The scene above is fictitious, with roses being brandished nobly, but the strife known to posterity as The Wars of the Roses was full of treachery. Turncoats abounded, loyalty could be non-existent, and men’s names dragged down. Not always dragged down, of course, because if the traitor defected to the ultimately winning side, he did very nicely, thank you very much.
The Battle of Northampton, 10th July 1460, for instance, was won by the Yorkists because the Lancastrians were betrayed by the commander of their own vanguard, Edmund Grey, Lord Grey of Ruthin. It was a prearranged plan, with the Earl of Warwick’s Yorkists told not to attack anyone in Grey’s colours. Grey’s reward was to be made Earl of Kent.
But five months later, on 30th December that same year, was fought the Battle of Wakefield, at which the tables were turned and York lost to Lancaster, in the process forfeiting the lives of the Duke of York himself, his prominent supporter the Earl of Salisbury, and York’s 17-year-old second son, Edmund, Earl of Rutland.
York was trapped at Sandal Castle near Wakefield, with (it is estimated) round 5,000 men compared with the (equally estimated) 20,000 of the Lancastrians. Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury (not his namesake, the Earl of Warwick) was at York’s side throughout. The Nevilles were one of the great families in the north, but were divided because Salisbury’s cadet branch had risen above the senior branch, which was led by his great-nephew, the Earl of Westmorland. Westmorland was ill, and his younger brother, John Neville of Raby, had a great deal to gain by the destruction of both York and Salisbury.
The Percys were another great northern family, who, resentful of the jumped-up Nevilles, opposed York and Salisbury. John Neville of Raby was soon colluding with the Percys and other Lancastrians. A plot was hatched by the northern veteran Andrew Trollope to fool the Duke of York into coming out to join battle, when he should have stayed safely in Sandal Castle, waiting for the help that was on its way from his son and heir, Edward, Earl of March, the future Edward IV, and from the Earl of Warwick.
Trollope had been a Yorkist, but changed sides after feeding York with false information about the strength of the Lancastrians. Then, after concealing most of the Lancastrian army in the woods surrounding the intended battlefield in front of the castle, Trollope marched a much smaller contingent into the open to challenge York and deceive him into thinking the opposition was much smaller than it really was.
It would also seem that the scheming John Neville of Raby further fooled York with false colours, so that he thought some Yorkist reinforcements had arrived from Warwick. Another version is that Neville pretended he would raise men for York, but raised them for Lancaster instead. Either way he was a lying turncoat. And all this went on while a Christmas truce was in force! Not very honourable or chivalrous.
Oh, sneaky, sneaky Lancastrian traitors, yet York appears to have had faith in these men. Certainly it is thought he believed that if he gave battle, a large portion of the Lancastrian army would come over to his side. He was strongly advised to stay in the castle and just wait for his son Edward and real allies to arrive to save him, but something convinced him to march out and not only be confronted by the Lancastrians he could see, but surrounded too by the greater numbers hidden in the woods. Was he incredibly brave and sure of his cause? Or deluded and a complete fool? As we do not know what was in his mind, we will probably never know. All we do know is that he was betrayed by so-called friends.
The battle was short. York, Salisbury and young Edmund were all slain and beheaded, and their heads displayed ignominiously on Micklegate Bar in York. York’s head was ridiculed with a paper crown, and a notice: York overlooks the city of York.
It was a disaster for the Yorkist cause, but now Edward of March took over as head of the House. He triumphed, became Edward IV, and after one brief blip when he had to flee to his sister in Burgundy, he returned to vanquish Lancaster and reign for twelve peaceful years. He passed away at a relatively young age, but death came in his bed, not on a battlefield.
Of course, being a Ricardian, I have to think of Bosworth, where the greatest betrayal of them all brought about the brutal death of the Duke of York’s youngest son, Richard III. The name Stanley is all I need to say. Back-stabbing and fence-sitting was their game. The Stanleys benefited greatly from their shameful treachery. Who says crime doesn’t pay?
As I have commented here, if only York had stayed put in Sandal Castle, how different might things have been. Would he, not his youngest son, have become King Richard III? Edmund could have lived to marry and perhaps have progeny. George of Clarence might never have rebelled and been condemned for treason. And if York had been around, might his eldest son Edward have been prevented from making the disastrous Woodville “marriage” that was to eventually lead to the horror of Bosworth? Bosworth, where it might have been King Richard IV who was hacked to death.
Who knows? Without the Woodville marriage, there wouldn’t have been a King Richard to die at Bosworth. There wouldn’t have been a Bosworth, because Richard, Duke of Gloucester, would probably have happily lived out his days as Lord of the North, maintaining a peaceful balance between the Nevilles and the Percys.
