Alianore Audley

I just wanted to mention that a new paperback version of The Adventures of Alianore Audley is now available from Amazon, with a prettier cover and some improvements to the text.

A revised kindle version is to be had too, at a slightly lower price, and a hardback version should soon appear too! (For those who like their books to be reassuringly expensive.)

In case anyone is unfamiliar with Alianore I should stress this is a light-hearted book, not meant to be taken too seriously.

My Questions About Richard III.

1. If Richard was planning to seize the throne all along why did he a) start by getting everyone in Yorkshire to swear allegiance to Edward V and b) set off south with only a modest retinue of 300 men? Given that he was in a position to raise most of the north in arms, wouldn’t it have been a good idea to do just that?
2. If we accept that Richard did not initially plan to seize the throne what made him change his mind? A) An attempted ambush by the Woodvilles/Wydevilles? B) The realisation that he ‘couldn’t work’ with Edward V? C) The discovery of the precontract? D) Or did he just wake up one morning and think ‘**** it, I’ve not got any supporters down here but I’ll take the throne anyway!’
3. Why did Elizabeth Woodville run off into sanctuary, given that the Woodvilles were (supposedly) innocent of any wrong-doing? As a woman and a Queen, no one was going to kill her, and by staying out and standing her ground, could she not have made Richard’s work a lot more difficult to achieve?
4. Why did Richard only send for his supporters when things had already kicked off and when it was actually too late for them to get to London to help him? Was he really that bad a planner or is it more likely that he was taken by surprise by some development?
5. Why did Anthony Woodville send off for an exemplification of his powers to recruit troops in Wales just at this particular time? Did he think Owain Glyndwr had come back or had he some other purpose for raising armed men?

Richard of Gloucester as Lord of the North

For a long time I have wanted to write a post about Richard of Gloucester and his remarkable career in the North. However, it has been a task I have put off as too daunting. Now I find I am saved the trouble, by this long but rather wonderful post in another place.

Richard was a man who was willing to give verdicts against his own followers when justice demanded it. There may have been another late medieval English noble who was equally enlightened in this respect, but if there was I have not so far come across him. Certainly, such individuals were a rare breed.

Bosworth

This is yet another memorial of Bosworth, when we remember before God the loyal men who died there, and especially King Richard III.

Rest in Peace.

Edward, The Black Prince

I came across a conversation today where people were regretting the early death of the Black Prince, because apparently everything would have been much better had he lived.

Unfortunately, even people interested in English history tend not to appreciate that at the end of Edward III's reign England was 1. losing the war with France (badly) and 2. almost bankrupt.

So unless the Black Prince was secretly a magician who could conjure gold out of the air - paper currency being a thing as yet unknown - he would have struggled with the same issues Richard II and his Council faced - that is, how to raise money without upsetting the easily-upset English taxpayer. And if you look at Edward's track record with his taxpayers in Gascony, it would probably not have been pretty.

A rather similar conversation can be had around Henry V. It is true that at his death the English military position had not collapsed (as it had in 1377) but the problems with money had already started. Parliament was not for splashing out. Not even for Henry V. Poor old Henry VI never had a chance - arguably his followers did extremely well to hold on to as much as France as they did for as long as they did.

If I am going to regret anyone's early death it would be Edward IV's. Had he lived another ten years Richard of Gloucester could have continued happily in Yorkshire, Henry Tudor would be a mere footnote in history, and a whole lot of sorrow would have been avoided.

What was Stillington's motive?

Although Commines is the principal source for Robert Stillington being the clergyman who informed Richard of the alleged marriage between Edward IV and Lady Eleanor Talbot, the treatment of the bishop after the accession of Henry VII does appear to support the idea that he was the man involved. Indeed it appears that the Lords wished to (at least) examine the bishop, but that Henry protected him from such an inquisition.

On the assumption that Stillington was the person responsible, what was his motive? This was a man already in his 60s, who had in our terms settled into a comfortable retirement. He had held high office under Edward IV, notably as Lord Chancellor from 1467-1473 (with a gap during the restoration of Henry VI.) Given the nature of the job, it seems reasonable to assume that he was a senior administrator of considerable ability.

