murreyandblue

A great WordPress.com site

Archive for the tag “Stanleys”

William “Waste-all” Berkeley, the lord who out-Stanleyed the Stanleys at Bosworth….!

Berkley_Castle_by_Jan_Kip_1712Here is the story of yet another lord who betrayed Richard III at Bosworth. Oh, but wait a moment, this one betrayed Henry Tudor as well, now there’s a feat!

The man in question was William, eventually Marquess of Berkeley, but nicknamed “Waste-all”. He was 43 when he won the Battle of Nibley Green, which was fought on 20 March 1469 or 1470, depending upon which calendar one uses. The battle is famous now because it was the last to be fought in England by private feudal armies. William “was of an unusually haughty and headstrong disposition, and made himself so much feared by all around him that for several years before his father’s death none of the tenants would accept any lease without William’s joining in it”. Not an endearing character.

north_nibley

The village of North Nibley, Gloucestershire

He had an even more famous feud with Margaret Beauchamp, Countess of Shrewsbury (1404–14 June 1468) was the eldest daughter of the 13th Earl of Warwick, and by her marriage to the 1st Earl of Shrewsbury, as his second wife, she was the mother of Lady Eleanor Talbot, Sir Humphrey Talbot, and Lady Elizabeth Talbot, Duchess of Norfolk, all names Ricardians will know well. But by her first marriage, she was the grandmother of Thomas Talbot, 2nd Baron Lisle , 2nd Viscount Lisle (c.1449-20 March 1470), who was aged 20 or 21 at the time of Nibley Green.Margaret Beauchamp, Countess of Shrewsbury (1404-1467) by James Basire the younger (London 1769 ¿ London 1822)

Margaret was a truly formidable woman who always fought tooth and claw what she considered to be hers and her children’s. She pursued years of feud with the equally formidable William Waste-all. They were “”two merciless natures not unevenly encountering”, as Smyth, the Berkeley family biographer and steward, recorded. The dispute was over manors and lands, including Berkeley Castle itself, which the Countess regarded as hers. Waste-all, needless to say, did not agree. One of the disputed manors was Wotton, not far from Berkeley, which Waste-all said the countess was occupying illegally. The dispute was not confined to legal means, including petitioning King Edward IV, but also by predatory attacks on each other’s territories, and fights between their servants and tenants. It was quite some quarrel, even by the standards of the day.

Berkeley (left) and Lisle (right)

Then, on 14 June 1468, the Countess Margaret died, and her estate—and the great dispute—passed to her grandson, the young Lord Lisle, who was eager to take up the cudgels. He plotted against Waste-all, using a treacherous Berkeley servant who then turned coat again and told Waste-all everything. The latter was monumentally furious. Lisle was livid. Letters were sent, threats made, and a challenge issued on 19 March 1469. The confrontation was set to take place the following day at Nibley Green, halfway between Wotton and Berkeley.

Re-enactment of Battle of Nibley Green

Re-enactment of the Battle of Nibley Green

Waste-all maintained a garrison at Berkeley Castle, which gave him an advantage over Lord Lisle. They faced each other at Nibley Green, 1000 men to 300 or so. It was an unequal conflict from the outset, and because his visor had not been lowered, hot-headed Lisle was shot with an arrow on the left side of his face. One of Waste-all’s supporters, named Black Will of the Forest of Dean, finished off the wounded man with a dagger. Lisle’s force fled, pursued by Waste-all’s. There was chaos as the latter and his great numbers descended on Wotton. Such was the ordeal for Lisle’s young wife, that sixteen days later she was brought to bed early of a stillborn son, thus ending her husband’s line.

All this took place as Warwick the “Kingmaker” was turning upon Edward IV. A few months later, Edward himself was a fugitive and Warwick had returned the displaced Lancastrian, Henry VI, to the throne. Then, the following year, Edward IV returned to overthrow Warwick and Henry VI at the Battle of Barnet. On 6 October 1473, the case was settled in favour of Waste-all, who must have thought it was all done and dusted.

However, he became mixed-up with Sir Edward Grey, brother-in-law (through her first husband) of Elizabeth Woodville, Edward IV’s manipulative queen. Grey married the sister of the late Lord Lisle of Nibley Green, and decided to take up the Lisle claim through his wife. William Waste-all was on shakier ground now, with Elizabeth Woodville obviously set on upholding her brother-in-law’s side of it. Edward IV was always one for a quiet time in his marriage – if marriage it was, considering he was first married to the old Countess’s daughter, Lady Eleanor Talbot, who selfishly stayed alive for four years after he’d uttered his vows to Elizabeth! Oh, tangled webs… In due course Sir Edward Grey would indeed be created Lord Lisle by Richard III.

