'She is the best of the modern chroniclers of these mediaeval wars . . . beautifully written, politically astute and full of insight into the moments when great history meets fragile human hearts.' The Times
Margaret Beaufort and Margaret of Anjou - two women who have fought to the bitter end to see their sons take the English throne.
But with her son Edward killed in battle, and imprisoned herself, what next for Margaret of Anjou? And will Margaret Beaufort live to see Richard III deposed, and her son Henry Tudor finally ascend the throne? In this powerful and dramatic conclusion to Livi Michael's Wars of the Roses trilogy, the stakes are higher than ever, the sides are ever-changing, and all will be decided at the Battle of Bosworth . . .
I love the way that Livi Michael incorporates contemporary (or near enough) sources into this, her own chronicle of the Wars of the Roses. This final part of the trilogy completes the story of Henry Tudor's rise to power, fulfilling the ambitions of the heroine of the saga - Henry's mother Margaret Beaufort. Excellent!
Historical fiction is a genre overpopulated with fluffy romances which fail to capture the steel required to survive in a period of long-term civil war. Livi Michael's spectacular trilogy has always felt like a breath of fresh air; with the two preceding novels, Succession and Rebellion, the stage was set for Henry VI to fall, Edward IV to rise and now with this, the conclusion to the trilogy, a new Henry readies himself for the final battle. The pieces which were flung into the air with the first book are coming back down to rest, but yet it was in this period that several of the most notorious incidents of the conflict occurred. Michael is venturing into territory which has been written, rewritten, squabbled over, disputed, subjected to official inquiry, squabbled over some more and which even a couple of years ago culminated in a man who had been dead for five hundred years being given a state funeral where people attended in black with somber expressions. So how did Michael choose to interpret events?
The focus of the trilogy has always been Margaret Beaufort and it is not surprising that Accession opens with her, lying awake at night and thinking, as she always did, of her son. The ravenous mother-love that seems to have powered Margaret Beaufort has puzzled many other historical fiction writers, given what a great portion of her life she spent separated from him, but Michael has always depicted the relationship deftly, with the two coming so close to being together time and again and then always the wider conflict always striking them apart. Margaret knows that it is too late now for her to be the mother she wanted to be but still her ever step, every thought is for him. The sense of fatigue as she realises that she needs to marry again is perfectly caught - Margaret has been married since she was six and she is utterly fed up of the estate, but needs must and with poor grace, she heads back into the melee.
Of course, there is another famous Margaret within the Wars of the Roses, Margaret of Anjou, and Michael tries to imagine what her life must have been after the Battle of Tewkesbury, when she lost the battle, lost the kingdom, lost her son. Through the eyes of Alice Chaucer, the former queen's former lady-in-waiting now charged to stand as gaoler, we observe this once great lady made small. Michael's great talent lies in her ability to take the bare facts of the chronicles and give them life and so we see Lady Alice fretting over what would be least offensive tapestry to hang in Margaret's chamber and what on earth would be appropriate conversation topics given that the two of them were going to be having to spend an undetermined and possibly indefinite amount of time together. Lady Alice knows that nobody would reproach her as negligent if Margaret of Anjou died in her care - the news might in fact be welcomed. The former queen has passed beyond the point of anybody's interest. Of no political use, when Margaret comments to Lady Alice that she does not think she will marry again, Lady Alice has to stop herself from responding that nobody would want her. It is a strange thing to imagine a life for a woman who was not old, not ill and yet was utterly spent. There would be no more battles for Margaret of Anjou, no more armies to raise, no more children. She simply had to put the time in between Tewkesbury and her death. Written without any melodrama, Michael's description of this existence made me shudder.
Elsewhere in the Yorkist camp, Edward IV and his queen Elizabeth continue to move further apart, the bond sparked by lust turned cold by his infidelity and her ambition. The cluster of their children seem to be a safeguard against future political strife, but some have other ideas. There is the sputtering threat of George of Clarence, brother to the king and perennial troublemaker. The pain here is what is felt by their mother Cecily, wanting to protect her golden boy - and while Edward may be angry at his mother for loving George more, he cannot but feel a guilt in causing her grief. But it is not his wife who will comfort him, but rather his mistress Jane Shore. As Michael draws him, Edward IV is a man overwhelmed by the office he bears, torn between the will of his own family and what his wife's family would have him do - he is not man enough to wear the crown and feels lost in his role as king.
Yet still, there are moments from court life which do stand out - as the court watches the four year old Prince Richard marry the six year-old Anne Mowbray, Margaret Beaufort cringes as she remembers being married at that age to John de la Pole - the union was annulled not long afterwards though and during the ceremony, the two are careful to avoid each other's eye. Accession seems slightly more reliant on the chronicles than its predecessors, with a slightly steeper bent towards the non-fiction as it lists alliances and allegiances made and then broken. It is difficult though when dealing with a period this complex to maintain that lightness of touch which has made this trilogy so distinctive and memorable - but this is a minor point.
The downfall of the Woodvilles is handled with an unusual subtlety - as Anthony Woodville tries to do the right thing and to maintain order, we feel the astonishment along with him as events overtake him. Indeed, it is a little innovative in itself to have the Woodvilles portrayed as anything other than jumped-up power-hungry nobodies, but in the brief glimpses that we get, Anthony Woodville is a good man and his fate feels undeserved. So often when dealing with the Wars of the Roses, historical fiction writers are unable to keep themselves from 'picking a side' (*cough* Gillipa Phregory *cough*) but Michael seems content to stand more on the sidelines. When the priest explains that twenty years before, he had secretly married Edward IV to Eleanor Butler, we hear as he expresses inward relief that his story has seemed credible, but the point is not over-emphasised. Similarly, Michael does not let her story get too far drawn into the debate over what befell the two Princes in the Tower. As far as the 'changeling' theory goes concerning whether it really was Prince Richard who entered the Tower, Michael shows Elizabeth Woodville's agony as she is ordered to hand over her second son, but not only is she not sure what is going to happen, the child wants to go to his brother, to leave sanctuary. She gives him up. She has no choice. It is not her fault. But this is not a novel about those two poor boys.
Threaded all the way through has been the story of young Henry Tudor, exiled and generally imprisoned abroad. He becomes a man while a stranger from his own land. He is given everything he could possibly want and treated with the highest respect but still he knows that there is a reckoning to be had. There is no real other way out of his situation than gaining the crown. Victory or nothing at all - and as a man, he will not even be granted the half-life inflicted upon Margaret of Anjou. It will be the axe. In our twenty-first century world of certainties, it is strange to think of someone having to bank all their hopes on something so subject to chance. Henry Tudor can plan all he wants, get all the men he possibly can, but his first invasion attempt is scuppered (literally) due to the weather.
Back in England, Jane Shore's life is made more complicated by the men who have entered her life in the wake of the old king's death, culminating in her infamous penance walk. It is interesting to contrast Michael's muted interpretation of this with the baroque version depicted by Game of Thrones a couple of years ago. Here, Jane Shore is allowed to keep her shift on, she carries a lighted taper and a kindly flower-seller scatters a posy in her path, then a man lies down his cloak for her to walk on. For all the cruelty, Michael never denies that there was also humanity. Indeed, with plots being discussed indirectly over chess, under cover of visits from physicians - the whirrings of rebellion continue on through this book with little loyalty and few scruples. Margaret Beaufort has cause to doubt her final choice of husband as Lord Stanley sets out to prove his loyalty to Richard III. Imprisoned in her own home, there are times when she seems to have been as out-manoeuvred as the former queen who shared her name.
