself; and was preparing for a new rebellion.  In short, George was bad.  

George was executed 'in private'.  In his play, Shakespeare gave Richard the blame, but history suggests Richard had nothing to do with it.  Following George's death, there was a strong rumor that George had been drowned in a cask of malmsey wine.

The headsman does it, leaving his axe to one side but wearing his black mask over his face. He is a big man with strong big hands and he takes his apprentice with him.

The two of them roll a barrel of malmsey wine into George’s room and George the fool makes a joke of it and laughs with his mouth open wide as if already gasping for air, as his face bleaches white with fear.

Philippa Gregory, The White Queen

Long Live the King... or maybe not

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

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

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

Richard's Treachery

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Queen Elizabeth and Lord Hastings

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Susan Higginbotham  (original source)
 

Two associated comments:

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

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

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

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

The Princes in the Tower

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Footnote to History

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Biographies

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

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

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

The Madness of King Charles

Charles VI was better known as Mad King Charles. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Keep scrolling.

A Very Naughty Girl

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

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

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

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

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

The best answer is Henry the Sixth. 

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

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

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

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

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

And who took his place?  Henry VI. 

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

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

Illegitimacy and the Throne

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

Let us review the damage caused by Henry VI. 

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

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

'Next' illegitimate king?  Uh oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This offers the perfect opportunity to tell a dirty joke.

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

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

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

Mrs. Smith, "Interesting how that works."

More than likely, Margaret of Anjou's enduring love affair with her favorite advisor produced Edward of Westminster, the boy who died at Tewkesbury.  So was this child an upgrade?  Tough question.  As the product of two ruthless, ambitious parents, it is debatable how their reportedly cruel son would have turned out as king.  As it was, England narrowly missed placing another illegitimate ruler on throne.  Oh, by the way, Joffrey on Game of Thrones, Edward's Doppelgänger, was also illegitimate. 

When looking for the break in the royal lineage, one place the scholars always point to is Catherine of Valois.  Catherine's son Edmund Tudor was born in 1431, nine years after the death of her husband Henry V.  Catherine was a widow at the time.

There are two kinds of illegitimate children.  There are children born out of wedlock and there are children born of adulterous affairs.  To me, the allegation that Edward IV was the product of his mother's liaison with a lowly archer as opposed to his brilliant father is far more serious than Catherine giving birth to a child while she was single and forbidden to marry.

'Forbidden to marry'??  Surely there is a story here and indeed there is. 

As historic figures go, I would imagine very few people today have the slightest clue who Catherine of Valois is.  Although she was immortalized by Shakespeare as Henry V's 'Fair Catherine', she has nevertheless remained an enigma with little written about her.  Long ago Catherine was dismissed by historians as nothing more than a perpetual footnote in the history of this period.  Through the centuries the story of Catherine of Valois has largely been forgotten.  I find this surprising because my research shows that Catherine unwittingly had a dramatic and lasting impact on English history.  Perhaps the key word here is 'unwitting'.  By reading between the lines of the narratives, I gather that Catherine was pushed around her entire life.  Given the fact that she gave birth to a simpleton (Henry VI) and showed no ambition for politics suggests that Catherine herself may not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer.  That said, her story dominated the 15th century tabloids.  Catherine's life was touched by a cruel childhood, mental illness, political mistreatment, a clandestine marriage, and secret illegitimate children.  Catherine was the youngest of eight children born to King Charles VI of France and Isabelle of Bavaria. We already know that Catherine's father was a basket case, but now we discover her mother was just as bad in a different way.  Her mother, Isabelle, was haughty, callous, and shamelessly adulterous to Catherine's poor ailing father.  Isabelle took advantage of the king’s frailties and seized control of the kingdom from usurpers.  Isabelle was so busy with politics, poor Catherine and her siblings were neglected.  As opposed to the pampered life of a princess one would expect, Catherine and her siblings would live like paupers in miserable surroundings.

As King Charles continued his descent to madness, Isabelle decided to hide the King from the public.  When Catherine was 3, her mother moved Charles from the palace and placed him in a royal Paris residence known as Hotel de Saint Pol along with his children.  Catherine was nowhere near the corridors of power as a child... and that's the way her mother wanted it.  Out of sight, out of mind.  

Isabelle's mission completed, the wildly unpopular Queen devoted her time to the pursuit of pleasure, pilfering the treasury, and showering her favorites with riches. In contrast, contemporary chroniclers noted the 'piteous state' of the young Princess Catherine and her siblings, 'nearly starved and loathsome with dirt, having no change of clothes, nor even of linen'. The Queen was so negligent that she made no provision for her husband and children. Content that they remain locked away far from sight, she neglected to ensure that the servants at Saint Pol were being paid for their labor.  Consequently, as time went on, many were forced to find work elsewhere, leaving the royal children and their ailing father wholly dependent on the few faithful servants who remained.

There is much more intrigue I could add about Catherine's childhood, but let's just say that Isabelle invested little energy in her child's welfare.  Isabelle was an ambitious woman with a cruel and ruthless determination to advance her own affairs.  It was Isabelle who decided to use her young daughter Catherine as a bargaining chip with Henry V, the powerful king of England.

As we know, the marriage ended in the tragic death of Henry V to dysentery.  Catherine had the briefest of reigns as the queen consort of England from 1420 until 1422.  She gave birth to crown heir Henry VI in December 1421.  With her husband over in France conducting yet another war, it is said that Henry V died without once seeing his son.  Catherine's grief was reported to be most violent.

Time passed.  Seemingly content to remain somewhat aloof, Catherine made no strong alliances one way or the other while in mourning.  Some say the Queen Dowager was in an incredibly powerful position.  Catherine was young, attractive and wealthy as well as the mother of the King of France and England.  Unfortunately, she didn't act very powerful.  Thanks in large part to her sad, pathetic childhood, Catherine had little ambition of her own and virtually no instincts for playing politics.  In a sense, she was a shy weakling just as her royal son would turn out to be.  Her English was poor and she had few friends in high places on the English council.  But she was still Fair Catherine... men came to visit.

The Council did not know what to do with Catherine.  Another marriage involving Catherine could spell disaster for internal English politics as well as complicate their current standing with France.  Worried that Catherine would raise her child to have French sympathies, in 1425 Catherine's regent Humphrey decided that young King Henry VI, 4, should be removed from his mother’s care and placed into a separate household.  Catherine's new role became more like that of a favored aunt.  She could see the child from time to time, but was removed on a daily basis.  Reports say that Catherine appeared to accept this and be content with her role.  If so, her passivity gives us a major clue.  What normal mother would accept this arrangement?  We certainly could never imagine Margaret of Anjou letting a similar thing happen to her beloved Joffrey, er, Edward.

With her husband dead, once her child was taken away, it seems like Catherine's remaining purpose in life had been badly damaged. 
Catherine of Valois was now a 25-year old widow with no children, living in the wrong country, and nothing to do.  Rich and beautiful, it is no surprise that Catherine fell in with the younger set at court.  At this time, Catherine was said to have difficulty “curbing her carnal passions”.  Don't we all?  Some handle it better than others, but Catherine apparently let her Scorpio nature get the better of her.

It was only a matter of time before a girl looking for a good time ran into a very bad boy. 

A Very Bad Boy

If nothing else, the War of the Roses is the story of ambition gone mad.  In particular, Catherine became infatuated with the highly ambitious Edmund Beaufort, an emerging political figure. 

Edmund Beaufort... where have we heard that name before?  This is the same Edmund Beaufort who was the major political rival of Richard, Duke of York, back in Act One of our narrative. 

Edmund Beaufort was not just the main advisor to Margaret of Anjou, he was also her boyfriend.  Edmund Beaufort was likely responsible for impregnating Margaret with her son Edward.

Sad to say, Edmund Beaufort's ambition would cost him dearly.  His decision to back Margaret of Anjou throughout the War of Roses would doom two generations of his Lancaster-based family to death.

Thanks in large part to Edmund Beaufort, the entire male side of his Beaufort family was obliterated.  Can you even imagine?  Six men died fighting!!

However, perhaps Edmund Beaufort got the last laugh.  Back in his younger days, it is very likely Edmund was the true father of Edmund Tudor, the man who would in turn sire Henry VII, the future king of England. 

So was it love or lust between Fair Catherine and Edmund Beaufort?  Or was it her untold wealth?  For that matter, the next boy to emerge from her womb would have a claim to be the future King of France. 