In the meantime, anxious to stay in favour with Edward IV, Waste-all had conveyed many manors and lands to the king’s younger son, the little Duke of York (soon to be one of the boys in the Tower). When Richard III came to the throne, and the Duke of York (and his elder brother, known as Edward V) were declared illegitimate because of the Eleanor Talbot marriage, everything returned to Waste-all. Did he dance a jig? Probably.

But it was now that he really earned his nickname, Waste-all. After subsequently gaining 68 Mowbray manors and other property across the realm, he set about giving or granting everything away in order to gain honours and distinctions. He conveyed 35 manors to Richard III, in return for the title Earl of Nottingham, and when Richard faced Henry Tudor at Bosworth, it was said that William Waste-all out-Stanleyed the Stanleys, by supporting one side with men, the other with money. Henry Tudor won, and returned the 35 manors to William Waste-all. Was fate hell-bent on helping the fellow?

Next Waste-all conveyed two castles and 28 manors to Sir William Stanley, and then parted with many more to Sir William and others. In his will he entailed Berkeley Castle and all remaining family possession on the Tudor king, reserving only a life interest in them. In return he was created Marquess of Berkeley. He ended up as Great Mareschal of England, but by the time he died, on 14th February, 1492, he had disinherited his entire family. What a Valentine. Small wonder he gained the soubriquet Waste-all!

berkeleycastle

But there is a postscript. Waste-all had no legitimate children, and so his heir was his younger brother, Maurice, whom Waste-all considered to have married beneath his rank and thus brought shame on the family. What nerve, considering his own antics.

Was Waste-all giving everything away in order to punish Maurice, who eventually inherited the title, with nothing to go with it? If this is true, it was a terrible act of spite from nasty old Waste-all, who wasn’t exactly a dazzling adornment to the title of Berkeley.

You will find much more about him and the Battle of Nibley Green at

https://www.rotwang.co.uk/hob_chapter_05.html

 

 

Advertisements

BREAKING NEWS! TROLL CATS DEMONSTRATE TO THEIR HUMAN COUNTERPARTS HOW ITS DONE.

 

IMG_4360.JPG

Cat trolls are credited for being  wiser than human trolls, who are well known for being  wotless, boring and prone to making gaffes…

A group of cats, known as a moggle, have been discovered by their incredulous owners, to have been routinely trolling.  Not only that but the surprised owners discovered that the felines were actually a lot better at it than their human counterparts even though some of them did not have thumbs – well none of them had thumbs actually.  Asked where they liked to troll best they said anything featuring Henry Tudor was fair game.  When they were questioned why, and who their favourite king  was, they all concurred Richard III because it was well known he liked and admired cats as although they were small in stature they had hearts like lions – unlike Henry Tudor  who was a complete waste of a good suit of armour, spending the whole of the Battle of Bosworth behind a pike wall!   Pausing only to regurgitate a fur ball, one of the group, Percy,  explained that Tudor liked nothing better than setting his favorite greyhound, Morton, onto any innocent passing cat just because he could.  However, one of the group, Bowfoot, did demur that he thought Henry, although a coward, was not bad looking as he thought the cross-eyed look very handsome.

IMG_4362.JPG

Percy.  Although lacking teeth Percy remains a happy chap unlike Henry who also lacked teeth as well as a sense of humour..

IMG_4370.JPG

Jockey,  originally from Norfolk, does share some similarities to human trolls in that he likes to spend his days divided equally between sleeping, eating and trolling in no particular order.

IMG_4361.JPG

Tongue protruding in concentration Catesby the Cat demonstrates how easy it is to troll and if one sticks one’s tongue it is easier to hit the correct keys

IMG_4358.JPG

Lovell…unique in that he can uses both paws simultaneously..unlike human trolls

IMG_4357.JPG

Two of the cats are siblings, and being  identical,  both go under the name Stanley.  When they are not trolling,  Stanley and Stanley like nothing better than  sitting on fences

IMG_4366.JPG

Cissie, the matriarch of the group, demonstrates she can type without looking at the keyboard.    Cissie is well known for not being able to tolerate fools easily – human trolls should give this particular cat a very wide berth..