Now of course Edward sacked him in 1473, and later, following the fall of Clarence, the bishop spent a short time in prison, apparently for speaking out of turn. Neither experience was unique, and neither seems to justify a burning desire for revenge. It's not as if the bishop spent the rest of his life on Job Seekers Allowance. He had, for a start, the very substantial revenues of the See of Bath and Wells, the equivalent of which today would be a very handsome pension pot indeed.

So did Stillington look for any reward? If so, he must have been sorely disappointed. There is no evidence that Richard III did anything to advance him. He certainly did not appoint him to high office or translate him to a better see. Nor was he in any sense part of Richard's affinity.

So are we really to believe that the bishop woke up one morning, and thought up a secret marriage for Edward IV, just for the hell of it? It was a risky thing to do, surely. Why should he be believed? What were the likely consequences if he were not believed? He risked, at the minimum, another spell in the Tower. Indeed, would he have dared to come forward with nothing more than his unsupported word? Say for the sake of argument it was pure invention. Would he not at least have had to 'square' the remaining members of the Talbot family, to be sure that his statement would not be met with universal contradiction? If he had been disbelieved, his future under Edward V would have been very far from rosy!

On balance, the easiest explanation seems to be that he genuinely had something on his conscience. Moreover, it seems likely he had some form of proof. We know that proofs of some kind were offered, even if we have no idea what the 'proofs' were. If you think the contrary, you must surely ask yourself what kind of man this Stillington was, and what was his motive. I think you would have to conclude that he was very odd indeed, malicious and exceptionally vengeful.

(Reblogged from Murrey and Blue)

A mystery from 1468

(reblogged from Murrey and Blue)

Lady Eleanor Butler (born Talbot) probably knew that she was dying. In the early months of 1468, she transferred the lands that were hers to transfer to her sister, Elizabeth, Duchess of Norfolk. Where these lands came from is something of a mystery. John Ashdown-Hill has demonstrated that they were not dower lands, could not have been inherited, and were almost certainly not bought by Lady Eleanor, as she lacked the resources. The most probable origin of this mysterious land is that it was a gift from Edward IV. As King Edward was not in the habit of gifting land to random females this is suggestive of a connection between them. Of course, some people have pointed out that the land was not particularly valuable. Oh, well that makes it OK then! The point is that land -  even small amounts of it - was not just handed out for no reason. No one has satisfactorily explained where the land came from if it did not come from the King.

Anyway, no sooner was this sorted than King Edward appointed Duchess Elizabeth to go to Burgundy with his sister, Margaret of York, on the occasion of the latter's wedding. This involved the Duchess being in charge of the whole female side of things - no mean responsibility when around one hundred women and girls were attached to Margaret's train. The reason for Elizabeth's selection was probably that she was the most senior English lady who was not either a member of the royal house or a Woodville, or both. It may also have been intended as a mark of favour to her husband, John Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, who, although apparently not the sharpest knife in the drawer by a long way, was at least a loyal Yorkist.

So off they popped to sunny Burgundy, to the celebration and pageantry that John Paston felt there were no words to describe. Elizabeth's brother, Sir Humphrey Talbot, went with her. The unfortunate Eleanor was left behind in Norfolk to die without any of her birth family around her, although one would like to think that Norfolk himself visited with the occasional bunch of flowers. She was buried in the house of the White Carmelites at Norwich.

Elizabeth had scarcely set foot back in England (round about July 1468) when two of her servants John Poynings and Richard Alford, were charged with having treasonable dealings with the agents of the Lancastrians in Kouer-La-Petite. Brought to trial, they were found guilty and were hanged, drawn and quartered.

Now, as I mentioned above, Elizabeth's husband, Norfolk, was a loyal Yorkist. So why should his servants have been suspected of intrigue with the Lancastrians? It makes no obvious sense. Elizabeth herself - though one of the most charming individuals to appear in the Paston Letters - was in no position to do anything of significance for the Lancastrian cause even if she was that way inclined. She did not control her husband's retainers, or his castles, or anything helpful.

