St Albans 1455: The Day the Roses Made War!

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Battle of Castillon, 1453: https://youtu.be/AjQtlDxNIMk

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🚩 In the spring of 1455, England stood on a knife’s edge. After years of political infighting, mistrust, and royal instability, the kingdom braced itself for open conflict between two of its most powerful noble factions. What had begun as court intrigue and whispered conspiracy was now poised to erupt into war.

At the heart of the storm stood the fragile figure of King Henry VI, a monarch whose bouts of mental illness and indecisive rule had left a dangerous power vacuum. Into that vacuum stepped Richard, Duke of York, a prince of royal blood with a claim to the throne and growing support among the realm’s discontented nobles.

At St Albans, a decisive blow could shift the balance of power in the realm and set the precedent for noble rebellion or royal repression. Across England, nobles watched, cities held their breath, and common folk whispered that civil war had finally come.

📢 Narrated by David McCallion

🎼 Music:
EpidemicSound
Filmstro

📚 Sources:
St Albans 1455: The Anatomy of a Battle – Andrew Boardman (2024)
The First Battle of St. Albans – Andrew Boardman (2006)
‘Politics and the Battle of St Albans 1455’ – C.A.J. Armstrong (1960)
The Battles of St Albans – Peter Burley, Michael Elliott and Harvey Watson (2007)
Philip A. Haigh – The Military Campaigns of the Wars of the Roses
Terence Wise and Gerry Embleton – The Wars of the Roses

#history #documentary #medieval

It is early spring, 1452, and just as 
chill winds blow across the sceptered fields and the first shoots of the year’s 
growth, so too do the spirits of men feel a cold unease when they cast their eye 
on the state of the kingdom of England. Revolt and uprising, murder and assassination 
have riven the reign of Henry VI, who has sat on the thrones in both London and Paris, but so 
far has produced no heir to continue his line. With the war in France disintegrating into 
horrific failure and the loss of vast territories, Henry has seemingly compounded what would 
already be a disastrous situation by repeating the failures of his predecessors and allowed his 
court and policies to be run by favorites, rather than the men who would presume to lead by merit.
To the wise men around him who know their history, they remember the fates that befell 
Henry’s ancestors, Edward and Richard, both of them the second of their name.
Installing the men they loved to rule over those most capable, both Edward II and Richard 
II sealed their own fate – their crowns and thrones taken from under by the strong men who 
would make good times – and both of them dying in captivity in likely violent circumstances.
Now, on the field between Blackheath and Dartford, Henry VI faces the forces of Richard, the Third 
Duke of York – his own kinsman and likely the most powerful man in England after the king.
York, it seems, is willing to use force to have his way, and he will have himself 
named heir to the throne and clear the   court of inept favorites or else bring 
hellfire down on any who oppose him. York’s forces in Deptford appear formidable 
to all of the scouts from the royal camp who ride forth to review his company 
in these freezing February days. His numbers are described to the king 
and his retainers as several thousands,   and these companies have deployed cannon 
along with archers, blades, and small arms. In addition to this array, Norfolk’s 
contingent also includes a naval component, for he has no fewer than seven supply ships 
parked on the banks of the Thames. This gives the impression that he is not only preparing 
for battle, but ready for an entire campaign. The royal party, however, when the two 
sides meet for the first time on March 1st, has its own show of power. The King and 
his Royal Standard are symbolic enough, but Henry’s host actually outnumbers that of York.
At the same time, the monarch has brought the Dukes of Exeter, Buckingham, Somerset, and Norfolk 
– all four men equal in rank to York with no one above them in official station but the king.
Along with these most powerful magnates, Henry is sided by the Earl of Devon 
and Lord Cobham, a veritable conclave of the nation’s bishops, and more than 
fifteen other major nobles of the realm. It is an awesome display of royal power. 
York had hoped that Norfolk in particular was on his side, but he now sees that he is 
completely isolated and without allies. When Henry’s heralds invite him forth 
to put his case in the royal presence,   he has little choice but to comply.
Henry hears York’s grievances. The Duke is chiefly angered by the actions of 
Edmund Beauford, the Duke of Somerset,   who as Henry’s foremost representative in France 
has overseen the loss of Maine and Normandy. York also alleges that Somerset is plotting to 
hand the port of Calais to the Duke of Burgundy and also that he misappropriated royal 
funds during the abandonment of Maine. Somerset is inevitably outraged at these 
accusations of theft, treason, and cowardice, and he and York’s relationship takes on a mortal edge. 