IMG_4367.JPG

Bowfoot opined that he thought Henry quite handsome as the cross-eyed look was very fetching indeed.

IMG_4368.JPG

Ratcliffe..if only all trolls were as handsome,,.

 

IMG_3998.JPG

 

Morton VIII.  This chap is a direct descendant of Henry Tudor’s favorite greyhound Morton…but that dear reader, is another story..

 

Treason among the Roses….or….Who betrayed whom at Wakefield….?

treason among the roses

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.

200px-John_de_Grey,_1st_Baron_Grey_de_Rotherfield_Arms_svg

Edmund Grey, Lord Grey of Ruthin

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.

sandal1300_2

Impression of Sandal Castle, near Wakefield

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.

Raby Castle

Raby Castle

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.

SIr_Andrew_Trollope's_coat_of_arms_svg

Sir Andrew Trollope

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.

richardyorkdeath

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 elsewhere (https://murreyandblue.wordpress.com/2017/05/22/and-now-for-the-height-and-appearance-of-edmund-earl-of-rutland/) 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.

Richard's standard at Bosworth

 

Richard III, the Merovingians, Rothley, the Templars and The De Castro Code….!

The painted tapestry below is from Rothley Chapel in Leicestershire.

Templar painting at Rosley Chapel

Strangely, since the article that prompts me now (see link below) was written in 2012, no one appears to have noticed the great likeness of the depicted English king to Richard III. At least, if they have, I don’t know of it. It’s Richard, even to his clothes. Clearly, he has been based on the famous portrait in the National Portrait Gallery.

Richard for De Castro Code

 

But clearly too, the Templars were no longer a huge force in Richard’s time. Nor is the royal banner appropriate to the 15th century, when the English kings also laid claim to the crown of France. (To read more about Rothley Temple, which is now part of the Rothley Court Hotel, there is an informative article at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rothley_Temple and another at http://knightstemplarvault.com/rothley-chapel/. There is more again, with many illustrations, at http://www.rothleyparishcouncil.org.uk/rothley-temple-and-the-chapel-of.html.)

So let’s consider the De Castro Code article for a moment. It’s a very interesting and clever allusion to Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code, and to conspiracy theories in general. I love a good conspiracy theory, from the so-called fraud of the moon landings to whether Hitler lived on in South America after World War II. I’m not saying I believe them, just that they fascinate me. So do not even mention Rennes le Château or pirates’ buried treasure at Oak Island. Or Atlantis being in Antarctica or a real flying saucer being captured at Roswell and kept at Area 51. All juicy stuff, and eminently readable.

Rennes le Chateau

In the case of the illustration at the beginning of what I now write, it appears to depict Richard III with Templar knights, the conspiracy is referred at (very neatly and appropriately) as The De Castro Code. (St Mary de Castro is a church in Leicester) Dan Brown’s world-selling novel concerned a theory that Jesus married Mary Magdalene, and founded the Merovingian dynasty of French kings. With the Norman Conquest of 1066, families with Merovingian blood came over to England. They were the de Beaumonts and the de Montforts. Leicester first Norman earl, Robert de Beaumont, married a lady of undoubted Merovingin descent, so that their son, Robert le Bossu (who built Leicester Abbey), became the first truly Merovingian earl.

Leicester Abbey

Death of Simon de Montfort at Evesham 1265

The death of Simon de Montfort at the battle of Evesham

This Merovingian line only died out when Simon de Montfort was killed in 1265. So for 200 years, Leicester was a Merovingian stronghold in England, with rulers who claimed divine descent. Well, I doubt they promoted such a claim at the time, for it would have brought the wrath of Holy Church down upon them, and the awful fate that would entail. An English king was hardly likely to defend nobles who boasted such a claim. Anyway, the upshot of all this is that the Merovingians were also in England. Specifically Leicester. What might this imply – if they were indeed of divine descent?

could be richard

Cropped from painting  in Rothley Chapel

So, what is the artist saying? Was he an early Ricardian, pointing out on the q.t. that Richard was as betrayed and defamed as the Templars had been? After all, the Stanleys betrayed him on the battlefield, and the Tudors defamed him at every whipstitch.

Or… Might there be a hint that Richard had Merovingian blood in his veins? That would mean Edward IV and George of Clarence had as well, of course, but the artist seems concerned only with Richard.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have not covered everything from the article, such as all the other similarities with The Da Vinci Code’s conclusions (St Mary de Castro even has a window depicting the Last Supper, and a possible Mary Magdalene), nor have I wondered about the Templar connection with the similarly named Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland, but I leave you to cogitate this most puzzling of new Ricardian mysteries….