In very simple terms, Catherine was a good catch.  Maybe too good a catch... her Regents were very alarmed at this romance, especially when Edmund, 22, asked permission to marry Catherine, 27. 

Enter Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, to the stage.  Humphrey was not only the current Regent of England, but as the uncle of the child Henry VI, he was also the child's Lord Protector. 

When Humphrey heard the rumor in 1428 that Edmund Beaufort sought to marry Henry's mother, Humphrey put his foot down and said no. 

With Cardinal Henry Beaufort as his main political rival, the last thing Humphrey wanted to do was to muddy the waters by giving more power to yet another Über-ambitious Beaufort.  

Humphrey feared that if this highly desirable young widow decided to marry, her Beaufort husband might gain undue influence over his young stepson (Henry VI) and upset the balance of power. Catherine's French nationality was never far from the minds of the Council.  If she should decide to ally herself with a member of the French nobility, the situation would be even more fraught with difficulties.

Such was the fear of remarriage that Parliament was persuaded to pass a 1428 law prohibiting any person from marrying the dowager queen without the consent of the King and Council.  They played a dirty trick on Catherine... there was no king at the time to give permission!!  The country was being ruled by Humphrey who was 'not a king'.  If Catherine wanted to marry Edmund, she would have to wait nine years until her son Henry, 6, came of age in 1437.  So much for Catherine's hopes to remarry. 

No doubt Edmund gave up all hope of marrying Catherine.  A deeply ambitious man, Edmund wasn't about to jeopardize his career by risking marriage to a Forbidden Woman.  On the other hand, there was no law that prevented Edmund from continuing to see Catherine under the radar and under the blankets.  England is a very chilly place and what better place to seek warmth than the arms of a beautiful woman?

No doubt the Council thought itself clever to disempower the Dowager Queen, but there is a real chance their decision backfired in a very remarkable way.  One can easily imagine the intense bitterness Catherine felt at having her love life so blatantly interfered with.  No one likes being unfairly pushed around.  Therefore it comes as no surprise that Catherine may have rebelled in a very unusual way. 

In 2013 historian John Ashdown-Hill published a book called Royal Marriage Secrets.  In his book Ashdown-Hill said he had uncovered evidence that Edmund Tudor, father of Henry VII, was not the son of Owen Tudor but rather that of Edmund Beaufort.

Needless to say, this ignited considerable controversy.  Many erudite people wrote long rebuttals to deny Ashdown-Hill's claims.  Other people said this proved what they had believed for a long time.  Still others read the book and decided they had a better claim to be King or Queen of England than the current royal family.  Lord knows, we might just have another War of the Roses right here in the 21st Century.  

In the meantime, I have one word of wisdom.  Since the English take these matters very seriously, if you ever visit England, don't make any jokes about the legitimacy of various kings.  After all, due to King Edward III siring dozens upon dozens of children, 99% of all English citizens have at least a few drops of royal blood in them. 

For that matter, maybe I am related to that Archer who got Cicely Neville pregnant with future king Edward the Fourth.  I think I will start a rebellion when I visit England.  What a shame it is that Shakespeare isn't still around to write 'Richard the Fourth'.

Owen Tudor is the man who fathered Edmund Tudor.  Edmund Tudor in turn would go on to father Henry Tudor, better known as Henry VII, the first Tudor king of England.  In other words, Owen Tudor sired a dynasty. 

It is said that Queen Catherine of Valois found Owen to be so irresistible that she gave her heart, soul... and yes, body... to this handsome young man.  

No big deal until we realize that Owen was not an estate owner with a pedigree and vast lands under his control.  No, not hardly.  Owen Tudor was not exactly high-born.  In fact, he was the lowly son of a Welsh rebel who became a servant in Catherine's wardrobe department

This is one of the most curious stories of parentage imaginable.  By favoring this particular servant with her charms, some of England's most famous kings.... Henry the Seventh, Henry the Eighth and Elizabeth the First could point to a lowly chamber boy as their forefather.  Impressive, yes? 

Or maybe not.  Considering my own roots include a Welsh undertaker gracing the family tree, finally I have a story I can relate to!  Oh, the shame of it all.

Since Owen Tudor is the newest member of our narrative, let us introduce him properly.  Born in 1400, Owen was a nobody who worked in the household of the Dowager Queen and somehow ended up in the Queen's bed.  It is said that their lovemaking produced a boy named Edmund Tudor, the eventual father of Henry VII, the king who would begin the Tudor dynasty of England. 

This is a very curious story.  We hear rumors of powerful men who inveigle or coerce susceptible chambermaids into their bed and then discard them quickly.  What we don't hear very often are stories of a beautiful Queen, a woman coveted by extraordinary men in high places, who chooses instead to seduce the keeper of her wardrobe and linen.  But no, the story doesn't stop there.  The chamber boy impregnates.  Oh, darn, well, these things happen.  Just ask Cecily Neville, victim of that handsome Archer boy. 

Big deal.  So, all Catherine has to do is find some noble and ask him to be noble and cover it up.  Or have the child on the sly and hand it to some peasant to raise.  But no, the Queen keeps the child!!  And why?  Because she has fallen in love with Chamber Boy!  She leaves the palace with chamber boy and they live happily ever after, having four children along the way. 

What a remarkable story!

In 1421 Owen is said to have gone to war in France.  However, he was not a warrior.  Instead Owen assisted Sir Walter Hungerford, a steward in the service of Henry V (Agincourt).  Following Henry's death, Owen somehow ended up as a keeper of the Queen's household or wardrobe back in England.

Virtually nothing is known about how the liaison between Catherine and Owen took place.  Consequently there are all sorts of 'Legends' about their meeting, which is another way of saying that someone decided to make up stories. 

For example, one writer said that Owen came to the queen's attention when she spied him bathing naked.  Another chronicler dwelt upon Owen's good looks which the Queen Mother noticed, causing her to give the handsome squire a post in her household.  And then there was the legend that Owen either deliberately or accidentally fell onto the queen's lap during a drunken dance.

My favorite was the lap story.  While on guard at Windsor Castle during some festivities, Owen was required to dance before the court.  Queen Catherine sat on a low seat surrounded by her ladies. While making an elaborate pirouette, the unfortunate man lost his balance and fell headfirst into the Queen's lap.  The Queen's manner of excusing this was so awkward that her ladies in waiting grew suspicious that the Queen had a thing for this handsome Welshman.

Whatever the true story, there can be no doubt that Catherine and Owen were taking a huge risk.  Catherine lived in the king's household, presumably so she could care for her young son when called upon, but mostly so the councilors could watch over the Queen herself.  Knowing full well there were spies everywhere, Owen and Catherine's mad love affair was sheer madness. 

Seriously, this story is so far-fetched it absolutely stretches the imagination.  We are supposed to believe the man who won Catherine body and soul, the man for whom she risked everything, was her handsome Clerk of the Wardrobe! A trumpet for the strumpet, please!  If this were fiction, I'd toss the book in the trash as rubbish.  But that is apparently more or less what happened. 

Despite all the risks, the Queen and the servant began their affair right under the noses of people who were paid to watch her.  The queen was under suspicion.  She was a foreigner with few friends.  Many suspected Catherine of secretly supporting her brother Louis VII's claim to the French crown over her that of own son little Henry VI.

Personally, I think there has to be a more likely explanation for this unlikely pairing.  One explanation would be rebellion.  The assholes, oops, I meant the dignitaries who ruled England in the name of Catherine's son expected the queen to be content to sleep with her fond memories of the great Henry the Fifth.  One can assume Catherine felt considerable resentment.  

One might even conclude her affair with Owen was her way of thumbing her nose at these men.  Perhaps this good-looking servant was the only option available to a desperately lonely woman trapped in a cold, unfriendly castle.

Thus began the mad love affair between the widow of the revered King Henry and her studly Clerk of the Wardrobe.  I say 'mad' because the two risked a charge of treason.  Based on that crazy statute, one or both of them could easily end up in jail... or worse.  We've heard of men who lose their head over a woman, but in this case, it could really happen!    

Then one day Catherine realized she was pregnant.  Uh oh. 

All the history books point to Owen Tudor as the father.  Maybe the thing to do here is to read between the Lies.  First Owen risks his neck to impregnate the Forbidden Queen and then Catherine turns around and names her son 'Edmund'. 

Huh?  Are we missing something here???

