Dear readers, I hope you understand my difficulty in deciding whether to study 19th century history or be drawn back into medieval times. Perhaps you feel the same way and enjoy historical wanderings? I hope so, because today I have a brilliant guest. If you loved Plantagenet Princess Tudor Queen, you won't want to miss this article from author Wendy Johnson! Also, can we talk about the gorgeous cover art for her new novel, The Traitor's Son?! Read on to learn a few new things about the man people are still arguing about 500 years after his death, King Richard III.

Welcome, Wendy!

~ Samantha

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10 Things You May Not Know About the Young Richard III

Guest Post by Wendy Johnson

1. Born in 1452, Richard was the eighth son and eleventh child(!) born to his parents, Richard Duke of York and Cecily Neville, but only the fourth son to survive infancy. His eldest sibling, Anne, later Duchess of Exeter, was born in 1439 and the youngest, Ursula, born three years after Richard, sadly died aged three in 1458.
   
   
   
   
   
2. Richard was born in the same year as Leonardo da Vinci. Other famous people born around the same time include explorers, John Cabot and Christopher Columbus, and the artists, Hieronymous Bosch and Filippino Lippi.
   
   
3. The name Richard occurs many times within the family of York. The young Richard of Gloucester could boast four Richards amongst his close relatives – his father, Richard, duke of York; his grandfather, Richard, earl of Cambridge; his uncle, Richard, earl of Salisbury, and his illustrious cousin, Richard, earl of Warwick. He later went on to become the uncle of two further Richards: his nephew, Richard, duke of York (son of his brother Edward IV) and Richard of Clarence (the infant son of his brother, George).
   
   
4. In the Middle Ages, the youngest sons of the nobility were often inducted into the Church. As Richard is known to have been fluent in Latin, some have speculated that his parents initially intended an ecclesiastical career for him. Following his father’s death at the Battle of Wakefield (1460) and his brother’s accession to the crown as Edward IV (1461), it may have been felt that, family dynamics having changed, Richard’s life should remain a secular one and for the boy to undergo military training with a view to supporting his king in the years ahead.
   
   

   

   Representation of Richard's Garter Plaque from
   'The College of King Richard III at Middleham' by Joyce Melhuish.
   Drawing by Isolde Wigram.
    

   
   
5. Richard was awarded the Order of the Bath in 1461, shortly before his brother’s coronation, and invested as a Knight of the Garter in 1466. His Garter plaque can still be seen above his allotted stall on the south side of St. George’s Chapel Windsor.
   
   
6. Richard spent much of his early childhood in the company of his elder brother, George, and their sister, Margaret. Once Edward IV assumed the throne, he awarded his young siblings the Palace of Placentia (later known as Greenwich) as their principal residence. In which case it is reasonable to assume that Richard developed a closer bond with George and Margaret than he did with Edward, who was over ten years his senior.
   
   
7. Richard appears to have been in the habit of signing his books. His signature can be found within an anthology of Romances and Old Testament stories, which exists in a collection at Longleat House. This anthology contains an assortment of writings: Lydgate’s Siege of Thebes; two stories from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales; the popular medieval romance Ipomedon; and stories from the Old Testament. Experts have speculated, from the dialects and spelling used in its creation, that the Chaucerian and Lydgate sections were written in the north of England, Ipomedon in the Midlands, and the Old Testament section in the south. It has been further concluded that, although the components of the anthology may have been created separately and then stitched together, it is possible they were commissioned as a whole, and collated in northern England, or the Midlands. (A. F. Sutton and L. Viser-Fuchs, ‘Richard III’s Books II’ The Ricardian Vol. Vll, Nos. 95 and 97 (1986/87) pp. 327-332, 371-378) As the estates of Richard’s tutor, Richard Neville, earl of Warwick, lay in both these areas, it is entirely possible that the item was fashioned specifically for the young Richard as a gift from the earl. Richard’s florid signature ‘R. Gloucestre’ and the motto ‘tant le desieree’ (‘I have longed for it so much’) in the chivalric romance Ipomedon is certainly suggestive of an idealistic teenager, keen to enjoy tales of the perfect knight and to proudly inscribe his ownership upon its pages.
   
   

   

   Domtoren, Utrecht.
   The Bishop's Palace was a refuge for Richard in 1461
   
   

   
   
8. Richard spent two periods of his early life as a refugee. At the age of eight, following his father’s defeat at the Battle of Wakefield, he was sent for safety to the Low Countries (modern-day Netherlands), in the company of his elder brother, George. Both boys remained in exile for two months until their brother, Edward, won the crown at the Battle of Towton in March 1461. Less than ten years later, Richard and the king were forced to flee English shores when their cousin, the Earl of Warwick rebelled. Once again, Richard found himself in the Low Countries, this time housed at The Hague and later in Bruges, before returning to England prior to the Battle of Barnet.
   
   
9. The Battle of Barnet, fought on 14th April 1471, was Richard’s first full scale military encounter. Surprisingly, for a novice in the arts of war, he was commissioned by King Edward to lead the vanguard – the foremost division of any medieval armed force, entrusted with the task of leading the army into battle.
   
   
10. Richard lost at least two of his close attendants and friends at the Battle of Barnet, on Easter Day 1471. In July 1477, he drew up an indenture at Queen’s College, Cambridge where, in exchange for an endowment for four fellowships, the recipients would pray for, amongst others, the souls of ‘Thomas Par (sic) and John Milewater…which were slain in his service’. The fact that Parr and Milewater were interred together in the Chapel of St. Francis, at the Church of the Greyfriars, London, may possibly suggest they were buried - and their obsequies overseen - by their master Richard of Gloucester. The wording on their ledger stone, describing them as ‘valiant squires of the lord Richard, duke of Gloucester’ and the fact that they ‘died on sacred Easter Day at Barnet’ further suggests a kind intervention by their benevolent master.
    