Last Supper window, st mary de castro church

The following link takes you to the original article.  http://www.thiswasleicestershire.co.uk/2012/11/the-de-castro-code.html

Postscript: I have been reminded (by Christine Smart – thank you, Christine!) that in the spring of 1484, the Silesian ambassador had a conversation with Richard, in which the latter expressed a desire to go on a Crusade. http://staffblogs.le.ac.uk/crusading/2014/03/20/a-crusading-richard-iii/ This may well be the inspiration for the painting. But it cannot be said for certain. An element of mystery still remains.

Another Postscript: While examining a Google image of the Rothley Temple painted tapestry—more information about which is infuriatingly elusive—I wondered if it was possible the unknown artist had signed it somewhere. All the usual places proved negative, but then I spotted something which looks like a signature to me, but can’t be made out because the resolution of the illustration is too poor. I have indicated its whereabouts in the illustration below. Opinions please? A larger version of the picture is at the beginning of this post.

Stanley and the Stanley Knife

They are sharp and good for purposes both fair and foul, and might even be handy for some back-stabbing (should one be of that disposition!)

What am I talking about? The Stanley Knife.

Jokes abound on certain medieval groups about these multi purpose knives being something that should have been invented by the two side-shifting, game-playing Stanley Bros of the 15thc…so I thought I would endeavour to find out if there was indeed a connection.

Here is what I’ve found…

A WILLIAM Stanley invented the Stanley Knife. No, not the one who Henry Tudor executed when he suggested Perkin Warbeck might be the ‘real deal’ but William Stanley, born in Islington in 1829. He was the son of a mechanic called John Stanley and was a descendant of  Thomas Stanley–not THAT particular Thomas Stanley, but the one who wrote The History of Philosophy in the 17th c. Author-philosopher Stanley was the son of Sir Thomas Stanley of Cumberlow, who—and this is where it gets interesting—happened to be the grandson of  yet another Thomas Stanley (they loved the name Thomas, those Stanleys! Doubting Thomases?), an illegitimate son of Edward Stanley, third Earl of Derby. Edward Stanley was the son of Thomas Stanley (that name again!) the 2nd Earl, who was, in turn, the son of George Stanley…you might also know George as Lord Strange, who was held at Bosworth by  Richard for  the good behaviour of his father, THE Thomas Stanley.

(The story goes that Stanley said Richard could go ahead and execute poor old George  because he ‘had other sons’; this may be purely mythical, however. Other falsehoods about Lord Strange is that he was a hapless innocent child held hostage by the nasty ‘baddie’ Richard—he was at least 24-25 at the time of Bosworth, and some sources list him as older still. A further interesting fact is that his wife Joan’s  mother Jacquetta was sister to Elizabeth Woodville.)

And so this leads us to George Stanley’s father, who was, of course, was Thomas the Trimmer, first Earl of Derby, step-father to Henry Tudor and husband of Margaret Beaufort–so yes, one could indeed say the Stanley Knife is connected to that slippery lord and his kin.

I expect Lord Stanley would have approved.

stanleyknife

While on a Cheshire road, Richard, Duke of Gloucester happened upon the retainers of Thomas, Lord Stanley….

knights ambushed on road

In my other article about Richard’s support for the Harringtons of Lancashire against Thomas, Lord Stanley, * I promised to write more about Stanley’s treachery and thirst for revenge on Richard. Other events happened at around the same time as the Harrington/Stanley quarrels, indeed the two are contiguous, and this time Richard was responsible for Thomas Stanley coming off worse.

At the end of the 1460s Richard took the side of the Harrington family against Stanley, who was trying to crush them and steal their property, especially Hornby Castle in Lancashire, which he particularly coveted. Edward IV decided in the Stanleys’ favour, even though the Harringtons had been staunchly Yorkist, and Stanley was…anyone’s guess, but beneath it all I suppose he was Lancastrian. No, he was a Stanleyite, only interested in his own wealth and advancement, and he didn’t care how he went about it. He must have felt smug and vindicated when Edward decided in his favour, but he wouldn’t forget Richard’s opposition.

hornbycastlelancashire_large

On 12th March 1470, a battle was fought at Empingham in Lincolnshire. Well, just over the county border in Rutland. It was to be known to posterity as the Battle of Losecoat Field. Hostilities first stirred when Lord Welles, a Lancastrian, plundered the manor of Sir Thomas Burgh, Edward IV’s Master of the Horse. Things went from bad to worse, and soon the countryside was in uproar.