One of the Lancastrian exiles present in Flanders was, however, Somerset, Elizabeth's first cousin, and brother to her good friend Lady Anne Paston. It is possible that she sought to pass on family news to him - but if this is the explanation, the treatment of her servants was extremely severe.

So was this a shot across the bows, to warn Elizabeth to keep her mouth shut about - certain matters? Who knows. 

What can be said is that on 8 December 1468 the Duchess took out a pardon for all offences before 7 December. It is quite unusual for a married woman to take out a pardon without the inclusion of her husband. In civil matters she had no separate legal standing, she was under coverture. It may simply have been an insurance for any errors or omissions committed while serving in the office of Margaret's Principal Lady-in-Waiting. There was, after all, potentially a lot to go wrong, jewels to go missing, whatever. But it could also indicate something more sinister.

On 28 January 1469, the Duchess' brother, Sir Humphrey Talbot also received a general pardon.

It looks to me as if in the autumn/early winter of 1468, Elizabeth and Humphrey were under royal suspicion for something. The question is, was it something they did, or something they knew?

Just to add - it was no light thing for the King to execute the followers of a nobleman. It cast doubts on the noble's loyalty, and suggested he was not able to protect his own. Compare Clarence's reaction to Edward's attack on his followers. But Norfolk was a loyal Yorkist. There is no suggestion that he at any time was conspiring against Edward.

Richard of Conisbrough, Earl of Cambridge

I have noticed that the Wiki Page for young Richard has been expanded considerably and now includes reference to his possible illegitimacy. It even provides us with an image of him, and to be honest I don't recall having seen it before, though I may have done somewhere.

What the article fails to mention is the seminal work of T.B. Pugh in Henry V and The Southampton Plot, which is unfortunate because I am 95% certain that Pugh was the first reputable historian to draw attention to the matter and suggest Richard was not born until 1385, or thereabouts. It also fails to mention that Shirley, the 15th century collector of poems and servant of various nobles, the man who first linked this supposed affair to Chaucer's poem, had known links to Isabel Countess of Essex (Cambridge's daughter) and Isabelle, Countess of Warwick (Cambridge's niece.) These ladies were in a position to know their family gossip - whether they shared it with Shirley and told him it was 100% kosher we shall never know.

Frankly I should prefer to think that Edward IV and Richard III were descendants of Edmund of Langley - but we can at least be reasonably sure that they were descended from Lionel of Clarence, which is the key thing from the point of view of the succession.

Maybe it's me, but...

The discovery of Richard's body (if it is him) seems also to have dug up all the old, fruitless arguments between his 'supporters' and his 'detractors' - for want of better labels. Maybe it's because I'm so long in the game, but the exercise seems increasingly pointless. For every argument there is a counter-argument, and neither side is going to change its collective mind. I can think of parallels, but I've no wish to be offensive so I'll spare you the comparison. I just get weary of reading the same old stuff on every Ricardian and Wars of the Roses Forum I've subscribed to. Because of this, I've pretty much given up joining in.

Richard III - Found?

Well, we have to wait for the DNA tests for conclusive proof, but I doubt whether the comments made at the Press Conference would have gone so far if there was very much room to doubt that it is him.

I have no doubt that this will spark a whole new wave of interest in Richard III, and doubtless a whole catalogue of new books, both fact and fiction, from both the Richard-haters and the Richard-defenders.

Some people have gone so far as to suggest a state funeral. I think this would be OTT and plain wrong. For one thing, the country is broke. Far too much money has already been spent this year on fripperies at a time when essential services are being cut.

For another, at a state funeral all the best places would go to so-called VIPs. I suspect the number of 'VIPs' who care a fig for Richard can be counted on the fingers of one severely war-damaged hand. No, the occasion should be for his friends and supporters, not least the members of the Richard III Society and the other societies with an interest. For the people who actually care.

On historical matters, let me mention that for many years it was established 'tradition' that Richard's bones had been thrown into the River Soar. That is now almost certainly proved to be bunkum. In addition, despite at least one ignorant newspaper report to the contrary, it seems he was not a hunchback. (Many of us us suspected so all along, but the legend persisted.) The point is folks - there are other 'traditions' that may in time be proved to be a load of old tripe.