The only part of the novel which I truly struggled with was the way in which Michael depicted Elizabeth of York. Having read the disclaimer which Richard III signed in order to get his nieces and their mother to agree to leave sanctuary, it was clear that he knew that he had given them no reason to trust him - he had openly killed their half-brother, their uncle and taken their brother's throne. These were all points of fact. It is not hard to imagine the young Elzabeth determining to survive in her uncle's court, or even that she tried to comfort her recently bereaved aunt, the new queen. What did stretch my credulity was the idea that she could be so easily seduced by her uncle. Having read Alison Weir's Elizabeth of York, the evidence supporting her having genuine feelings for him is slender at best and struck a strange note within a series which has always been about humanising the events of the chronicles. Even if Richard III had not ordered the deaths of the young princes, he had done quite enough other things to earn his niece's distrust. I have never believed Richard III to have been unusually evil for his age, but he was a king in a time when this was not a task for the soft-hearted - indeed, the most genuinely sweet-natured monarch was probably Henry VI and his reign was not known for being a golden age.
Michael has shown vividly in this trilogy how one could go from hero to zero, or rather from monarch to fugitive. With Accession, she reverses the process. When Henry Tudor is fleeing Brittany, his commoner guide castigates him as a 'foreign leech' who has been 'eating and drinking - paying no taxes - doing no work - who do you think you are?' When Henry replies that he thinks he is king, Perrin responds 'And I'm the Virgin Mary' and tells him to go and 'bleed your own country dry.' How ludicrous that someone could go from being a beggar in one place to a king in another. When Perrin asks Henry to describe his claim to the throne, it is convoluted in the extreme - nobody could have anticipated that it would work. But it did, an event truly stranger than fiction. Michael imagines how Margaret of Beaufort heard the news of her son's final victory in Bosworth, a woman broken by long isolation, her piety more a mark of identity with faith long failed - after all the years of hardship and hopes dashed, the question of how she can find happiness is left slightly open. I feel that in all the writings about Margaret of Beaufort, Michael seems to have come the closest to capturing her complexity and her contradictions. How could a woman so devout spend so much of her life plotting, manipulating and scheming? What was in her heart after all those years of sorrow? One of the most intriguing women of the medieval era, Margaret Beaufort would always leave us guessing, but with Accession and its two predecessors, she seems slightly more approachable. I am going to really miss this series.
A highly readable conclusion to a solid trilogy on the Wars of the Roses. This is a period that has already been well-mined in fiction (though, of course, nowhere near as much as the Tudor period that followed it), so you have to bring something new to the table. Or just do it very well. And it's so easy to come unstuck given the vast and confusing cast of characters and continually shifting allegiances.
Michael does a reasonably good job, but her narrative choices have both pros and cons. The 'new' she brings to the table is a reliance on extracts from chronicles to move the story along at frequent points in the plot. This certainly saves space and time and lends an ostensible air of authenticity to the narration. On the other hand, as she openly acknowledges in her note at the end, few of these were contemporary (for example, Thomas More was writing during the reign of Henry VIII) and were all clearly partisan, so should rarely be taken at face value. So, how are we supposed to read them, interposed as they are in the midst of her own narration?
She also tells her story from the viewpoint of multiple characters, continually changing, albeit within clearly delineated chapters or subdivisions. Much of this works really well. Notably, if there is a lead protagonist throughout this trilogy, it is Margaret Beaufort, mother of the future Henry VII. And she is wonderfully developed and captured. (And the suggestion that she was ultimately for remotely engineering the murder of the Princes in the Tower is certainly refreshingly inventive and provocative.) Despite what the blurb for this particular book says, Margaret of Anjou is no longer a major character by this stage and doesn't feature that much, but she is certainly well-developed in the earlier books.
Unfortunately, the jumping-around from one character to another is a bit messy, especially when she suddenly alights on one character briefly and then never again. Most frustratingly, despite him being a major character in much of this book, the viewpoint of the Duke of Gloucester / Richard III is neglected - and, of all the characters here, he's the one on whom we want to really know what her take is. So it seems a bit of a cop-out to have kept her distance from him. Then, suddenly, on the eve of the fateful Battle of Bosworth, we briefly inhabit his fretful, sleepless mind - which is more than a bit bizarre.
But, overall, this is probably one of the most readable series of novels on this period I've encountered in a while. There are more 'sweeping' novels that do a better job of drawing you in, but they are often shamelessly partisan.
Accession is a compelling conclusion to Livi Michael's trilogy about the rise of the Tudors and Margaret Beaufort's part in this. Livi weaves contemporary chronicle accounts into the book giving it historical authenticity. Her book highlights how Margaret, despite being female in a very male world, was able to use her strength, intelligence and cunning both to survive herself and to put her son in position to fight for the throne. Livi Michael seems to get into the heads of leading women of the time and allow us to understand their motivations and emotions. I was really moved by her description of the relationship between Alice Chaucer and Margaret of Anjou and the way the power dynamic evolved. Things were different for women in the 15th century but the women in Accession seemed very real to me. Wish there could be a sequel to the Trilogy as I'd love to hear more.................
I loved this just as much as I loved the first two books in the trilogy. Livi Michael's writing style is so easy to read, that it made me want to go back and read all three books again, one after the other. This feels like real history with all the gritty bits left in.
Accession is the third and final volume in Livi Michael’s series about Margaret of Anjou and Margaret Beaufort, focusing on the years after the Battle of Tewkesbury, when Edward IV holds the throne securely, the Lancastrians all but defeated – but the upheavals of Edward IV’s death and Richard III’s usurpation leave an opening in which all Margaret Beaufort’s hopes are poured.
Michael writes exquisitely and once again, everyone is characterised with great empathy and complexity. There is no real ‘good’ or ‘bad’ here but complex people living in complex times, trying to make the best of their lives. I loved the characterisation of Elizabeth Woodville and the way Michael showed the impossibility of her situation after Edward IV’s death. Jasper Tudor is finally sketched out into a more real character (though I remain bewildered at why no one seems to like him that much). While I’m not sure if I agree with Michael’s depiction of Margaret Beaufort and the actions she gives her in this volume, I did enjoy that they formed a character arc that, again, showed Michael as able to create complex and empathetic characters, even when their actions are quite unsympathetic.
I especially loved the chapters dealing with Margaret of Anjou. I expected there would be little of Margaret of Anjou in this book as her role in the Wars of the Roses really ended in the last book with the deaths of her husband and son and while we don’t get a lot of Margaret, what we do get is exquisite – particularly the chapter with Alice Chaucer, dowager Duchess of Suffolk, having Margaret in her charge.
If there was a weakness in Accession, it’s Richard III, whom Michael seems to avoid writing much about at all and when she does, seems reluctant to depict him as morally dubious. Perhaps she was more attracted to the idea that . It did read a little, though, as though Michael was scared of writing him in a way that bring a horde of Ricardians down on her head. The great questions of his reign – whether Edward IV was pre-contracted to Eleanor Talbot and thus his marriage to Elizabeth Woodville was invalid and their children illegitimate, what happened to the Princes in the Tower – remain unanswered but the answers Michael hints at show Richard III as the innocent and noble party here. I just wish he’d been depicted like everyone else – complex, not morally perfect, capable of mistakes and misdeeds.
Michael’s approach is more experimental – again, she uses excerpts from historical records to give structure – and more literary than most historical fiction. Yet this is probably the best novel series I’ve read about the Wars of the Roses, depicting the people and conflict as complex and no one as goodies or baddies.
finished just in time for the 535th anniversary of bosworth! i feel a little bad giving this book two stars, because when i enjoyed it i truly did enjoy it, but i think it lost enough steam in its middle section that i can't quite give it the same rating i gave to Rebellion. where the second entry in this series succeeded in capturing the lives of these historical figures in a way that fully utilized the chosen medium, this novel felt a lot messier. early on, the dreamy scenes of margaret beaufort and henry tudor's twin introspection, as well as the chilling depiction of margaret of anjou's post-tewkesbury existence, served as the perfect continuation from the previous book. however, it gets a little lost in the chaos surrounding edward iv's death, and i think that some of this comes from the fact that one of the series' two principle focuses suddenly leaves the narrative, and elizabeth woodville is never quite fleshed-out enough to fill that margaret-of-anjou-shaped hole. instead, we go from perspective to perspective with few of the little moments of characterization that really made the earlier parts of the series tick--for example, the scene where hastings is beheaded reminded me a lot of the previous execution of henry duke of somerset in Rebellion, but the magic of that earlier scene, where the condemned man staring at the dirt below finds wonder in the vastness of even the smallest of existences, wasn't quite captured again. when we finally do return to margaret beaufort's perspective, it's unclear exactly how much of a role she is or isn't playing in the mystery of the princes, and i didn't necessarily mind that ambiguity, but as a reader it meant feeling a sudden distance from margaret that hadn't previously been there, even in the very private agonies of her early life. ultimately, i didn't feel that the author had added much to the conversation around this part of the wars of the roses that hadn't already been said by the chronicles, even if i really enjoyed a couple stand-out scenes towards the beginning, in addition to a few scattered throughout, such as elizabeth of york forced into comforting anne neville after the death of her son. in short, a complicated 2 stars.