There is no return to cordiality possible now. For his part, Henry is unmoved 
by York’s fury, but he acts in   a more decisive manner than his forebear.
He invites York to come with him to London – an offer the duke is in no position to refuse – with 
the promise that he will listen and perhaps even grant the nobleman’s requests. So the word goes 
around York’s army, which is quickly dispersed. A fortnight later, Somerset is still 
in position, and York is marched into   the auspices of St. Paul’s Cathedral where 
he swears his loyalty to the king and vows on the Bible and Cross that he will never use 
intimidation or violence against the sovereign. It seems that the matter is at a close; a page 
can be turned. If York and his supporters feel that they have been gulled, there is little 
they can do about it, given their isolated status and York’s own sacred pronouncements.
Henry begins touring the countryside with an unforeseen energy, making himself visible to 
the populace and judging disputes from Wales to the kingdom’s eastern shore. Even better, 
the royal army in France under the Earl of Shrewsbury recaptures Bordeaux, and it seems 
that the tide of the war on the continent is turning once more in the island nation’s favor.
Best of all, a year on from the confrontation at Deptford, it is announced that Margaret 
of Anjou, the French wife of King Henry, is pregnant with their first child.
After years of upheaval, the people of England may be able to breathe a sigh of relief 
and step back from the precipice of civil war. But there are still flickering embers of turmoil 
beneath the tamped down cloth of peace. Even after York’s neutering, unrest and 
even armed uprisings against the crown   authorities or unpopular nobles has continued 
in many locales. “Suffolk, Kent, Warwickshire, Lincolnshire, and Norfolk” all see fighting, and 
Warwickshire in particular has a hot reception for its new Earl, Richard Neville.
Meanwhile, his relatives in Yorkshire are involved in an ever increasing 
rivalry with the Percy family,   who are livid at the upstart clan maneuvering 
into what has been their traditional domain. Both families have enough wealth and power 
to fuel a significant conflict if push comes to shove. Similarly, the Courtney and Bonville 
families are also vying for power in the kingdom’s west country, and it appears that England’s 
ruling class is not just fraying at its edges, but in the process of positively unraveling.
A strong king with an able sense of justice and fair play would keep these quarrels 
from descending to the stage of vendetta and bloodletting, but Henry VI is not Henry V.
With the war in France going well and the dynasty assured at the imminent arrival of an heir, the 
pot can just about be halted from boiling over, but then come the events of July 17th, 1453.
Talbot and the English army are utterly annihilated by the French cannon at Castillon, 
and those that are not reduced to gore and viscera amidst the shattered and dismembered limbs on 
the field are taken prisoner in the aftermath. Perhaps 10,000 fighting men of the English 
army are lost and the operational capacity of the London government in mainland 
Europe effectively ceases to exist. Bordeaux is lost once more, as is 
the ancient English fief of Gascony, as well as all other continental possessions with 
the exception of Calais and the Channel Islands. It is a catastrophe for the English crown, every 
bit comparable to the collapse of English holdings two and a half centuries earlier under King John.
The gloom is compounded when Henry has a complete breakdown later that August at his 
hunting lodge in Clarendon, Surrey. Courtiers, advisors, guards, and his pregnant wife 
look on in horror as the king is struck completely immobile, seemingly unable to speak, move, or 
communicate with those around him in any way. To the continued terror of his family 
and government, Henry remains in this   catatonic state not just for hours or days, but 
months, even past the birth of his royal heir, the Prince Edward, that October.
The situation in England and its miniscule remaining French holdings demands that 
some arrangement is needed to appoint a ruler or regent, take the running of law and order in 
hand and bring stability to what is swiftly becoming a new dissolution– havoc and lawlessness 
that is the nightmare of good men everywhere. In that same month when Henry slips from the 
world of acuity, Thomas Neville, son of Richard, the Earl of Warwick, marries Maud Stanhope.
Maud’s former husband the 6th Baron Willoughby is recently dead, leaving her a very 
substantial fortune. Better still from the Neville’s point of view, she also stands 
to inherit half of the fortune of Ralph, the 3rd Baron Cromwell, former treasurer 
and one of the richest men in the realm. Cromwell has his own disputes over land and 
offices, and he lives in fear of kidnap or assassination. An alliance with the 
daunting Nevilles and the pooling of   their resources suits both sides.