    

Read more about the young Richard III in The Traitor's Son, which Philippa Langley described as "Exquisitely written. An evocative and thoughtful retelling of the early life of Richard III."

Caught between a king and a kingmaker, young Richard Plantagenet knows he’ll have to choose...

1461: Richard Duke of York, King by Right, has been branded a traitor and slain by his Lancastrian foes. For his eight-year-old son—Richard Plantagenet—England has become a dangerous place.

As the boy grapples with grief and uncertainty, his elder brother, Edward, defeats the enemy and claims the throne. Dazzled by his glorious sibling, young Richard soon discovers that imperfections lurk beneath his brother's majestic façade. Enter Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick—cousin, tutor, luminary—whose life has given him everything but that which he truly craves: a son. A filial bond forms between man and boy as they fill the void in each other’s lives. Yet, when treachery tears their world asunder, Richard faces an agonizing dilemma: pledge allegiance to Edward—his blood brother and king—or to Warwick, the father figure who has shaped his life and affections.

Painfully trapped between duty and devotion, Richard faces a grim reality: whatever he decides will mean a fight to the death.

In The Traitor’s Son, Wendy Johnson masterfully weaves a tapestry of loyalty, love, and sacrifice against the backdrop of England's turbulent history. Through the eyes of a young Richard III, readers are transported into a world where every choice is fraught with peril, and the bonds of kinship are tested to their limits. As Richard Plantagenet navigates the explosive tensions within his own family, readers are swept along on a journey of intrigue and passion that will leave them spellbound until the final page.

Get your copy of The Traitor's Son by Wendy Johnson!

Wendy has a lifelong passion for medieval history, its people, and for bringing their incredible stories to life. Her specific areas of interest are the fifteenth century, the Wars of the Roses, and Richard III in particular. She enjoys narratives which immerse the reader in the past, and tries faithfully to recreate the later Middle Ages within in her own writing. She has contributed to a number of historical anthologies and was a runner up in the Woman and Home Short Story Competition 2008.

A member of the Richard III Society since 1986, Wendy is also a founder member of Philippa Langley’s Looking for Richard Project, which located the king’s lost grave in 2012. She co-authored Finding Richard III: the Official Account of Research by the Retrieval and Reburial Project in 2014, and in 2019 received the Richard III Society’s Robert Hamblin Award.

THE TRAITOR’S SON, volume one in a Richard III trilogy, is Wendy’s debut novel and she is currently working on the sequel.

I am pleased to welcome Elizabeth St John to the blog today. She shares my passion for Wars of the Roses and Tudor history and even has a family connection for inspiration! So, I am excited to help her celebrate the release of her latest novel, The Godmother's Secret. If you enjoyed my Plantagenet Embers series, you are going to love this too.

Welcome, Liz!

~ Samantha

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Historical Inspiration for The Godmother's Secret

Guest Post by Elizabeth St John

When I was looking for inspiration for my new book, The Godmother’s Secret, I literally entered my own name into our digitised family tree to see who else was recorded. About half a dozen Elizabeths appeared - Victorian, Georgian, and Tudor women; some who had lived at court, others who led simple lives in the English countryside. But I was intrigued to find Elysabeth St.John who lived in the 15th century – and over the moon when I discovered she was the godmother to Edward V – the eldest brother of the missing Princes in the Tower. I had a new family story to investigate! And surely Elysabeth, above anyone else, would know what happened to those poor boys?

Bolton Castle

As a little background, my books are inspired by my own family stories that I have discovered through our ancestral records, diaries, letters, and the homes they’ve lived in – from Nottingham Castle to the Tower of London, Lydiard Park to Bolton Castle. I’m fortunate the St.John family was prominent in English history, and so we left quite a trail — which can be both good and bad! My previous novels, The Lydiard Chronicles, are based on the diaries and records of my 17th century family, and it has been a glorious research journey uncovering their words and stories.

Returning to my new main character, Elysabeth Scrope. In medieval times, a godmother was considered a blood relative, and was responsible for the spiritual wellbeing and security of their godchild. A serious commitment! Where it gets interesting is that Elysabeth St.John was also the half-sister to Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII. Elysabeth’s husband, John Scrope, 5th Baron Scrope of Bolton, was a close ally of Richard III. So not only was Elysabeth (a Lancastrian) godmother to the York heir, she was also aunt to the Tudor claimant. Talk about family feuds! Margaret was also married to Lord Thomas Stanley, a powerful follower of Richard III, until the Battle of Bosworth. And we all know how that ended.

The St.John ancestral home, Lydiard Park, has a wonderful collection of paintings and documents, scholarly reports and papers tracing the history of the family all the way back to the 14th century. So I’ve a rich and always growing repository of content to research and explore. And it’s when I started making those connections – as in The Godmother’s Secret – seeing who the St.John women married, who they were allied with, where they lived, that I realized the vast web of political and social influences the family had during the Wars of the Roses.

The Godmother’s Secret revolves around Elysabeth’s vow as godmother and her desperate efforts to protect her 12-year-old godson, Edward V, from the intrigue and betrayal that surrounds him after she delivers him to the Tower of London for his coronation. He was automatically king upon the death of his father Edward IV (“the king never dies”). However, he had yet to be anointed when the Duke of Buckingham moved Edward into the Tower for his own safekeeping and to prepare for his coronation. In my novel, Elysabeth is navigating her own conflict, upholding her loyalty to both her husband and her sister as competing factions battle for the throne. More than anything, Elysabeth defies the bounds of blood and loyalty to make her own decisions for her godson’s survival in a hostile medieval world where women had little authority.