The bare bones of it are that Edward’s disgruntled brother, George, Duke of Clarence, deserted him to support the Earl of Warwick, who was (at this time) on the Lancastrian side. It is believed that Warwick and Clarence were behind the uprising which they intended to exploit to bring Edward down and (Clarence hoped) put him on the throne instead. But Edward moved swiftly, and took his well-trained army, complete with formidable hardware, to confront the much larger army of rebels that consisted of a rabble of common men. Faced with such royal discipline and fire-power, the ragtag rebels fled, casting off its coats as it went. Thus the Battle of Empingham became known as the Battle of Losecoat Field.

The battle is commemorated in the hall of Oakham Castle, where there is a display of horseshoes, the oldest of which was presented by Edward after the battle. At the time it had the king’s coat of arms on the top and also the Rose of York on a red background.

Warwick and Clarence made themselves scarce, riding for Manchester, where they intended to join forces with—guess who?—Lord Stanley! At this point, however, Edward did not know of Stanley’s duplicity. Richard did, however, having found out purely by chance.

Richard, seventeen at the time, had been holding Wales for the king, and on hearing of Clarence and Warwick’s treachery, he set out with a small, hastily collected force, intending to give his support to Edward. I will now let Paul Murray Kendall take up the story:-

“…he [Richard] headed north on the Hereford to Shrewsbury road. As he was riding through Cheshire, Richard suddenly found his way blocked by followers of Lord Stanley. He scattered them and moved on warily, dispatching a warning to the king of Stanley’s hostility.

“Richard’s intervention had come at an opportune moment. Lord Stanley, who was married to Warwick’s sister, had given Warwick and Clarence assurances that he would support them. As they moved northward, temporizing with the King, Stanley, at Manchester, was gathering his retainers. At almost the same time he learned that Warwick and Clarence were galloping westward from Chesterfield, expecting him to succour them. Stanley’s nerve deserted him. He sent messengers riding in hot haste: one, to Clarence and Warwick with word that he was unable to help them; the other, to the King, protesting righteously that the Duke of Gloucester had attacked his people. Abandoning all hope of raising a following, Clarence and Warwick wheeled about and fled south.

“By this time King Edward, discerning the true state of affairs, had sent word to Richard thanking him for his prompt action and requesting him to stay his march. [Richard went to his Harrington friends at Hornby Castle, where he was on 26th March.] Lord Stanley [was ordered by Edward] to disband his retainers and keep the peace. On March 25, at York, Edward commanded proclamation to be made that no man was to stir up trouble because of ‘any matter of variance late fallen between his right entirely beloved brother, the Duke of Gloucester and Lord Stanley’. Two or three days later Richard received commissions to array the men of Gloucestershire and Hereford in order to join the King in the pursuit of his rebels.”

Clarence and Warwick, with their wives, managed to escape to France, where they were given a warm welcome by the officers of Louis XI. They would return to invade England the following year. Warwick would die at the Battle of Barnet, and Clarence would sneak back into Edward’s good books and fight for him at the Battle of Tewkesbury.

So, within a very short space of time Thomas Stanley garnered two very strong reasons to resent Richard, who in the future, as Richard III, would again show support for the Harringtons. Were Thomas and his brother William men to bear grudges? Oh, yes. They waited until August 1485, Bosworth, and exacted full revenge. Thomas remained inactive in the battle (if he was there at all), while William pitched in on the side of Henry Tudor.

As I said in my article on the Harringtons’ quarrel with the Stanleys, I think the outcome of Bosworth had much more to do with the past and bruised Stanley egos, than with Henry Tudor, Margaret Beaufort et al. Thomas and William Stanley merely concealed their real motivation behind a screen of new allegiance to Henry.

* This ‘previous’ article has been moved, and now follows on 22nd July 2017. Sorry for the mix-up.

Thomas, Lord Stanley

Thomas, Lord Stanley

‘The Hollow Crown’: A Poisoned Chalice or the Ultimate Prize?

Giaconda's Blog

benedict Benedict Cumberbatch as Shakespeare’s Richard III

I am currently watching the second instalment of Shakespeare’s history plays, concerning ‘The Wars of the Roses’ as interpreted by the BBC’s condensed and somewhat, contorted adaptation.