There is a date of 1504 for at least one of these, so I guess we know who hid them! Step forward Henry VII, and admit it’s one of your stashes. If you’d lost a coin, you’d have had the entire county dug up until it was found!
So there was I, just casually scanning the Mail on Sunday’s “You” magazine (22
Unlike her near namesake:
1) She was a Butler by birth, not by (her first) marriage.
2) She didn’t go on to marry a King in secret.
3) She was Irish – a Butler descended from the Earls of Ormond and/ or Wiltshire, not the Sudeley family.
4) She had a middle name.
5) She lived about three times as long.
As their sobriquet suggests, they lived and died in North Wales. Note that this Lady Eleanor was almost sent to a convent by her mother whilst the mediaeval lady lived near a Carmelite Priory and was buried there.
This article is about Richard, Christmas celebrations, and the Croyland Chronicle. I really enjoyed reading it. It seems Richard’s lavish hospitality met with sour po-faced disapproval! No doubt, if he’d kept a sparse Christmas, he’d have been criticised for not giving himself up to the joy of Christ’s birth.
This excellent post from Nerdalicious, whose tabs appropriately include “History of Folk and Fairy Tales”, shows just how desperately ridiculous the Cairo case really is, particularly when they treat More’s first half as a Fifth Gospel and ignore his second.
After all, we have already shown that the small coffins buried with Edward IV are irrelevant, that several different discoveries were made during the seventeenth century, that Charles II benefited from the find in 1674 and that the “Princes” mtDNA could well be available soon.
I was privileged to be able to help proof-read a copy of Alex Marchant’s new children’s novel about a twelve-year-old boy in the service of Richard, Duke of Gloucester and I was delighted to find that it was well-written, engaging and – wait for it! – pro-Richard! At last we have a novel for children from aged ten and up (and that includes children up to 100!) which depicts Richard as we see him: the just, fair, merciful and intelligent man as opposed to the traditional Tudor/Shakespearean monster and tyrant.
The Order of the White Boar tells the story of Matthew, a talented singer who is sent to Middleham and taken into the household of Richard and Anne. He makes friends while there, including Richard and Anne’s young son, Edward. This is a refreshing change as Edward is shown as a more major character than in most Ricardian novels.
Because of the main protagonist’s age (twelve), it will certainly appeal to children, both boys and girls, of a similar age but don’t let that concern you – it is not an oversimplified story and the plot is just as enthralling for adults. There is a suitable villain and tests of loyalty, chivalry and courage – everything that a child would love. The historical detail is accurate and well-researched and Richard’s character is shown in a sympathetic and positive light.
The Order of the White Boar is the first part of Matthew’s story and the next part promises to be just as exciting and appealing. I can honestly see this becoming a classic for Ricardians and it should definitely be promoted for schoolchildren learning about Richard III, either through history lessons or as a counterpoint to Shakespeare.
To buy the Kindle e-book or the print version click here
Murrey-and-Blue by The Legendary Ten Seconds to be released on 1st November 2017 which is the anniversary of when Richard, later Richard III, was created the Duke of Gloucester in 1461.
A concept album of songs by The Legendary Ten Seconds about the Wars of the Roses and England in the late fifteenth century.
Featuring the following songs:-
inspired after reading a book of the same name by John Ashdown-Hill.
originally featured on the Tant le desiree album which features a mix of new recordings and also old recordings of the original version of this popular song.
Album artwork painted by G Harman of Red fox illustrations.
Ian Churchward vocals, guitars and mandola.
Lord Zarquon keyboards, bass and drums.
Rob Bright guitar on John Judde, John Nesfield’s Retinue and The Seventh of August.
Pippa West vocals on The Boars Head, The Medieval Free Company, Francis Cranley and The Month of May.
Elaine Churchward vocals on The Seventh of August.
Camilla Joyce vocals on the 2017 versions of Court of King Richard III and White Surrey.
John Bessant lap steel guitar on The Dublin King and Lambeth MS 474.
All songs written by Ian Churchward except Shining Knight written by Riikka Katajisto and Ian Churchward.
All songs arranged by Lord Zarquon.
Recorded in Torbay at Rock Lee and Rainbow Starshine studios for Richard The Third Records.
THE MONTH OF MAY (1483)
Dearly beloved I greet you this day
So much has happened in the month of May
The stench from the street assaults my nose
How I do long for the scent of a rose
The news of the queen is very disturbing
Remaining in sanctuary so we are learning
The date of the coronation is set
One Sunday in June it’s not happened yet
Dearly beloved I greet you good day
So much has happened since the month of May
Of true honesty there’s nought to be had
And the stench from the Thames it is terribly bad
The news of Lord Hastings is very disturbing
Of his execution this we are learning
The date of the coronation draws near
Of its cancellation I really do fear