What was fascinating as I started digging deep into the research were the layers upon layers of rumours, gossip and myths that surrounded Edward V and his younger brother Richard, Duke of York. Our common perception today is very often “Richard III killed his nephews, the Princes in the Tower” (a name for them that only came into being in the Victorian times). Most of what we think about Richard is derived from Shakespeare’s eponymous play, which in turn drew from Thomas More’s account, written during the reign of Henry VIII. As I read further, first hand accounts from foreign diplomats and letters between English merchants revealed only that the boys were not seen after the summer of 1483; later rumours were reported that Richard III had murdered them.

The princes vanished. Their bodies were never discovered, and no one was ever found guilty of murdering them. Even the bones that are claimed to be theirs in Westminster Abbey are not authenticated. Their disappearance is the biggest mystery in English history. And that is where I landed as a historical fiction novelist. I could weave in genuine family facts and create my version of their story. About halfway through the first draft I came across a piece of family history (basically a dynastic marriage) that made my story plausible, which was really exciting.

As far as if my version is true? It’s historical fiction. We create narratives from the known facts, sift through rumours and gossip until we find the source – or can dismiss them. Until the next fact comes along.

As a writer friend recently said to me, “history is fragile”. We were commiserating that we were both rewriting significant parts of our novel because of previously unfound documents that suddenly came to light. Incredibly exciting and a lot of hard work to reform plots! We don’t know when the next letter, diary or document will reveal a completely different truth than one that we hold dear today. So we write what we know, what we can authenticate, what we believe is history. For now.

What if you knew what happened to the Princes in the Tower. Would you tell? Or would you forever keep the secret?

November, 1470: Westminster Abbey. Lady Elysabeth Scrope faces a perilous royal duty when ordered into sanctuary with Elizabeth Woodville – witness the birth of Edward IV’s Yorkist son. Margaret Beaufort, Elysabeth’s sister, is desperately seeking a pardon for her exiled son Henry Tudor. Strategically, she coerces Lancastrian Elysabeth to be appointed godmother to Prince Edward, embedding her in the heart of the Plantagenets and uniting them in a destiny of impossible choices and heartbreaking conflict.

Bound by blood and torn by honour, when the king dies and Elysabeth delivers her young godson into the Tower of London to prepare for his coronation, she is engulfed in political turmoil. Within months, the prince and his brother have disappeared, Richard III is declared king, and Margaret conspires with Henry Tudor to invade England and claim the throne. Desperate to protect her godson, Elysabeth battles the intrigue, betrayal and power of the last medieval court, defying her husband and her sister under her godmother’s sacred oath to keep Prince Edward safe.

Were the princes murdered by their uncle, Richard III? Was the rebel Duke of Buckingham to blame? Or did Margaret Beaufort mastermind their disappearance to usher in the Tudor dynasty? Of anyone at the royal court, Elysabeth has the most to lose – and the most to gain – by keeping secret the fate of the Princes in the Tower.

Inspired by England’s most enduring historical mystery, Elizabeth St.John, best-selling author of The Lydiard Chronicles, blends her own family history with known facts and centuries of speculation to create an intriguing alternative story illuminating the disappearance of the Princes in the Tower.

The Godmother's Secret is available now on Amazon & FREE with Kindle Unlimited!

Connect with Elizabeth St John

Elizabeth St.John spends her time between California, England, and the past. An acclaimed author, historian, and genealogist, she has tracked down family papers and residences from Lydiard Park and Nottingham Castle to Richmond Palace and the Tower of London to inspire her novels. Although the family sold a few country homes along the way (it's hard to keep a good castle going these days), Elizabeth's family still occupy them — in the form of portraits, memoirs, and gardens that carry their legacy. And the occasional ghost. But that's a different story.

Having spent a significant part of her life with her seventeenth-century family while writing The Lydiard Chronicles trilogy and Counterpoint series, Elizabeth St.John is now discovering new family stories with her fifteenth-century namesake Elysabeth St.John Scrope, and her half-sister, Margaret Beaufort.

Connect with Liz on her Website, Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Instagram, Book Bub, Amazon Author Page, or Goodreads.

Bosworth and the Brandons

August 22nd is famous as the date of the Battle of Bosworth and the end of the Plantagenet dynasty. It is true that Richard III died on this day in 1485 in a courageous final charge in defense of his kingdom, but the day was also a turning point for the Brandon family.

Sir William Brandon was a standard bearer for Henry Tudor, the man who challenged Richard on the field near Bosworth. William was the son of a Cambridgeshire knight of the same name and is best known for the circumstances of his death and the son he left behind. William had been a part of the failed Buckingham Rebellion, but he continued to support Tudor's claim to England, leaving behind a wife and children including an infant son to fight at Bosworth. Shortly before King Richard was brought down by a swarm of enemies, William Brandon died by his hand.

Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk

Charles Brandon was less than two years old when his father died in battle, but William's service to Henry Tudor ensured his son's bright future in a way that might never have occurred had William survived. When King Richard was killed and Tudor crowned as Henry VII, the new king was eager to reward those who had made his reign a reality. Therefore, the young son of the royal standard bearer was brought up alongside the his own children.

This privileged position gave Charles the opportunity to become a close companion to the boy who would become Henry VIII. Charles was an opportunist, eventually going so far as to marry the king's sister, Mary. Even being one of Henry's closest friends did not entirely save Charles from his wrath after this treasonous move. The couple was fined and removed from court for a time but were eventually forgiven and welcomed back.

It had been Charles' only significant fall from royal favor. His relationship with King Henry brought Charles several lucrative and privileged positions and titles. At the pinnacle of his success, this son of a Cambridgeshire knight was made Duke of Suffolk, a title that had been previously held by the Yorkist de la Pole family. Charles was at Henry's side at the Field of Cloth of Gold and through his Great Matter and the Dissolution of the Monasteries.

Charles Brandon died on August 22, 1545, exactly 60 years after his father.

The two sons he left behind followed him to the grave six short years later, dying of the sweating sickness on the very same day. This left Charles' daughter, Frances, as head of the family. She and her husband, Henry Grey, inherited the Suffolk title and attempted their own grasp for the crown through their daughter, Lady Jane Grey, in 1553. The Brandon family had come a long way, but this was a step too far. Both Henry and Jane were executed for treason under Queen Mary I.

Unmasking the Villain

I am a guest at the Henry Tudor Society today, discussing why neither Richard III nor Henry VII is a villain.

It has become standard practice for history enthusiasts to be an unquestioning supporter of either Henry VII or Richard III, naming the other as the worst villain of their age. Is this a fair assessment? Keep reading...

How Did Henry Tudor Become King?

Love him or hate him, one has to admit that Henry Tudor defied all odds when he claimed the kingdom of England as his own. When the crown was laid on his head on August 22, 1485, it likely surprised him as much as the rest of the country. Richard III, the last Plantagenet king, certainly had not expected to be defeated by the "Welsh milksop." How did it happen? What chain of events fell into place to turn a minor half Welsh nobleman into a king?

Henry's ascendancy cannot be credited to his bloodline. Though history enthusiasts argue to this day regarding the strength of his claim, Henry himself made little attempt to justify his grasp at power that way. He claimed his rich Welsh heritage through his grandfather, Owen Tudor. His mother, Margaret Beaufort, did have a bloodline that eventually reached back to Edward III through John of Gaunt's mistress, but this was hardly a fact that would place him near the throne.

Except that it did.

Henry may not have had much royal blood, but with noble cousins killing each other on battlefields for the last 30 years of the Wars of the Roses, few stronger options existed. Yes, there were other relations, but each remaining family line had some weakness in it before it reached back to a solid royal root. In the end, the fitness of his blood didn't matter, because Henry Tudor won the crown through conquest, just as his distant relative William of Normandy had.

Why was England in this state where distant royal bastard lines were considered for kingship? It all started with the many sons of Edward III. 

Edward III's heir gave all signs of being a medieval knight quite capable of following in his father's footsteps. Probably for his dark armor, or possibly because of acts committed in France, this younger Edward became known as the Black Prince. Unfortunately, the he died shortly before his father, leaving a young Richard II on the throne surrounded by uncles and cousins who coveted power.

Richard II was forced to abdicate by his cousin, Henry Bolingbroke, who was the son of John of Gaunt - another of Edward III's sons. When he became king in 1399, Henry IV set the stage for the Wars of the Roses that would clear the way for the Tudor dynasty. Considered the Lancastrian branch of the Plantagenet royal family due to John of Gaunt's title as Duke of Lancaster, Henry's reign almost immediately came under fire from the Mortimer family, which had ties to Edward III's second son, George, and fourth son, Edmund. Henry proved capable of quelling those rebellions, and the country rallied behind his son when he became Henry V.

Henry V was considered everything that a medieval king should be. He pressed to reclaim lands in France that had previously been in English hands under Henry II, the original Plantagenet king. No one felt a need to point out that his father had been a usurper. Things might have gone on swimmingly had Henry V not died too young, leaving a 9 month old Henry VI as king.

Henry VI was raised and advised by his uncles, and never seemed capable of shaking his need for their instruction - or at least someone's instruction. His mother was Catherine of Valois, daughter of Charles VI of France who was quite insane when he died. Both Catherine and Henry would eventually demonstrate signs that they suffered the same malady.

The young widow Catherine made a scandalous second marriage to a servant of her household. His name was Owen Tudor. This connection gives Henry Tudor one link to the royal family, but not his strongest one. It did, however, give him his Tudor name that would go down in history.

Henry VI proved completely incapable of ruling, becoming victim to those who would manipulate and mislead him before falling into long trances of madness. Soon the Duke of York was pressing his claim as heir presumptive, and calling Henry unfit for duty. Were it not for the strength, or some would say stubbornness of Henry's queen Margaret of Anjou, that may have been an end of things. Richard of York may have been king as agreed by Henry when he made him his heir, disinheriting his own young son.

Margaret took the fight to the York supporters, and many noblemen answered her call in defense of their anointed king. Over the course of three decades, generations of earls and dukes, many of whom could trace their family tree back to reach Edward III, were left dead on fields of battle. By the time Henry Tudor defeated Richard III at Bosworth, there truly were few left who had a better blood claim, and none had struck down the last king in battle.

Before we reach that moment though, we must give attention to England's York kings. Richard Duke of York who had originally taken up the fight was killed in the battle of Wakefield in 1460. Instead of giving them victory, the Lancastrians now were faced with a vengeful Edward Earl of March, now Duke of York. The 17 year old heir of York was the epitome of a soldier, standing tall and golden above the men around him and looking every bit the Plantagenet king that Henry VI was not.