Really a 4.5; I enjoyed this volume only slightly less than its predecessors. Part of the reason is due to Margaret of Anjou's early departure from the book; although the author gives her the best passage in the novel (chapter 3). I also felt she was the better drawn of the two Margarets with Margaret Beaufort being harder to pin down despite the bulk of the story being devoted to her perspective. The latter woman became so utterly ruthless, which I did not expect, and it came on so abruptly that it was a bit jarring. However, after some consideration, perhaps that was by design. Also, I think this book gave voice to too many characters' perspectives so that by the last third I was purely reading for the plot rather than characters' inner motivations. For example, I would've liked to know more about why Stanley had an apparent change of heart with the message to Richard III that he had other sons. What pushed Stanley to support Henry? And what exactly happened to the princes in the tower? How was it done? Did Henry always know he would attempt to be king? I would've enjoyed more focus on fewer characters (I could've done without the passages of Elizabeth falling for her Uncle- bleach). And the use of the chronicles seemed a bit much in this book, especially knowing that they mostly were written well after the events. But at the end of the day, Livi Michael has brought this period to life, while keeping the language and the details seemingly authentic, and moves the story along at a nice clip without any lulls. A fabulous end to a trilogy, a must-read for anyone interested in 15th century British history, and a masterclass in storytelling.
An enjoyable read, vivid imagery and constant motion. I enjoyed how well different figures are characterised and every time we skip into a new characters head their emotions and motives seem authentic and well captured. I found it a bit distracting having the chronicles quoted and would have preferred it remain in the same literary form however I can see how much work went into research and appropriate placement of these excerpts and it did lend weight whenever I assumed something was an invention on the part of the author. Overall a very enjoyable read, the characters philosophising and reflected emotions resonating deeply at times.
With her Wars of the Roses trilogy, Livi Michaels imparts a familiar tale of confounding characters and shifting loyalties. I did have to repeatedly refer back to the genealogy chart and I suspect most if not all readers would need to do the same. But her rendering of the story and its many tragic twists is both affecting and engaging.
I really loved the book, but two pieces of dialog took me out of the book, both happening when Perrin is taking Henry to a border. The use the words "OK" and "fucking", which are anachronisms. Otherwise, really liked the book.
An excellent book about the war of the roses mainly about Margaret beaufort the mother of henry 7. Apparently this is the last book of the trilogy so I will have to read the previous two aswell, but a really good read. If you love history you will love this
This is such a great read and so exciting as it builds to the climatic conclusion. As a piece of literary historical fiction the entire trilogy is in a league of it's own - not least as it gives the reader extracts from chronicles that were written at the time. I have always felt that it is unjust that all too often only academics have access to documents relating to our common history and here Livi Michael has addressed that injustice. Readers are often told that historical fiction is well researched, but here we don't need to take that on trust - as here, (and also in Succession and Rebellion the 2 previous novels of the trilogy) we can read some of the researched material for ourselves. It would be fine to read this novel even if you have not read the previous novels as Livi Michael uses her skills to bring all her readers up to speed. However, I think that you'll probably want to read Succession and Rebellion afterwards as characters like Margaret Beaufort and Margaret of Anjou are so vividly drawn that you'll want to know what they were like at the beginning of the trilogy. Enjoy.