The marriage further antagonizes the Percy family, for Cromwell holds castles and 
properties they believe to be rightly theirs, and the prospect of these Percy lands passing into 
Neville hands is seen as an abhorrent insult. Thomas and Maud are duly married at Cromwell’s 
seat in Tattershall and begin a return journey to the Neville base in York when their procession 
is attacked and ambushed by a force of 5,000 men led by Thomas Percy, Lord Egremont.
Though it is a wedding procession, Neville, his relatives, and friends are 
armed and there is a vicious fight. Both bride and groom survive and reach a 
place of safety, but such a profane and vile act as an attack on a wedding demands 
restitution, and the enraged Nevilles intend to take such recompense by their own hands.
Across Yorkshire, Cumbria, and Northumberland, open warfare breaks out between the clans, 
disrupting crown revenues and leaving the border with Scotland that families like 
the Nevilles, Percys, and the Duke of   York have long protected open to attack.
Even the promise of the growing Prince Edward does not change matters. When presented to 
his father the king, Henry makes no response, looking at the infant with empty eyes and 
then returning his gaze to the floor. Some proper arrangement needs to be made, but 
the Somerset regime has lost all legitimacy and authority after the debacle in France, and 
in late October, the great council of nobles and prelates called at Westminster asks 
the Duke of York to join their number. York – who still believes his claim to be 
the true heir to the throne through his   descent from two sons of Edward III stronger 
than Henry or the newborn Edward – reaches London toward the middle of November and 
immediately forces the arrest of Somerset. Seeing themselves with no other choice given 
the state of the kingdom, his fellow lords and the churchmen acquiesce, and Somerset is 
locked in the Tower of London to await trial. Margaret of Anjou attempts to introduce 
legislation in the first month of the   new year to make herself regent, 
but England’s elite do not believe that putting a foreign born woman in charge of 
national affairs will alleviate the crisis. Although they do pronounce Edward as Prince 
of Wales, in the closing days of March, 1454, Richard Duke of York is 
named Protector of the Realm. His status alleviated after its near destruction 
at Deptford, York is thus supreme. He spends the remainder of the year consolidating both his 
power base as well as the situation in England. There follows a period of calm in the kingdom and 
once more men can afford to think of the future rather than the imminent survival of the nation.
As Richard returns to his northern home at the end of the year to celebrate Yuletide and the 
coming festive season, he too can look forward in satisfaction toward the years to come, when he 
has no doubt he will acquire the throne itself. But then…
like a dirty block of coal placed in York’s   stocking as a bad joke, Henry VI rises from bed 
on Christmas morning and asks those in attendance what day it is and where he can find his wife.
York could not have received a worse present in his wildest imagination.
To those around Henry, they watch in wonder as he seems to pick up immediately where he left off 
more than a year before, acting in a completely normal and rational manner and busily attending 
to his duties as a royal head of state. The King seems to have no memory of 
the preceding year and greets his   son with joy for the first time.
It is an utter disaster for York. A month on from Henry’s awakening, Somerset 
is released and reinstated to his previous status. Margaret of Anjou’s steely personality 
works to have him put back in favor and against the man that took the regency from her.
York is removed from his role as Protector by the second week of February. By 
the end of the first week of March,   the charges against Somerset of treason for 
the French losses are dismissed and he is a free man. York is also dismissed from his command 
of Calais, and Somerset is put into his place. To further compound the Yorkist 
losses, Richard Neville, the Earl   of Salisbury – father of the Earl of Warwick 
– is forced to step down as Chancellor. York – completely undone by Henry’s return and 
in consternation that the men he thinks of as his friends have been removed from office 
– withdraws from London with the Nevilles, and they ride back to their northern heartlands.
London is popularly behind York, but the city is not safe for him with Somerset and the Queen 
in power, and so he and the Nevilles decide that there is little option left for them 
but to prepare to fight for their rights. With no intention of being outnumbered 
again, York sends messengers across his domains from Wales to Northumberland.
In April, their fears seem to be realized. At a conference in London, Somerset leads a gathering 
of the royal administration to which neither York, Warwick, nor Salsbury receive invitations.