When he became king in 1461, he continued to battle the supporters of Henry VI for over a decade. The fighting did not come to an end until 1471, when the Lancastrian prince was killed in battle and Henry VI was disposed of in the Tower. With nobody to threaten him, Edward IV could have enjoyed a long and peaceful reign. Like his predecessor, Henry V, Edward made the mistake of dying too young and leaving the future vague and turbulent.

His heir was 12 year old Edward, who was immediately proclaimed Edward V with his uncle Richard of Gloucester as protector. Without debating whether Richard was the one who murdered Edward and his brother, we will simply say that it was Richard who was crowned while the young sons of Edward IV disappeared. Their fate as the Princes in the Tower is one of history's greatest mysteries, and was another key slipping into place opening the way for Henry Tudor.

Whether Richard III had done away with the boys or not, enough people questioned his innocence and his motivation in taking his nephew's crown. He faced rebellion from the Duke of Buckingham, who also had a fair share of royal blood, and the constant threat of the followers of Henry Tudor from exile. When Henry landed in Wales, Richard likely saw it as a chance to rid himself of an annoyance. Since Richard's wife and son had both recently died, he had nobody to follow him if he died in battle besides the sons of his sisters and young Edward of Warwick, son of Richard's brother George.

One of those men did challenge Henry VII after he was made the first Tudor king. John de la Pole led forces at Stoke in 1487, supposedly in favor of the imprisoned Edward of Warwick though it is just as likely that de la Pole was fighting for his own rights as Richard III's heir. He was killed, and Henry Tudor cemented his place in history as the father of the Tudor dynasty, a phenomenon that none of his forefathers could have predicted.

Henry also took the step of strengthening his claim through the blood of his wife. He married Elizabeth or York, the oldest child of Edward IV. She was a peaceful and uniting presence, bearing Henry sons to carry on the Tudor name. After more than three centuries, the Plantagenet dynasty was no more, and the Tudors would go on to become one of the most famous dynasties that ever reigned in England.

Henry IV Becomes King

On September 30, 1399, the seed for the Wars of the Roses was planted. Though the first Lancastrian king came to the throne to high acclaim, it was this action that would eventually lead to the bloody battle between cousins when his grandson, Henry VI, proved inept. Arguing that Lancastrians should never have been kings in the first place, Richard Duke of York brought his own claim forward.

Long before that path of events could have been foreseen, Henry IV had to fight plenty of his own battles to defend his right to reign, even after convincing his cousin, Richard II, to abdicate. Rebellions against the usurper king kept him in an almost constant state of war, despite the fact that he did prove a better ruler than Richard had been.

The first challenge of his reign came quickly from the Welsh led by Owen Glendower in 1400. Allied with the Percys and Mortimers of England, who felt that Edmund Mortimer had a better claim to the throne than Henry. The Welsh were burdened by heavy taxes and revolted against his rule. They also received assistance from Charles VI of France, who was always eager for the opportunity to undermine the English.

The best known battle of rebellion against Henry IV was that led by another Henry. The Earl of Northumberland Henry Percy was known as Hotspur for his fury in battle. Though he had helped put Henry Bolingbroke on the throne, he became disillusioned with his rule and joined the rebellion as a strong and important ally. With the goal of placing Edmund Mortimer Earl of March on the throne in Henry's place, Hotspur's warrior zeal was brought against his king near Shrewsbury on July 21, 1403.

After surprisingly skilled assistance from his son, the future Henry V then a prince of almost 16 years of age, Henry IV proved victorious. Henry Percy was killed in the battle, leaving his troops to be slaughtered in retreat.

The new Earl of Northumberland, another Henry Percy, did not wait long to attempt to right the wrongs that he felt had taken place on that field near Shrewsbury. In 1405, he conspired with Thomas Mowbray Earl of Nottingham to remove Henry IV from power. They, too, were defeated, and Mowbray was executed while Percy went into exile.

Owen Glendower had increased his power in Wales but had not been successful in overthrowing Henry, and his allies were reducing in number with every battle. Henry was able to subdue the Welsh and drive the French from the country with the help of his warrior son. Prince Henry took on increasing duties as a soldier and in government as his father's health began to fail.

As Henry V, this infamous warrior took the war to the French with successes that had not been seen since his ancestor Richard I. If it weren't for the early death of Henry V, we may not have seen civil war erupt among cousins. As the epitome of medieval kingship, there were no whispers of the Lancastrian line being usurpers when Henry V was king. However, his son was only 9 months old when the burden of the crown was thrust upon him, and he never proved capable of carrying it.

The rebellion of Richard Duke of York with the support of Richard Earl of Salisbury was the result of Henry VI's poor rule. Though Richard himself would never wear the crown, two of his sons did, becoming Edward IV and Richard III in turn. The defeat of Richard III by Henry Tudor in 1485 was the final defeat between the Lancastrians and Yorks, leaving a Tudor on the throne and the Plantagenet dynasty at an end.

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Are English Monarchs Guilty of Legalized Murder?

A few of my recent posts have turned into discussions of executions

performed by various Plantagenet and Tudor monarchs. Often, in a conversation of the end of one dynasty and the beginning of the next, proponents of one king or the other are likely to pull questionable killings out of the debate arsenal. The truth is, whether you think Henry VII was a horrid usurper or saved the country from the evil villain Richard III, most of these men - and women - have some blood on their hands.

Limiting myself to the 15th and 16th centuries, I decided to take a look at executions that may qualify more as murders ordered by the kings and queens of England.

Henry IV

The most infamous execution under Henry IV's reign is that of Richard II. Rumors abound regarding the death of this inept king who was replaced by his royal cousin. While Richard may have starved himself as he suffered from severe depression, there is no doubt that he died under Henry IV's watch on February 14, 1400.

