The Tudor Century.

England adopting agnatic succession is something I would never anticipate.

I'd think that another king down the line would remove it once he realizes he won't have any sons.
Which would likely trigger a full on succession war as the "heir" and the heiress duke it out. War of English Succession anyone? Though I don't know that's where Saepe Fidelis is going with this.
 
Which would likely trigger a full on succession war as the "heir" and the heiress duke it out. War of English Succession anyone? Though I don't know that's where Saepe Fidelis is going with this.

Yeah. Henry is the type of person whose forcefulness is well-known; after all, it was his quest for a son (and the question of his marriage with Catherine of Aragon's legitimacy) that led to the birth of the Church of England.

Plus, with chaos erupting elsewhere on the Continent, Henry can't afford to fight a war on his throne.
 
Sorry I was referring to the whole another King revoking it down the line thing and then a war akin to the dynastic roots of the 100 Years War meets maybe the War of Austrian Succession breaking out.
 
I like this TL, but I suprised to see that no one has mentioned, that the free county of Burgundy (Franche Comté) was also a part of the HRE:p.

As I've already said, I can't do maps for shit, so pay no attention to it.

Oh, and the point of Parliament and the uncodified English constitution is that it can't bind its successors, so the adoption of Salic Law needn't be permanent. Remember: Henry is a fickle man.

Oh, and merry Christmas.
 
As I've already said, I can't do maps for shit, so pay no attention to it.

Oh, and the point of Parliament and the uncodified English constitution is that it can't bind its successors, so the adoption of Salic Law needn't be permanent. Remember: Henry is a fickle man.

Oh, and merry Christmas.


MERRY CHRISTMAS I'm Looking forward to your next installment.
 
The Tudor Century, Part III: 1535-1546.


When news of Francis's heresy reached Henry Tudor, he saw a golden opportunity to prove his virtue to Europe. He promised to personally take up arms against Francis and the Protestants, despite growing discontent at home over the Catholic Church, and he ordered the Royal Navy prepared for war. He also mobilised the county militias which had been reformed by his brother, and engaged the services of 4,000 Flemish mercenaries. The English Army assembled at Tournai throughout 1533 and 1534, and Henry himself arrived there in May 1534 to much fanfare. He met with a Papal Legate who gave him a banner blessed by Pope Clement and gave him and his soldiers a special indulgence, which forgave them of all their sins. Henry then made the plunge south into France.


Francis, meanwhile, was frantically trying to liquidate the capital stocks of French monasteries in order to fund the new war he had pitched himself into. The monasteries around Paris were the first to go, and hordes of administrators and evaluators flocked into each abbey to tally their treasures before seizing them and bringing them to the Royal Treasury, where they were melted down or sold off. The programme of liquidation begun in 1533 would not be complete until after Francis's death, as France had so many monasteries, and many were defended valiantly either by their monks, long used to exemption from Royal control, or by devout Catholic locals, who saw the dissolution of the monasteries as the first step towards Protestantism. In other areas, usually in urban centres or in prosperous areas, monasteries were liquidated almost with relish by the urban bourgeois, who had been the first demographic group to turn to Protestantism. Thus the urban monasteries of west and north France were the ones who suffered the most, whereas the hill top monasteries of the Massif Central went untouched for more than five decades. The capital raised by Francis was, however, enough to keep himself in the war. With the money he kept his soldiers paid, and thus loyal, while also engaging the services of over 10,000 mercenaries from 1533-1540. Francis's reforms, however, and the pressure on France's borders caused by Habsburg and English intrusions, would cause enormous unrest in French society. Almost immediately after Francis separated himself from the Pope, cabals of nobles formed in order to protect the Roman Catholic Church in France, and also to topple Francis from his throne. It was the action of Francis's mother, Louise of Savoy, who helped to keep her son on the throne. She used her extensive web of friends and contacts to keep tabs on the most suspect nobles. She thus kept her son informed of the machinations of his supposed subjects, and allowed him to quietly and ruthlessly exterminate them.


The situation in France only worsened in 1535, when Charles V invaded through Burgundy with a force of 30,000 men made up of Germans and Spaniards. They besieged Metz, which held out for nine months. In the meantime, Francis mustered his army. The power of the French aristocracy was still great, and many of the Catholic lords, especially the still very Medieval lords of the south and east (that is, those least exposed to commerce and the Renaissance which was afoot in Paris and the West), refused to come to Francis when he needed them most, and instead sided with Charles. Francis, however, did not need them, for he had found another source of men and material. Franci's urban classes had long been fed up with the corrupt Catholic Church and its tax exempt status. The Church had been involved in commerce for decades, untaxed and unchecked, while the artisans' and merchants' guilds were squeezed tighter and tighter. Thus, when Francis promised to confiscate clerical wealth, the Guilds flocked to his cause. With the enormous capital of both the Guilds and the Church on his side, Francis could raise huge armies of crossbow and arquebus wielding men, as well as pikemen and even some cavalry. Furthermore, the Royal monopoly of artillery had left him with uncontested control of the most powerful wing of his army. Thus, the Royal counter-attack of 1536 was well funded, well equipped and well manned.


