Well, it seems that England would not be at peace until one side annhilates the other.
Lovely.
Lovely.
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What is needed is a unifying mission, something that any true Englishman would prioritise over petty squabbles. The solution is obvious - War with France.
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Tall order, seeing as James II personally executed the previous Scot she shared a bed with.
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The hamburg's really did nearly create a universal monarchy for a good few decades there. Problem was Europe was far too large to rule by one government at the tech level they had, and personal unions don't necessarily hold to actual political unions unless one side supremely overpowers rhe other.
Now...the Spanish crown should have been able to do that given that they had unlimited wealth for over a century, but they didn't understand basic economics and so eventually went bankrupt.
Meanwhile the ottomans distracted Vienna side long enough for brandenburg to become a problem, and the Spanish, French, Dutch etc hamburg's to nearly go extinct.
Not entirely sure why he...
Ah yes. Still very creepy, that.
Unfortunately France is so weak that the English have gotten their half back with no problems, and the other half requires fighting some other European powers. So yes, to fully annexed France, they'll need to unite...but everyone who actually benefits from having French lands already has them by now so...
It'll only be useful if Richard actually does become king and then needs an enemy to fight. Only Scotland is a much better target both because England can easily annex rhem and they're protecting the whore Queen.
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That hardly counts, I mean everybody had killed an Earl of Douglas. It was a popular hobby that everybody (bar the victim) could enjoy, after the Scots outlawed both Football and Golf they needed something to pass the time.
This is true. And of course an enemy led by a King who was blown up by his own cannon or his even less competent son probably is an easier target as well.
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To all - and interesting that claims have been in discussion as the next scene looks at some of that.
Exactly.
No matter how proper a claim, I don't think the English were ready yet to accept a foreign King. Even when the Stuarts inherited, they were not as foreign as a Spanish King. And of course, by then Spain was a mortal enemy. However, they did technically have the blood royal thanks to John of Gaunt.
Margaret has done a fine job of using Somerset's hatred of Warwick to keep him to her side. Yes, and also her bed.
That is not an untrue statement.
You may be right, but we are not nearly to a place for that at the moment.
That's true.
England has only regained Maine and Cherbourg. There is still a good bit of Normandy to get back as well as in the south (especially if we wanted to go back to the Angevin empire.)
I'm not certain who you find more distasteful - the French or the Scots. @El Pip answers "Yes."
To all - and interesting that claims have been in discussion as the next scene looks at some of that.
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Stafford Castle, September 1460
It was another marriage. Different from the second in nearly every way. Entirely removed from the first if that ever even existed. Now Margaret Beaufort was just turned eighteen and was marrying a man eighteen more years her senior. Old enough to be her own father so long gone to God. Though difficult to leave Jasper Tudor and his kindness, she and her young son had little choice. These were times of trouble and the previous suggested match with the Duke of Buckingham’s son was the only safe measure.
Even for these differences as well as his seeming reticence, Sir Henry Stafford had so far been a perfect host. Now thirty five and still not married, he was especially keen to carry on the family name. His reputation as a rogue was deserved. Though highly minded of his father’s pursuits, and as the second son of a great family, he gravitated to others of like spirit such as Sir William Stanley. After the death of his father at Northampton, Henry Stafford would see his five year old nephew become Duke of Buckingham and already named Earl of Stafford while he himself was still a mere knight. The future was now and this match would cement his place in what was to come.
The two looked to each other as the priest said his words and then they too answered in the affirmative. Their eyes matched and for a moment, the hint of a smile. Within an hour it was done. Few were there to watch it due to the times, but Baron Lionel Welles had escorted his step daughter and was jovial in the after.
“My Lady’s mother is so very proud, sir. Especially as you have treated us as such honored guests,” the Baron suggested as the small party retired to the solar.
Sir Henry moved swiftly to pour himself wine as he replied, “I would wish mine own Lady mother here yet she remains to such grief.”