Henry V

Unlike many who would follow him, Henry V does not have a lengthy list of Englishmen who met their end at his hands. One exception is his friend John Oldcastle who was charged with heresy. This Henry is better known for his escapades in France, where he ordered the execution of French prisoners and the starvation of women and children at Rouen.

Henry VI

This gentle and mentally ill monarch may not have ordered questionable executions himself, but England became a bloody killing field during his reign. Many blame his wife, Margaret of Anjou, for sending thousands of soldiers to their deaths rather than let those next in line advise Henry. Others see her as a strong example of a devoted wife and mother. However you judge her, noblemen began to die in droves until the ascendancy of Edward of York.

Edward IV

Edward would eventually follow the example set by his distant cousin, Henry IV, and order the death of Henry VI. Though this did not happen until 1471, after the death of the displaced king's son and heir, Edward undoubtedly saw Henry's death as the beginning of peace after two violent decades of civil war. Officially, Henry died of melancholy.

Some claim that the death of Edward of Lancaster, son of Henry VI, was also murder by Edward or his followers. All that is known for sure is that he fell at Tewkesbury, during or shortly following the battle.

George of Clarence, Edward's own brother, is another mysterious execution that took place at Edward's command. It is also one of the events that got this discussion started here.

Edward was grew bold in his willingness to clear the land of his opponents. Was this in reaction to the death of his father, Richard of York, and brother, Edmund? Richard had hidden behind armies while asking to advise the king. Edward showed no such hesitance. After Hedgeley Moor, he executed the Lancastrian leaders. He was also not afraid to pull his enemies from sanctuary.

Edward V

The doomed Edward V had little opportunity to order any executions. As the 12 year old heir to Edward IV, he was soon replaced by his uncle Richard III. Was Edward a bastard or Richard a usurper? We may never know.

Before Richard was crowned, he ordered the executions of Anthony Woodville and Richard Grey. These deaths technically took place during Edward's reign, if we can even call it that, but he certainly didn't order them. Anthony was a father figure to Edward, but a threat to Richard. There is little question who truly ordered these deaths.

Richard III

Richard's short reign is plagued by questionable deaths, starting with those already mentioned. The hasty execution of William Hastings is also often noted by many as evidence of Richard's ruthlessness. Hastings, a friend and counselor of Edward IV was summarily killed when Richard became convinced that he was plotting against him with Woodville allies.

Richard is also responsible for the execution of Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham, after his ill-fated rebellion against his one-time friend. Richard refused even to speak to Buckingham or give him an opportunity to defend himself. Though Richard is also criticized for this, it was standard procedure of the day.

Finally and most dramatically, Richard is held responsible for the murder of his nephews, Edward and Richard, better known as the Princes in the Tower. Though some have attempted to clear Richard's name of this crime, the fact remains that the two boys disappeared while in Richard's care.

Henry VII

Henry VII is often overlooked in favor of the more intriguing kings that bookend his reign. While some believe he deserves more credit and attention, others believe his ruthlessness is what is understated.

Henry showed himself merciful when he made the rebel figurehead, Lambert Simnel, a member of his household rather than having the boy executed. However, Henry would later execute others with eyes for his throne. Perkin Warbeck, Edward of Warwick, and Ralph Wilford each met this end. Henry also sent assassins after Richard de la Pole in Europe in much the way his son would later hunt Reginald Pole.

Henry VIII

It would be possible to write quite a long list of those who fell to the ax under Henry VIII's order. Another Duke of Buckingham met a treasonous end, this one the son of Henry Stafford. Not stopping there, Henry also trumped up charges against several remaining Plantagenets, including Henry Pole, Margaret Pole, Henry Courtenay, Edmund de la Pole, and Henry Howard.

Henry was fast to cross the fine line between love and hate, executing several former friends. Most notable among these are Thomas Moore and Thomas Cromwell. Of course we cannot forget his unfortunate wives, Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, in addition to the several men who went to their deaths with them.

Deaths at Henry's order could fill a book, so we will simply agree at this point that he may be the bloodiest, and least predictable of the monarchs considered here.

Edward VI

Edward was young and advised by others throughout his reign, leaving little to accuse him of. Possibly the most shocking execution orders signed by him were for his own uncles, Edward and Thomas Seymour. The Tudors like to keep murder in the family.

Mary

Was "Bloody Mary" truly more ruthless than her predecessors or her sister? Protestants, like Thomas Cranmer, would burn at Mary's order, but the same occurred during her father's reign. She gave into pressure to have Jane Grey executed, but Elizabeth went on to make the remaining Grey sisters sorry to be alive. Mary's reign had its fair share of horrid deaths, but they were less than ordered by her father, and at least she remained consistent regarding who she stood against.

Elizabeth

The glorious virgin queen excelled were her sister did not: public relations. Like her father, she executed noblemen who got out of line, including Thomas Percy, Robert Devereux, Thomas Howard, and, of course, Mary Queen of Scots. Several priests met their end, despite Elizabeth's reputation as

religiously tolerant. Elizabeth was also talented in punishments that did not include death. She played a decades' long marriage game with Robert Dudley (and half the other eligible bachelors in Europe), imprisoned the Grey sisters, their spouses, and children when they dared to start families that may match Elizabeth in royal blood.

Many other pieces of evidence could be brought against each of these monarchs, but in the end it may be true that they are each guilty of legalized murder. This seems inexcusable to us by modern standards, but monarchs of the 15th and 16th centuries had long precedent of using ruthless methods to ensure their power.

