#sydney anglo

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Fencing isn't really fighting. It's more like chess with the risk of puncture wounds.

- Sydney Anglo, The martial arts of Renaissance Europe

[beardofkamenev]

Henry VII the Fuckboy? According to George Buck...

Reading this super interesting article on Henry VII’s posthumous reputation by Sydney Anglo (highly recommend!) and I just got to the part where it talks about George Buck’s 1609 Life of Richard III:

Huh, that’s actually interesting. I’ve never read Buck’s Richard III, but I was under the impression that he was a Ricardian revisionist — the first ever, in fact. I assumed he wouldn’t have much good to say about Henry VII, if only because of his godson’s creative “interpretations” of his work (which Alison Weir infamously used as her source for claiming that Elizabeth of York was in love with her uncle, Richard III). So this is surprising.

STEALING THE AFFECTIONS OF LADIES BECAUSE HE WAS SO GOOD AND CUNNING AN AMORET.

Right... so Henry was known for being well-spoken and courteous to guests, which makes sense, given that his upbringing was largely that of a courtier. I can also believe that growing up in the sophisticated but intrigue-filled Breton court, he probably did develop “fine, insinuating, and courtly arts” (the Burgundian chronicler, Jean Molinet, who met Henry both as a young teenager in Brittany and as a grown man, described him as “very pleasant, an elegant character, and a fine ornament in the court of France”). What I have a hard time believing is that Henry used these skills to casually chat up random ladies, sliding into their dm’s like he was on medieval Tinder. Like, which ladies did he supposedly have affairs with? And just how many ladies were there that we can conclude that he was especially good at it? Even if you believe Roland de Velville was Henry’s secret son (which I don’t), his mother was but one lady. WHAT IS YOUR EVIDENCE GEORGE.

Personally, I don’t find it unthinkable that Henry may have had a few affairs during his exile; he only married at 28, after all. But 15th century conceptions of masculinity were very different to ours, or even Buck’s in the 17th century: it was women who were thought to be oversexed, whereas men were seen as having more control over their sexual conduct. To be chaste, therefore, was to be Very Manly. Not to mention, Henry had a reputation for marital fidelity and of “true and faithful love”, so the idea of him as a serial ladies’ man just doesn’t fit with what we know of his character. It’s entirely possible that he might have done a 180 upon his marriage, but here’s what Buck has to say about that:

I want “Yorkizing, Lancastrizing, or Somersetizing, and in all Satanizing” on my tombstone.

Anyway, there’s no good evidence that Henry mistreated Elizabeth of York (that’s a whole ‘nother post), or that he was “perfidious” (he was largely true to his word, and a loyal master and ally). Whether he was particularly “oppressive” is more nuanced in the context of an England caught between the feudal age and early Renaissance developments in government bureaucracy. I just find it odd that Buck thinks that a man who was apparently as good with ze ladies as his Henry didn’t even bother to make the slightest bit of effort with his hot wife. Perhaps Buck’s Henry should have taken some fuckboy lessons from granddaddy Owen:

Goodnight!

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Fencing isn't really fighting. It's more like chess with the risk of puncture wounds.

- Sydney Anglo, The martial arts of Renaissance Europe

[beardofkamenev]

First published in 1622, [Francis Bacon's 'History of the Reign of King Henry VII'] has remained the most famous and most influential biography of an English monarch. [...] Its worthlessness as an original source for the reign of Henry VII is a modern historiographical commonplace; but [...] even judged by the historical scholarship of its own day, it is not meritorious. It is a labour of haste, dashed off with virtuoso aplomb though scant diligence. It is very much within the tradition of humanist historical writing, showing little interest [...] in documentary sources, but concentrating instead upon eloquent expression and arresting aphorisms, served with a relish of invented set speeches.

Sydney Anglo, ‘Ill of the Dead: the Posthumous Reputation of Henry VII,’ Renaissance Studies, Vol. 1, No. 1 (1987)

His obsessive emphasis on the king’s avarice, coupled with Henry’s feeble hereditary claim to the throne, his secretiveness, his elimination of rivals, and the fact that he was feared by his subjects and not loved — together with Bacon's well-known knowledge of Machiavelli — raise the possibility that this particular Henry VII was intended to be seen as a Machiavellian prince. There is little to commend the notion [...]; nevertheless, readers made a connection Bacon's Henry VII and Machiavelli’s New Prince. [...] Bacon's History dominated subsequent attitudes towards Henry VII.

[beardofkamenev]

Henry [VII]'s sharpness of wit has always been recognized, and only rarely questioned. When Edward Hall characterized his reign as a 'Politique Governaunce', he was expressing what was already a commonplace. The fact that a court poet such as Bernard André, in his eulogies of the king, constantly described him as 'sapientissimus' ('very wise') means little — or nothing. That the Spanish diplomats, who had to negotiate with the king, recognized his extreme cunning is quite another matter. It is not remarkable that Bishop [John] Fisher, in his funeral oration at St Paul's, should, in the presence of the royal corpse, laud Henry's 'politique wisdom in governance.'

Sydney Anglo, ‘Ill of the Dead: the Posthumous Reputation of Henry VII,’ Renaissance Studies, Vol. 1, No. 1 (1987)

But the testimonial in [Thomas] Elyot’s Book of the Governor, unsolicited by funebrial proprieties, is more cogent. Henry, says Elyot, was a mirror of circumspection who, coming to a kingdom long ravaged by civil war:

"by his most excellent wit, he in a few years, not only brought this realm in good order and under due obedience, revived the laws, advanced Justice, refurnished his dominions, and repaired his manors; but also with such circumspection treated with other princes, of leagues, of alliance, and amities, that during the more part of his reign, he was little or nothing inquieted with outward hostility or martial business. And yet all other princes either feared him or had him in fatherly reverence.”

[magica-pseudoacademica]

For Scot the study of demonology meant much more than simply haggling over the verities of witchcraft: over whether witches could work wonders, charm people, fly through the air, attend sabbats, or copulate with devils. The whole problem of magic was involved. Was it possible for anybody to bring to pass things totally outside the normal field of human experience, and totally alien to generally recognized natural phenomena? Demonologists invariably buttressed their arguments concerning the possibility of miracles and wonders by referring to the authority of the Holy Scripture. How could the numerous allusions to demonic activity contained therein be gainsaid? And this, in turn, involved the entire question of scriptural interpretation: patristic accretion versus biblical fundamentalism; allegory versus literality; myth versus historicity; orthodox Catholicism versus Protestantism. Moreover, the Catholic Church still had its own magic; and it maintained the possibility of miraculous occurrences.

Sydney Anglo, “Reginald Scot’s Discoverie of Witchcraft: Scepticism and Sadduceeism” in The Damned Art: Essays in the Literature of Witchcraft (2011)

[magica-pseudoacademica]

Underlying the entire structure of the Malleus are three beliefs: that witchcraft is real and that it is heresy to maintain the opposite; that demonic interference in human affairs is incessant; and that both witchcraft and demonic activity are permitted by God for his own purposes. The first two beliefs can be established by the authorities and by evidence: but the last can only be an inference from these - that is, since they are real, God must have permitted them. This is scarcely a satisfactory position, but its implications are alarming when one considers that, in the course of the Malleus, virtually every species of misery and misfortune is attributed to demonic agency. It seems that God, despite occasional assertions to the contrary, has given the devil carte blanche in terrestrial affairs.

Sydney Anglo, “Evident authority and authoritative evidence: The Malleus Maleficarum” in The Damned Art: Essays in the Literature of Witchcraft (2011)