Credibility

The 11 December 2016 episode of the TV show The Royals revolved around the legendary story of Owen and Catherine.  As one can see, their tale was an "epic, earth-shattering love affair!"

Forgive me, Father, for I am about to be catty.

As I read further, I realized the writer of the 'earth-shattering love affair' blog had basically accepted the Owen-Catherine Fairy Tale hook, line, and sinker.  I doubt very seriously the writer dug very deeply into the story.  This is not necessarily a good thing.  After all, it is my understanding that the motto of most TV shows is 'Why let the truth get in the way of a good story?'

It is scary to realize most of our history lessons these days come from movies and television.  Currently our world is awash in a phenomenon known as 'Fake News'.  There has probably never been a time when ignorance and superficial thinking has been more prevalent.  We base our decisions on the words of people we don't know personally.  This may not be a very good idea.  Rumor has it our leaders deliberately tell fibs from time to time. 

I suppose I am just as guilty as the rest of superficial thought.  I have based this entire story about the War of the Roses on the ten listings that appear on the First page of Google.  I pick a few a random and take a peek.  If it sounds intelligent, I borrow a few ideas.  But that doesn't mean they are correct.  Most of the time, I don't even know the name of the author. 

Research these days is little more than cut and paste.  It is shocking in a way how many websites simply repeat what another website says VERBATIM.  For example, Wikipedia, the source for many of my explanations, makes it effortless to cut and paste passages into my stories.  I love Wikipedia, but I don't always trust it. 

Every now and then, I stop and think about it... I am repeating the words of Wikipedia contributors who I know nothing about.  Here's another old saying... you get what you pay for.  Wikipedia is free.  The entire site was created by volunteers.  Who vets the Wikipedia writers? 

I am about to challenge the 'Owen-Catherine Fairy Tale'.  I believe this particular legend may not be what it seems.  In a sense, I will attempt to rewrite history.  If you find yourself agreeing with my line of thinking, before you make up your mind, please remember to ask yourself this question: 

Do you really want to form your opinion based on the words of a retired dance teacher who gets his information from the Internet?

It all boils down to Credibility.  Question everything, my friend. 

Scandal in the Castle: Who's Your Daddy???

I contend that the weird circumstances surrounding Catherine's pregnancy suggests an alternative explanation for Catherine's risky behavior... Edmund Beaufort. 

No one is quite sure when Catherine's affair with Owen Tudor began. 

•  One website suggested 'somewhere between 1427 and 1429'.
•  Another website reported 'About 1428 or 1429'. 
•  Another website reported, 'Despite all of this, Catherine did remarry in secret, sometime in 1431 or 1432'. 
•  A third website said, 'It is accepted that Catherine and Owen were married sometime around 1429/30'. 

I am not making this up.  In fact, I'm not making any of this up.  I just drift from website to website compiling the information, then I try to sort it out.  Do you know what the words 'Somewhere', 'About', 'Sometime', and 'Around' mean to me? 

These words mean someone is guessing.  It means no one knows the truth about these dates because both the affair between Catherine and Edmund and the affair between Catherine and Owen were conducted in secret.  I would place a bet that there are no existing written accounts of what took place in the castle.

The passage above is another good example of the general fuzziness surrounding Owen and Catherine's supposed Love Story.  I am starting to believe we have a genuine mystery on our hands. 

•  'many tales, unsupported...'  In other words, no one knows the true story of how Owen and Catherine hooked up.

•  'We don't know for sure what position Owen held.'  This suggests that no one ever wrote any history of this liaison.

•  'Despite all the romantic embellishments by later writers.'  Someone makes stuff up like the 'Lap Story' and the next person buys it.

•  'It seems that Owen and Catherine were attracted to one another.'   Gee, can we possibly be less certain about this?

I believe the words above are the words of an ethical writer.  This person has taken a good look at the existing data and realized this very well could be a fable of some sort.  Embarrassed at being forced to regurgitate literary diatribe based on quicksand, the writer has hedged his or her bet by qualifying every single phrase for the simple reason that no one has a clue what really happened. 

So I suggest we read between the lines... maybe there is a cover-up going on here.  Maybe this entire love story is nothing more than putting lipstick on a pig. 

We started this chapter by asking a question:  How did a lowly Welshman bed a Queen? 

Six centuries have passed since the Owen-Catherine Love Story took place.  Someone compared it to a 'Remarkable Fairy Tale'.  Every single writer focuses on how incredible it was that a highly desirable Queen could allow herself to be seduced by a lowly servant, a young man who actually risked death to take this woman to bed. 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, indeed, it all sounds very romantic, but at heart the idea is preposterous when you stop and think about.  It is hard to believe the 'epic, earth-shattering love affair' between Owen and Catherine actually took place because it challenges our reality-testing equipment to the extreme.  This story is absolutely begging for a better explanation!! 

I don't deny something unusual took place between Owen and Catherine.  After all, while she was still pregnant, Catherine left the comfort of the castle with Owen and had four or five children by him over the next few years while living out in the country.  The Queen definitely built the final part of her life around this man.  That part is not in question.

Gerald Harriss (1925-2014) was one of the most distinguished English medievalists of his generation.  Harriss was an eloquent interpreter of the workings of English late-medieval political society, illuminating not only its institutional aspects but also the characters of its leading actors, notably Cardinal Beaufort (Edmund Beaufort's uncle). As it turns out, I am not the only one with a suspicious mind.  In his book Cardinal Beaufort. A Study in Lancastrian Ascendency and Decline, Harriss made a strong case (pp.144,177-8) for Edmund having fathered one of Catherine's later children. Harriss had this to say about Edmund, Owen, and Catherine:  Catherine may have secretly married Owen Tudor to avoid the penalties of breaking the statute of 1427–28.  By its very nature the evidence for Edmund 'Tudor's' parentage is less than conclusive, but such facts as can be assembled permit the agreeable possibility that Edmund 'Tudor' and Margaret Beaufort were first cousins and that the royal house of 'Tudor' sprang in fact from Beauforts on both sides. (Harriss, 178 n.34)

Take note that the findings of Gerald Harriss concur with that of John Ashdown-Hill.  This means the only two recent historians to analyze this story have come to the same likely conclusion.  To date, no one else with similar qualifications has stepped forward to challenge them. 

One can imagine after that nasty law was passed, Catherine had the right to retain her boyfriend Edmund.  She just couldn't marry him.  Quite likely this roughshod treatment aroused a sense of defiance in the two young lovers.  Perhaps they rebelled and continued to conduct their relationship in a private manner.  If so, who can guess how long they continued to see one another?  One year? Two years? 

Various website's suggest Catherine's romance with Edmund Beaufort had started in 1928.  She became pregnant with her son Edmund Tudor in October 1930.   So what was the punishment for getting her knocked up??  No doubt the ensuing scandal would bring holy hell down upon the head of the sperm donor.  And there very well could be danger too. 

Do you know what kings don't like?  They don't like babies being born with potential claims to the throne.  Just watch the rate babies get executed on Game of Thrones in an attempt to eliminate heirs.  Babies being born the former Queen of England were exactly the kind of babies that made people nervous.  So if you don't believe the father of Edmund Tudor wasn't in danger, guess again. 

Now let's pretend to enter the mind of some vindictive asshole on the English Council.  

Oh my God, a baby is about to be born to the former Queen of England!  If it is a boy, thanks to Catherine's lineage, the child will have a legitimate claim to the crown of France.  The Frenchies will absolutely flip out!  Furthermore, this kid could cause a lot of trouble when he gets older.  Edmund Beaufort is a leading member of the House of Lancaster and the House of Beaufort, two prominent families with money and powerful political friends.  Whoever is king at the time will have his hands full.  Something needs to done. 

On the other hand, what if the child belonged to Owen Tudor?

Oh my God, a baby is about to be born to the former Queen of England!  If it is a boy, the child will have a legitimate claim to the crown of France. The Frenchies will absolutely flip out!  What was this idiot woman thinking?  However, we caught a break.  This Owen Tudor fellow is a lowly Welshman.  By law, the Welsh do not have the right to ascend to the throne.  No child born to this man has any birthright, so we dodged a real bullet here.  Whew!  That was a close call. 

