MA, MSc, BA. Historian and Author.
Elizabethan Rebellions (2023)
Tudor Executions (2024)
The Many Faces of Anne Boleyn (2025)
Henry VIII's Quest for an Heir (2026)
What a triumph of historical fiction! It’s rare to find a book that is so well-written and engaging yet with a very obvious historical accuracy. Garthwaite has done her research, going back to the primary sources to find what actually happened, and who was where when it did. Gaps in the evidence are filled but in a very believable and cohesive way.
I didn’t really know much about Cecily Neville and Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, other than them being the parents of Edward IV and Richard III, so it was really interesting to get to know them a bit better and see in more detail and a very engaging way how their lives unfolded. It was also interesting to see other characters from Cecily’s point of view. Books featuring Edward IV are usually written from the point of view of himself or Elizabeth Woodville, or in the third person, so it was fascinating to see a mother’s point of view of him growing up and his evolution into a man and king.
I also think that starting the story with the burning of Joan of Arc was a good foreshadowing of the story of Cecily’s life that will be told here, up to her son’s accession as Edward IV. It starts with violence and the violence builds in various stages throughout the book as we go through the conflicts and battles of the Wars of the Roses.
The novel doesn’t shy away from darker aspects, like the battles and looting, though there are minimal first-hand battle scenes as Cecily is at a remove from them, though there are many dark moments as Cecily loses children and other family members, and the ups and downs of the York family through fear, imprisonment, and death.
It’s a hugely engaging and emotional book without being overly complex or people-heavy, as the period known as the Wars of the Roses can be. Some non-fiction books it is difficult to keep people and relationships straight in your head, but Garthwaite does a masterful job here of keeping people in line and not letting the story feel stilted at all. I can’t wait to read ‘The King’s Mother’ now!
Thanks to Amberley Publishing for a copy to read and review.
This book intrigued me from the first time I heard about it. Writing a book myself at the moment about Henry VIII’s Great Matter I thought that this could be a very interesting alternative point of view, and one that hasn’t really been discussed in detail in any previous works I’ve read. It is quite engagingly written with an extensive bibliography.
There are very extensive notes, though a lot of this information would have been better in the main body of the text for context for those less versed in the subject. References should be used to reference texts, with small additions in my view. But there is a lot of information provided in the book and a good selection of images in the central plates as well. Rabow obviously knows his subject and has done extensive research which is evidenced throughout.
Rabow does seem to be very well-versed in Biblical interpretation and how it could have applied to Henry VIII’s attempts to get an annulment from Katherine of Aragon to marry Anne Boleyn. A lot of the Jewish theology goes over my head, if I’m honest, it took me long enough to grasp the Catholic and reformist angles on the divorce. The general Jewish history was very interesting, and quite mind-opening for someone like me who doesn’t know much of the early Jewish history in Europe.
Rabow seems to make sweeping assertions about the history without evidence – like that Anne Boleyn had multiple sexual relationships in France and remained friends with her ex-lovers. He says that the love letters are dated to 1527 and 1528 as if it’s a certainty. In the appendix the love letters he actually gives precise dates to, where we have no evidence. He adds a note in the references to say where he’s got the order from, but that should be stated more clearly within the appendix itself for any avoidance of doubt. It’s a huge problem to assert things as facts when they’re far from certain. This is my biggest problem with this book.
However, I do think that it is a new and unique angle on Henry VIII’s annulment case which offers more for historians to get their teeth into. It is engaging to read, you just need to engage your brain to understand the theology, especially when it’s not something you’re particularly knowledgeable about. An interesting addition to my bookshelves for sure!
I was intrigued by this novel when I was offered a copy by the author for review. I’ve never heard of a novel told from the points of view of Thomas More, Desiderius Erasmus, and Margaret More Roper and it worked really well. The author has obviously done their research into the period and the figures at the centre of the story, and there is a long author note at the end which explains where things have deviated from the historical record and why.
The only thing that really got to me was the undertone of a romantic relationship between More and Erasmus, and again between Margaret and her maid, Dorothy. As far as I am aware, there is no evidence of any such relationships, and it didn’t add anything to the story by being there, it felt completely incongruous. These were the points where I struggled to get through sections, and I was engaged by the story when it focused on the religious divisions, struggles with what was and wasn’t heresy, and the changing political situations in Europe.