“That is to be expected,” Lord Welles answered as he gestured to Margaret, “Is it not terribly sad?”
She allowed a nod and replied in a solemn voice, “The Lord of Buckingham was a great man of this realm, sir. His passing is felt by all.”
“Yes...indeed,” Sir Henry kept his gaze to the drink, “All manner of changes in such short time.”
Baron Welles agreed, “That is the truth. My Lady wife is frightened witless, sir. I’ve left Lady Margaret’s brother with her to calm her spirits, yet...we list as an unmoored ship.”
“Yet who to tie us up safely to the dock?” Sir Henry turned with question, “Mine own cousin swears to this new regime short lived though it may be. My brother John is prostrate with pain as are all of my sisters. And my poor nephew...he holds no idea of the role he may play if any.”
Margaret spoke softly, “Such roles would not be known until time...husband. The little ones are as yet still pure and untouched.”
“And so many others are not,” Henry looked to her with a quizzical eye.
Baron Welles moved away from that topic, “As the Earl of Pembroke suggests, sir...this is a time for a meeting of the minds. And goals. He is stuck defending Harlech Castle from the supporters of York while the Duke carries forth through Ludlow and on to Hereford. At each step, he gathers more round him and it is even said that he carries along with his sword held aloft and in all of his finery. His very livery is said to be embroidered with the fetterlock, sir. As he has used these in the past, there can be no mistake. These are symbols first used by John of Gaunt and this Duke’s own uncle, Edward of Norwich, grandson of Edward III.”
“Indeed...why not a sprig of genista to complete the message?” Henry suggested, “There is no mistaking it.”
“Which is why I have been contacted,” the Baron revealed, “I come not only as a proud father, but so too as messenger.”
Henry skewed a brow as he pointed to Margaret, “You are not her father.”
“Nay, sir...” Welles gave nod, “...yet I do wish to please her mother. These are dire times, sir. It is no moment to forget from whence you came.”
“My Lady Margaret?” Henry turned to her with a kind eye, “Do you forget?”
Margaret looked up with a proud face, “My father was John Beaufort, grandson of John of Gaunt and great grandson to King Edward named the third.”
“Quite so, Lord Welles,” Sir Henry Stafford turned once more, “In truth, as I am sure you know, I too hold such lineage. The Lady and I are both descended from Edward III as he is our great great grandfather. In fact, it comes to me from both sides as my father could trace his line through his own mother and my mother is a Neville Beaufort, cousin to my Lady that sits here now. It was no easy task to get Papal dispensation, yet my father desired the match and even settled land to us in his will.”
“As he should have,” the Baron gave nod.
Margaret Beaufort allowed a smile, “Indeed, step father...what is it that you ask of us?”
“I ask of your Lord husband of which way he looks, my Lady,” Welles answered her but she held more question.
“We are but newly wed, sir. Should we not hold time together and embrace our fortune?”
Baron Welles tired of her speech, “Come now, Margaret. We speak of war and not some garden party celebration. You’ve been married again. Be proud of it. It is what your mother wanted. Yet it comes at a difficult time.”
“I rather think my Lady correct,” Sir Henry stepped to him, “I am but a meager knight, my Lord. And she? Passed around so poorly. We should like to make a life for ourselves, methinks. Do you not?”
Welles pressed, “York marches upon London, sir! Tudor is to Wales and though Somerset returns, he cannot do all alone.”
“Yet...” Margaret spoke up, “...where be Wiltshire, sir? Oxford? Devon or Northumberland? These are all Earls and as my husband prays tell, he is not one.”
“He is a member of House Stafford,” the Baron reminded them both, “As such, his want is desired.”
Sir Henry allowed a slim smile, “There is minor, sir...and then there is myself. A cadet branch can so easily be led astray. Look you to my cousin named for my father. He follows Warwick, I am told. For myself? For my Lady wife? I think to keep my powder dry, as they say. We shall see in future the result of House Stafford.”
“Tarry not long, sir!” Lord Welles grew serious, “These scoundrels hold to them the very King. If there ever was a time of choosing, it is now.”
Margaret smiled to him, “And you, sir, have given away the bride. Now...may we have some peace?”
The Baron could only bow and leave the solar causing the two of them to grin at each other. Sir Henry shifted to sit next to Lady Margaret, “That’s him told.”
“I am surprised, sir,” Margaret was suddenly shy, “I did not think that you wanted me.”
Henry leaned back with a concerned eye, “Shall I tell you the truth?”
“I should like that among anything,” she answered.
The knight leaned in again and gently held to her shoulder, “Then the truth is that I did not. You hold a son from Tudor and now twice married already. When my father suggested it, I scoffed. Argued even. I did so until the day he died, God rest his precious soul. And then I realized...I am to be the one to follow him. I’ll not have the title, yet I will always hold his name.”
“A name is very important,” Margaret looked to him with curiosity.
Henry followed, “Yes it is. And ours more than most.”
“I might...have assumed after what happened to your Lord father the Duke...” Margaret questioned, “...that you might be well ready to avenge his death. Are you not?”
“There is vengeance aplenty in this world,” he replied, “I’ll leave that to Somerset or Northumberland. Men with causes. I mourn my father, that be no doubt. He was a great man. Yet his time had passed. We enter into convenience, my Lady. Though I do hope...mayhap in time?”
Margaret lowered her head in sorrow, “I think never to have a child again, sir. My first was...harmful.”
“Yet a bright child,” Henry allowed, “Not cheerful...but yours. As I have no children of mine own...”
She looked to him with a stern eye, “You know that I love another. Why would you have me?”
“Because we are better than the rest, my Lady Beaufort,” Sir Henry held his new wife’s hand, “Of greater stock and as much pedigree as any other that may lay claim. Though I be not Duke, I remain with extensive lands. Though I be not Lord, I am the Stafford that matters now. We will be wooed, you and I. I believe better together than apart. And in time...I endeavor to mayhap change your mind on the other?”
Margaret held his hand tightly, “You do not know all of my history, sir.”
“I am not Edmund Tudor...Margaret,” Sir Henry Stafford answered with an honest face, “I will wait for you.”
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Huh. Is that talk of refusing the throne to Margaret's illegitimate child if Henry dies? A split among the Lancastrians could make things very interesting... especially if Margaret keep some support. Is a three-way civil war possible?
Wait. There is more than one potential claimant here. Maybe there will be more than three sides? That could be interesting.
Wait. There is more than one potential claimant here. Maybe there will be more than three sides? That could be interesting.
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Sir Henry Stafford just seems far too nice for this work, despite the quite unpleasant hand he has been dealt. As it stands he is looking at raising someone elses bastard child with a wife who is in love with someone else and couldn't give him an heir in any event, though given their close blood relations this is perhaps for the best.
At least the two of them are honest with each other, which is not to be sniffed at, though I do still feel quite sorry for Sir Henry. I'm mildly impressed with him for taking it so well, had it been me I'd have taken advantage of Buckingham snuffing it to find an alternate match.
At least the two of them are honest with each other, which is not to be sniffed at, though I do still feel quite sorry for Sir Henry. I'm mildly impressed with him for taking it so well, had it been me I'd have taken advantage of Buckingham snuffing it to find an alternate match.
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Fb-fb:
Sir Henry may appear nice, but he's also perhaps more patient than some others (as is Margaret.)
I'm not sure I'd say a three way civil war, but it does suggest that there will always be another to question whomever is in power.
The match itself, as suggested, could prove quite powerful given their lineage. Or...it could prove quite deleterious if someone wished to snuff out anyone with a whiff of the blood royal.
Sir Henry may appear nice, but he's also perhaps more patient than some others (as is Margaret.)- 1
The best way to avoid Margaret B suffering from another childbirth is mercifully poisoning, beheading or quartering her.