The Pilkingtons of Pilkington

This post was originally published on the English Historical Fiction Authors' Blog. However it is relevant to The Yorkist Age so I have reproduced it here for the benefit of anyone who hasn't already seen it.

'Pilkington' as a place name no longer exists, but it was formerly a part of what is now the Metropolitan Borough of Bury in Greater Manchester (Or Lancashire if you are a traditionalist) and included a very large park for the hunting of game. The manor house was at a place called Stand, the highest part of the lordship. It is said that the name 'Stand' originated from the one-time existence of a stand from which the ladies of the family could watch their menfolk as they chased deer around the park that spread out to the south. The Pilkingtons of Pilkington were the senior branch of their name, and had acquired considerable lands in Lancashire, where they were long established, and elsewhere in England. (There was, as usual in such families, a distinct tendency to marry heiresses, and much property was added by this method.) In the fifteenth century Sir Thomas Pilkington even obtained permission to build a small castle in the town of Bury, four or five miles to the north of Pilkington. Scanty remains of this structure survive, following excavation works some years ago.

Sir Thomas, who was born about 1425, was high in the favour of King Edward IV and was High Sheriff of Lancashire on no less than fourteen occasions between 1463 and 1484. He was created a Knight Banneret at the siege of Berwick in 1482.  In 1467 he was granted the right to hold two fairs and a market at Bury, and in 1483 received an annuity of 100 marks (66 and two thirds pounds) out of the revenues of Lancashire.

Unlike many other Yorkists, Sir Thomas transferred his allegiance seamlessly to Richard III. Sir Thomas was of course a northerner, and it is safe to assume that he knew Richard (as Duke of Gloucester) far more intimately than did most of the gentlemen of southern England.

Sources vary as to whether Sir Thomas fought at Bosworth or was merely on his way to the battlefield, but he was certainly treated as if he had fought, and he was attainted by Henry VII and forfeited almost all his very substantial lands. Those in Lancashire were given to Thomas Stanley (now Earl of Derby) Henry Tudor's stepfather, and were never recovered. Some of the other lands which Sir Thomas had thoughtfully transferred to his son some years before were retained in the family, though in one case at least the manor was improperly seized and King Henry had to be persuaded to give it back.

Sir Thomas remained Yorkist in sympathy, and fought at the Battle of Stoke (1487) on the side of Lambert Simnel (whoever he was). He was perhaps lucky to survive what was a very bloody battle, but the cost this time was his lands in the Midlands, an inheritance from his grandmother, Margaret Verdon, in some of which he had only a lifetime interest.

Little is known about Sir Thomas after this time. If he was not actually in prison he probably lived with his son, Roger Pilkington of Clipstone Notts. and Bressingham, Norfolk. However he certainly survived, for in August 1508 Henry VII granted him a pardon, absolving him of all offences, but not restoring his lands.

Sir Thomas died about 1509, to be succeeded by his son, Roger. However when Roger died in 1525 the senior line of the Pilkingtons died with him in the male line, the remaining lands being divided between Roger's daughters.

Other branches of the Pilkington family survived, including the one that founded the famous glass making firm. It's interesting to note that in the grounds of what was the Stanley's principal home, Lathom House, destroyed in the Civil War, the present day Pilkington concern has a laboratory complex.

The main home of the Pilkingtons (known locally as Stand Old Hall) remained in place, albeit derelict and partially demolished, until relatively recent times. It is now completely demolished, and all that remains are a few pieces of timberwork that are displayed above the bookshelves of Whitefield Library.

The main source for this article was History of the Pilkington Family by Lt. Col. John Pilkington. (1912)

Take a look at the Old Man and Scythe Pub in Bolton. Relevant? Because the Man and Scythe was the cognizance of the Pilkingtons and may be found illustrated here. James, Earl of Derby spent his last night on earth here before being executed for his part in the Bolton Massacre. The Pilkingtons perhaps had a last laugh at the expense of the Stanleys...

The Character of Edward IV

I don't feel like writing about anything deep today, so I thought I'd write something about the character of King Edward IV. An interesting topic, in my opinion.