The first part of ‘The Hollow Crown’ covered Shakespeare’s history plays: Richard II, Henry IV, Part I and II and Henry Vth.  It was, for the most part, an excellent production. A combination of strong casting, brilliant original material and interesting sets made it a joy to watch. Simon Russell Beale’s Falstaff was a triumph. He gave a mesmerizing performance which managed to capture all the facets of Falstaff’s complex character in little more than a look or a gesture.

The overwhelming sense of these plays was the great burden which kingship brought for the poor unfortunate who wore the crown. In another blog post I have written about this in detail, taking specific lines from each of…

View original post 2,891 more words

Richard III: Their part in his rediscovery

220px-EaglepubArms_of_the_Earl_of_Derby_02666index

 

We all know that Richard III was identified by his mitochondrial DNA and that DNA was discovered in Cambridge. The discovery was announced at the “Eagle” pub in the city.

It is less well known that this name is derived from the Stanley badge, the “Eagle and Child” , although it ought, perhaps, have been the Cross of Lorraine?

An interview with Phillippa Langley – Part One …

… in which we question the “Kingfinder General”:

1) Did your name, shared with two of Richard III’s great-grandparents, interest you in him?

I remember being intrigued by seeing the name Langley and the Philippas in his Plantagenet ancestry and family tree but it wasn’t what interested me in Richard. I was captivated by his extraordinary historical story, why it had never been placed centre-stage on our screens and why the Shakespearean grotesque was (and is) continually, and endlessly, rolled out in its stead.

2) Do you have any news from Reading on their quest for the abbey church?

No further news as yet but the Hidden Abbey Project is Reading’s exciting new research initiative that aims to uncover as much as it can about one of Western Europe’s most important medieval buildings. Research gets underway in 2016 with the first-ever Ground Penetrating Radar (GPR) survey of the site. The landowners will be working with Historic England (formerly English Heritage) as the site holds National Monument status so it will be a step by step process under their auspices.

3) Are you planning to research the Stanley family’s archives?

Short answer is yes. The Princes Project aims to leave no stone unturned in the hope that we can help shed new light on the enduring mystery surrounding the disappearance of the sons of Edward IV and inform ongoing study into the life and times of King Richard. Is it possible that the mystery can be solved; is there anything to be found? We cannot of course know, but what we do know is that for the very first-time we are looking and this is what is important. The project is also looking at the mystery in an entirely new way and asking questions that to my knowledge have never been asked before. If Richard is to be finally laid to rest, this mystery is for me the final frontier in terms of research into the last Plantagenet and we are fortunate to have a growing team of researchers and experts behind it.

4) Many families and guilds are opening their archives to help with your quest to find out what really happened to the sons of Edward IV. Are there also people, or institutions that have declined to help? If so, what reason did they give?

The Princes Project has been incredibly privileged with everyone we have contacted thus far (and who have contacted us) moving heaven and earth to help. Only one connection was not quite as helpful as we’d hoped but this was probably because their records had been moved from the family home to the National Archives in London.

Ends

What if?…

Portrait of King Richard III

King Richard III

I am nearly finished writing my first novel (about Richard of course!) and there is a section where the question “What if Richard III had won the battle of Bosworth?” is asked.

We know that he nearly reached Henry ‘Tudor’ and so it isn’t too farfetched to imagine the result if he had killed Henry.

Would he have executed the Stanleys? What about Northumberland?

And Rhys Ap Thomas who allowed Henry to enter the country over his ‘bellie’? Would Richard have become more ruthless?

Would England have remained a Catholic country? Would Richard have invaded France, as the French also supported ‘Tudor’? Would he have gone on a crusade?

It is known that Christopher Columbus’ brother, Bartholomew, came to England in 1489 to request funds to fund his brother’s venture to the New World and was refused by Henry. Would Richard have acted any differently?

Would he have married Joana of Portugal? Would she have agreed to the match, since she had previously refused other suitors?

What would Richard have done regarding York Minster, as he was planning a chantry chapel there? If he built this, would he have moved Anne’s body (and his son, Edward’s) there, using it as a family mausoleum?

What other laws would he have brought in? Would he have moved his court to the North? How would he have behaved towards the Scots?

If the ‘Princes’ had not been killed in the Tower, but moved, as many of us think, what would have happened to them later?

What sort of king would he have been? (I think I can guess what most of our readers will say to this!)

Discuss! Please leave your comments below!

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: