”Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York.”---Richard III by William Shakespeare
In my opinion, there may not be a ”Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York.”---Richard III by William Shakespeare
In my opinion, there may not be a person in history, other than maybe Mary Magdalen, who has been more maligned by a writer than Richard III. Shakespeare turns him into a scheming hunchback with few redeeming qualities, and he does it so brilliantly.
”And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ; And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.”
There is a Richard III Society who have and are working diligently to repair the damage to Richard’s character. They call themselves Ricardians. They have deftly laid out all the charges against Richard.
The negative perception of Richard III relates to some or all of the following points: he was a nasty hunchback who plotted and schemed his way to the throne; He killed Henry VI's son Edward; He killed Henry VI (a sweet, innocent saint); He got his brother, the duke of Clarence, executed; He killed the Princes in the Tower (sweet, innocent children); He killed his wife Anne because he wanted to marry his niece Elizabeth; He was a bad king, and so it was lucky that Good King Henry Tudor got rid of him for us.
I don’t know if Sharon K. Penman would call herself a Ricardian, but she certainly does a wonderful job restoring Richard’s reputation in the course of this novel. I want to talk about each one of these points and how Penman viewed them.
He was a nasty hunchback.
Historically, a deformity of the body was betraying the evil sins of the soul, so a hunchback would be seen as a disfigurement that went deeper than skin and bone. I think about Igor from the Frankenstein movies and how unsettling it was to watch him shuffle and scurry about, abused, but happy to have a place, even if it is as an assistant to a madman. Penman explains that Richard’s deformity is not from birth but from a shoulder injury, improperly set, from a jousting tournament. Needless to say, it was an injury that plagued him, but it certainly didn’t keep him from being a successful battlefield commander under his brother Edward IV.
He killed Henry VI's son Edward or Edouard.
There isn’t any evidence, that I know of, that Richard was anywhere near Edouard during the Battle of Tewkesbury. I’ve always believed that Richard’s brother George, the Duke of Clarence, and some of his followers beheaded the lad after the battle. Penman agrees with that assessment. Due to the number of betrayals and uprisings that Edward IV, or Ned as he is referred to in this novel, had to contend with, it would make sense to begin lobbing heads off. Ned has shown great statesmanship and a capacity for forgiving that exceeds any expectation for a Middle Ages ruler (The Tudors were much less forgiving). For the future of the kingdom and for the safety of his family Ned was forced to be merciless. In the first struggle between Yorks and Lancasterians Edward and Richard’s seventeen year old brother Edmund was ordered murdered by Edouard’s mother Marguerite, who was of course married to the deposed mad king Henry VI. Some could say that Edouard’s abrupt parting of body and head may have been a partial payment for the death of Edmund.
He killed Henry VI (a sweet, innocent saint)
Penman believes that Edward IV did instruct his brother to make arrangements for Henry VI to have an “accident”. It wasn’t something the Yorkist wanted to do, but again, given the fact that the Earl of Warwick, otherwise known as the kingmaker, and others would use him as a point of rebellion, it only made practical sense that he must be taken off the chessfboard. As far as the saintly part, that is just absurd, not that he was a bad man, just certifiably insane. He was completely incapable of ruling a kingdom.
He got his brother, the Duke of Clarence, executed.
Well, George was suffering from a multitude of middle child issues. Ned was the great champion and king of England, in comparison any sibling would feel like a second, unstrung fiddle. Ned definitely favored Richard over George. Of course, it didn’t help their strained relationship George joined with Warwick to rebel against the crown. He was married to Warwick’s daughter, Isabel, and Warwick had visions of putting George on the throne so that his grandchildren would eventually rule England. After they were defeated, Edward, instead of lobbing off his brother’s head, elected to give him a second chance, as he did with many people. Over time as George became more and more mentally unstable, Edward eventually lost his patience and ordered his trial and execution. Richard had nothing to do with that; in fact, Penman makes the case that he tried to change his brother’s mind about the execution. I feel that Ned also reached the conclusion that if something happened to him George would make a grab for the throne and that would be bad for England. George’s death does benefit Richard in the dynastic struggle. He is one step closer to the throne.
He killed the Princes in the Tower (sweet, innocent children).
Okay, this is one of the most fascinating mysteries in history. Did Richard have Edward V and his brother murdered? The trouble is that Ned died too young. If he’d managed to live a few more years, until his oldest son Edward was at least a teenager, the succession would have been much easier. He appointed Richard Lord Protector of the Realm until Edward came of age. There was a lot of animosity between Elizabeth Woodville, wife of Edward IV and mother of Edward V, and Richard. She wanted to use her son to continue to move her upstart clan into even more advantageous positions and knew that Richard was the main stumbling block between her and her schemes. Penman reasons that Richard put his brother’s sons in the Tower to protect them and crowned himself king out of self-preservation. I do find it hard to believe that Richard would kill his brother’s sons. He adored Ned. He owed everything to Ned. Penman makes the case that another aristocrat ( I won’t say who), as a first step to achieving the throne for himself, had the boys murdered.
He killed his wife Anne because he wanted to marry his niece Elizabeth.
Complete bollocks. Richard grew up with Anne and, according to Penman, carried a torch for her his entire life. She was forced to marry Edouard, another scheme by Warwick to have one of his daughters be married to a future king of England. He hedged his bets by marrying his daughters to Edouard and George and lost both bets. After Edouard is beheaded, finally Richard can marry the love of his life. They have one son, who dies at age ten, which leaves Richard very vulnerable on the throne. A living heir would have meant stability for the realm. From a practical, alliance standpoint, he should have married someone who would have been more advantageous to him. Anne was also sickly and, with her tiny frame, hardly inspired confidence that she would provide a brood of healthy children. My assessment is that it could have only been love that inspired him to marry Anne.
He was a bad king, and so it was lucky that Good King Henry Tudor got rid of him for us.
He was a man beset by too many enemies, and as we will discover, he was ultimately betrayed at Bosworth Field. After his defeat and death, he was maligned by Henry VII in an attempt to solidify the Tudor claim to the throne. Henry was merely doing England a favor, ridding them of such a deformed and evil king. I actually think that if Richard had survived the war, beheaded Henry Tudor, and managed to remarry and produce an heir, history would have been much kinder to him. Shakespeare’s pen may have been blunted regarding Richard. He had to rid his kingdom of all the treasonous, vile bastards who had over the years insinuated themselves into positions of power from which they now worked diligently to undermine his rule. There were many people who needed Richard to not only lose his final battle but also die, because if he had lived, there would have been a bloody reckoning. ”A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!” Richard fought bravely; in fact, he fought like a madman and made the fatal mistake to try to go for the killing blow. He nearly made it to Henry in the melee of the battle, and I have no doubt that, if he’d gotten within a sword thrust, the Tudors would have been a mere footnote to history. Richard got close enough to Henry that I’m pretty sure Henry dropped a load in his brais. “What is that stench?” the peasants said as Henry rode past on his way to London.
All Richard had to do was survive the battle. He could afford to lose the battle and still retain his kingdom. When he discovered he was betrayed, he should have fled to Northern England, where he enjoyed great support, and raised another, even bigger army and defeated Henry Tudor in their second meeting. This reminds me of Harold II dying at the Battle of Hastings. If he had ducked and that arrow had passed over his head instead of into his eye, I have no doubt that William the Conqueror would have been known as William Pisspants as he fled back to Normandy. Again, Harold didn’t have to win the battle. He just had to win the war.
This book is a monster. 1,073 pages. Penman takes us from the time when Richard is a mere lad up until his death. There are so many intrigues and so many more fascinating side stories about the Plantagenets that Penman could have written a book three times as long. I don’t really understand the fascination with those usurping, infertile Tudors. Of course, some might say the Plantagenets were too fertile with too many legitimate claimants to the throne. The Plantagenets and the War of the Roses, for me, is infinitely more fascinating than that misogynist bastard Henry VIIII and his flurry of abused wives. Penman really puts flesh on the bones of these historical figures and certainly made me much more of a Ricardian than I was before.
”Aethelstan’s fifteen-year reign (924-939) constitutes one of the most significant periods in the history of England before the Norman Conquest. He wa”Aethelstan’s fifteen-year reign (924-939) constitutes one of the most significant periods in the history of England before the Norman Conquest. He was the first monarch to create and rule over a unified kingdom of the English, and proved himself adept at defending that kingdom against rival powers in northern Britain and Ireland as well as from Scandinavian incursion. In life, Aethelstan’s contemporaries regarded him as the ‘the most excellent and illustrious among the earthly kings of our own day.’”
If early English medieval history is a large banquet hall, Alfred the Great sucks all the oxygen out of the room. His reign is the beginning of the Anglo-Saxons seeing themselves as a united people. It is the emergence of the idea of Englishness. Sarah Foot mentions in this book that even well educated Britains today would struggle to remember the names of the early English kings other than Alfred and poor Harold, who took the arrow in the eye at the Battle of Hastings. It helps to have the epitaph Great attached to your name, and certainly Alfred was a wonderful self-promoter, teaching himself Latin and recording his own deeds. Few kings throughout history have had that opportunity. He looms so large on the historical horizon that the accomplishments of his son, Edward the Elder, and his grandson Aethelstan are overshadowed and, frankly, nearly forgotten.
Alfred is the first monarch of the Anglo-Saxons; Edward, with the help of his sister Aethelflaed, Lady of Mercia, grows the borders of the kingdom, but it is Aethelstan who unites all of England and becomes the first monarch of the English.
It is unknown for sure what exactly happened with Aethelstan’s mother. She is either set aside by Edward for a more advantageous match or she dies. Bernard Cornwell presents her in his works of fiction as the passionate, ill-advised match for a lustful Edward, who for the sake of the kingdom has to spurn her and his son and daughter. The negotiations with the family of Edward’s second wife, Aelfflaed, most probably included an understanding that Aethelstan would be skipped in the line of succession to favor her future sons.