Rick Archer's Note:  Before we continue, let me review the mythology, er, rather the written history. It has been reported that Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, sought to marry the Dowager Queen and it may very well have been that Katherine returned these feelings.  In response, Parliament set out a statue which stated that no man was allowed to marry a former queen of England without a special licence and permission from the King. If a man dared to marry a former queen then not only would he forfeit his lands and tenements, he would also forfeit his life. Edmund Beaufort, the Duke of Somerset, paid heed to this statue and reined back his intentions. However, Owen Tudor was a completely different story.  Reported to be a squire in the service of the dowager queen, Owen Tudor soon caught the queen's attention. There are various stories as to how this happened, one being that while dancing Owen fell into the queen's lap, another being that she spied him while he was swimming naked.  Whatever the true story is, the pair married in secret, going against the statute of parliament.  Soon Owen Tudor impregnated Queen Catherine with a boy to be named Edmund Tudor.
But what happens if Edmund Beaufort was the true father?  That would give Catherine a legitimate reason to deliberately wrap her baby boy up in sheep's clothing.  By disguising the true identity of the father, she could avoid having Beaufort incur the wrath of the English Council. So is John Ashdown-Hill correct about Edmund Beaufort fathering Catherine's child?  Or was he just making a fortune by spreading some ancient gossip around?   Your guess is as good as mine, but I will say Dr. Ashdown-Hill does appear to have more a bit more knowledge on the subject than your average person (and maybe even more than me!)  Consequently, for the sake of argument, let's go out on a limb and assume Dr. Ashdown-Hill is correct. I don't know about you, but I just can't seem to get past the odd coincidence of the matching names.  Considering I am taking someone else's word for every single thing that I write in this article, I am hardly in any position to suggest I know what the truth is here.  Nevertheless, I will be bold and risk muddying the waters a bit further. I have a question... Why on earth would Catherine name her son 'Edmund' if her lover Edmund Beaufort was not the father?  Why would she give nosey people the slightest reason to draw undue attention to whom the father might be, especially at a time when the father could be imprisoned or executed for breaking the ridiculous law? Before I start answering this curious question myself, the history books say that Catherine and Owen left the castle while Catherine was still pregnant.  Catherine had her son at some estate out in the country far beyond prying eyes.  It was there that she named her baby boy 'Edmund'.  1. Out in country, Catherine might have felt safer about taking a chance with the name. 2. Presumably her champion Owen was at her side when she named the child. So I ask again:  Why on earth would Catherine name her son 'Edmund' if her lover Owen Tudor was the father?	BA in History and French from University of East Anglia MA in Linguistics from University of Essex PhD in medieval history from University of Essex

My theory is that Catherine used Owen Tudor to protect Edmund Beaufort.

Edmund Beaufort had a considerable amount to lose.  If Catherine was pregnant and it was discovered that Edmund Beaufort was the father, the ensuing scandal would have cost Beaufort his political career at the minimum, conceivably even his life or his estates.  It definitely would have guaranteed him a visit to the Tower of London for violating that statute in some way or another.  So, if Edmund Beaufort was indeed the father, surely he pleaded with Catherine to protect his identity. 

If so, did this mean that Catherine needed to find another suitor ASAP to give her pregnancy a cover story?  Given that Catherine didn't have a wide selection of potential lovers given the tight security surrounding her, perhaps Owen Tudor was her only choice.  Or quite possibly, she did have other men around, but they all had money.  Owen, on the other hand, was poverty-stricken.  Maybe that worked in his favor. 

As it turned out, by the time Catherine gave birth to Edmund Tudor on 11 June 1431 (a date some contest), she was heavily involved with her new boyfriend Owen Tudor.  Catherine likely became pregnant in October 1930.  Was there a chance Catherine was still seeing Edmund Beaufort at that time?  Maybe.  So let's pretend we can read the mind of Catherine.  Call it Scenario One.
 

I, Catherine, am 30 years old.  Recently I broke up with my long-time boyfriend Edmund.  Been feeling kinda lonely lately and I met this new guy Owen.  He works here at the palace keeping my wardrobe in order.   Owen is this really good-looking Welsh guy, you know, a medieval hunk if I ever saw one. Lately I have been distracting him from his job.  One day Owen caught me in one of those moods.  There was a spark and I lost it.  Something happened.  Now I want it to happen again and again. 

But I have a big problem.  I'm pregnant!!!  There is no way it could be Owen's child.  It has to be Edmund's child.  I am sure of it.  In fact, I know when it happened.  Back in October, Edmund and I had been drifting apart, but one night he came over for my birthday party.  Too much wine, not that awful English stuff, but good French wine.  You know how it goes, he looked at me, I looked at him and we had one more fling for old times sake. 

Now look at me. I am going to have to tell Owen about this.  If the child is a boy, I wonder if Owen would mind very much if I go ahead and name my baby after Edmund.  Are Welsh guys touchy about this sort of thing?

But you know, if I really and truly want to name my son after my ex-boyfriend, surely Owen won't doubt my love for him...

Catherine claimed the baby belonged to Owen Tudor.  Let's do another scenario and assume she is telling the truth.  Call it Scenario Two. 

This thing with Owen is so special.  I am wild about the guy.  Unfortunately he is taking a real chance by sneaking into my room at night.  People watch me all the time and I know they are suspicious.  My ladies in waiting are already onto me, I am sure of it.  This is very dangerous.  Owen is breaking the law by sleeping with me.  If the wrong people discover our relationship, Owen could be put in prison. I am surrounded with people like that.  Sometimes I really hate my life. 

Now I have another problem.  I'm pregnant.  It is Owen's child, no doubt about it, but I want to name my baby 'Edmund'.  As the former Queen, that's my right, isn't it?  I'm sure it's a boy and I so much want to name him in the memory of my old boyfriend.  I wonder if Owen would mind?   Are guys sensitive about these things like this? 

Owen said something about wanting to name the child after him.  You know, I get it.  I really do see his point.  Every dude in France and England names his first son after himself.   So when Owen brings up 'Owen Junior' or 'Owen the Second', I guess I can see where he is coming from.  But you know what?  I get so tired of all these Louies and Edwards and Henrys I could just scream sometimes!  How does a girl tell them all apart?  Stamp a Roman numeral on their forehead, that's what I say. 

The way I look at it, if I really and truly want to name my son after my ex-boyfriend, surely Owen won't doubt my love for him.  I will make a deal with him.  The next boy will get his name  (Note: their third son was named Owen).

For the record, I was named 'Richard' because my uncle Richard was my mother's favorite brother.  Most women name their sons after someone they like, someone special.  In Catherine's case, there was only one Edmund in her life.  Because Catherine was French, there were no 'Edmunds' in Catherine's family.  So I ask again... why would she name her son 'Edmund'?

Since I am a guy, I feel at least somewhat qualified to offer the male perspective here.  If I found out my wife or my hot and heavy lover was going to name her child of suspect parentage after her old boyfriend, I would absolutely raise the castle roof.  This is why I suspect there could be a third scenario... one that no website that I have come across has suggested. 

We started this chapter by asking a question:  How did a lowly Welshman bed a Queen and start a dynasty? 

The official Henry VII propaganda story is that Henry's grandfather was the product of a magic love affair between a servant and a Queen.  Oh, how wonderfully romantic!!   But what if that is complete hogwash?

What if Catherine decided that taking Owen as her lover was her only way to protect Edmund Beaufort? 

Think about it.  If Catherine still cared for Edmund Beaufort, she would have to disguise the nature of her pregnancy.  Edmund Beaufort had a lot to lose, but what did a nobody like Owen Tudor have to lose besides his head? 

The only question at this point is how would Catherine approach the situation.  Would she sit down and strike up a bargain with Owen in a business-like way?  Would she have the guts to openly discuss the problem and ask Owen what he thought about giving Edmund Beaufort a cover story? 

You know, I have to say I doubt it.  I find it very difficult to imagine a Queen would humble herself by politely asking a servant to get involved in a very dangerous affair.  I think any legitimate femme fatale would do it the easy way.  There is a great movie called Body Heat.  That movie makes it very clear what a good-looking woman can get a guy to do after she has had sex with him a few times.

All Catherine had to do was undress and knock the poor boy's lights out.   After all, no self-respecting Welshman could possibly resist hitting on a naked Queen who looks like Catherine.  That's where I would place my bet.  So let us try to read the mind of Owen Tudor.  Call it Scenario Three.

Good grief, the Queen must be out of her mind!  I was trying to hang up some of her dresses in the royal closet last night.  The Queen snuck up from behind.  First she put her arms around me, then she turned me around and kissed me.  I was pretty fearful, but she dragged me into her bed.  I tried to resist, but you know how it is.  Once the Cat Lady dropped her cloak and told me she wanted me, I was helpless to the heat.  That is one beautiful woman.  Not only that, the Queen is insatiable.  Every time we finished, she stroked me until I was ready to start anew.  Over and over and over again. 