There is an extensive bibliography at the end of the novel, and the storytelling of the tumultuous events in Europe at this time is great. The different perspectives worked really well to understand events from someone at the centre of them in England (More), a woman who wanted to be able to do more than her position would allow her (Margaret), and a man who spread ideas which were sometimes deemed heretical but was hugely respected across Europe, removed from events in England (Erasmus). The three perspectives give insight into events outside England as well, providing a more rounded fictional narrative.
Kirkham-Sandy does a great job of telling the story and bringing the characters to life with detailed research, though some historical licence as usual with fiction. I don’t know all that much about Erasmus, more about Thomas More, so this was fascinating to learn a little more through a fictional perspective.
80 Years Since the Liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau
My memorial on Holocaust Memorial Day 2025, with reflections on family connections, how an interest in the Holocaust influenced by interest in history, and how we can learn from it.
The Holocaust is something that everyone should be aware of, and be aware of how we can stop something like this happening again.
Thanks to Richard Woulfe and Chiselbury Publishing for a copy of this to review.
The idea of this book intrigued me when I was offered a copy. Robert Cecil isn’t someone I knew a huge amount about, largely just his involvement in the Essex Rebellion. I certainly had no real knowledge of how his life was under James I. I knew more about his father, William Cecil, Baron Burghley. So, this was a chance for me to get to know Robert Cecil a little better through a fictional lens.
We see the development of Robert over time, from the first chapter told from the point of view of his father while his mother gives birth, to the final chapter narrated by Robert himself as he’s dying, taking in his relationship with Francis Bacon, the Essex Rebellion, the death of Elizabeth I and accession of James I, the Gunpowder Plot, and the scandalous marriage of Arbella Stuart to William Seymour and their attempted flight. An overarching feature is Robert Cecil’s scoliosis, often referred to as a hunchback, little, or pygmy.
It is a good format to be told in 18 interlinked short stories, picking out some of the most important moments in Robert Cecil’s life, and of the late Tudor and early Stuart reigns. You see it from all kinds of different perspectives – Robert himself, his father, men and women on the street, a sculptor, a playwright, and an intelligencer. The writing is engaging in telling Cecil’s story, and Woulfe seems to have kept to the historical record as far as possible in terms of events that happened, though my knowledge of the period is far from encyclopaedic.
One thing I will say is that it would have been nice to have a year, and who the narrator is at the beginning of each chapter, so you know immediately how far ahead in the story we’ve jumped from the last chapter. Not having that stops the flow of the narrative I felt. It’s a bit hit and miss because some chapters do have a year and others don’t. The same with the different narrators, you have to sort of figure out who’s speaking as you go along which means you do really need to concentrate.
Overall, I would have to say that Richard Woulfe’s Master Secretary is a great story collection that brings together anecdotes about Robert Cecil in a generally accessible way. Some are based around major events and others around seemingly less important conversations and events, so it is a good mix. I look forward to seeing what Richard Woulfe writes in the future!
One of the biggest castle sites I’ve ever visited!
Dover Castle is a huge site, much bigger than I expected, and with centuries of history from a Roman lighthouse, to a Saxon church, to the medieval castle, to the 20th century bunkers.
And Why does History seem to be Considered an Unimportant Subject in Schools?
This was a fascinating, and frustrating, post to research and write.
Frustrating in that history seems to be considered an unimportant subject in schools, and now universities are cutting humanities professors and departments.
History, and other humanities and social sciences subjects like English, are hugely important. They give us lots of transferable skills that are of great use in the workplace and that you don't get elsewhere.
I’ve wanted to read this book for a while, and I’ve seen mixed reviews. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if there was enough information on Henry Fitzroy to write a full biography as he seems to be relatively absent from the primary sources, probably hugely overshadowed by Anne Boleyn and the Great Matter. I owe thanks to Rebecca Batley for lending this to me for my research for my own book.
The chronology doesn’t quite make sense because Murphy starts with Henry VIII’s relationship with Fitzroy’s mother, Bessie Blount, through Fitzroy’s birth, life, and death. But then she seems to go backwards before moving on to his legacy and what could have happened had he survived past 1536. I think it was too much to write an entire book on Henry Fitzroy alone as there just isn’t enough information. I think what was done was done well, but there is a lot of background information on the Great Matter and a lot on what happened after Fitzroy died which had just a tenuous link to his story.
It is quite well-written and engaging, clear and easy to read, I mainly just have a problem with the chronology as previously outlined. It feels bulked out with more general Tudors information and context rather than focusing in on Fitzroy because of the lack of information about his life, but I did learn some things about him that I didn’t know.
