Did Margaret Beaufort “fight all her life to make her son King?”

Posted on April 11, 2021April 11, 2021 By Gareth - Editor

“This baby must be a son – this is what my vision is telling me. My son will inherit the throne of England. The horror of war with France will be ended by the rule of my son. The unrest in our country will be turned into peace by my son. I shall bring him into the world, and I shall put him on the throne, and I shall guide him in the ways of God that I shall teach him. This is my destiny: to put my son on the throne of England, and those who laughed at my vision and doubted my vocation will call me My Lady, the King’s Mother. I shall sign myself Margaret Regina: Margaret the queen.”

– Margaret Beaufort in the “Red Queen” by Philippa Gregory

It’s a brilliant book. If you haven’t read it, I strongly recommend you do.

It’s also a book that reminds us how powerful fiction is. Since this book, and the “White Queen” TV series that is partially based on it, public perceptions of Margaret have shifted starkly.

Margaret is no longer the shrewd elder stateswoman who sensed an opportunity for her son. No longer is she the sage advisor who gently guided her boy and his wife in the early years of their fragile reign.

Instead, she is the fanatic. The woman that fought her whole life to put her son on the throne. And in doing so, she was fuelled by a belief that she was in partnership with the almighty himself.

Popular fiction has changed perceptions of Margaret

It’s the basis of a great storybook. But it’s a questionable way of doing history.

Henry VII, Margaret Beaufort’s son, owed his mother a great debt. It was she who sensed an opportunity for him as Richard III’s rule quickly crumbled. It was she who negotiated Henry’s marriage to Elizabeth, the Yorkist heiress. And it was she who attracted early supporters to the Tudor banner.

But if she really believed from birth that he was destined for the throne, she had a funny way of showing it.

Here are just three reasons why it’s unlikely Margaret had such hopes for her son before 1483.

If anyone ever thought Margaret had a claim to the throne, it was dismissed in 1449

During her childhood, Margaret’s guardian was the Duke of Suffolk, a powerful minister and a man with enemies.

No doubt with an eye on Margaret’s fortune, Suffolk “married” his charge to his own son, John. The Duke’s enemies deliberately misconstrued this. Among other charges, Suffolk was accused in Parliament of plotting:

“to destroy your most royal person [Henry VI] and your true subjects of the same realm; with the intention of making John, son of the same duke [of Suffolk], king of this your said realm, and to depose you from your high regality of the same; the same duke of Suffolk then having of your grant the wardship and marriage of Margaret, daughter and heir of John, late duke of Somerset, proposing to marry her to his said son, claiming and pretending her to be the next to inherit the crown of this your realm.”

The claim was clearly bogus. Suffolk had no interest in putting his own lad on the throne. But it has given rise to speculation that Margaret, who was possibly the primogeniture heiress to the then childless Henry VI, was considered a claimant to the crown.

This seems unlikely. By Suffolk’s critics claiming he was “pretending her to the next to inherit the crown”, Parliament was effectively rubbishing the notion that Margaret was close to the royal dignity. They were trying to present Suffolk as a grubby little upstart who would grasp at whatever straws were in reach.

And Suffolk was equally quick to dismiss Margaret’s claim. When defending himself he was clear that suggesting Margaret was next in line was “contrary to law and reason.”

Given Margaret’s own claim had been so publicly rejected less than a decade before, it would be very odd indeed if she held hopes for her newborn son. Especially as by this stage Henry VI had produced a boy of his own.

2. Margaret was loyal to Henry VI and his son. She didn’t consider her boy a rival to them.

We will never know Margaret’s inner feelings during the wars of the roses. But we can have a pretty good guess.

The Beaufort cause was intrinsically tied up with that of the house of Lancaster. They were close kin and the Beauforts had been the most stringent supporters of their mainline cousins. Margaret’s sympathies almost certainly lay with her Beaufort cousins and Lancastrian kin.

When Margaret did rise to power, as the mother of the King, she celebrated the memory of Henry VI and campaigned for him to be recognised as a saint. This might, in part, have been an attempt to emphasise her Lancastrian heritage and build credibility for the new Tudor regime. But it was more than that. Margaret had likely always been a great supporter of the pious King. She would have extended that loyalty to his son. Not seen her own boy as a rival.