On the spirits of my dead ancestors, I cannot imagine what I did to deserve this.  That woman wore me out.  I can barely move today!  Catherine said she had something she wanted to talk to me about.  I wonder what it could be...

That led to Scenario Four.  I imagine that once Owen became Catherine's lover, at some point Catherine came to him with a distraught look on her face.

"Owen, oh no, I am in so much trouble.  I have just discovered I am pregnant!  I am so sorry, but that it can't possibly be your child.  I wish it was your child, I love you so much, but it has be Edmund's child.  Owen, I need your help..." 

So was 'Love' involved or not?  Not at first.  I think this Love Story started out as deception on Catherine's part.  While Owen thought he was part of a magic romance, Catherine was setting up her alibi.  I think once Catherine had Owen wrapped around her finger, maybe she offered some candor about her problem, maybe not.  Drawing upon Owen's likely infatuation, I think Catherine persuaded him to move out of the castle with her, move to the country and claim her child as his.  This would give Edmund Beaufort the protection he needed.  Once Owen agreed to the scheme, maybe he quietly resigned his job and disappeared. A couple weeks later, Catherine told the officials she had decided to live away from court.  They reunited at her palace in Hertfordshire 30 miles north of London.  Probably no one even noticed the two events were connected. 

Catherine had her baby out in the countryside away from prying eyes.  She said the child belonged to Owen Tudor and no one bothered to dig deeper since Catherine stayed out of politics from that point on.  The reports say that Catherine stayed off the radar for several years.   She came to visit her son Henry VI from time to time, but always kept it low-key. 

What about Owen?  Look at it from Owen's point of view.  If he saw things in a practical way, he had much to gain here... a relationship with a beautiful woman, the status of marrying the former Queen, the very real possibility their son could be a royal someday (French royal blood), and the considerable estate that Catherine possessed.  In other words, Owen was in the right place at the right time to luck into something very good.  His station in life was dramatically elevated.  All Owen had to do was swallow his pride a little.

The evidence suggests that Owen and Catherine did develop something special once removed from public scrutiny.  The two of the lived in the country away from the limelight, always doing their best to keep a low profile.  During this time, they had five children.  Edmund, Jasper and Owen, the three sons born to the couple, were all born away from court.  Out of sight, out of mind.

If my fanciful 'alternative story' is correct, we have a very plausible answer to the question of how a lowly Welshman bedded a Queen and started a dynasty.  It was Catherine's idea all along! 

Personally, I believe that Edmund Beaufort is the likely father of Edmund Tudor.  I say this simply because no woman in her right mind would insult her new lover without a damn good reason.  Since he failed to object, I contend Owen had to know exactly what was going on!!  

My opinion contradicts the history books.  Catherine publicly stated that Edmund was the son of Owen Tudor, so maybe Owen Tudor was the father just like Catherine said he was.

But I doubt it.  So does historian John Ashdown-Hill, a man with a formidable reputation. 

In addition to his doctorate in history, John Ashdown-Hill is a member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, a Fellow of The Society of Antiquaries, a Fellow of the Royal Historical Society, and a member of the Society of Genealogists, the Richard III Society, and the Centre Europeen d'Etudes Bourguignonnes.  I would guess that this gentleman is eminently qualified to comment on this story.

As for my own credentials, they are non-existent in the field of history.  I fully admit I have no credibility which explains why I have chosen to ride the coattails of this esteemed scholar. 

The bottom line is that neither Dr. Ashdown-Hill nor I believe the Owen Tudor-Fair Catherine Fairy Tale took place as reported.

Whatever the truth, ultimately it doesn't make much difference who the father was.  Edmund Beaufort or Owen Tudor, either way Edmund Tudor was illegitimate.  Harsh words, but let's get one thing straight... there has never been any direct evidence for the lawful marriage of Owen and Catherine.  No witness stepped forward nor did any written record of their marriage exist.  Centuries have passed, but no one has yet to find a time or a place of Owen's marriage to Catherine.  They were 'married' simply because Henry VI said so when he legitimized the Catherine/Owen children in 1452.

Ordinarily I wouldn't make such a fuss about something as absurd as Edmund Tudor's parentage except for the fact that we are talking about the start of a royal dynasty here.  Unsurprisingly, Henry the Seventh was said to be extremely touchy about this particular subject.  There is a saying that history is written by the winners.  I suspect that once Henry VII finished rewriting the 15th century history books, the English people were expected to believe that his origins lie in a curious romance that defied all common sense.

Faced with accounts that are sprinkled with the words 'legend' and 'about', we will never know the truth.  Catherine was an isolated, lovelorn widow who died without ambition or accomplishment.  She left us no diaries, no recorded personal thoughts, and no interesting speeches.  Her only deeds of note were to give birth to a crazy king, Henry VI, and an illegitimate son named Edmund. 

And that’s all history would have known of her if not for the fact that Henry VII's propaganda machine worked so hard to make us believe an astonishing tale that a Queen would somehow stoop so low as to share her bed with a servant based on 'love'.  Yeah, nice try, Henry.

Final Thoughts on Owen and Catherine's Story

After I finished writing my story about Owen and Catherine, I found myself curious to know if there was a different Edmund in Catherine's life that might explain her choice of the name.   I decided to poke around a few websites and look for another reason to explain the Edmund/Edmund name coincidence.  After a considerable amount of time, I did find something interesting:

The name Edmund is believed to have been chosen for Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, whom recent unproven theories suggest was actually his father.  But a more likely explanation is that Beaufort stood as the child's godfather at his christening.  It was a common practice at the time to name a child after a godparent.  (source)

I was not at all satisfied with this explanation.  The explanation seemed unbearably convenient.  Edmund Beaufort would have been between 22 and 24 at the time of Edmund Tudor's birth.  Isn't that a bit 'young' to be named as a godfather?  Would not the former queen of England be able to find someone a bit older and more respectable to be the child's godfather than her former boyfriend?  And how would Owen feel about her former boyfriend being named as godfather?  (Yes, we are back to that again).

Nevertheless, I decided the explore the 'godfather' explanation a bit further.  So I went to Google and typed in: edmund tudor godfather

Lo and behold, I discovered a scholarly attempt to settle the same question:  Why would Catherine name her son 'Edmund'?

The following is an excerpt.  You can read the entire thread yourself here.

From: "Tony Hoskins" 
Subject: Edmund Tudor a (Beaufort-) Plantagenet?
Date: Sat, 11 Aug 2007 10:54:28 -0700

I raise this matter again.

"Around 1424, rumours about her [Catherine of France, Queen of England] connection with Owen Tudor were heard."

The naming of their first child, Edmund Tudor, has also led to serious speculation on whether Henry VII, Edmund Tudor's son, descended from Beauforts on both sides of his pedigree."

Edmund Tudor's birth date seems vague.

Since arguably Edmund Tudor might just have easily have been born from say about 1427-1432, his father might well have been Edmund Beaufort, known to have been a suitor for Queen Catherine at least in 1427/8.

Jones also says:

"[Queen Catherine] may have taken Tudor as her husband to prevent her true love, Edmund Beaufort, suffering the penalties of the statute of 1428, since Owen had so few possessions to forfeit."

That the widowed Queen Catherine's eldest son should be named Edmund - a name appearing in neither the families of Owen Tudor nor the Valois - taken in conjunction with the chronology, the vague dates, and the known attraction c.1427/8 (at least) between Queen Catherine and Edmund Beaufort is striking.

Does anyone have any thoughts or comments on this?

            Tony Hoskins


Anthony Hoskins
History, Genealogy and Archives Librarian
History and Genealogy Library
Santa Rosa, California 95404

 

Here are excerpts of what Tony Hoskins' colleague Brad Verity wrote in reply:

•  And who else in the royal family should stand as godfather to a son borne by the queen as a result of a marriage to a man of lesser social standing that was not known to the public, or even to the royal council?  Conceivably a number of others could be godfather. But why Edmund Beaufort?

•  The alternative explanation is that Queen Catherine named her bastard son Edmund because that was his father's name, which seems the best way of any of trumpeting the child's true paternity - a stupid decision if the point was to hide the fact.

•  The Queen secretly marries a low-level chump instead in order to prevent the real man she loves from losing his lands? 