It is announced in the wake of this Westminster meeting that a Great Council will take 
place the following month at Leicester. It is made clear that York and Warwick 
are expected to appear at this assembly, which will “provide for the King’s 
safety against his enemies…” The northern lords are accordingly offended by 
this wording and threatened in the extreme. York remembers the fate of the Humphrey 
of Lancaster, the Duke of Gloucester,   who had answered an identical summons to a 
convocation at Bury St. Edmunds seven years earlier. Arrested on arrival, Gloucester – the 
uncle of Henry VI – had died while imprisoned. Avoiding such an end is York’s primary goal, 
and he turns his home of Sandal Castle into a fortress with an army of his retainers camped 
outside. Already at war with the Percys, Warwick and Salisbury do the same at their 
seats of Warwick Castle and Middleham. Word of this mustering reaches 
London, but Somerset does not   act nearly as decisively as his enemies.
Messengers are sent to the northern lords to stand down their armies, while other missives 
are delivered to the King’s supporters along the route from London to Leicester.
Departing from London on the 20th May with the king, Somerset tells his allies that 
they are to convene at the town of St Albans, mid-way between the capital and the 
eventual destination of Leicester. Fast riders are dispatched to the strongholds 
of York, Warwick, and Salisbury, telling each one to send their newly raised forces home and 
attend to the king with only a small personal guard of 160 men each for Warwick and Salisbury, 
but 200 for York to allow for his higher rank. When the messengers find the recipients, 
however, they are no longer in their castles. York and the others have already marched south 
with an even greater speed than Somerset and the King could anticipate, and they and an 
army numbering in the thousands are dotted around the village of Royston, just a few hours 
away from the king’s imminent destination. York and his allies prepare and send 
a reply to Henry – professing their   loyalty to him personally and his sacred role 
as king, yet also pointedly refusing to stand down their assembled host – but they address 
the message to the Archbishop of Canterbury, in his role as Henry’s chancellor, in London.
The Archbishop sends a messenger with the letter to the royal party, but for reasons unknown 
it appears to never reach Henry. York will later say that Somerset conspired to 
keep his pledge from the monarch. Thus Henry and his party do not receive York’s 
reply. When the royal party stay the night in Watford – nine miles south of St Albans – 
on the 21st May, they are unaware that York has reached the town of Ware, roughly the same 
distance north of St Albans on the far side. York attempts to send another letter with 
a similar profession of loyalty to Henry   in the early hours of the morning, but 
this also does not reach the King. A rude awakening comes the next morning when 
Henry and Somerset make to begin their progress, and messengers hurtle past their advance 
guards to bring news that York and his allies are approaching the fields and laneways north of 
St Albans with a force of close to 10,000 men. There is no doubt, the riders say, that 
this time the king is outnumbered. Henry and his party are not prepared for this 
development. They have sent orders for the raising of forces to towns around the countryside 
like Coventry, 70 miles northwest of St Albans, but there has not been time for these forces to 
organize and march. In all, Henry and Somerset have about 2,000 men in their column.
Similarly, York is awaiting his ally the Duke of Norfolk, but for the 
moment he holds the advantage. When King Henry nears St Albans, he does 
hold the larger number of the nobles in his retinue. Among them are the ever present 
Somerset and his son the Earl of Dorset. The Earls of Pembroke, Devon, and 
Wiltshire also ride with the royal party,   as well as the Duke of Buckingham and 
his own son, the Earl of Stafford. Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, and 
sworn enemy of York allies the Nevilles is also in the king’s train, but so too 
is William Neville, the Lord Fauconburg, who is the brother of York’s staunch ally, 
Salisbury, and uncle to the Earl of Warwick. This mixed party would indicate to York that the 
king still intends some kind of reproachment, but Queen Margaret and almost the 
entire clergy are not traveling   with the king as is their usual custom.
Certainly, Henry and Somerset in particular are expecting violence to be a possibility.
At a hurried roadside conference, Somerset recommends that the King has his men dig in at 
a defensible spot and fortify the area. With a secure position, they can await the thousands 
of loyal bannermen that are on their way to aid his cause in the coming hours and days.
Fauconburg and Buckingham, on the other hand, advise Henry to ride on to St Albans, 
negotiate with York as he has done before, and bring this upsetting matter to a conclusion 
in peace rather than irreversible violence. Despite Somerset’s objection that 
St Albans is not a walled town and   the king will be powerless to enforce his 
rule should York decide to use violence, Henry negates his counsel and gives Somerset’s 
office of Constable of England to Buckingham. And in this mood, the royal 
party enters St Albans. Henry might have made it clear that he 
wished for discussion rather than fighting,   but his forces quickly set about 
establishing a perimeter and fortifying the routes into the town from the north.