Aethelstan seems to have spent a considerable amount of time in Mercia, under the care of his aunt, Aethelflaed. I believe he benefited from that time with his aunt. She was a powerful, dynamic woman who was much loved by her people and had shown success on the battlefield as well as at the negotiation table to help Edward extend the influence of the Wessex and Mercian alliance. Aethelstan was also well-loved in Mercia and when his father dies he is hailed as the new king of Wessex by admiring Mercians.
Aethelstan is with his father in the northern part of the kingdom when Edward dies. Aelfweard is in Wessex. Is this simply a matter of geography, or was it firmly established that Edward intended Aelfweard to succeed him? I believe it to be both. Regardless, Aelfweard becomes king for 16 days, such a short time that on my poster of the kings and queens of England that hangs on my office wall he is not even listed.
Aelfweard dies rather suddenly. Is it fate? Is he poisoned?
Aethelstan becomes king. The air may be redolent with the smell of intrigue, but it becomes a stench when Aelfweard’s younger brother, Edwin, becomes involved in an attempt to dethrone his half brother. Edwin is banished, and as he is crossing the sea to exile, he drowns.
Did Aethelstan have him killed? It could have been just misadventure, after all crossing the sea in the 10th century always carried some risk, but if I were a betting man, I would guess some coin crossed some palms, and Edwin was destined to sleep with the fishes long before he reached shore.
Aethelstan is a collector of books and relics. He is more like his grandfather in this regard. His father is pious and educated, but does not seem to be as fervent about either as was Alfred or his son. Aethelstan prefers the company of young men. From a modern perspective, much can be intimated into that statement. He appears to have taken a vow of chastity, never marries, and there has never been any mention of any bastard children. By doing so, he ensures that his younger brother Edmund, by his father’s third wife, will succeed him without a challenge from his offspring. These half brothers seem to get along well. They fight together and appear to be sympatico.
In fact, they are together at the defining moment of Aethelstan’s reign in 937 at the battle of Brunanburh. The Anglo-Saxon army squares off against the Dublin Norse, the Scots, and the Welsh and wins a resounding victory. This is the moment when Aethelstan becomes the undisputed first monarch of the English. He adds the final bricks to the wall that his father and grandfather had started. This is an important victory and would have been a devastating defeat. If Aethelstan had lost this battle, he would have also lost all the territorial gains that his father, Aethelflaed, and himself had made. He may have had trouble hanging onto Wessex. A very different England may have emerged.
What is also significant is that Aethelstan is known on a national stage. He is seen as a powerful leader by the other kings of Europe and is often asked by them for his military assistance and his wise counsel.
It is easy to make the case that Aethelstan should also bear the epitaph Great. He takes what his ancestors gave him and made it into a great kingdom. He certainly shouldn’t be thought of as a footnote to the life of his grandfather. In The Last Kingdom, the TV series created from the books of Bernard Cornwell, Aethelstan makes his appearance in the fourth season as a young boy. I’m fascinated to see how Cornwell interprets Aethelstan’s life and rise to power. Sarah Foot, as a researcher and the author of this book, has a legitimate concern that most of what we know about Aethelstan is from one source, the writings of William of Malmesbury. She would have loved to have had a plethora of source documentation to resource while writing this book, and was frequently in the position, as many historians are, of making a best guess. This is a scholarly book, and as fascinating as I found it to be, it may prove to be a rough go for the average reader.
I will be continuing my journey through the lives of the early kings of England with Edmund, Aethelstan’s younger half brother and successor.
”’My God, what a wonderful land this is, and fickle, which has exiled, slain, destroyed and ruined so many kings, so many rulers, so many great men, a”’My God, what a wonderful land this is, and fickle, which has exiled, slain, destroyed and ruined so many kings, so many rulers, so many great men, and which never ceases to be riven and worn by dissensions and discords and envy.’ --Richard of Bordeaux on 21 September 1399 while imprisoned in the Tower of London after his downfall.”
Richard of Bordeaux was the oldest surviving son of Edward, The Black Prince of Woodstock, who was the oldest son of Edward III and heir to the throne until his untimely death in 1376. When Edward III passed away in 1377, Richard was crowned king at the tender age of 10.
The problem, of course, is that the Black Prince had been preparing to be king his entire life. He was a proven, successful battlefield commander, and the passing of power from his father to himself would have been seamless, but unfortunately, he came down with a wasting disease that shortened his life considerably. He compounded the issue of succession by marrying late, at the age of 31, thus leaving a young child instead of a young man as heir apparent. To make matters even worse, Edward married the lovely, obviously she must be nearly irresistible, Joan of Kent, who was previously married to one man secretly and to another officially, thus making her a bigamist in the eyes of the church. Not to mention that one of her previous husbands refused to die, but lived on and on, being a visual reminder of her past long after she was married to Edward. It was seriously like something out of a Telemundo soap opera.
His mother’s checkered past would haunt Richard for the length of his reign.