•  There is supposed to be evidence of the "hot and heavy" relationship with Owen.  I know of none, save the abundant mythology surrounding Catherine and Owen. There *is* on the other hand documentation of the Queen's passion for Edmund Beaufort.

•  The fact is that Catherine kept it well hidden.  Perhaps the "secret marriage" to Owen Tudor was kept purposely murky as to specifics because it covered up the fact that her son Edmund was born illegitimately to the Queen and Edmund Beaufort, and that the clandestine nature of her subsequent marriage to Owen - after the fact of Edmund "Tudor's" birth - allowed for cover.

•  The case for Edmund Tudor being Edmund Beaufort's son is plausible on many levels.

From: "D. Spencer Hines"
Subject: Re: Edmund Tudor a (Beaufort-) Plantagenet?
Date: Sun, 12 Aug 2007 09:40:01 +1000
 

Desperate, Rampant Speculation.

Amusing...

Rick Archer's Note: 

I have mentioned this thread to show that I am not the only one who finds the matching Edmund names to be disturbing.  The thread makes it clear that the Edmund Tudor-Edmund Beaufort parentage question is considered a very real possibility in scholarly circles.  And yet at the same time, D. Spencer Hines readily dismissed the entire thought.  Hines later added that 'Tony [Hoskins] is living in Fantasy Land'.

Whatever the truth here, something remarkable did appear to take place between Catherine and Owen after they left the castle. 

As a poignant footnote to this story, Owen and Catherine had six happy years together (1430-1436).  Unfortunately, their quiet life came to an end in 1436.  Catherine was pregnant with her fifth child by Owen Tudor when rumors of the Queen's secret marriage reached the ear of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, the ever-present villain in this story. 

Humphrey immediately had Owen imprisoned on a charge of treason.  Deeply distressed and traumatized at the forced separation from her husband and children, Catherine went to Bermondsey Abbey to have her child.  Shortly after giving birth to their daughter Margaret, Catherine fell gravely ill and died quickly.  She was 35.  There are reports that she died in disgrace.  No mention of her marriage to Owen Tudor was made on her gravestone. 

Upon Owen's arrest, the queen believed there was no chance of reuniting.  Without hope, some say Catherine died because she wanted to. 

As it turned out, the Queen was wrong.  Several years later, Owen Tudor was released.  Sad to say, he became an early casualty in the Wars of the Roses.  Owen joined his son Jasper's army in Wales in January 1461, a force which was defeated at the Battle of Mortimer's Cross by Edward of York (Edward IV).  Owen Tudor was captured and beheaded following the battle.

Moments before his execution, Owen murmured, "my head shalle ly on the stocke that was wonte to ly on Quene Katheryns lappe."

I have suggested that Catherine may have exploited Owen in the beginning to provide cover for Edmund Beaufort.  Whether this is true or not is anyone's guess.  What I am touched by is the evidence that these two people went to their death loving each other intensely. 

The expression 'epic, earth-shattering love affair' may not have missed the mark after all.

Margaret Beaufort, the Red Queen

Margaret Beaufort was the Red Queen of Lancaster to Elizabeth Woodville's White Queen of York during the War of the Roses.  During Act One and Act Two, the two women were on opposite sides, but would become allies late in the game to help bring down Richard III, the villain of Act Three.

Margaret would marry Edmund Tudor, the much-discussed illegitimate son of Owen and Catherine.  Together they produced Henry Tudor, the man who would one day become King Henry VII, the first ruler in the Tudor Dynasty.  In many ways, Margaret Beaufort's passion to advance her son Henry Tudor to the throne matched that of her predecessor Margaret of Anjou in regards to her son Edward.  Margaret B. would stop at nothing.

Margaret Beaufort was a direct descendant of King Edward III through his son John of Gaunt.  There is a chart below to help follow my narrative.

John of Gaunt had a wife, Blanche, and a mistress, Katherine Swynford. 

Through Blanche, John was the forefather of three kings: Henry IV (Bolingsbroke), Henry V of Agincourt fame, and Henry VI whose madness caused the War of the Roses.  When Edward, son of Margaret of Anjou, died at Tewkesbury, this line died out.

John of Gaunt produced a second line through Katherine Swynford, his mistress whom he married late in life.  Her three children were illegitimate, but later legitimized by King Richard II in 1390.  

John Beaufort, the First Earl of Somerset, had two sons.  His oldest son, John Beaufort, the First Duke of Somerset, had only one child... Margaret Beaufort.  His second son, Edmund Beaufort, the Second Duke of Somerset, is the one who caused all the trouble.  Edmund had three sons, all of whom died fighting in the War of the Roses.  Edmund Beaufort also had two illegitimate sons.  One, Edward by Margaret of Anjou, died fighting at Tewkesbury. 

Margaret never knew her father.  At the moment of her birth, her father was preparing to go to France to lead an important military expedition for King Henry VI.  Beaufort negotiated with the king to ensure that in case of his death the rights to Margaret's wardship and marriage would be granted only to his wife Margaret Beauchamp.  (Under English law, as a tenant-in-chief of the crown the wardship of Beaufort's heir fell to the crown under the feudal system.)

Alas, Margaret's father was a notable failure as a military commander just about the time Margaret was born.  His blunders in France contributed directly to the loss of many French territories towards the end of the Hundred Year's War.  John Beaufort fell out with the king after coming back from France and was banished from the royal court pending a charge of treason against him.  He committed suicide shortly afterwards in 1444. 

John Beaufort was not the only failure.  His brother Edmund Beaufort had failed even worse.  The lasting effect of the two Beaufort failures was burning resentment between the House of York and remaining members of the Beaufort family.  This would create the intense rivalry between Edmund Beaufort and Richard of York that led to the War of the Roses in 1453. 

Margaret, as an only child, was heiress to her father's fortune.  Upon her first birthday, King Henry VI broke the arrangement with Margaret's father and granted the wardship of her extensive lands to William de la Pole, 1st Duke of Suffolk, although Margaret herself remained in the custody of her mother Margaret Beauchamp.  Margaret knew happiness in her mother's home for three years, but then she was yanked away.

Apparently Margaret's mother Margaret Beauchamp did not have much say-so in the matter of her own daughter.  Incredibly, at age 4, Margaret was taken away to live with William de la Pole and his wife.  Two years later, Margaret was married.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Before his death, William de la Pole managed to arrange the marriage of his young ward Margaret to his son, John de la Pole.  Margaret was six years old!!  Her groom was an older man, seven.  The reason for the marriage?  De la Pole had been arrested and was looking to secure his son's future.  Imagine being six and married. 

In 1449, Henry VI dissolved this sham marriage and granted Margaret's wardship to his own half-brothers, Jasper and Edmund Tudor.  Margaret was 8.  Her two new 'parents' Edmund and Jasper were teenagers only about 10-12 years older than she was.

Edmund and Jasper Tudor

Edmund and Jasper Tudor were born five months apart in 1431.  Or so Wikipedia says.  Wikipedia lists Edmund's birthday as June 1431 and lists Jasper's birthday as November 1431.  The truth is that all these birthdays are guesses.  If indeed Edmund Beaufort was really Edmund Tudor's father, Edmund could have been born anywhere from three to four years earlier.  No one really knows.

Thanks to their mother Catherine, Edmund and Jasper were half-brothers to King Henry VI who was approximately ten years older.  Henry had no idea of their existence until 1436.  There was a good reason for that... Catherine kept the existence of her family a secret to avoid persecution.  It didn't work.  In 1436, someone informed Humphrey, the Regent, about Catherine's family.  Owen Tudor was arrested and sent to Newgate prison.  Catherine died at Bermondsey Abbey a few months later as a consequence of giving birth to her daughter.  On her death bed, Catherine told Henry the whole story. 

Owen Tudor was released from prison in 1439 thanks to Henry VI.  Henry granted him a general pardon, restoring his goods and lands

At his mother's dying request, Henry would also begin to care for the children.  Jasper, Edmund, and possibly their sister were put into the care of Katherine de la Pole, a nun at Barking Abbey, in Essex, from 1437 to 1442.  The de la Pole family was a great favorite of Henry VI.  Katherine was the sister of William de la Pole, 1st Duke of Suffolk, the family that was caring for Margaret Beaufort.  As one can see, the de la Poles were the connection that bound the fortunes of the Tudor boys and the Beaufort girl together.