They quickly ascertain that though the town does not have a wall, it is surrounded 
by a drainage ditch – known locally as   the Tonman – that can quickly substitute for a 
defensive work, especially given that the earth on the town side of the trench is raised and in most 
parts is topped with either a hedge or fence. While Henry establishes himself in 
St Andrews Chapel on the north west   corner of St Alban’s Abbey, and his 
ranks take their places in Moot Hall, his men on the town edge block the three roads of 
Cock Lane, Shropshire Lane, and Sopwell Lane. Heavy timber lengths – known as bars – seem 
to have been on hand to help with this task and the King’s men are glad of the convenience.
It is not long before York and his party arrive and take up position in the space known as Key 
Field, coming off the Hatfield Road before it merges into Cock Lane and likely marching 
alongside the Tonman Ditch for a time. Rather than the near 10,000 that had been mooted 
as his army’s number earlier in the morning, the Duke’s force is probably closer to 
3,000, but he still has a clear leverage. When the Yorkists set down in the Key 
Field, they are well within shooting   range of both longbow and even crossbow.
Although there has been no fighting between the two armies – with the exception of 
the clan warfare between the Nevilles   and Percys – senior men in both camps are 
veterans of the wars in France, as well as fighting along the Scottish borderlands.
York’s army possesses a contingent of 600 archers from the northern marches, commanded by 
Sir Robert Ogle – men who possess the ability to shower the entire town with a hailstorm 
of razor sharp bolts if the situation warrants a stiff demonstration of resolve.
From Holywell Hill, on which the town sits, the men manning Henry’s improvised 
rampart can spot two boys – verging on manhood – who are sporting at play fighting 
with one another amidst the Yorkist ranks. These are Edward and Edmund, sons of the 
Duke Richard. Even from the distance, Henry’s men note the auspicious height at which 
Edward stands, resplendent in his new armor. The heralds go back and forth between the Yorkist 
camp and the royal party. York’s man Mowbray gives the king the assurance that his master is not 
there to harm or threaten the monarch, merely to see to it that Somerset – the man who lost France 
and stole the king’s monies for himself – is arrested and put where he will do no more harm.
King Henry, for his part, will have no discussions with York while he is in arms with a 
force that appears to threaten his person,   and Mowbray attempts to assure the king that 
the men York and the Nevilles have brought to the field are there to protect and support 
him against the enemies within his court. Buckingham makes it plain in his 
messages outside that he is there   as an honest broker – a man of the king also – 
and takes no part with Somerset against York. Mowbray travels back and forth twice with these 
messages, but neither York nor the king will move from their respective standpoints. York demands 
“him that deserves death” – meaning Somerset – and Henry, possibly overruling the more cautious 
Buckingham, states boldly that any man who does not “void the field” and continues to offer 
resistance will be “hung, drawn, and quartered.” York and the Nevilles have now the choice 
between surrender and likely imprisonment   and death from a restored and vengeful 
Somerset and his allies, or else attempt to use the force at their disposal to seize him for 
themselves and take matters into hand like men. Their urgency is compounded by the raising 
of the royal standard which declares that the king intends to use violence against 
any one present that opposes his orders. Not only that, but anyone still in 
opposition would be designated a   traitor to the crown and they and their 
heirs would lose all inheritances. When Mowbray returns a third time to the Yorkist 
camp, still no further along in his negotiations, he finds the knights, men-at-arms, and infantrymen 
donning armor and mail and moving forth. York himself leads a force to Shropshire Lane, 
while Salisbury takes a company to Sopwell, both of which run parallel to one another.
Warwick, meanwhile, commands a reserve force slightly to the rear of these two parties, 
with Robert Ogle and the northern marchers alongside his mounted fighters.
York and Salisbury attempt to push through the lanes to get to the King and 
Somerset’s position, but the narrowness   of the passages confines their numbers and 
renders any attempt at archery ineffective. It’s likely too that most of the men – 
particularly on the Yorkist side – are   hesitant to mortally attack or fire 
on men in the company of the king. In any case, no headway is made 
toward the center of the town. The bars hold and York is increasingly agitated 
at the failure to move past the defenders. Increasingly forceful attempts to bludgeon 
past the bulwarks meet the same result. York and Salisbury must feel that the 
ground is sinking away beneath their   horses’ hooves and their armor runs with sweat.