Margaret always celebrated the memory of Henry VI

3. She campaigned for her son to be reconciled to the house of York, not an opponent to it

After the Lancastrian defeat of 1471, Margaret made her peace with Edward IV. He too was her cousin. And now undisputedly King of England. Margaret got closer to his court and seems to have achieved a degree of prominence. She quietly worked behind the scenes to see her son restored to his title and returned to England. It nearly worked. Had Edward not suddenly died in 1483, Henry would almost certainly have been restored to the title “Earl of Richmond” and welcomed home. Albeit without a major landed settlement.

If Margaret was secretly preparing the way for her son’s Kingship, she did a good job of hiding it.

There is not a shred of evidence that Margaret ever thought her son could be King of England until it was obvious that the Princes in the Tower were dead and that Richard III’s regime was unstable.

True, she would later claim that a vision from God prompted her to marry Edmund Tudor. This way of making sense of the world was more common then and no doubt Margaret did look back at her life and detect the hand of destiny in her family’s ultimate success. Everyone in the fifteenth century believed in the will of God.

Margaret didn’t want Kingship for her son. Why would she? In a “wars of the roses” world, being King was a risky business. It’s a myth that most nobleman secretly sought the job. What she wanted for her son, and for herself, was safety and prosperity. Unexpectedly in 1483, the crown suddenly became their best chance for both.

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New research reveals the true age of Catherine Howard, says Gareth Russell

Posted on March 31, 2021March 31, 2021 By Gareth - Editor

In recent years, historians have feared that Catherine Howard was just 15 years old when she married the aged Henry VIII. But according to the Tudor Queen’s most recent biographer, robust evidence places her year of birth earlier than has recently been assumed.

In 1527, Isabel Worsley left a modest bequest of 20 shillings to her young granddaughter, Catherine Howard. She could never have fathomed that this little gift would form the basis of an academic debate 500 years’ later.

Like all of Henry VIII’s English wives, the year of Catherine Howard’s birth is shrouded in mystery.

Baptismal records were not systematically kept. Though Catherine was born into a great family, she was firmly on its fringes. Few could have predicted that her date of birth would ever be a source of interest to future generations.

Mercifully, a handful of clues survive. In the will of John Leigh, Catherine’s step-grandfather, the future Queen is not mentioned. Scholars have traditionally dated this document to 1524. Yet, just three years later, Isabel’s will gave due mention to both Catherine and a little sister.

Many have assumed that Catherine must have made her debut between the drafting of these two documents. Given that she had to arrive with time to spare for a baby sister, 1525 leaps out as the most logical choice.

This conclusion matters. It makes Catherine just 15 when she married the 49-year-old Henry and became Queen of England. Phrases like “child bride” or “abusive marriage” may be anachronistic. But they would not be entirely inaccurate.

It’s a horrifying conclusion. But is it the right one?

According to historian Gareth Russell, Catherine’s most recent biographer, there is more to this debate than meets the eye.

“The idea that Catherine was born in 1525 is based on a misreading of her grandparents’ wills,” Gareth explains. “It’s an understandable mistake. But it is unambiguously a mistake.”

The ambassador’s reception

“The most compelling evidence for Catherine’s year of birth comes from Charles de Marillac, French ambassador to Henry VIII’s court. He knew Catherine well. They went on long hunting trips in the summers of 1540 and 1541. And he was paid to make these kinds of things his business.

“de Marillac reported that Catherine was 18 when she debuted at court at the tail end of 1539. While he may have been basing this on her appearance, four years is too big a mistake to make.

“Some argue that de Marillac had poor form when it came to age guessing. They point out that he estimated 24-year-old Anne of Cleves’s age at 30. But this is a misunderstanding. He doesn’t get Anne’s age wrong. He says that if you saw her, you would guess her age at 30, meaning that she looked older than she was. He’s making an unchivalrous comment, not – at least from a biographical point of view – an inaccurate one.