I believe that Richard II should have never been king. I find it ridiculous to adhere to some primogentry edict and put a child on the throne when Edward III supplied several other sons, who were grown men and also very capable of taking up the reins of power. If Edward III had named his third son, John of Gaunt, as king, the devastating war fought over succession, referred to as The War of the Roses, might have been avoided. There is precedent in English history. When Richard II’s namesake, Richard I, the Lionheart, died without issue, his nephew Authur of Brittany, son of his younger brother Geoffrey, was passed over for Richard’s youngest brother, John. John did settle the question permanently; many believe that he personally strangled Authur to make sure there were no future claims to take his throne.
Richard was the grandson of a king. John of Gaunt was a son of a king, which in my mind certainly makes him the more valid candidate for the throne. There was another son named Lionel, who was between Edward and John, who died before his father. His grandson Roger Mortimer, son of Lionel’s daughter Philippa, also had a claim to the throne. Again, he is a grandson of a king, but being descended from a female was considered in the Middle Ages to be not as strong of a claim. To strengthen John of Gaunt’s claim, he also had a very capable son, Henry of Lancaster, who had four sons of his own, ensuring a long line of male successors to provide stability in leadership for England.
Making matters worse, Richard II turned out to be infertile. He had two queens and produced no offspring. With no direct heir to the throne, this allowed a lot of speculation and hope to rise among his cousins as to who would be the next king. If Richard had produced a son, he might have kept his throne.
In my opinion, a lot of problems would have been avoided by putting John of Gaunt on the throne of England. Of course, I have the benefit of hindsight, but rarely does it work out well when children are crowned. Henry VI, grandson of Henry of Lancaster later Henry IV, who was crowned at nine months old, is one very wonderful example of how bad it can get.
Richard didn’t help himself. As he grew up, he was volatile and lashed out at people, showing more weakness than strength in the process. He was too friendly with Robert de Vere, whom he elevated well above his station, creating resentment among the nobles. Richard tried to have his grandfather, Edward II, canonized as a saint by the church, which just called attention to the parallels people were already seeing between the two kings. Edward II, another king who loved men too much, was deposed by his wife, Isabella, the she-wolf of France, and her lover, Roger Mortimer. If the name Mortimer sounds familiar, it is because you read that name earlier in this review. His grandson married Edward III’s granddaughter. Given that Edward III hanged Mortimer to regain his throne, he was certainly very forgiving, allowing a Mortimer to marry his granddaughter.
Seriously, soap operas have nothing on the Plantagenets.
I do think that Richard did love his wife, Anne of Bohemia. He was plainly distraught over her death, having a palace razed to the ground rather than spend another moment within its walls without her. He definitely became more erratic after her death, leading many to believe that she had had a calming influence on him. If Richard was in love with Robert de Vere, it clearly did not become a wedge between him and his queen. In my opinion, I’d say it is more likely that Richard was bisexual, just unfortunately incapabable of producing an heir.
Richard was not well liked, and assuredly, when he banished Henry of Lancaster from England for life and confiscated the lands Henry inherited from his father John of Gaunt, he took things a step too far. Instinctively, he might have been trying to protect the future of his kingship by bouncing his main rival out of England. This radical decision made the other nobles nervous. Power grabs and dirty deals were a part of normal politics, but to strip all the possessions from the most powerful man in England, well, who would be next? Richard really left Henry with no choice. He had to take back his lands, and the only way he could do that was to take the crown as well.
So the detour of the crown to Richard finally lands on the head of the man whose father should have had the crown after the death of Edward III. ‘Tis a mess to say the least.
William Shakespeare undoubtedly loved this story, and his play covered the last critical two years of Richard II’s reign. I never see Richard II show up on any best-of lists of Shakespeare’s work, but the play certainly influenced how history perceived Richard II as a man and as a beleaguered King of England.
Kathryn Warner has done a marvelous job, laying out the framework of Richard’s disastrous reign, and makes a case that he wasn’t as ineffectual as king as he has been portrayed. He was, in many ways, progressive, but he wasn’t strong enough in his convictions to move men to support him. He avoided war, which saved the lives of thousands of his people, but especially in comparison to his warring ancestors, this made him seem weak. My overall view of Richard has been changed by this book, and I see him with a clearer perspective. My general impressions of him have moved from thinking of him as a terrible king to one of better understanding the conditions with which he had to contend. He was dealt a bad hand from the moment his father died and the decision was made that he was the heir apparent. With so many more capable alternatives waiting in the wings, he was doomed from the moment the sceptre was placed in his hands and the crown was settled upon his head.
Kathryn Warner also wrote a book about Edward II, and I plan to read that one as well. The next Plantagenet read for me will be Ian Mortimer’s biography of Richard’s successor and enemy Henry IV.
”Representations of Edward are in short supply, stylised or otherwise, and there have been no popular myths to support his legacy. As mentioned right ”Representations of Edward are in short supply, stylised or otherwise, and there have been no popular myths to support his legacy. As mentioned right at the beginning of his story, Edward’s legacy looks pale in the shadow of his father and to a lesser extent that of his son Aethelstan. Furthermore, the romantic perception of Edward’s elder sister Aethelflaed, the warrior queen, as a beacon for medieval women capable of strong leadership has similarly overshadowed attention from Edward’s reign and his achievements. Medieval and modern writers have been so in awe of Alfred, so captivated by Aethelflaed, and so respectful of Aethelstan that Edward’s reputation has suffered in comparison against the three.”