Less pain for her. Be kind, sir.
Less pain for her. Be kind, sir.
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Tis true, but as she says - she likely will never have another child as the first time rather destroyed her in that department.
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Blackness Castle, Scotland, October 1460
King James II of Scotland took great pains to enter the hall on a cane and with slow steps. He did not like this castle as it held many of his enemies, yet this one was peculiar. Having regained some strength from his illness, this was one that was required. And beautiful too.
“Your Grace...my Queen of England...you honor us all!” the Scots King exclaimed as he slowly moved in his infirmity.
Margaret of Anjou held her son the Prince close to her chest as she tried to smile, “Your Grace! I am but a humble pilgrim.”
“Shall we do away with bows and all that?” James questioned in humor, “I fear my legs will give out.”
Margaret tried to be mindful, “I was sorry to hear of your injury. The Queen did say.”
“She is ever loving, my Mary,” the King finally found a chair and sat with a thud, “She worries about me so.”
“As any wife would her husband,” Margaret replied with her head held high.
James looked to her with interest, “You made quite an impression upon her. And my Lady wife is a good judge of character.”
“I should hope it so,” Margaret followed and sat with young Edward still to her arms, “We are kept to here and this one is away from his lands.”
James grinned to young Prince Edward, “Is Scotland so rough as that, sir? If you are to be King, you’ll likely spend some time to here.”
“It is a beautiful land,” Edward replied.
Margaret held her son closer, “And he would see it as King. Not this other.”
“I’ve been most keen to meet you, madame Marguerite d'Anjou,” the Scots King gestured for a drink, “Your tales to here are legendary.”
“Do they proceed me well?” the Queen found a grin, “Liars abound, my Lord.”
James was given a cup and laughed, “Some few, my Lady. Mayhap not so for my cousin...yet he was always led astray.”
“And you have found yours as my Lord husband would do in England,” Margaret replied with more seriousness, “You need not my words to his plight. I am sure you know them well.”
The Scots King drank of his ale and considered it for a time before giving answer, “My Lord King Henry...what’s to become of him? Such a pious man...yet he is no ruler. I’d think York better in that charge. I have met him and he is...singular.”
Margaret narrowed her brow, “Then why am I here? As prisoner so that you might link arms with a traitor to his King? Is that the sort of thing you would wish to be known for here in your own realm?”
“Take me not wrong, madam,” James held up a hand, “I’m not here to choose a side. I merely wished a glimpse of you.”
“Then you’ve seen me!” Margaret stood and stepped in front of her son, “What will you do?!”
James grinned as he looked on her, “You hold a fire, lass. And you’re not even a ginger.”
“I am French, monsieur!” Margaret replied strongly, “And my father is King Rene d’Anjou!”
The Scots King nearly spit his drink such was his laughter, yet he tempered it with another grin, “And I thought my forebears poor as mere stewards!”
“You would taunt me now?” Margaret questioned, “In my state?”
King James sighed, “Your husband the King is clearly not a laughing man.”
“Nor is he a happy one,” Margaret pressed, “He is held hostage, sir. An anointed King! Does that not give you pause?!”
He waved a calming hand to the air, “Yes...yes it does. No sovereign should find such peril. And for that, my Lady Queen...I shall give to you something.”
“I might think everything...Your Grace,” Margaret placed hands to her hips, “For if York does win, he will come for you as he has for us.”
James held silent for a time before answering, “You ask...a lot, madam. Though my wife finds you dear, she’s not the ruler of this realm. Yet that she loves you, I would give to you a gift. No thing more. I think not...the time to haggle?”
“What else am I to do?” Margaret held firm, “I am more the sovereign of my Kingdom than mine own husband!”
“That may well be your trouble,” James suggested.
Margaret scoffed, “Please, sir! If you knew him you would not say so. I am the only hope of his people for I hold his child with me. My Lord husband is...disturbed. All require the solid hand of this boy behind me. That is the future of England.”
“You are tenacious,” James considered her with a curious brow, “Yet one does wonder why he loves you so?”
She was plain in response, “My husband loves everyone...equally. It is maddening!”
“I imagine it is,” James gave nod, “And so here is what I may give to you. In return for Berwick, I shall offer you three hundred Scottish men at arms and even the Earls of Douglas and Angus to assist you along with their retainers.”
Margaret crossed her arms and peered closely, “Can you not do five hundred?”
“Very well,” James smiled, “I’ll make it five hundred and an added loan to hire mercenaries to the continent. I know the ‘auld alliance’ ain’t what it used to be, yet if you could convince your uncle?”
“King Charles of France is not at a place...” Margaret began but he stopped her.
“Neither are you.”
She finally gave nod, “I would send word to my uncle.”
“I would send it with all speed, my Lady,” James grew serious, “For I have one more demand. You will leave this realm with all that I give to you and do not return unless you bring a King to mine eyes.”
“I would...” Margaret started to say but was interrupted once more.
James was forceful even in his infirmity, “I said a King, Your Grace. These are matters best left to men.”
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Actually rather sensible of Scotland. Give the Queen a token force, then banish her from the realm. She probably won't win, and just slow York down in coming after him, but if she does win, or stablemates the civil war, all the better for Scotland.
But also good news for the yorkists looking for more things to hurl at the Queen. Going to the Scots to invade England with a foreign army? Tsk tsk
But also good news for the yorkists looking for more things to hurl at the Queen. Going to the Scots to invade England with a foreign army? Tsk tsk
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James is in a funny position. Richard of York is going to after him whatever he does. So he gives Dick more reasons to reduce Scotland to ashes by helping Maggie. Good.
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Fb-fb:
It is one of Margaret's great failings. She simply does not understand the English mood not just of the Scots but so too many of those in the north of England. She only thinks of what can help her, not the realm.
Indeed he does for she told him.
Especially in this timeline, it does not make much sense for the Scots to want to ally with France, but I kept with it. That said, you and others are right. If Richard comes to power, he is going to want to hit Scotland eventually. James may be playing for time here. And also, may see what a ticking time bomb is this Margaret of Anjou. As he said, he wants to see the King, whomever it is.
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Why does the King of Scotland think that an attack on him is imminent? I understand why it would be now (aiding enemies of the crown), but he seemed to think it was inevitable even if he refused to aid Margaret. For that matter, why keep Margaret in comfortable arrest as a bargaining chip?
Are France and Scotland still allied here?
Are France and Scotland still allied here?
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In game, yes Scotland and France start the game as allies. And historically, the border between England and Scotland remains troublesome. I think James sees that Richard is likely to win out here and knows that he is not going to be as meek as Henry is as King. The threat of invasion is ever present (and frankly, on both sides.) As to how he handles Margaret, notice that he gains Berwick as the trade off for helping her. Nothing changed in game, but this is what she historically did. Yet another poor choice on her part.
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Abingdon, October 1460
“I cannot believe that you bring Herbert back to your train,” Cecily held to her husband as if not to let go, “You know my opinion of him.”
Richard embraced his wife in the bed and grinned, “After all this time, Cis...you would worry about that man? That is the last to my mind.”
She looked up to his chin and smiled as she rested upon his bare chest, “Yet the first may be a new little one, my Lord. Our Richard is nearing nine.”
“My Queen should have whatever she desires,” he replied and kissed her cheek.
She nestled with him in thought, “Do you think it wise though...all of these trappings?”
“Did you not enjoy your canopy, my sweet?” the Duke questioned with a grin, “Or your horsemen? Four in total and it cost me quite the coin.”
“Speak not to me of cost, Dickon,” Cecily twisted some few hairs to his chest, “Every single bit is for one thing more. Our appearance is everything.”
Richard of York laughed and held her closer, “I recall when first we knew we would have a child...and your manner has not changed.”
“Edward has done well, hasn’t he?” she looked to the window as she brushed her husband’s face with a caring hand.
“Is he outside now? Must I see him?” the Duke jested.
“No, dear...” Cecily lifted in the bed and looked to is eyes, “...yet I believe him raised. Is he not your son in every way? Looks to your cause as if it his own.”
Richard grimaced, “He is too strong in the head.”
“Pshaw!” Cecily leaned away and lifted her feet over the bed, “Your own skull is as hard as a rock, sir. Never pretty but mine own. And so is our son’s.”
“I will be pleased to see him,” the Duke looked to the ceiling.
Cecily bathed herself from a bowl under her shift as she continued, “He is bright, sir. In his short time here, he finds affinity with Kendal and especially Surrey. The younger ones, sir. Scrope and Say...Audley too. He attempts even with Devon.”
“These are not boarding house gatherings,” Richard sat up in the bed and scratched at his rugged face, “He’ll do, yet it is with the older set.”
“Yet what of Ed?” Cecily questioned as she moved to a slight table and powdered her face, “He has been with you all of this time. What has he learned?”
Richard lifted his own legs over the bed in thought, “He is very studious, our son. Edmund is a good boy. Very loyal.”
“You are choosing favorites, sir!” Cecily turned in her chair with a harsh eye, “All of our children are equally surpassing. Anne is the bravest of them all for what she withstood. Lillibet and Meg...their father’s daughter. George and Richard...young troopers, my Lord, and value you in every way. And both Edward and Edmund are our prize and our joy.”
The Duke sighed as he rubbed at his knee, “One listens. One does not.”
“And one is an heir, sir,” Cecily held her gaze, “Built for it and provides a thing that you cannot.”
Richard turned to her with hurt, “What do I lack, wife?!”
“Humor...husband,” she moved from her seat and sat next to him on the bed, “Good cheer, sir. Youth and vigor. All of the things lacking these many years.”
After their long marriage, Richard knew when his wife was jesting with him and he held to her knee with love, “You would put me out to pasture already?”
“Nay, sir!” Cecily was certain, “I would have you take what is owed.”
Richard looked to her with loving care, “You think that he pulls all round? May gather these Lords?”
She brushed his cheek before holding it close, “Everything that you may have ever wanted is in front of you, husband. All of your life’s work. That which you were born to and is deserved. It is time enough to see what land we shall have when good men reign.”
“Henry is a good man,” Richard replied, “Mayhap the best of us all.”
Cecily held her face close to his, “Does it matter, sir? What is best and what is right? I should not have to relitigate the case for I am no lawyer. We are all harmed by actions that do not come from him. The entire realm. Someone must rule. I see no other before me...my Lord.”
He rubbed at his knee again and then stood slowly from the bed. He considered a cup but then turned back to his wife, “It will be no easy thing, Cis. I will be questioned. Again.”
“Good!” she replied quickly, “For let us make no mistake, husband. You should be the rightful King!”
Richard grimaced, “I wish not to be King. I only wish…”
“Yes, indeed Dickon...good governance,” Cecily stood to him, “All know it. And no one will do it but you. And you know that.”
“I will be questioned,” he stated once more.
Cecily was right with him, “Then answer! Our first son is charming and our second is pious mayhap. Best of both worlds. Our daughters are pristine and our youngest the best of the future. It is the opposite of what is presented at the now. A whore claims a son by an usurper’s kin. If there is reason that this world is in peril, it is that very thing. God has punished us, sir. For our transgression. We must make it right.”
“When did you start listening to priests?” Richard looked to his wife with a curious eye.
She wasted no moment, “When they explained the theological case...for you.”
Richard looked to her with love, “And you would rather not go to pasture ourselves and enjoy those golden years as you have suggested?”
“I hold no choice,” Cecily touched his cheek and smiled, “And you hold not one either. We are made for this, sir. All of us. You are the rightful sovereign, husband. There can be no other!”
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