“There’s also a widely-held view that 14 was deemed an acceptable age to marry in Tudor England. But it’s a bit more nuanced than that. Many believed that a 14-year-old would struggle to bring a child to term. Given the primary role of a Queen was to bear heirs, if Henry had taken a wife as young as that, it would have been more widely remarked upon.

“Given this evidence, a birthdate of circa 1521/22 emerges as the most likely.”

A will-full misreading?

On the face of it, the case seems closed. But what about Catherine’s absence from John Leigh’s will of 1524? True, he was her step-grandfather rather than a blood relative. Yet, all Catherine’s Howard brothers prove worthy of a mention.

“When researching my biography of Catherine, I spent more time with these wills than an executor,” Gareth continues. “While John Leigh did add to his will in 1524, it was actually written a year earlier. “Girls were not excluded from Leigh’s will in general. But, if we accept a birthdate of 1521/22, Catherine would have been incredibly young. This probably explains her absence.”

In good company

Gareth’s research also revealed that, if Catherine had been born either significantly before, or significantly after 1522, that would put her at odds with the ages of the other young women who joined Anne of Cleves’s household in 1539.

“In as much as we can date the births of Catherine’s contemporaries when she debuted at court, they were all born in the early-to-mid 1520s. Some argue that Catherine was born before 1520, but this research rules that out. Similarly, a birthdate of 1525 seems a little too late.”

As a result of this extensive research, Gareth argues that 1521/22 is the most likely year of birth for Henry VIII’s fifth wife. This would make her about 18 when she debuted at court, 19 when she became Queen and 21 when she died.

“Ultimately, this is still very young,” Gareth concludes. “While it avoids the horror of the child bride scenario, it still left Catherine suspectable to make the sorts of mistakes we all make at 20 and 21. Mistakes which, even by the standards of the day, should not have warranted death.”

WATCH: the full Royal History Geeks interview with Gareth Russell

BUY: Gareth’s excellent biography of Catherine Howard, “Young, damned and fair”.

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6 myths about the wives of Henry VIII

Posted on February 19, 2021February 19, 2021 By Gareth - Editor

It’s been almost 500 years, and we’re still fascinated by Henry VIII and his six wives. It’s no great surprise. The tales of the women who enjoyed or endured marriage to the legendary Tudor King are saturated in romance, politics and drama. You couldn’t make up more compelling stories. Though many have tried.

Equally unsurprisingly, given the nature of human imagination, many myths about these royal matriarchs have entered the public consciousness. Some are plain wrong. Others are oversimplifications and half-truths.

Let’s take a look at just six of them.

1.When Prince Arthur died, Katherine of Aragon swore the marriage was unconsummated to avoid being sent back to Spain.

The myth

Katherine of Aragon committed to one clear destiny. To become Queen of England. Upon the death of Prince Arthur she feared this dream was about to shatter. To avoid being sent back to Spain, she swore that the marriage was unconsummated. It was only on this basis that the likes of Henry VII agreed to betroth her to Prince Henry, the future Henry VIII.

In reality…

There is no record of Katherine declaring that her first marriage was unconsummated until 1529. She stated it publicly during Henry VIII’s attempts to divorce her and it threw a curveball into proceedings.

She might have mentioned it privately beforehand. But during negotiations for a marriage between her and Prince Henry, it was assumed that the marriage had been consummated and papal dispensation was granted accordingly. It could be that no one asked her. Maybe she didn’t fully understand herself. After she eventually experienced the full consummation of a marriage in 1509, the truth may have dawned on her.

None of this means that Katherine was lying. If anything, her declaration in 1529 makes it more likely that she was telling the truth. Under a strict interpretation of church law, her admission could have gone against her. The dispensation assumed that consummation had taken place. Had it not, she really needed a different kind of dispensation, which covered the “public honesty” of her betrothal to Henry VIII’s brother. So, she risked invalidating the marriage on a technicality.