I find Edward hard to pigeon-hole, as he was certainly a complex and multi-layered individual. So let's examine a few aspects.

Edward as warrior. Arguably, he was one of England's greatest warrior kings. Certainly he never lost a battle, although this may be partly because, as Alianore Audley remarked, he always knew when to run away. Seriously though, folks, that is not a bad quality in a general. It takes intelligence and a certain humility to judge when a withdrawal makes sense. Richard III might have benefited from a similar view of life at Bosworth,as indeed might Lee at Gettysburg, to name two obvious examples of commanders who might have been better advised to fight another day.

Of course, Edward was never tested against a foreign enemy, and on the one occasion he met the French army he chose to make peace. But see above. I suspect Edward made peace because he judged a battle was likely to be lost. He was no mug.

There is a view in some circles that a man can only be judged a great general if he has battered foreigners. This would rule out both Edward and Oliver Cromwell (unless you count the Irish)and leave (probably) Marlborough as the greatest English general of all time. I am not convinced - I think Edward is up there. He fought a whole lot of battles and never lost once. That has to be down to more than luck. He's certainly entitled to be spoken of in the same breath as the above-mentioned Cromwell and Marlborough plus Fairfax, Edward I and Henry V (spit). And, to be very blunt, his track record exceeds Richard III's as the sun does the moon.

Edward as politician. We need to remind ourselves that he came to the throne at 18. What were you like at 18?* It's probably true to say 'lacking in mature judgement'. Edward was probably too lenient in his dealings with certain individuals early in his reign - I'm looking at you, Henry Somerset - but this was surely a benign fault. Better to be overly merciful than a blood-stained tyrant. He learned and became somewhat less forgiving of opponents in later life. By 1471, if you had showed yourself to be an implacable opponent, he was likely to have your head. However, he could still be accommodating to former Lancastrians (Morton for example) and many of his attempts at conciliation bore fruit. People like the Woodvilles/Wydevilles and Lord Audley are good examples of former enemies Edward converted to faithful supporters.

*If 18 or below please ignore this question.

Edward could be ruthless when he needed to be, particularly in the second part of his reign. Executing your own brother is pretty ruthless by any standards. He was also rather careless of the rules of inheritance, and grabbed lands for his family by quite blatant abuse of his power as king. This did not come back to haunt him, but it was undoubtedly a factor in creating the aristocratic discontent that smoothed Richard III's path to to the throne.

It's a neat question whether Edward could have handled Warwick and the Nevilles better. They were family, and they had more or less put him on the throne. His quarrel with them could easily have led to his deposition and death. On the other hand, if he had cut them much more slack he could easily have ended up as nothing more than Warwick's puppet. The conflict had to be resolved somehow, and there were undoubtedly faults on both sides. A greater king might have found a way to conciliate the Nevilles while retaining his own authority, but it would have been a big ask.

His foreign policy fell to pieces in the latter days of his reign. This was largely due to his failure to support Burgundy in its hour of crisis (because of the fat French pension he was receiving) but when considering this you should bear in mind that Burgundy had proved a somewhat inadequate ally (to put it mildly) while Louis XI - a truly brilliant mind and a great ruler - had built France into a power that England was simply not equipped to defeat in either war or diplomacy. An alternative foreign policy, based on aggression towards France, might well have led to even worse disasters.

Edward as a person  My impression of Richard, Duke of York, is that (however arrogant and pig-headed he may have been) he was genuinely interested in good government and reform. My impression of his eldest son is that he didn't give a rat's about such things and was much more interested in having a good time while acquiring as much land and money for himself as possible.

Edward undoubtedly liked women, though I think some of his exploits may have been exaggerated. In particular, he had a liking for handsome widows somewhat older than himself. His decision to marry Elizabeth Woodville/Wydeville/Whatever may be romantic in some eyes, but politically it was a crowning folly, irrespective of whether or not he was previously married to Eleanor Talbot/Butler/Botiller. To be blunt, it was irresponsible and almost cost him his throne. It alienated key members of his family (including, almost certainly, his own mother) and ultimately led to the downfall of the House of York.