Alfred the Great was simply a better promotor than his heir and son Edward the Elder. He wrote/guided the Anglo Saxon Chronicles into Old English, and the adage is probably true in this case that the victors wrote the history. I don’t in any way mean to take anything away from Alfred. Without him, England may have never been England, but some form of Daneland. Under an onslaught of Scandinavian invasions, he managed to hang onto Wessex, and from Wessex he and his descendents were able to make territorial gains that eventually united England under Anglo Saxon control.
What is impressive to me is that, with the death of Alfred in 899, the transition of power to his eldest son Edward was relatively seamless. Edward might have eventually elevated his own favorites into positions of power in his court, but the changes that Alfred had instituted to make Wessex stronger were upheld. Edward was well prepared by his father to pick up the reins of power and obviously had been allowed, unlike many heirs at other points in history, to be involved in the policy and decision making of the kingdom.
Alfred was a Christian, a fervent Christian, and though it pains me to say this, it was a brilliant strategy on his part to unite his people under a Christian banner. This was a stronger uniting influence on the Anglo Saxons than any concept of country. Edward continued this practice, and slowly but surely, they convinced Danes to put aside their pagan ways and embrace Christianity. The best way to prove that your God was more powerful was to defeat the Danes in battle, and both father and son managed to do that time and time again.
Edward expanded the empire, and we cannot ignore the contributions of his sister Aethelflaed in accomplishing this feat. She was simply amazing. She married the king of neighboring Mercia, who frankly at times was an uncertain ally, and when her husband died, there was no question that she would be named Queen of Mercia. The siblings forever united the kingdoms of Mercia and Wessex, and they worked together to take over the surrounding Scandinavian settlements and fortifications, in many cases bloodlessly. She proved as capable as Edward in fulfilling the wishes of their father to bring all of England under Anglo Saxon control.
Another interesting wrinkle in the Edward and Aethelflaed relationship is that Edward’s son by his first wife Aethelstan was sent to Mercia to be raised by his aunt. Edward set his first wife aside to make a more advantageous, aristocratic alliance marriage. We can speculate that Aethelstan was originally sent to Mercia to eventually be named Aethelflaed’s heir, but in the end, despite his father having other “legitimate” sons by his other wives, Aethelstan emerged as the next king of Wessex. The story of Aethelstan is a fascinating one, and I have a biography of him enroute so I can continue my education regarding these early kings of England.
Three of Edward’s sons and two of his grandsons become king. The transition of power between Edward and Aethelstan was as seamless as it was from Alfred to Edward. Again, Edward had Aethelstan, even though he did spend a lot of time in Mercia, sign numerous charters that would indicate that Edward was preparing Aethelstan to ascend to the throne. Aethelstan would eventually conquer enough territory to refer to himself as the first king of England. He couldn’t have done that without his grandfather, father, and aunt paving the way for him. This family was just so impressive.
So even though Edward was overlooked historically, even to the point that another Edward came along in 1272 and declared himself Edward Ist, his contribution to English history should be as celebrated as the accomplishments of his father, sister, and son. Unfortunately, less is known about Edward than what we know of Alfred. He didn’t write a chronicle of his life. He might have simply been too distracted, or book learning might not have been as important to him. Maybe he just didn’t see himself in the same immortal way that Alfred did? Alfred knew and promoted his greatness, and maybe that was because he was the baby of the family and with four older brothers should have never even sniffed the throne, but once he had it, by God, he was going to keep it. Michael John Key relied on the ASC for much of his information, but he also pulled together some other reasonably reliable sources to give us the most accurate view of Edward the Elder available today. There are no statues of Edward in England or anywhere, but there really should be.
”I had always been interested in George III, that much-misunderstood man, in whom apparently contradictory characteristics were so often combined: goo”I had always been interested in George III, that much-misunderstood man, in whom apparently contradictory characteristics were so often combined: good-natured but obstinate, kind but severe, humane but unforgiving, stolid but with the occasional ability to deliver an unexpectedly sharp and penetrating insight.”
This all begins with Queen Anne dying without issue. Due to the passage of the Act of Settlement in 1701, only a Protestant was qualified to ascend to the throne of England. This leaves the Stuarts out in the cold, even though the self-styled James III, living in exile in Avignon, the son of the deposed Catholic king James II,considers himself the true king of England. He is called the Jacobite Pretender, and this sets off a series of Scottish rebellions ending in the marshy fields at Culloden in 1746 when Bonnie Prince Charlie, James’s son, leads his Scottish forces into the guns of the English with disastrous results.
The Stuarts cannot regain the throne through diplomatic means or through force, so that leaves us with the very German Protestant descendents of Anne, who are currently sitting on the throne of Hanover.
I’ve never been pleased that the English felt their only option was to put VERY German aristocrats on the throne of England. They didn’t even speak English until George III. They were in many ways anti-English, insisting that none of their children could marry into English families. In fact, they generally tried to find their children German husbands and wives. I find them, as a descendent of Plantagenets, frankly, intolerable. I understand the issues with putting a Catholic Stuart back on the throne, but seriously there had to be some English aristocrat with a royal bloodline who was Protestant.
George I, who really prefers to be in Hanover, is brought to England, and something else comes to light as to why the powers-that-be may have preferred a German king. This is the era of the rise of the power of Parliament. The Prime Minister is beginning to become the primary policy decision maker for the country. George isn’t quite a puppet or figurehead, but his powers are greatly reduced from the reign of Anne. How would he know anyway? The grumpy old bastard is too busy fighting with his heir, the future George II. There is a long tradition in Hanover with kings viciously arguing with and spurning their heirs. Obviously, none of them ever learned from how they were treated. None really attempted to break this ridiculous cycle of familial loathing. They became caricatures of the very people they used to despise, their fathers and grandfathers.
It’s madness.
I picked this book up because I didn’t really know much about the Hanoverians. My view of George III has always been colored by the Revolutionary War. He was not regarded very kindly by the rebels in America. He was always presented in my history classes as an oppressor and a crazed dunderhead. I realized that most of my impressions of him were formed by his enemies. Hardly fair, really. I felt this book would maybe right the ship and leave me with a more balanced view of George III. I also wanted to see the Revolutionary War from his perspective.
Janice Hadlow started out writing this book with more of an interest towards finding out more about the wives and families of the Hanovarian kings, and the book reflects this initial focus. Some of this is very fascinating, but certainly did not change my feelings too much towards the cold personalities of these distant, German Centric kings. They were capable of great kindness towards their families, but each story of kindness is offset by a story of narrow minded, controlling nastiness.
The biggest disappointment of the book for me was that Hadlow spent very little time on the Revolutionary War. It was over so quickly in her narrative that I assured myself she would return to this time period later in the book.
She did not.
George III and Queen Charlotte had fifteen kids, of which thirteen made it to adulthood. The two that died were both boys, but that still left six male heirs to the British crown. Two of those boys, George and William, became kings of England, but it was only Edward the Duke of Kent who managed to produce a legitimate heir to continue the royal line. This diminutive young girl became the renown Queen Victoria, who would prove to be as fertile as her grandmother Charlotte.
George and Charlotte had tried their best to produce the perfect, deliriously happy family life. They read books. They brought in experts, but in the end they produced very unhappy children, and a lot of that had to do with the iron control that was exerted on their daily lives. George, the heir, was kept in England, while his brothers were ordered to all corners of the world. The girls were kept penned up in England and became near spinsters before their father would deign to try and find them husbands. George, to further exert his control over his brood, had a law passed that his children could not marry without his consent. Many of them fell in love with various subjects of the English crown, but as I stated before, he refused to allow any of his children to marry someone from the very country he represented. This spawned clandestined, illegal marriages, illegitimate kids, and many tears and heartbreak.
The grand experiment in creating the perfect family life was a dismal failure.
I mentioned madness earlier. I have always assumed that the infamous madness of KIng George III was overblown. He was, after all, unlike his predecessors, an intelligent seeker of knowledge. I tried, unsuccessfully, to appreciate the man for his finer qualities. He was, if anything, marginally better. At least he could speak English and was the first of the Hanoverians to be born in England. George III was not just crazy. He was batshit crazy. He suffered from grand delusions and started to believe that he was married to an old flame rather than his wife of many decades. When he was allowed access to his daughters, he fondled them and had to be restrained. Needless to say, the man had no business being in charge of anything more complicated than his own bowel movements. He fell into this madness numerous times and should have been deposed in favor of his son, but politics played a part.
Parliament knew, if George IV were officially crowned, that there would be a shakeup in government. The son had favorites who were the political adversaries of the men in charge. Parliament held off allowing the change, hoping that III would rally, and he did, only to fall back into madness numerous times.
Madness was allowed to run amuck.
Hadlow tried to paint a more sympathetic view of the Hanovarians, but she didn’t really move me to change my original impressions of them. The best of them was the diminutive Victoria, who was really the first of the line to be a true English ruler, in my opinion. I am also a bit fond of the hapless Bertie, who had to follow in his mother’s footsteps, though perhaps a bit drunkenly. To bury their German heritage, George V changed the family name to Windsor, a good move given the number of British lads who died in the trenches trying to stop the Boche in WWI. We all, of course, like George VI who overcame a speech impediment to offer hope and comfort to a nation on the brink of catastrophic defeat during WW2. The royal Hanovarian family evolved into a symbol of what it means to be British.
English people like to proudly state that they have not been invaded since 1066, but I would assert that they were also invaded in 1714 when they opened their gates to the Hanoverians.
Even though I didn’t get what I wanted from this book, I have to say the impeccable research done by Hadlow is impressive. This will be considered the quintessential book on the family of George III. If anyone has any suggestions on the best book to explore the Revolutionary War from the perspective of the British, do please share.
”Alfred lived and died in the ninth century, a time when nearly every known individual is as much fable as fact. It was a mysterious age, before drago”Alfred lived and died in the ninth century, a time when nearly every known individual is as much fable as fact. It was a mysterious age, before dragons were confined to the pages of bestiaries, when saints walked the earth and when God proved his presence through almost daily miracles. But the God of the ninth century was as much a scourge as a comfort and his miracles were often set against a background of despair. For this was an era in which the established kingdoms of Europe faced a new and devastating enemy, who appeared without warning and who spread terror and misery without mercy.”
Alfred is the only British monarch that bears the epitaph of “Great.” If I had any doubts that he deserves that moniker, they have been duly laid to rest by this book. Without Alfred, a descendent of the Anglo Saxons, like myself, might very well have been speaking Danish today. Not that I have any problem with that because I actually like the Danish people, especially after they became a bit less blood thirsty.
These early English make it very easy for them. They build these nice monasteries and chapels, full of pretty bobbles, right along the coast in most places that make it very easy for the shallow, drafting Viking boats to pull up, almost as if it were a drive through for fast swag, and all they have to do is slice up a few unarmed monks. ”But what made this into a real booty bonanza was the fact that all these valuables were protected not by warriors or kings, not by the legendary Viking dragon Fafnir--slain for his treasure hoard by the hero Sigurd--but by monks. It really could not be easier.”
Then of course, they return home lugging all this church purloined plunder, brag about how easy it is to take, and more Viking ships head to England to seize their share of the bounty. The invaders of England have been emboldened.
I’ve always thought of Alfred as the first true king of England, though really he is more the king of Wessex, which is the last stronghold for the Anglo Saxons people. According to the chart of The Kings and Queens of England on the wall of my office, Ecgberht, Alfred’s grandfather, is the first acknowledged king of England. Then comes his father, Aethelwulf, who is followed by Alfred’s older brothers, Aethelberht and Aethelred, who each took a turn at the throne before meeting their own varied deaths. Finally, the baby of the family, Alfred, is the last one remaining. If I didn’t know the history of what type of leader Alfred becomes, I may be inclined to a King Johnesque shiver. What is interesting to me is that there are male heirs, sons of these kings, who are passed over. This will create issues for Alfred’s son, Edward, when he comes to the throne.
The Vikings hoards arrive every spring to devastate what they can and leave, or worse decide to stay. Some kings of the various provinces of England and France pay them to leave. This works but barely gives them a reprieve before another band of Vikings arrive demanding their cut of protection money.
The elders or aristocracy do not want a boy king. Under these trying circumstances, they want a man king, and Alfred is the best available choice. Alfred settles in and proves to be a competent king until disaster strikes. He is dethroned by Danish invaders and finds himself living in the fens and bogs, trying to stay one step ahead of his enemies. He is a hunted man in his own kingdom. Now interestingly enough, we don’t know who took over for Alfred, nor does my chart of the Kings and Queens of England have a listing for a Bjorn or a Guthrum, although there will be a series of Kings in the 11th century that bear names like Cnut, Harthacnut, and Harald.
We have to remember that, during this era, there is no sense of what it even means to be Anglo Saxon or even a thought for something called England. Alfred is the first king to start trying to define England and the people who populate her shores. He begins a guerrilla war campaign to wear down the Viking invaders and also to remind his people that he was their former and future king.
Alfred does regain power and decides that several things need to change for him to maintain control of his kingdom, but also keep his people safe so they can be productive without the constant shadow of a Viking sword looming over their heads. He creates burhs, which are fortifications set a certain distance from one another to make it so that, if one part of the kingdom is overrun, the rest can stay safe. It also creates a network of responses that allows one burh to come to the aid of another. He establishes new cities and designs their architectural layout.
Alfred is world building.
He also decides that something else is very important to his kingdom if he is ever going to achieve the society he envisions.
”Their mission, as he saw it, would be to restore Wessex to God’s favour, and to return Alfred’s people to the light of wisdom and Chrsitian truth. Wisdom was the medicine that he believed would ‘cure’ his country of heathen attack and he expressed his attitude towards it with great simplicity: ‘I can not find anything better in man than that he know, and nothing worse than he be ignorant.’”
He even begins to learn Latin so that he can translate the great books of the world so that his people can read them. Of course, he can also manipulate the translations to reflect his own personal beliefs.
Alfred is sick for the greater part of his adult life with stomach issues. There is some speculation that he was poisoned at a feast. Despite these physical limitations, he manages to find the energy he needs when his kingdom requires it the most. Bernard Cornwell brings him vividly to life in his Last Kingdom series, and the TV adaptation of his novels is superb. The idea I have of Alfred comes from Cornwell’s books, but Justin Pollard’s book has now added layers that allows me to see him in a larger context. I have an even better understanding of why he is Alfred the Great.
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David Dawson as King Alfred in the Last Kingdom series.
1066 is a meaningful date in history that should resonate with most people from their school days. It is, of course, the date of the last successful invasion of England. To call it an invasion might be a bit misleading. Approximately 7,000 Normans and a contingent of currish, opportunistic mercenaries from all over Europe with a penchant for rape and mayhem descended on England with the intention of staying...forever.
Well, at least until the spoils of war are racked, stacked, and carted back to Normandy.
Harold Godwinesson is king of England. In his haste to be coronated, he may have been chased up the church stairs by the last breath of his predecessor, Edward the Confessor. I really enjoy the way that Marc Morris explains the political maneuverings of the Godwine family and their relationship to a series of unsettled kings of England. While the senior Godwin is alive, one could not be king of England without a nod from the Godwines. They may have been at their best being King Makers, but due to the uncertain circumstances surrounding the secession upon Edward’s death, Harold is the best option, who also has the advantage of living in England. Edward has married Harold’s sister, but spawns no children, by most accounts because he is too pious to sleep with her. It is a marriage that has been thrust upon him, which would have put a Godwine on the throne if only Edward would have cooperated with a bit of beastly tango between the sheets.
That doesn’t work, so the next option is to just take the throne.
Harald Sigurdsson of Norway asserts that he had a deal with a past king of England to be king upon the death of Edward. William of Normandy asserts that Edward had promised him the throne and that Harold Godwinesson had sworn an oath to uphold his right to the throne.
These weak cases are made by strong, dangerous leaders which might have been the reason Harold is in such a hurry to get the coronation done.
Edward has more reasons to despise the Godwine family beyond their wealth, influence with the nobles, and their ability to push him around. Godwin, Harold’s father, had blinded and killed Edward’s brother, Alfred. It was one of the many power struggles for the crown between the descendents of King Cnut. Godwin had picked a side, and Alfred had become a nuisance. One of those dirty jobs a noble might perform to curry favor and influence with the man in power. After all, Godwin knew where the bodies are buried.
The politics in Normandy are no less gory or murky. Frankly, it is a bloody miracle that William lived long enough to ever conceive a conquest of England. There are mafia style hits between the aristocracy of Normandy that create bloody feuds that, at times, splash a bit of blood on the hem of William’s tunic. His life is almost constantly in danger. He also has serious problems with Flanders and France, both of which would have preferred a weaker duke on the throne of Normandy.
Needless to say, he learns to be ruthless, conniving, and controlling by the time he decides to invade England. He also proves himself a successful leader of men in battle. He must have borne a commanding presence because he manages to convince men to make the trip across the water to help him achieve goals that are not necessarily strategically sound.
The providence of the fates helps him immensely. Just before William launches his invasion, Harald Sigurdsson of Norway lands on English soil first. Harold, barely out of his coronation robes, finds himself having to meet a large force of Vikings, led personally by Sigurdsson and by Harold’s brother Tostig. There are many Godwinesson brothers; some might say too many, and for political reasons Harold has not supported Tostig on a land claim with Edward. The falling out results in this family civil war that could have ramifications on all of England.
Harold wins the Battle of Stamford Bridge. He barely has time to hoist a few beers in celebration before he has to march his army to face William of Normandy.
Now the interesting thing about the Battle of Hastings is that Harold does not need to win this battle. All he has to do is survive it. William needs to win this battle, or all hope of conquering the kingdom of England and making it his own will be dashed upon the cliffs of Dover. As long as Harold is alive, he is the king of England and can rally more troops and fight however many battles he needs to push the Normans out of England.
The problem is, according the Bayeux Tapestry, Harold catches an arrow in the eye that proves fatal. Other sources say that William, with a contingent of knights, rides him down and cuts him to pieces. Regardless of how he dies, the cold hard fact is that he dies and leaves England in the hands of the Conqueror.
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Harold is the chap clutching the arrow stuck in his eye.
Some of the Normans come to stay, finding the gifts of land too enticing to return to Normandy. Others take what spoils they can carry off with them and quickly return to Normandy. Others beg William to be allowed to return to their homes in Normandy. They are afraid that it is only a matter of time before they catch an Anglo-Saxon arrow in the back or a piece of sharpened steel in the belly. The Normans deal with constant upheaval and revolution, and they handle those manners very severely, by razing the countryside, killing, and maiming the population in horrific, creative ways. They want to squelch rebellion and make sure it can’t spark again from the same region.
Frankly, they probably need to be this way to have any hope of keeping England under the control of Normans.
The baffling thing for me is that England never really unites under a strong leader. One just never emerges. If someone had been charismatic and determined enough to step into Harold’s shoes and rally the Anglo-Saxons, William’s victory at Hastings might have proved a short lived one.
Marc Morris researches all the sources of all the writers who wrote about this period. He weighs their biases, tosses aside the obvious hyperbole, and wiggles the truth, as best he can, from what is left. This era of English history is fascinating, and Morris pumps blood, gristle, and bone into the characters populating these stories, making them live and breath so convincingly that I frequently thought I’d fallen through a wormhole into the 11th century.
I’ve always had a soft spot for Harold and found William to be too brutish to be likeable, but after reading this book, I have a better understanding of why things happened the way they did and developed a grudging respect for William the Conqueror, despite the grisly tactics he employed to maintain power. He had an eye on the future, and it is hard to know if England would have ever become England if she hadn’t been invaded by not only Normans but the ideas they brought with them.
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