2. Anne Boleyn lured Henry VIII away from his marriage to Katherine and convinced him of the need to divorce

The myth

Anne Boleyn, perhaps with the help of her ambitious family, set out to capture the King’s heart. By holding out from becoming his mistress, she convinced the King to put Katherine aside and seek a divorce so that she, Anne, could be enthroned as Queen of England.

In reality…

We don’t know. It’s hard to date the beginnings of Henry’s interest in Anne, let alone be clear on the details. The courtship was partly conducted in writing but Anne’s letters don’t survive.

Anne did refuse to become his mistress. Ultimately, Henry overcame this barrier by asking Anne to be his wife. But there’s no evidence that this was part of a Boleyn master plan.

The great historian Eric Ives believes Henry had already decided to divorce Katherine ahead of falling for Anne. He was just expecting to put his first wife aside in favour of another foreign princess.

3.Jane Seymour’s family planted her in Henry’s path to bring about Anne Boleyn’s downfall

The myth

Learning lessons from Anne’s “capture of the King” the Seymour family groomed Jane to seduce him. She presented herself as the opposite of Anne in every way to mastermind the Queen’s downfall. The Seymours did this out of ambition and to further the cause of their family.

In reality…

Henry may have been easily led. But he wasn’t a puppet. Once his interest in Jane was clear, the conservative faction at court, led by the powerful Marquess and Marchioness of Exeter started to hatch a plan that would lead to Anne’s divorce and banishment in Jane’s favour.

Yes, her family saw the advantages and supported it. But they were not ideological soul mates with the conspirators. Jane’s brother Edward would become a champion of religious reform. Quite the opposite agenda to that being persuaded by the Exeters.

4.It was really Anne of Cleves that rejected Henry and she was only too happy to be free from him

The myth

Anne of Cleves was a young woman who was clearly horrified when she came face to face with the old, obese and increasingly decrepit Henry VIII. Her repulsion to him was so obvious, it prevented the marriage from being consummated. To save face, Henry vocalised his dislike of Anne and arranged for an annulment. Anne then lived out the rest of her days as a wealthy, independent woman. She revelled in her freedom.

In reality…

Anne probably wasn’t enamoured with the prospect of sleeping with Henry. And he was slighted by her initial, negative reaction to him when he came to her disguised as a servant. But Anne’s feelings toward Henry were not the determining factor.

Anne had been sent to England to marry its King and advocate for the cause of Cleves. Following Henry’s public rejection of her, she would have felt like a failure.

When Henry eventually married his final wife Katherine Parr, Anne felt slighted, declaring that she was much prettier than the King’s new bride. She always seemed hopeful that he would take her back.

5.Katheryn Howard was a child bride

The myth

Katheryn Howard was a girl of 15 when she married the King. She had no real choice in the matter and was used as a pawn by her powerful uncle, the Duke of Norfolk.

In reality…

Not really. In some accounts of the era, Katheryn’s age at marriage is confidently given as 15. This is based on her absence from her step-grandfather’s will which was written in 1522, suggesting she had not yet been born.

But most recent biographers of Katheryn think it more likely that she was 18/19 when she became Queen. This is based on comments by the French ambassador who knew her. By Tudor standards this was not young. Marriage, including quite possibly to a much older man, would have been expected of her. There is also no good evidence that Norfolk had anything to do with initiating the King’s interest in his niece.

6.Katherine Parr was more of a nursemaid than a wife to Henry VIII

The myth

Following the disaster of his marriage to the young Katheryn Howard, Henry sought out a woman to be more of a companion than a wife. Katherine Parr, as Lady Latimer, had experience of nursing her husband through his old age. She was the perfect choice to hold the King’s hand and mop his brow as life eeked out of him.

In reality…

This charming, but patronising image of Katherine emerged in the Victorian era. But it’s stuck. It’s certainly what I was taught at school in the 1990s.

Katherine took an interest in the health of her ailing husband. But as a woman of rank she would have been quite far from the nitty-gritty of nursing. Instead, she spent her time championing religious reform. She even ruled England while Henry was waging war was against France in 1544.

These are just six of the myths that circulate about Henry VIII and his infamous six wives. What other inaccuracies can you think of which have gained common currency?