Bosworth Sunday

Most people will be aware that today, 22 August, is the Anniversary of Bosworth Field - or whatever it should be called given its relocation - where King Richard III met his end. Let us remember the brave of both sides.

I shall leave my analysis of the battle for a (much) later post.

Children of Richard Duke of York

After so much about the political, I think it's high time for a post of the personal, so here are the children of Richard Duke of York and his wife Cecily Neville:

1. Anne, who married the Duke of Exeter. Exeter was York's ward but nevertheless a substantial dowry was paid. Nonetheless the marriage was not a success at either a political or personal level. Exeter became one of York's worst enemies (though he was pretty much the enemy of everyone) and eventually Anne divorced him and married Sir Thomas St.Leger. Exeter conveniently fell overboard on the way back from the French expedition of 1475, having spent several previous years in the Tower. Sir Thomas St. Leger was executed by Richard III.

2. Henry (died young).

3. Edward, Earl of March (later Edward IV).

4. Edmund, Earl of Rutland. Killed at Wakefield 1460.

5. Elizabeth, who married John de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk. This marriage forged an alliance with the de la Pole clan, previously enemies of York. Suffolk was a political nonentity but there were numerous children. The males in particular had a hard time under the Tudors and were eventually wiped out.

6. Margaret, who married Charles Duke of Burgundy. No children, but Duchess Margaret was a relatively major player in European politics.

7. William (died young)

8. John (died young)

9. George, Duke of Clarence. Executed/judicially murdered 1478.

10. Thomas (died young)

11. Richard, Duke of Gloucester (later Richard III).

12. Ursula (died young.)

One interesting and unexplained feature of the Yorks' marriage is the several years** that passed before Anne was born. Clearly the problem was not one of fertility as they eventually had 12 children! It may be that York's absence at the French wars is part of the answer but it's not a complete one as Cecily was often there with him. (For example Edward and Edmund were born in Normandy.)

** Marriage 'before October 1429' (source P A Johnson) Anne's birth 1439.

One internet source states there was another daughter Joan b 1438, but this child is not recorded in the famous ballad about York's offspring printed in Caroline Halstead's Richard III.

The Wiki article on Cecily Neville says that the couple were not 'officially married' (whatever that means) until 1437. I'm inclined to doubt this.

Eleanor The Secret Queen, by John Ashdown-Hill

As a great fan of John Ashdown-Hill's series of articles on and around the subject of Eleanor Talbot that have appeared in sundry Ricardians over the past few years I have been looking forward to reading this book with huge anticipation. However, I may have expected a little too much, as there's not much here that was not covered in the said articles.

This is absolutely not to downplay Ashdown-Hill's scholarship in putting this work together, for that has been formidable, and it is extremely useful to have all the information about Eleanor collected in one place. She has been badly neglected by historians, and those that have deigned to write about her have made fundamental mistakes, one even claiming that she was not a daughter of the Earl of Shrewsbury!

Sadly, the bottom line is that it is impossible to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that an irregular marriage took place between Eleanor and Edward IV. (This is not to say that it did not, just that it can't be proved.) Geoffrey Richardson used to say that in matters surrounding Richard III one had to sometimes take 'a leap of faith.' I rather think John Ashdown-Hill has taken such a leap. I happen to agree with his conclusion, but it has to be said that the case is not rock solid.

To balance this, the case for the marriage has often been far too lightly dismissed. If Gairdner, the formidable Victorian historian - no friend of Richard III! - felt there was reasonable evidence of the truth of the story, then I feel we should at least accept the possibility that it happened that way. One very interesting point raised by Ashdown-Hill is that had Edward IV married Elizabeth Woodville in a regular ceremony - which of course he did not - then the onus would have been on Eleanor to protest at the church in time-honoured fashion. Her failure to do so would have put her and Edward at fault, not Elizabeth, and Elizabeth's children would have been deemed legitimate. (As an aside, they would also have been entitled to inherit land under English law.)

So it sort of begs the question doesn't it? Why the hell did Edward marry Elizabeth in an irregular ceremony? What on earth did he think he was doing? Surely he was not that afraid of Warwick, was he?