In 1442, Henry VI, now 21, began to take a greater interest in the boy's upbringing.  Jasper and Edmund were brought to live at court. Henry arranged for the best priest to educate them intellectually and morally.  The brothers also received military training; when they grew up they were given military positions.  During this time, Henry grew very fond of the two boys and trusted them.    

In 1445, Henry VI married Margaret of Anjou.  Margaret was more or less the same age as the two boys.  The three of them got along just fine.  Margaret could see they had her husband's best interests at heart.  In addition, they had no blood ties to the English throne, so they were not a threat. 

In 1452, incredibly, Henry VI interfered with Margaret Beaufort's life again.  William de la Pole had come into great disfavor with Henry, so Henry decided to grant custody of Margaret to his two half-brothers, Edmund, 21, and Jasper Tudor, 20.  Now that Henry VI had come of age, he had the power to give earldoms to both brothers. Jasper became Earl of Pembroke 1n 1452 and Edmund became the First Earl of Richmond.  In turn, Edmund, 23, and Jasper, 21, gave Henry unwavering loyalty.  They fought for the Lancasters and promoted Henry's interests unwaveringly throughout their lives.

1453 was the year all hell would break loose in England.  England lost the Hundred Year's War, Margaret of Anjou was pregnant with Edmund Beaufort's illegitimate child, Henry VI collapsed into a catatonic state, and Richard of York was pushing hard to be named the heir presumptive of England.  

In 1453 William de la Pole fell into disfavor.  Shortly before his 1453 descent into madness, Henry VI dissolved Margaret Beaufort's first marriage and made her a ward of Edmund and Jasper with the understanding that Margaret, 9, would marry his half-brother Edmund went she grew old enough at age 12.  In March 1453, Edmund and Jasper were given joint custody of Margaret Beaufort, heiress of the Duke of Somerset. 

Two years later England was now embroiled in civil war.  Margaret was 12 when she married the 24-year-old Edmund Tudor on 1 November 1455.  The Wars of the Roses would cast a dark cloud over their marriage.  About four months after the wedding, Edmund was sent to uphold the authority of the King in South Wales. While he was there, Richard of York was overthrown by the re-awakened King Henry.  In retaliation, Yorkist forces were sent to engage those of Edmund Tudor in South Wales.  Edmund was captured at Carmarthen Castle.  He would die in captivity of bubonic plague on 3 November 1456. 

Margaret was seven months pregnant with their child when Edmund died.  Taken into the care of her brother-in-law Jasper at Pembroke Castle, the Countess gave birth on 28 January 1457 to her only child, Henry Tudor, the future Henry VII of England.  The birth was particularly difficult due to her young age and small size.  At one point, both the Countess and her child were close to death

Margaret would never give birth again.  In fact, sex was so painful that Margaret could barely stand the thought.  At 13, an age when some girls were still playing with dolls, Margaret was widowed with a baby boy and living in Wales, a rough and tumble world akin to living in the Wild, Wild West.  

Henry Stafford

Keep these three dates in mind:  3 November 1456.  28 January 1457.  6 April 1457.  Unless my math is wrong, each date is about two months apart, yes?   Husband dies, child is born, next husband begins.

Margaret was forced to marry at age 6, a thought our modern minds find inconceivable.  Her next experience was marriage at 12 to a man twice her age and twice her size.  That marriage was a nightmare.  First her new husband practically ruptured her having sex at too young an age.  Then she discovered Edmund was dead one year after the wedding.  Two months later she gave birth, an act that left her physically damaged in child birth and psychologically scarred. 

Margaret was understandably terrified of being stuck with another husband against her will.  So Margaret took matters into her own hands.  Before her child was even born, Margaret was already searching for her next husband.  Margaret set her eyes on Henry Stafford, 32, the younger son of the Duke of Buckingham.  It was a shrewd choice, a political transaction, not a personal one.  It was also a really gutsy move.

To request this marriage, Margaret was supposed to get permission from Humphrey Stafford, Henry Stafford's father.  This meant a 13 year old girl went to see a 54 year old man to ask if she could marry a 32 year old man.  One can only wonder if she waited till her child was born to go ask.  Does anyone besides me see the humor in this??

Humphrey Stafford was not just the powerful Duke of Buckingham, he was the most important member of the Lancastrian court.  This meant Margaret, age 13, 5 feet tall, 90 pounds, was meeting a 54 year-old peer of the realm to propose a marriage.  Mind you, these were the days when men ran the show. Yet frail Margaret, a remarkable teenager to say the least, was going toe to toe with one of England's big shots.  No doubt Margaret's confidence was assisted by the fact that she was a wealthy heiress of royal blood. 

The Duke of Buckingham approved her offer.  However, there was one problem... they were second cousins, so they needed a special dispensation in order to be married.  The approval came through on 6 April 1457.  This date took place just two months after Margaret gave birth on 28 January 1457.  The Countess had endured a rough childbirth, being close to death after childbirth.  Nevertheless, Margaret bounced back quickly.  She got off her death bed and immediately landed her next husband.  Impressive.

Incidentally, before I take this story any further, let me warn the reader of an impending deluge of identical names.  It took me an hour just to figure out there were two different Margaret Beauforts existing side by side.  Both Margarets had Beauchamps for mothers and both Margarets married Staffords.  Talk about confusing!

There was quite a bit of irony in Margaret's marriage to Henry Stafford... a special dispensation was required for the marriage of Margaret Beaufort and Henry Stafford because they were second cousins.  What was funny here is that previously Margaret Beaufort had unknowingly married her first cousin Edmund Tudor.

Let us not forget that Edmund Tudor potentially carried the madness of French king Charles VI.  With all this inbreeding, no wonder there is so much madness in the English line.  Thank goodness for all the illegitimate children.  Otherwise there would never be any fresh blood.

After the dispensation was granted, Margaret and Henry were free to marry.   On 3 January 1458, Margaret married Sir Henry Stafford (1425–1471), son of Humphrey Stafford, 1st Duke of Buckingham. 

However, her new marriage caused Margaret great heartache.  Margaret was forced to leave her baby son Henry behind at Pembroke Castle to go live with her new husband.  Jasper stayed behind to care for the baby boy not quite one yet. 

At the time Margaret married in 1458, the War of the Roses was at its most bitter stage.  The eventual York triumph in 1461 would bring changes to baby Henry's life. 

Control of Pembroke Castle passed to Lord William Herbert which meant Henry's Lancaster uncle Jasper was forced into exile while baby Henry stayed behind.  Since the wardship of Henry Tudor had been given to Lord Herbert, by law Henry was now living with a new family at Pembroke Castle in Wales. 

No doubt the little boy was bewildered... no father, no mother, no uncle, raised by strangers.  Fortunately Henry was treated well by his new family.  In addition, Margaret was allowed to see him occasionally.  Still, it broke her heart to know her son was growing up without her care.

The War of the Roses would cost the Stafford family immensely.

Margaret's husband Henry lost his brother Humphrey to Richard of York in the 1458 Battle of St. Albans.  His father Humphrey died in the pivotal 1460 Battle of Northampton to Warwick. 

In 1483, Henry's namesake nephew would die in a lost cause known as Buckingham's Rebellion.  Henry himself and his other brother John would both die in 1471 in battles trying to help Edward IV regain his throne. 

As one can see, in a manner similar to America's Civil War, the War of the Roses took an enormous toll of it own. 

Edward IV, a York, was the new king, so Margaret, a Lancaster, had to adjust.  Margaret had shown that she was a pragmatic woman.  In order to safeguard her fortunes, she and her husband Henry Stafford sought a rapprochement with Edward who fortunately was in a forgiving mood.  There are mixed accounts of Margaret's 13-year marriage to Henry Stafford.  On the one hand, Margaret and Henry were said to spend a great deal of time together.  The evidence of the Stafford household books shows that the couple rarely left each other's company, touring their estates and attending parliament together.

Thanks to Margaret's estate, money was not a problem, but in a way it was.  Henry Stafford had no title, but he did have some land.  Henry was given 400 marks' worth of land by the Duke of Buckingham.  This paled in comparison to Margaret's vast estates.  Strange as it must seem, this 13 year old girl dominated her 32 year old husband from the very start.  Stafford was a passive, gentle man.  Margaret got her way in virtually every dispute. 