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WATCH: Interview with Alison Weir, Tudor history sensation

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

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

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

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

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

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Did Henry VIII suffer from impotency?

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

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

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

But what evidence do we actually have to support it?

Henry experienced a number of health problems in later life

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

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

Anne Boleyn: cruel gossip or unsatisfied wife?

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

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

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

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

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

The Cleves catastrophe

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

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

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

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

The Duke of York that never appeared

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Lockdown must-reads #9: Anne Boleyn: Henry VIII’s obsession by Elizabeth Norton

Posted on June 1, 2020June 1, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

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

May. The month of Anne Boleyn. Her arrest, trial and execution happened in such swift succession that it’s possible to mark them all in a single month.

To remember Anne this May, I decided to read about her. Anne Boleyn: Henry VIII’s obsession was this year’s choice.

The book is the first of four biographies covering wives of Henry VIII. The author has stated that each was designed to be short. They provide an overview of their respective subject’s life. True to its word, the biography is easy to read and presents a clear picture of the extraordinary life of the second Henrican Queen.

Anne’s meteoric rise, turbulent reign and dramatic downfall are well known to Tudor fans. Norton’s book sets these events in the context of Anne’s early life. By exploring her upbringing and time on the continent, the reader gets a glimpse into how Anne’s early experiences shaped her character and approach. By the time she steps onto the stage of Henry’s court, she is more French than English.

Anne’s love affair with Henry has gone down in history. But it was not the only controversial match she embroiled herself in. Her attempt to wed Percy and potential love affair with Wyatt are given the attention they deserve.

The ‘King’s Great Matter’ – his attempt to divorce his first wife and be wed to Anne – is worthy of a book of its own. However, Norton successfully summarises the key events. She grants us an insight into the motivations of the central players.

Anne’s ultimately triumphs as Queen of England but her success is short-lived. Henry’s resumption of his mistresses and her failure to make the transition from mistress to submissive wife cause cracks to appear. Against this backdrop, her early failure to produce a male heir makes her vulnerable. Within three years of her marriage, Anne becomes ‘the lady in the tower.’

Historians from previous generations have treated Anne with disdain. Perhaps in reaction, the Boleyn Queen today enjoys a cult following on social media. But Norton’s book will not satisfy those with a partisan interest. She refused to paint Anne as either tragic romantic heroine or unreconstructed villain. The author is honest about Anne’s shortcomings. But she also helps us to understand where her viciousness came from.

Those new to Tudor history will find this biography an indispensable way to familiarise themselves with Anne’s story. Old-timers like me will value it as a useful refresher. It is thoroughly researched and easy to read.

Anne Boleyn was one of the most extraordinary women to walk the green and pleasant lands of England. Perhaps no write-up can truly do her justice. But in her honest, thorough and accessible work, the author has surely been faithful to Anne’s final request. Norton has meddled with Anne’s cause and she has judged the best.

Anne Boleyn: Henry VIII’s obsession by Elizabeth Norton is available from Amazon.

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

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What was the social standing of each of Henry’s brides?

Posted on May 28, 2020May 28, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

As a groom, Henry’s personal desirability decline dramatically during his life.

Katherine of Aragon happily married the most handsome prince in Europe. Katherine Parr reluctantly shared the bed of a morbidly obese tyrant.

But in truth, that hardly mattered. Throughout his reign, Henry’s principal offer to a bride never wavered. Marriage to him meant maximum promotion. The Queen was the first lady of the land. In Henrican England, a woman could rise no higher.

After marriage, each of Henry’s wives enjoyed the same exalted status. But their starting points differed wildly.

Henry’s wives different wildly in pedigree

How prestigious was the background of each of the six Tudor Queens? How would their status have been regarded by contemporaries? What would each of their marriage prospects have been had Henry failed to show an interest?

It’s a fascinating question. So, like all supercool people, I’ve conducted a little analysis. Here’s my stab at a pecking order.

1. Katherine of Aragon

Few could doubt that Henry’s first Queen should top the list. The daughter of the ‘Spanish Kings’ had a thoroughly royal pedigree and was related to many of Europe’s crowned heads. Through her great-grandmother, Catherine of Lancaster, she was even descended from England’s very own Edward III.