If you want to know more about Lady Eleanor Talbot this account cannot be bettered, as it contains everything that is known about her. It also poses some interesting questions - such as how Eleanor came by certain lands that can only have been given her by Edward IV. However, if you are a determined cynic about her marriage to the King, the book will probably not be enough to budge you, though it may give you some food for thought.

The book itself, by the way, is beautifully produced and on the back cover is an artist's impression of Eleanor. Apparently this was partly based on a skull discovered in Norwich which may be hers - or equally may not be.

Richard's Portuguese Marriage

Wow, that certainly provoked some debate!

I have looked at Barrie Williams' follow-up article today, and it suggests that the detail of Brampton's instructions is not known. (Though there may be subsequent scholarship of which I am unaware.) Apparently his information rests chiefly on Portuguese sources.

Susan is right about the general use of women as pawns in marriage; however in this particular case Joanna was mad keen to be a nun and had actually turned down no less than Maximilian of Austria (future Emperor!) and the Duke of Orleans (effective heir to France after Charles VIII). As these two were arguably as important as Richard, it's at least interesting that Richard was accepted, and maybe even more surprising if the initiative came from the Portuguese side. Apparently Joanna accepted on the basis that if the proposal fell through she would be allowed to take up religion, and so it transpired. This does not prove in itself that Richard was a saint - this was part of international diplomacy after all - but it does give food for thought.

Apparently the 'alternative option' under consideration was the eldest daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. From Richard's point of view an attractive aspect of either woman was that she had a Lancastrian claim to the throne, arguably more legitimate than that of Henry Tudor - certainly it would have been a senior claim by 21st century calculation of these things. Richard had some very positive diplomatic contact with Isabella right at the start of his reign, so it might have been another possibility.

Thomas More by Richard Marius

I've been re-reading Thomas More by Richard Marius, and found this interesting passage on page 99. '...More's account is only one of several (my emphasis) written about Richard III by Richard's contemporaries, (again, my emphasis) and none of them is flattering to the usurper king***. Some of these histories were - like More's own - left in manuscript and published long after the writers died. They can hardly be interpreted as self-conscious efforts to flatter the Tudors.'

*** - Why bring Henry VII into this? Oh, sorry, it's author bias, silly me.

This set me thinking, because the only 'accounts' I can think of that might class as contemporary are More, Croyland and Mancini. (Alianore Audley is actually fictional you know, although probably as close to the truth as any of them.) Scarcely several. Hmmm? What accounts have I been missing all these years?

Let's do a bit of deconstruction. (I love a bit of deconstruction with my morning tea.)

First off, More wasn't even born until 1478. He was, roughly, a contemporary of Richard III like I am a contemporary of JFK! He obviously relied on sources. It's generally assumed the work was virtually dictated by Morton, in whose household More lived as a youth. But there's no real evidence for this, just assumption. Morton was Cardinal Archbishop and Chancellor. Would he have had the time, let alone the inclination, to provide some boy in his household with the full SP on Richard III? Anyway, Morton's opinion on Richard - it'd be like asking Hitler for his views on Winston Churchill. (Or vice versa if you like.)

Of course More could have asked other people, but how many of them would be well informed? The old Duke of Norfolk perhaps, the Surrey of Bosworth? Again, would such an important noble have had time to spare for a young lawyer wanting to talk about the past? What could he have said anyway? 'Well, Mr More, I'm glad you asked that, because Richard III was the best king we ever had, and Henry Tudor was a slimy hypocrite with as much right to the English throne as the Grand Cham of Tartary.' The guy spent 1485-1513 just trying to win his dukedom back! He would be guarded in what he said, as would any other surviving Yorkist with half a brain.

Now Croyland, probably the best source we have. Set aside the author's paranoid hatred of anyone from north of Peterborough for a moment. He is generally assumed to have been a well-informed royal clerk - though historians debate about exactly who he was.

But this 'well-informed royal clerk' says nothing about the proposed marriage of Richard III to Joanna of Portugal and the related marriage of Elizabeth of York to the Duke of Beja. Instead he rattles on about the silly fable that Richard planned to marry Elizabeth. Folks, he simply can't have done as the Portuguese marriage proposals were issued within nine days of Anne's death. So either the Chronicler didn't know about the intended Portuguese marriages (in which case he was not a 'well-informed royal clerk' at least as far as Richard's reign is concerned) or he deliberately suppressed evidence that didn't suit his anti-Richard bias (in which case he is not reliable as a witness.)

As for Mancini, he didn't even speak English. He was here for a short visit and presumably picked up what gossip he could understand from people able (and bothered) to speak to him in Latin or French. It's rather like me visiting Russia for a few months and writing an article on President Putin. Except I would have access to a whole range of English language sources through the internet and other media, and at a pinch I could e-mail Mr Putin and ask for his comments on my account. Mancini could not do these things! (Pity, because Richard's e-mail response would have been fascinating.)

Of course, I have forgotten the following contemporary sources! :

Richard III, My Part in his Downfall, Sir William Stanley.

How I stole Richard III's Virginity and Broke His Bed, Jane Shore.

My Saintly Son, and how Richard III Drowned Puppies, Blessed Margaret Beaufort.

How the Lancastrians Were Always The Rightful Kings Anyway (with an account of the holy life of Henry VI, and how I was forced to serve the evil Edward IV) , Cardinal Morton.

Any Road for Twopence, Rt Hon. Thomas, Earl of Derby.

Richard II Facebook Group

For anyone genuinely interested in Richard the Second (and his times) I have started a Facebook Group for him called the Fellowship of the White Hart. Membership is open to anyone at this time, but I may make it a closed group later if it gets busy or rowdy!

There's also a Group for Richard III, but although I'm a member it's otherwise nothing to do with me. But fun to join if you're interested.

Richard III and York

The latest edition of The National Trust Magazine contains an article about York - unfortunately it's marred by the following statement:-

'Richard III's bloody antics have been recounted by Shakespeare, as well as in the mocking nursery rhyme 'The Grand Old Duke of York'. Some say that the wicked king's body now lies under a city car park.'

OK, where do I start?

For the nth time, Shakespeare was a dramatist, not a historian. If you're going to quote fiction about Richard, why not the Sunne in Splendor? Or Alianore Audley?

That nursery rhyme was about an 18th Century Duke of York, son of one of the Georges. A clue to it not relating to Richard III is that Richard was never Duke of York.

Richard was not an outstandingly wicked king by medieval standards. Far from it. If there was one place he was positively loved it was York.

His body may lie under a car park, but if it does it's in Leicester, not York.

Makes me wonder why the Richard III Society bothers... (Mutter, mutter.)

Parkin Windbreak...

...as Alianore Audley called him.

Yes, I know I messing up the orderly progression through the 15th Century by mentioning the fellow, but then again, I never promised that this Blog would be orderly, did I? Fact is I've been re-reading Anne Wroe's marvellous book, Perkin and I'd love to be able to say, 'Truly, this man was the Duke of York' or even, as second-best, 'Truly, this man was not the Duke of York.' But I can't honestly do either. I haven't a clue who he was, and frankly, I don't think Henry VII did either.

One thing that is clear though is that Sir William Stanley and John Ratcliffe, Lord Fitzwalter, believed it was possible 'Perkin' was Edward IV's son. Now these men were no fools or hot-headed youths, and certainly they had not been supporters of Richard III. Nor were they 'outs' in a political sense - Stanley for example, was Henry VII's Lord Chamberlain. They had a lot to lose, and they lost it all, by gambling on the chance that Richard Duke of York was alive and capable of toppling the government.

Another thing that occurs to me is that 'Perkin', if not York, must have been one hell of an actor. Even in these days it wouldn't be easy for a working class foreigner to pass convincingly as a British royal. In the 15th Century it would have been many multiples of times harder. I think at a minimum 'Perkin' must have been brought up in or around a court. As for the allegation he was 'forcibly' taught English while a stranger in Ireland - well, LOL is all I can say. I was 'forcibly' taught French at school, but I doubt anyone would mistake me for a French aristo.

A fascinating mystery...