Two village laneways are the difference between salvation and a life that leads only to 
gallows or the executioner’s block. On the other side, Henry, Somerset, and all 
of their company had been stunned at the onset of the attack, and many of them 
were without armor or even taking mid   morning food and drinks at St Alban’s taverns.
Now, they are preparing themselves for battle and rushing forth to reinforce the men in the lanes.
York can see these additions sprinting forward and he despairs that his numerical advantage 
has come to naught in the tiny alleys. But behind him, Warwick has seen the opening.
Rather than rushing his numbers behind York or his father Salisbury to add to the press, he sends 
Ogle forward with the archers and opens up with a volley on the now lightly defended Tonman Ditch.
Those men standing guard on the makeshift rampart duck out of the path of 600 onrushing 
and lethal missiles and then stay down when the same number cuts through the air 
around them less than 10 seconds later. Warwick gives a shout and his knights 
and men-at-arms charge ahead – jumping   the trench and earthen rampart as though they 
are at the hunt – and then crashing into the gardens and plots that lie behind.
Once they are through, there is no getting them out, and Yorkist horsemen and 
infantry begin to stream in after them. Warwick leads his crew past the houses and up to 
Holywell Hill and St Peter’s Street. Once there, emerging between the Key and Chequers Inns, 
they fan out in both directions and rain down blows and hacking slashes with sword and 
lance on the unsuspecting Lancastrians. The royal party and Somerset are overwhelmed 
by this sudden appearance. Henry’s household guard form up and attempt to defend the king 
at the southern end of St. Peter’s Street, which is wide enough that it is used as a 
livestock market. This suits the attackers, for they are ever growing in numbers.
Those men defending the lanes for the king have realized that they are in 
danger of being surrounded and begin   to fall back. York and Salsbury rush 
forward with all of the frustration of their futile attacks venting itself on 
the hapless and unfortunate escapees. Somerset and a small number of retainers attempt 
to barricade themselves in the Castle Inn, in a side street off the main square.
But the king is a much more visible target. Warwick’s archers and the men hurtling in from the 
lanes fire volleys of arrows at his exposed guard, and they quickly blanch under the onslaught. 
Henry himself is struck around the shoulder and taken to a cottage where York’s men find 
him and put him under the Duke’s protection. Henry’s upset and agitation is hardly helped 
by the fact that the owner of the cottage is a tanner, or maker of leather – a trade that 
involves the retention and stripping of animal hides and soaking them in a urine solution.
The delicate monarch is far from his usual and accustomed surroundings.
Outside, the royal standard that had flown in glory on the field of Agincourt 
is left lying in the gutter by Henry’s dead and departing bodyguard.
With the king safely in custody, York moves to find Somerset, which he 
does, and the Castle Inn is surrounded. Seeing that the end is at hand, Somerset 
rushes from the front door and kills   four of York’s men before he is finally 
brought down and dies on the street. Through the now electric atmosphere on the main 
street – men walk around unsteadily as though they have only just watched a hurricane blow through 
– King Henry is quickly transported to the Abbey, his jailors weaving their way through the 
strewn corpses and over blood soaked cobbles. Henry Percy, Early of Northumberland is 
found amongst the dead – a satisfying revenge slaying for the Nevilles.
In spite of the fact that thousands took part in the fighting, the chroniclers 
are unanimous that fewer than 200 died on both sides in what would eventually become 
known as the 1st Battle of St. Albans. For the moment, Englishmen are still reluctant to 
kill their own brethren, but that morality will erode as the bloodshed drags on over 
months, years, and eventually decades. With York’s capture of Henry and the killing of 
Somerset, there is no doubt among any of the men standing under St. Alban’s churches and taverns on 
this sunny summer’s day that a new line has been crossed, but there are surely none who can predict 
that the fighting will only end with the death of York’s youngest child, Richard – a boy born not 
three winters’ previous – in 30 years’ time. For the moment, the advantage lies 
with York, but even he knows that   this single action will not and can not 
prevent the spilling of yet more blood, and his fate is a hazy picture of 
uncertainty and inevitable violence. From the tremors of St. Albans’ 
streets, England has begun to quake…