The Coronation of Richard III

July 6, 2015 is the 532^nd anniversary of one of the most controversial events in English history. Many historians and Wars of the Roses enthusiasts continue to debate Richard of Gloucester’s motivations and intentions when he took the crown of England from his young nephew, who was already being called Edward V. I will leave that debate for another day as we look at what the coronation of Richard III may have looked like.

Richard’s coronation was shared with his wife, Anne Neville, who was crowned queen at his side. Their son, another Edward, remained in the north. Did they fear for his health or safety? It is unknown, but the fact remains that he died less than a year later so poor health is a possibility.

Richard’s brother Edward IV had been a boisterous and glamorous king, probably not unlike his grandson, Henry VIII. Except that Edward had better luck with the fertility of his queen, Elizabeth Woodville, and therefore never experienced the frustration to beget a son that defines so much of Henry’s reign. Edward had set a high standard for pageantry and magnificence that Richard’s coronation met and exceeded.

Anne’s dress was handcrafted out of 27 yards of white cloth of gold, trimmed in ermine. Over it, she wore a velvet robe and mantle in royal purple. This purple stretched behind Anne in the form of a stunning train created from 56 yards of the precious velvet. With her proud Neville background, Anne surely looked every bit a Queen of England.

Richard was dressed no less magnificently than his bride in his own purple velvet mantle that was exchanged for one in glimmering cloth of gold once the ceremony at Westminster Abbey was completed. He and Anne had been reverently anointed with holy oil, recognizing them as monarchs of England and representatives of God.

The banquet following the solemn mass was another example of amazing ceremony, especially considering the brief period of time that had been taken to plan it. Course after course of savory foods and delicate desserts were served to the most important people in the land. Richard and Anne were served from dishes of rich gold and silver.

Contrary to what some may believe about Richard’s reputation as a villain and usurper, great rejoicing took place at his coronation. Though Edward V may or may not have been the legitimate heir (that, too, is a discussion for another day), the people of England had suffered through too many years of civil war that were the result of a child king who never truly grew up. Rather than taking the chance that young Edward would become a second Henry VI, many nobles were eager to back the capable brother of the previous king. More than 3,000 people including most of the nobility attended the coronation feast in a celebration that has not seen its equal since.

Since I have a particular interest in her, I have often wondered what Elizabeth of York was thinking as Richard III’s coronation took place. Still in sanctuary with her mother and sisters, Elizabeth would have still been in shock at the death of her larger than life father and the bastardization of herself and her siblings. Did she see Richard as a grasping villain?

Nine more months would go by before Elizabeth and her sisters would leave sanctuary with their mother. In this time, Richard ruled well, but somehow misplaced Elizabeth’s brothers. Did he have them murdered to solidify his own strength and eliminate future heads of rebellion? Did someone else do away with them, thinking they were doing Richard a favor? Possibly a member of the Lancastrian remnant rid the country of two more York boys, or they simply sickened and died. Many authors have written in the hope that the boys didn’t die at all but escaped or were sent away by Richard for their own safety. We do not know the truth to this day, but this is an issue that Elizabeth would have struggled with.

When she went to court, no longer as a princess but as the bastard daughter of the king’s brother, what thoughts were coursing through her mind? Maybe Elizabeth believed the story of her father’s precontract. After all, she was old enough to know that he had been many things, but monogamous was not one of them. To overhear one conversation between her and Richard is a privilege that I wish there was a way to obtain.

Whether Elizabeth hated Richard, was in love with him, or had a relationship that fell somewhere in between, his reign was not to last. Shortly following the deaths of his heir and then his queen, Richard fell in a courageous charge at Bosworth, defending his crown from Henry Tudor on August 22, 1485. Henry had promised to marry Elizabeth the previous Christmas and made good on that promise on January 18, 1486. 

Death of the Last Plantagenet Princess

Like most of us when we hold our newborn baby in our arms, Isabel Neville would never have guessed at the future of her tiny daughter when she was born on August 14, 1473. The baby's name was Margaret, and she seemed to have a secure future as a Plantagenet princess. Her father, George of Clarence, was the younger brother of King Edward IV, who had successfully won the English crown for York.

Through much trial and tribulation, Margaret's life did not go at all as Isabel likely imagined, though she was kept from witnessing it herself. Isabel died in 1476, attempting to give George another son. Therefore, this proud Neville woman would not see her husband executed by his own brother for treason after he had plotted with her father to overthrow the king. This was the first in a long line of deaths and disappointments that would define Margaret's life.

After the death of her father and mother, Margaret and her

brother Edward of Warwick were left orphans in a volatile court. Following his brother in death after only five years, Edward IV had not put much effort into the raising of his brother's children. When his youngest brother Richard took the throne from his own son, the favor was returned in spades. Academics and armchair historians continue to debate the motivations and facts behind Richard's usurpation to this day, but little Margaret was 10 years old and floating in a churning political sea.

Two cousins, The Princes in the Tower, were lost to Margaret at this time, but she was housed with their sisters, the daughters of Edward IV. Included in this household was Elizabeth of York, who Margaret would go on to serve as a lady in waiting when Elizabeth married Henry Tudor. Margaret was quickly married off by Henry VII to a firm supporter who could be trusted to keep a former princess in line, Richard Pole.

Though Margaret was likely only 14 when this wedding took place, evidence indicates that it was a happy marriage and Margaret was probably thankful for the stability it brought to her life, despite it being a very different type of life than her mother would have envisioned for her. This happiness was relatively brief. Richard died in 1504, leaving Margaret with five children, the last possibly having been born after his father's death.

Margaret's life under Henry VII was calm if, at times, destitute, but his son, Henry VIII decided to raise her up. Made Countess of Salisbury in 1512, Margaret was shown the respect and given the riches that recognized the position she had been born into. While her sons were forced to carefully present themselves at court as not to be seen by Henry as rivals to the throne, she seemed to be in favor.

Margaret was named as governess to the Princess Mary, and stood firmly by her and her mother Queen Katherine of Aragon when Henry decided that it was time for a new wife to give him his longed for son. Margaret's sons were a torture to Henry just as Catherine Grey's sons would be to his daughter a generation later.

Henry, Arthur, Reginald, and Geoffrey managed mostly to please the king and keep him from feeling threatened by them, unlike the duke of Buckingham who was executed for treason in 1521. The Pole boys were careful not to point out their closeness to the throne and their royal Plantagenet blood.

However, Henry VIII was famous for seeing demons where none existed, and the Poles simply could not bring themselves to support Anne Boleyn or the reformation of the Church of England. By 1538, Margaret saw many members of her extended family arrested, including her firstborn, Henry lord Montegue. He was executed, along with his noble cousins Exeter and Neville, by the end of the year. Margaret and her youngest son, Geoffrey, continued to languish in prison. (Arthur had died around 1527.)

Geoffrey, the weakest willed of the strong Poles, was released after two suicide attempts. Was Henry merciful or could see that freedom and life were the harshest punishment to the boy who had given evidence against his older brother? Margaret was kept under house arrest for some time before being transferred to the Tower.

As Henry's failure to beget an heir and declining health caused ever increasing cruelty and mood swings, he took aim at the Plantagenet remnant that he felt sure had eyes on his crown. Reginald was forced into exile as his brother's small children were also taken to the Tower. Not a soul was bragging about Plantagenet blood now.

On May 27, 1541, this day 474 years ago, Margaret was woken in her Tower cell and informed that she would die that day. Henry had determined a need to clear the Tower of traitors and Margaret's continued longevity was rather inconvenient. The execution was kept quiet, for even Henry understood the poor reception his actions would receive. Margaret, for her part, is reported to have accepted her fate with royal dignity, even when the inexperienced axeman hacked ruthlessly at her head and upper body. Her painful and unnecessary death rid Henry of that generation of Plantagenets (his father had executed Margaret's brother Edward without cause), and his children would do their part to execute those that remained.

The bloody Wars of the Roses may have been long over for most families, but for the York remnant the fight for life and position carried on until the last Plantagenet princess, Margaret Countess of Salisbury, was executed by her cousin's son at the age of 67. In 1886, Margaret was beatified by the Catholic Church and became Blessed Margaret Pole.

What Were They Like?

One of the elements that I love about reading and writing historical fiction is that we can explore what historical figures were really like. How did they behave, were they happy, how can we fill in the blanks around the hard facts?

People have asked me many times how I can read books about the same people or how I can enjoy a story when I know how it is going to end. To me, it never gets old. One author's version of a person is never the same as anyone else's. I actually have a mental scale that I use when rating books about Richard III. Are they closer to Shakespeare or Penman? I love seeing how different motivations and consequences can lead up to the portions of history that we know about.

Elizabeth of York is a historical figure with many gaps to fill in her life. We know a lot about her family. As a daughter, sister, niece, wife, and mother of various kings of England, it would have been difficult to keep her a secret. But there are so many questions.

Did she love her uncle, Richard III, and did he love her? Was her marriage to Henry Tudor happy, and did she dare help him plan his attack? Upon seeing Perkin Warbeck, did she believe he was her long lost brother Richard? Did she hate Henry for killing Edward of Warwick? Was it Prince Arthur's death that drove her to try for one more son, resulting in her childbed fever death on her 37th birthday?

I could go on, but I won't. Actually, I did. My fictional take on these questions and many others are what became the basis for Plantagenet Princess, Tudor Queen. In the numerous novels and reference books that I have read on the Wars of the Roses and the Princes in the Tower, Elizabeth seems to be a forgotten pawn, though she lived in the center of it all.

What do you love about reading historical fiction?

Medieval Cloud of Witnesses

The cloud of witnesses, as described in Hebrews 12, is the huge audience of Christian saints who have died before us but surround us and join us in prayer and worship. Never before have I more strongly felt the presence of this phenomenon as I did today when two of my great loves came together: medieval history and my faith.

I have an almost painful desire to be a participant in the reinterment of Richard III this week, but I have to settle for catching pictures and short video clips online. As I sang, took communion, and worshiped in church this morning, however, I understood that I do have a connection to my fellow Christians in history.

Maybe my mind wasn't exactly where it should have been, because as I was shuffling slowly forward to participate in the Eucharist, I imagined Elizabeth of York. First as a Plantagenet princess, then as a Tudor queen, Elizabeth would have practiced a faith much like my own. A picture of her gliding toward the altar of a soaring cathedral formed in my mind. Her gown would gently brush across the floor and rushes until she would kneel down before the revered bread and wine.

Of course, my imagination quickly expanded this picture to include other people in Elizabeth's life, including her uncle Richard. We may never know this side of heaven what Richard's relationship was with Elizabeth or whether he ordered her brothers killed, but that is part of what makes them so intriguing. I do not have any more answers about Richard than anyone else, though many will claim to know more, but I am excited about this unique opportunity to witness the burial of a medieval monarch. 

Many history enthusiasts will enjoy being a part of Richard's reinterment services though they do not share his faith. While I cannot be there in body, I am certainly there in spirit as I imagine the medieval people that I almost consider friends surrounding me as my prayers join with theirs. 

Loyaulte me lie.