Three years after they were married, the Yorks came into power.  Margaret was a Lancaster by birth.  So was Henry Stafford.  The couple did their best to come to terms with the new Yorkist dynasty.  Henry enjoyed close access to Edward IV, frequently hunting with him in Windsor park.  Henry and Margaret took advantage of the proximity of the King to entertain him at their hunting lodge at Brookwood.  Margaret had risen high enough in the King’s favor that they even entertained him at their home, always a huge undertaking.  What must have been going through Margaret’s head as she wined and dined the man who was responsible for so many deaths in her family?

Henry Stafford seemed exasperated with Margaret much of the time.   To begin with, Margaret was extremely pious.  Her religious tendencies made it difficult for Henry to deal with her sense of righteousness.  Every time he turned around, Margaret was explaining why he had to do something because it was 'God's Will'. 

The real strain in their marriage came when Margaret began to talk fervently about the day her son would become king.  Margaret claimed to have had a vision that her son would one day become king.  With no other children a possibility due to Margaret's earlier childbirth injuries, Margaret began to obsess about Henry.  Margaret, with her deep faith, believed that it was always God’s plan that Henry should be king. 

Unfortunately, this kind of talk was treasonous in a time when mercy was in short supply.  Stafford was torn between his obvious concern for his wife's well-being and his annoyance at her fanatical nature, given that he supported the Yorkists despite his wife's strong (and hidden) loyalty to the Lancasters.  Fortunately, Margaret had the sense to keep her radical talk inside the family walls.  She wisely kept a low political profile during her 13-year marriage to Henry Stafford. 

In 1470, Warwick and Margaret of Anjou had made their deal with the Devil.  Warwick's surprise rebellion caught King Edward totally flat-footed.  Edward barely escaped to Flanders while his wife Elizabeth Woodville took their children and fled to Westminster Abbey for sanctuary.  The Lancasters were back in charge.

One year later, in 1471 Edward staged his counter-attack.  Margaret's husband Henry Stafford suffered serious wounds at the Battle of Barnet while fighting for the victorious Yorkist side.  Henry died of his wounds shortly after.  Margaret could not decide whether she was sad or glad.  Henry Stafford had always been good to her, but she what she really wanted to do was focus on her son's destiny. 

There was a strange consequence emanating from the 1471 Battle of Barnet and subsequent Battle of Tewkesbury... the leading Lancaster men were dead!! 

The secret pillow-smother execution of Lancaster King Henry VI shortly thereafter left Margaret Beaufort and her son Henry Tudor as the senior representatives of the House of Lancaster. 

With the male line of the House of Lancaster extinct, Henry Tudor claimed to be the Lancastrian heir through his mother Margaret Beaufort.  In addition, Margaret reminded everyone that her son's father Edmund was the maternal half-brother of Henry VI.

However, at this point (1471), Yorkist Edward IV was securely established on the throne.  Henry Tudor, now 14, and Jasper Tudor were Lancasters, so they wisely went to Brittany, France, in exile. 

Meanwhile, back in England, Margaret prayed for her son Henry.  Someday Henry might have an outside shot at the throne!

Henry Tudor
 

The White Queen was a ten-part British television drama which told the War of the Roses from the female perspective.  The series was based on Philippa Gregory's historical novels The White Queen, The Red Queen, and The Kingmaker's Daughter.  It explained how three relentless women - Elizabeth Woodville, Margaret Beaufort, and Anne Neville - vied to put their sons on the throne in 15th Century England.

Margaret Beaufort left Pembroke Castle when she married Henry Stafford in 1458.  Her departure came just 28 days after giving birth toher baby boy.  This picture shows a scene in the TV series when young Henry barely knew his own mother when Margaret came to visit.  Margaret was beside herself with misery at being separated from Henry, but there was little she could do about it. 

I have to say that the White Queen series brought things to life in ways that are far superior to reading the dry Wikipedia accounts of the same events. 

The TV series was fascinating, but it was also ridiculously confusing.  There were so many characters I could not keep track of them all... sort of like my story, right?  

I will say, however, I always knew who Margaret Beaufort (Amanda Hale) was.  Margaret dominated every scene thanks to her religious zeal and fanatic determination to promote her son to the throne.

Young Henry had to struggle his entire childhood.  Like his mother, Henry Tudor never knew his father.  In 1456, Henry's father Edmund Tudor was captured while fighting for Henry VI in South Wales against the Yorkists.  He died in Carmarthen Castle, three months before Henry was born.  Edmund's brother Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, undertook to protect the young widow Margaret, who was 13 years old when she gave birth to Henry in 1457.  

The second picture is amusing because it reveals that Margaret, 42, a child bride, was young enough for her son, 28, to date.  But let's not go there. 

Henry spent his youth negotiating danger caused by the nightmare politics of the unending Wars of the Roses.  Fortunately, Henry always seemed to have Jasper, his loyal uncle, at his side for protection.  Jasper was a godsend. 

When the Lancasters were in power, Henry and Jasper were safe because King Henry VI was Jasper's half-brother.  But when the Yorks were in charge, Jasper was in danger.  Therefore when Edward IV overthrew Henry VI in 1461, Jasper Tudor went into exile abroad, but Henry stayed behind at Pembroke Castle.   The Earldom of Pembroke was granted to the Yorkist William Herbert, who now assumed the guardianship of the young Henry, 4. 

Talk about feeling orphaned!  Young Henry had never known a father and had been parted from his uncle and mother as well. Fortunately, the Herberts seem to have treated the boy kindly and had given him gentleman's education. 

Henry lived in the Herbert household for 8 years.  In 1469 Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, the Kingmaker, double-crossed and went over to the Lancaster side.  Lord Herbert was captured fighting for the Yorkists and executed by Warwick.  There was a terrible scene where young Henry had to watch his guardian Herbert beheaded.  Fortunately the boy himself was safe because Warwick was fighting for the Lancasters.

When Warwick restored Henry VI to the throne a year later in 1470, Jasper Tudor returned from exile and brought Henry Tudor to royal court.  However, Henry VI's reinstatement lasted only a year until Edward IV's comeback.

During Edward's comeback, following the Battle of Barnet, Henry had returned with his Uncle Jasper to Pembroke Castle.  It was Jasper that Margaret of Anjou had been so desperately trying to reach when Edward chased her down at Tewkesbury.  This battle affected Henry Tudor in a strange way. 

John Beaufort died in the fighting at the 1471 Battle of Tewkesbury.  John's older brother Edmund Beaufort II took refuge in Tewkesbury Abbey.  He was soon forced from sanctuary and executed.  Since the Beaufort brothers died unmarried, "the house of Beaufort and all the honors to which they were entitled became extinct". 

In other words, Tewkesbury was the 'end of the line' for the House of Beaufort, at least on the legitimate male side.  Margaret Beaufort and her son Henry were now the senior representatives of the House of Lancaster. 

The secret execution of King Henry VI came a week later in the Tower of London.  His death left Henry as the main threat to Edward IV.  Henry did not have much of a claim to the throne, but his pedigree... son of a woman who descended from royalty, son of a man who descended from the former queen... was upsetting to the Yorkists.  

This explains why Henry, 14, was forced to begin living in exile in France for his own safety.  Sensing Edward would come after them, Jasper and Henry narrowly escaped a forming siege by the Yorkist army at Pembroke Castle. They managed to sail to Brittany in 1471. 

With Yorkist King Edward IV back on the throne, Henry Tudor was now a marked man.  Since it was not safe for him to return to England, Henry would not see his mother again for 14 years.  During this period, the relationship between mother and her only son was sustained by letters.

Brittany had become something of a Lancastrian refuge.  Henry, Jasper, and a band of Lancaster loyalists spent the next 14 years under the protection of Francis II, Duke of Brittany, while Henry waited for an opening.

Duke Francis protected Henry from England's Yorkist king, Edward IV, who wanted him in his own hands. Louis XI of France also tried to get Henry into his clutches.  It was such a desperately insecure situation that Henry developed sharp instincts to survive.  The young Tudor grew to manhood cautious, prudent and deeply reserved.  This was good because Henry would need his wits to save him from danger three times in the coming years. 

The first escape came in November 1476.  When Francis, Henry's protector, fell ill, his principal advisers negotiated with the English king.  Henry was handed over and escorted to the Breton port of Saint-Malo. 

While there, Henry feigned stomach cramps.  In the confusion, Henry fled into a monastery.  Edward IV ordered his extraction with the intention of executing the lad, 19.  However, the townspeople took exception to this strong-arm behavior and alerted Duke Francis.  He recovered from his illness long enough to send a small band of scouts to rescue Henry. 

This had been a close call.  There would be others.