The final chapter entitled ‘Henry the Ninth’ was interesting in particular, looking at how things could have been different had Fitzroy outlived his father and what role he could have played in the reigns of his half-siblings, and whether he would have become king himself. It is a really interesting what-if of Tudor history. Although the book struggles in places due to lack of sources, it is an easy read about a lesser-known member of the Tudor royal family.
My Experiences of Writing, Research, and Life in General
This was a very personal and difficult post for me to write, but I thought that it needed saying.
It's sometimes said that autism is a superpower. That's not true. There are far more difficulties than bonuses in being born with autism and living as an autistic woman. But it is what makes me, me.
History is my lifeline and my passion, it's what makes my eyes sparkle.
I plucked this off the shelf at the university library where I work; I thought it could be interesting and helpful to read for the book I’ve just finished writing. The focus is very much on Henry VIII as a man, statesman, and politician, and how England developed during his reign. There is less emphasis on those around him like his wives and advisers, though they’re included as influences on the king.
It's an interesting book because traditional biographies of Henry VIII there is still usually a lot of focus on those around the king, naturally because we are all influenced by those around us. However, the focus is very much on the king here. Wooding almost seems to make excuses for Henry where some of his actions were inexcusable, even at the time.
It is a challenge to theories of Henry VIII as a pawn of others, and I think that’s a very positive challenge. It’s always good to re-examine what others have said. I certainly don’t believe Henry VIII was a pawn of his advisers, wives, and nobility – he was a competent statesman, a confident man, and knew exactly what he wanted. I think it does Henry a disservice to place him as a pawn in his own history.
There are some errors, such as that Prince Arthur got married before he went to Ludlow, but he had already been at Ludlow, returned to London to marry, and then went back to Ludlow. And an assertion that Anne and George Boleyn were condemned partly on the evidence of Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford, but there is no contemporary evidence of that, so it shouldn’t be asserted as fact in my opinion.
Splitting the book into the different phases of Henry’s reign works well. It's an interesting take on Henry VIII and one that I think is a valuable addition to the history to focus specifically on the king, the things that shaped him, and the changes he implemented.
Author of 'The Boleyns: From the Tudors to the Windsors'
Amanda Harvey Purse joins me on my blog and Substack again, this time to talk about her book 'The Boleyns: From the Tudors to the Windsors' and specifically about Mary Boleyn!
She offers some interesting insights on Mary and the places she would have known when younger, including Blickling Hall and Hever Castle, the latter of which she would return to at a difficult time in life.
Thanks to Amberley Publishing for giving me a copy of this for review.
I was intrigued by this book when I first heard about it – a compendium of 50 different items from the Medieval period that are unusual, we have questions about, aren’t entirely sure what they are or what their purpose was. The selection of objects showcase how varied items, thought, belief, and intellectual curiosity was in the period.
The illustrations were very well done, but I felt that it would have been good to see images of the actual objects, at least for a few of them, but there were none, only artist sketches. The name of museum and the reference number of the different objects is helpful, however, to look at online catalogues for the items where they exist. Giving the dimensions and country of origin is also useful to try and place the objects in the time in which they existed.
The objects are Europe-centric, there aren’t really any from other parts of the world like Asia or Africa, though some are currently in American museums. The other thing that I got a little frustrated by is that the order of the artefacts seems entirely random – they’re not chronological or by country which would have been better if you wanted to look at a particular thing. The book is short, so it’s not a massive issue, but it would have been a positive addition to think a little more about the order as it feels like it is cluttered and disorganised.
The explanations are all thorough, however, and Chevalier offers multiple possible explanations to unanswered questions, allowing the reader to think about the possible uses for or purpose of the objects included. You do need to really focus when reading, as there is a lot of information and depth in not a lot of space, though the subheadings in each section help. It’s an interesting look at lesser-known objects of the medieval period, from the Vikings through to the 16th century.
Eric Ives’s book on Anne Boleyn is probably the most famous of the large volume of works on Henry VIII’s second wife. Ives attempts to uncover the truth behind the myth of Anne’s controversial life, making excellent use of contemporary sources and pulling apart the stories surrounding her to reveal that she ‘deserves to be a feminist icon, a woman ... who broke through the glass ceiling by sheer character and initiative’ (p. xv). Ives’s argument is that Anne was essentially a modern woman in an early modern world, and that she managed to thrive in a male-dominated arena.