Katherine was always destined for a crown. Her parents successfully married off their many daughters to secure foreign alliances. In hindsight, it’s almost a tragedy that she didn’t end up elsewhere. She was certainly unlucky with both her English husbands.

2. Anne of Cleves

The heritage of Anne (or Anna) of Cleves is one I’d always failed to appreciate. I had casually dismissed her as the daughter of a minor German state. It wasn’t until I read the great biography by Elizabeth Norton that I realised how wrong I was. Anna’s genealogy included kings of France. She had connections to Burgundy. She was a descendent of Edward I of England.

Had Anne not come to England she would most likely have married within the Holy Roman Empire. A life as a German duchess could well have been on the cards. Through a union with Henry however, she achieved a crown. Even if only for a very brief period.

Anna of Cleves could claim descent from French and English Kings

3. Anne Boleyn

It is often said that the Boleyn’s had ‘come up’ only recently by the time Anne was one the scene. That’s partly true. But Anne was granddaughter of the duke of Norfolk. She also claimed noble heritage through her father’s side.

Three out of Anne’s four grandparents could claim to be from the nobility. Or at least, the very upper reaches of the gentry. Like all Henry’s wives, she could claim descent from Edward I.

Long before Henry ever seemed like a possibility, Anne looked set to make a great match. Her attempts to wed Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland were rebuffed. This, though, was not due to her heritage. The powerful Cardinal Wolsey intended her to marry her kinsman the Earl of Ormond to satisfy competing claims to the title. Percy certainly robustly protested that Anne was of good enough pedigree to become countess of Northumberland. It’s likely that, left to her own devises, she would have made a similar match.

Some speculate that Anne’s father, Thomas Boleyn was only raised to the peerage as Viscount Rochford and later Earl of Wiltshire because of his daughters’ ‘involvement’ with the king. In reality, his promotion to Viscount Rochford was almost certainly due to his heritage. The fact that Mary Boleyn may or may not have been the king’s mistress at this point is likely to be a coincidence.

Thomas might well have achieved an earldom even if Anne hadn’t caught the king’s eye. He did, to be frank, deserve compensation. Despite being (probably) the best candidate, he missed out on the earldom of Ormond.

4. Katheryn Howard

This list contains two controversial calls. The first is my decision to place Anne Boleyn ahead of her first-cousin Katheryn Howard.

Katheryn was a male-line descendent of the Duke of Norfolk. Her ancestry was impeccably noble and gentry on both sides. Anne was contaminated by a line which had so recently emerged from the merchant class. Katheryn was not. Through her mother’s line she could claim descent from some highly respectable baronial names. Clifford, Ferres and Beauchamp each get a name check on her family tree.

But how one’s social standing was perceived in Tudor England is difficult to judge. Particularly from this distance. As such, I’ve placed a great deal of emphasis on how likely each Queen would have been to ‘marry well’ before Henry was in the picture.

Anne was almost certainly destined for a coronet. Katheryn seemed more likely to make a modest match. Blood was important in the sixteenth century. But even then, blood wasn’t everything. Connections were powerful. The right people pushing you could make a difference.

A big part of Anne’s desirability might have been the money that Thomas Boleyn could offer as a dowry. Katheryn was from a mighty family. But her lowly position within it meant that she had little cash to bring to the table.

5. Katherine Parr

Henry’s last wife was of solidly knightly class. Her father was a significant landowner. She could claim descent from the mighty Nevilles – the family that had dominated the north in the 1400s. A descendant of Edward III through the Beaufort line, Katherine had a heritage to be proud of.

Henry VIII was Katherine’s third husband. She had already proven her worth on the marriage market. Her first marriage had been respectable. Her second, spectacular.

Katherine Parr was from a family on the fringes of the baronage

6. Jane Seymour

Jane may have been the Queen that lingered in Henry’s heart. But she was probably the humblest. I mentioned that this list contains two controversies. My decision to place Jane below Katherine Parr is the second. You could argue that there’s barely a sheet of tissue paper between them. Through her mother’s Wentworth line, Jane, like Katherine, could claim descent from Edward III.

Maybe it’s a tie. But to my eye the Parr family tree seems to more obviously resemble a family on the fringes of the baronage. As I said earlier, I’ve placed a lot of weight on the ‘pre-Henry’ marriage prospects of the ladies. Katherine was snapped up young and made two decent marriages. At 28, Jane was somewhat on the shelf. She seemed to be struggling to make a decent match.

Over to you geeks. What do you think? Have I been a bit harsh on Jane or Katheryn Howard? Are there important branches to the family tree I’m missing? I want to know what YOU think.

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WATCH: Was Anne of Cleves really that ugly?

Posted on May 17, 2020May 17, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

Henry VIII’s 4th wife has gone down in history as an ugly ‘Flanders mare.’ But is there really the evidence to back this up? Leave me a comment and let me know what you think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Hollow Crown – The Wars of the Roses and the Rise of the Tudors, is available from Amazon.

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

Lockdown must-reads #5: Six Wives, by David Starkey

Posted on May 4, 2020May 4, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

“Divorced, beheaded, died. Divorced, beheaded, survived.”

That’s about the sum of Tudor history I picked up at school. Against the backdrop of a blackboard, a cold classroom and an uninspired teacher, the history of England seemed about as exciting as a wet weekend in Brighton.

But years later I would learn the truth. That I was lucky enough to inhabit an island brimming with a history of drama that even fiction writers would be unable to fabricate. A big part of that realisation begun when, before a long train journey, I purchased a copy of the intrepid ‘Six Wives’ by David Starkey.

Starkey – as many will know – has an academic background. The book is dense with research. But there is not a dry paragraph in this 795-page epic. I have read three collective biographies of the six Tudor Queens. Starkey’s is the most readable. Combining wit and a touch of sass with well-formed sentences and colourful language, the book is as gripping as a thriller.

The early pages follow Katherine of Aragon as she sets sail for a new life in England and marriage to Arthur, Prince of Wales. It takes us through her destitute widowhood and her ultimate triumph upon marriage to the 18-year-old Henry VIII. We explores her active role in government and regency of England before her marriage is doomed by a failure to produce a son, a prickling of the King’s conscience and the rise of Anne Boleyn.

The King’s ‘great matter’ (the divorce of Katherine and marriage to Anne) dominates the next section of the book. Henry’s second Queen emerges as a wily and aggressive manipulator. But Starkey is not without sympathy. He is clear that she is not guilty of the crimes she loses her head for. And, unlike some historians, he is not prepared to let Henry off the hook.

Jane Seymour emerges. Jane Seymour gives birth. Jane Seymour dies. Anne of Cleves and Katherine Howard both give the reader an interesting interlude. The book concludes with Katherine Parr, the canny reformer who published books, kept her head and briefly ruled England.

Starkey has shown great wisdom in the tome’s structure. Implicitly he accepts that each Queen is not equal in significance. Jane Seymour’s legacy is essentially confined to one act of childbirth. Anne of Cleves and Katherine Howard are marginal in their impact. The intellectual Starkey holds a torch for blue stocking Katherine Parr. But it is Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn who shaped the character of Henry, his actions as king and the fate of the nation. Together they claim 73% of the book’s content.

Starkey is surely right to devote the bulk of the book to the first two Queen’s. But as a result, the rest of the reigns feel a little like a flash in the pan. But then, this is probably how they felt to contemporaries.

Because of the strong narrative, colourful language and modern colloquialisms, Starkey’s work has attracted criticism from other academics. No doubt some of it is valid – though we must be mindful of the presence of the green-eyed monster. But it is through writing in this accessible and compelling manner that Starkey and others have rescued the stories of Henry’s wives from the doldrums of the classroom. They have inspired documentaries, historical fiction and other popular biographies.

These women played their part in shaping our history. Thanks to books like ‘Six Wives’, a popular appreciation of their significance continues to grow.

Six Wives, the Queens of Henry VIII, is available from Amazon.

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

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