The book’s first twelve chapters’ deal with Anne’s life in largely chronological order, from her birth and childhood spent at the French court, up to her coronation in 1533. This section includes analysis of her romances with Henry Percy and Thomas Wyatt, and her role in the fall of Cardinal Wolsey and the King’s ‘Great Matter’, controversial topics which have sparked much debate. However, Ives seems to dispel a lot of rumour and uses contemporary sources to put forward a concise argument, steering clear of conjecture. He then takes a break from chronological analysis to look at some of the most fascinating themes surrounding Anne. The chapters on ‘Influence, Power and Wealth’, ‘Image’ and ‘Personal Religion’ are some of the best in the book. This is because they go beyond the generally accepted perceptions of Anne, and look at her in a new light. Ives goes into deep analysis of these often contentious issues; quoting from sources like the Lisle Letters, Hall’s Chronicle and the Letters and Papers of the Reign of Henry VIII, including dispatches from Chapuys, the Imperial ambassador, and Thomas Cromwell, the king’s first minister. These kinds of sources offer a first-hand insight, not just into the life of Anne herself, but into the world in which she lived and died. The later chapters discuss the first half of 1536, and Anne’s fall from power, in exceptional detail, analysing the evidence, the pitfalls, and the information that Anne herself supposedly divulged to indict her so-called ‘accomplices’. Because Ives dedicates so many chapters to her fall, he really does wade through all the evidence to try and untangle the fact from the fiction. He really does originate the historical argument that Cromwell was to blame for engineering her fall, although many historians (like George W. Bernard) disagree with this view.
Some of Ives’s conclusions have become the basis for future works. They are very convincing as he does not leave out important evidence, which is dismissed by some historians because it does not fit their arguments. Bernard argues against a lot of Ives’s points, particularly about Anne’s religion, as he believes she died a Catholic death, ignoring her earlier evangelical sympathies. However, works like Joanna Denny’s Anne Boleyn and Alison Weir’s The Lady in the Tower agree with a lot of Ives’s conclusions, concurring on issues like religion and, in the case of Weir, the reason for her fall from power. Firstly, Ives correctly sees Anne’s fall from grace as a ‘coup’ and a ‘tragedy’ (p. 319), as it took less than three weeks from the arrest of the first suspect to Anne’s death. This rapid fall suggests that the protagonists were less than sure of their own arguments and that they were worried they would not succeed. Secondly, Ives sees Anne as a victim of the early modern court in which she lived as rumours and circumstance destroyed her without any concrete evidence. As historians, we can understand the influence of rumours and stories about Anne because we also lack any concrete evidence as to her innocence or guilt, and the reasons behind her fall, so we rely on conjecture.
However, Ives’s work does have some weaknesses. Because of the depth of his analysis and the foresight he shows in examining and questioning the primary sources, the reader is often deprived of drawing their own conclusions about them. Ives seems to tell the reader what to think rather than allowing them to make up their own mind. This leads to historians and scholars always following the same tack in discussing Anne Boleyn, as there is little or no room left for interpretation. Ives is particularly convincing because he creditably tears apart the arguments of other historians. Also, there are only minimal references to Ives’s most vocal critics, Bernard and Retha Warnicke, which suggests that, either he was unwilling to tear apart their arguments, or there was something in them that he did not want to acknowledge. To make the book more balanced on the historiographical front, Ives could have discussed their arguments in more depth; for example, Warnicke’s arguments about Anne’s supposedly deformed child, and Bernard’s arguments about Anne’s religion, even if he was going to end by dismissing them as unlikely.
Eric Ives’s work is substantial and identifies analytically with the key themes and events in Anne’s life. His referencing is clear, and his bibliography extensive. Ives manages to look at key events from a variety of different perspectives: from supporters of Anne and also enemies. Ives intrinsically links her enemies and supporters with their religious beliefs, which is largely how they were split at the time – those for and those against the Reformation. What could be built on from Ives’s work is the idea of Anne Boleyn’s image, and her place in the early modern public sphere. The section on ‘Life at Court’ also offers room for development, as full biographies of Anne often condense her life to the divorce and her fall, missing out or abbreviating the section in the middle, as Ives does here.
In a lot of ways, it is easy to identify with Ives’s claim that ‘once [Anne] interests you, fascination grows’. The debates surrounding her role in the break with Rome and the development of Protestantism in England, and the circumstances of her death, mean that Anne Boleyn will always be fascinating to study. Eric Ives cleverly manages to put aside the speculation to get to the woman behind the Queen.