Francis first turned to Henry, thinking that it would be easier to knock England out of the war than Charles. He met Henry at Arras on the 24th March 1535. Henry had with him 10,000 men to Francis's 16,000. Henry, however, had fewer guns and musket men, whereas Francis had fewer cavalry. The battle began with a barrage of artillery, as Francis sprayed the Tudor lines with fire from his batteries hidden in the rear. They were inaccurate and often misfired, yet the battery put hearts on edge and worried the English horses. Henry ordered his infantry advance under the cover of a volley of arrow fire, which failed to dent the huge French formations of pikemen, which sat in squares around the battlefield. Francis had positioned the squares so as to draw the English in , so that he could surround them and hopefully capture Henry. Henry, however, refused to take the bait and ordered his flanks advance while his centre hold back. When they began to close range, Francis's musketeers began to pour fire into the English lines. After a second volley, 2,000 militiamen routed, not to play any further part in the battle. The English infantry managed to make a dent in Francis's pikemen, yet they became bogged down in a protracted melee. Henry then personally led a charge of 1,000 horsemen into the French left flank, where they were weakest and broke through and scattered them, thus breaking Francis's left wing. Francis then led a counter charge which failed to pierce through the English ranks, and he withdrew. The battle continued for another three hours before nightfall, when a truce was called. Heralds from Francis's camp came to Henry and asked for terms. Henry accepted, and the two kings met face to face under an old elm tree.


They conversed in Latin, which they were both fluent in, and Francis expressed his desire for peace with Henry, and peace for all of Europe. He said, however, that he feared the predations of Charles, and said that the young Emperor dreamed of a universal monarchy. Henry nodded at this, and said that he would not fight Charles, whom was married to to niece and who had backed his claim to the throne in 1521, yet he also said that he would not let the Holy Roman Empire rule all of Europe. Francis stressed that France was the last bastion in the West against Imperial power; all else was ruled by Charles, directly or indirectly. Henry then made his demands. He offered to leave the continent, never to take up arms against Francis again lest he breach the peace in any unlawful manner, on the condition that the French King marry his son, Henry, to his daughter Margaret, on the condition that Henry promise to resign any claim to the English throne that he might claim from this marriage. Francis acceded to this, and the deal was done. Two months later, Henry was in London and Margaret was in Rheims being married to the Dauphin.


When Charles heard of Henry's duplicity he raged against his brother-in-law, calling him a traitor and a coward. However, once be calmed down, he sent messengers to England offering incentives for Henry to re-join the fighting. He promised Henry financial subsidies and territorial concessions in France and the Low Countries if only he would cross the Channel once more. Francis, meanwhile, was readying his forces for a counter-attack on Charles's forces, which were entrenched around Metz, which was on the verge of surrender. Francis raised 20,000 men from the Seine Valley and from Lower Flanders, and marched them east, gathering more men as he went while ransacking monasteries as he passed by. The campaign was less a legal liquidation of assets and more the plunder one would expect of an invading army. For his ransacking of monasteries Francis would receive the sobriquet 'the Norseman' after the Viking raiders who burnt so many monasteries some six hundred years previously. Francis met Charles outside Metz in August 1535 and fought him to a standstill there. Both sides were exhausted, yet Francis had reinforcements coming whereas Charles was alone. Soldiers from Spain were massing in the Pyrenees and were raiding Toulouse, yet they were too far to help the Emperor. The Flemish Army, meanwhile, was engaged putting down a rebellion once more. The great commercial city of Antwerp had risen in rebellion led by its Protestant bourgeoisie; they had raised a militia and sufficient funds to engage 500 mercenaries. The First Dutch Uprising, as it would later be titled, would last four years from 1515-1539 and would eat away at Charles's already depleted finances.


The Battle of Thionville was the second engagement fought by Francis and Charles along the Moselle River. The town of Thionville was some 30 km north of Metz, and Charles was gathering his forces there to cross the river and outflank Francis. However, the French King had been tipped off about this, and was ready. He placed his artillery on the western bank of the Moselle, and bombard the Habsburg forces as they attempted to cross. Charles, with around a quarter of his army already on the other bank of the river, was forced to press on lest he lose a full quarter of his forces without a contest, and crossed himself with 1,000 German horsemen, themselves under heavy artillery fire.


The difficult crossing was followed by a hail of gunfire from Francis's arquebusiers, whose volleys threw up a cloud of smoke which blotted the battlefield and reduced visibility. The Habsburg forces were clustered in a small bridgehead around the town of Thionville itself and were unable to break out. After two hours of morale shattering bombardment, the Habsburg forces on the eastern bank, led by his brother Ferdinand, King of Hungary, Bohemia and of the Romans, decided to withdraw. Ferdinand hoped to make a second assault on the river, yet was left with little choice but to abandon his brother. Charles, unable to see his retreating forces, decided it would be best to try and attack the French lines, whom he assumed to be running out of ammunition. He proved wrong in this, however, and his forces sustained heavy casualties both from arquebus fire and from French crossbowmen. They engaged the French forces atop a low hill, and from here Charles saw that his forces were alone in the fight, and that his brother had withdrawn. When he saw this he ordered a retreat, which soon became a rout. Charles and his personal bodyguards fought a rearguard action, and it was during this that Charles was toppled from his horse and captured by a nameless French infantryman. The rest of the Habsburg forces crossed the Moselle by swimming, as the bridge had been heavily bombarded, and many drowned due to their state of exhaustion.


Charles was held for ransom by Francis after the battle, and Ferdinand sent heralds to the French camp to negotiate for his release. Francis demanded an end to the fighting and the payment of 30 million livres. This crippling amount of money would force peace even if Charles wished to keep fighting, yet Ferdinand had little choice. The money was scraped together, and the Empire nearly bankrupted. Charles was released, and signed a peace treaty called the Treaty of the Moselle, which recognised Francis as lawful King of France and the French Kingdom's borders as inviolable.


When word of the Emperor's capture made its way to England, Henry was at once concerned for his ally and brother-in-law, but also relieved, as he hoped that the Emperor's capture would put an end to the war in Europe and the strife with France. Henry hoped to aggrandise his own holdings, yet he did not want Charles to control Europe either. In the meanwhile, by 1536 Henry was bankrupt. His wars with France had cost the Treasury inordinate amounts of money, and he had greatly depleted the war chest left him by his brother and his father. He needed revenue if he was to fight any more wars. Like Francis, he first turned to the monasteries. He did not want to jeopardise his exalted position as Europe's most chivalrous Lord, so he wrote to Pope Clement VIII asking for a special dispensation to tax the clergy and the monasteries in order to fight Francis. He Pope, however, knew Henry too well. More knew that Henry just wanted to extend his domains, win glory for himself and to strengthen his family's hold on the throne. He therefore turned Henry down, bidding him leave to God what is God's.


The Dissolution of the Monasteries in England was a good deal more systematic and more civilised than in France; unlike Francis, Henry kept his own council, and did not broadcast his passions to everyone who would hear them. Thus, no one but the King and the Privy Council knew of his intentions before 1538. In the two years between his decision to seize monastic property and his actual going through with it, Henry eliminated any dissent from within; 14 men were beheaded for treason because they opposed the plan in private. In 1537 Henry ordered Wolsey to send his secretary, Thomas Cromwell, to all 826 monastic establishments in England, including the Cictercian monasteries which were exempt even from Papal oversight, in order to catalogue their wealth and holdings both in terms of chattels and in land. In March 1538, Parliament passed a Bill which forbade clergy from referring their grievances to Rome; instead, they would have to consult the King on all matters that affected their temporal possessions. Finally, in September 1538, Henry had Parliament pass the Act of Reduction, which would liquidate the larger monasteries in England and Wales, which Henry claimed to be dens of vice and licence. He said that they did not deserve the goods and lands bestowed on them for their supposed purity, and throughout 1538 and 1539, Royal constables ransacked the 236 monasteries identified as worthy of notice. Their lands were seized by the Crown and either kept as Crown Lands or given to nobles for favours, or otherwise sold off to wealthy merchants, who could now style themselves country lords.


The final closure of the monasteries was completed in 1541, when Parliament passed the Act of Dissolution, which closed all monasteries and appropriated all their properties to the Crown. The programme of closures and seizures was only concluded after Henry's death, yet all the main monasteries were closed by 1547. In the meanwhile, over 400 men were executed for treason because they obstructed the Royal Constables charged with taking over the monasteries. There was also a rift opening up in the upper echelons of English society and governance. There was a growing number of Protestants, who wanted to completely break from Rome and establish a 'Low Church' similar to that called for by Martin Luther, without Bishops or ornaments. Others, however, called for remaining with Rome, without monasteries. The King was one of these men; he did not want to abandon the linchpin of Christendom because of his own greed, despite his naked aggression towards the Catholic Church. There was little surprise when in 1542 the Papal Legate excommunicated Henry and with him the entire kingdom. For two weeks, Henry did not leave his apartments; he did not shave, nor did he eat properly. When he finally emerged, it was only at the bidding of his wife who finally ordered the servants to break down the doors to Henry's chamber. She found him sitting on the floor sobbing, yet she picked him up and carried him to his wash stand where she doused him with water and then bid the servants leave. No one knows quite what she said to the King, yet fifteen minutes later he came out to find Wolsey waiting for him.


Henry met with leading thinkers and theologians, including Edward Foxe and Thomas Cranmer, two men who would do very well out of Henry's actions. They persuaded him that a clean break with Rome would be much better than trying to cling to More's vestments, when he clearly wanted nothing to do with Henry. Some counter-factual historians have claimed that Wolsey, himself keen on a break with Rome, had briefed these two politically inexperienced churchmen about the King's insecurities, and that they were nudging him in Wolsey's preferred direction. There is absolutely no evidence for this, and Wolsey's following fall from grace seems to dispel any theories about his involvement in the plan. In May 1543 Parliament passed the Enabling Act, which gave Henry new ecclesiastic powers, including the power to appoint Bishops and Archbishops, as well as the right to decide on spiritual matters rather than having to defer to Rome. In reality, Henry delegated theological problems to Foxe and Cranmer, who were his clerical work horses, creating a new doctrine which the new Church could adhere to.


In 1546 William Wake, the Archbishop of Canterbury, was executed for treason because he refused to accept Royal Primacy, primarily over his refusal to use the Royally-sanctioned book of prayer, written by Cranmer. Replacing him as Archbishop was Cranmer himself, who was chosen above Foxe because he was seen as less radical. Instead, Foxe became Bishop of Durham, and between them the two men created the new High Anglican Church.


After the Act of Dissolution, the Treasury was once more awash with funds, and Henry was free to continue his programme of largesse, especially when it came to building. He ordered the construction of a new Royal Palace at Kew, which he named Thames House. It was a huge structure of white limestone, and was placed amid ten thousand hectares of grounds on either side of the Thames River. There were formal gardens which were laid out symmetrically with mazes and flower beds, but also large areas of parkland, where the King and his retinue would hunt. North of the river was the Royal hunting lodge, which was itself a remarkable piece of architecture as it had more glass windows than any other building of comparable size built before. The Palace itself was the largest in England, and one of the largest in Europe. Henry kept Court here, and he spent his final years away from the capital in the pleasant Thames Valley.


The new funds, however, were not just in the hands of the King. Thomas Wolsey had made himself one of the richest men in England because of the Dissolution of the monasteries, and Henry began to trust him less and less. Wolsey's overbearing manner and his enormous wealth made him an easy object of hatred. The other members of the Privy Council finally convinced Henry to remove him. Wolsey was arrested and found guilty of treason. He was executed on the 26rd July 1545. with the death of Wolsey, the old guard of ministers was gone. More was in Rome, trying to hold together a Church which seemed intent upon tearing itself apart; King Arthur, Richard Foxe, Dudley, Epsom; they were all dead. Only Henry remained. The only person who challenged him was his wife, whom he loved most dearly. Antoinette de Bourbon, however, died in 1546 while giving birth to their third child, who also died shortly after. Henry had two children-Arthur, who in his youth had been called Stephen, yet whose name had been changed because of Henry's grief over his brother's death. Arthur was twenty six and displayed more of his uncle's traits than his father. He was quiet and studious, and had taken the Reformation to heart. However, he was also a pragmatist and would often sit in on Privy Council meetings and advise his father; it seemed that the old Arthur and Henry relationship may have returned. He was married to Catherine Howard, daughter of a wealthy landowner, and he already had two daughters, Mary and Anne. Henry's second child was Margaret, who was married to Prince Henry the Dauphin of France. She would always worry Henry, because although Henry had resigned any claim to the English throne, the King still worried that the young man might try his hand at taking another crown, and so cautioned Arthur against indulging his French brother-in-law.
 
We have France acting like England and England acting like France...

How is the New World?

Pretty much the same-no power has enough resources or indeed enough will to systmatically conquer it yet, so it's a golden age of conquistadors and explorers and maybe a few dseperate souls trying to makea new life there. There aren't really any settler colonies though.
 
Pretty much the same-no power has enough resources or indeed enough will to systmatically conquer it yet, so it's a golden age of conquistadors and explorers and maybe a few dseperate souls trying to makea new life there. There aren't really any settler colonies though.

So Cortés' little adventure goes the same as OTL's?
 
Just a quick notice:
sorry I haven't posted for a while now, but I've been in Wales so I've been unable to update. I'm back in sunny London now, and I'll try and post relatively soon. Oh, and happy new year.
 
The Tudor Century, Part III: 1546-1558.



Up until 1546 Henry had lived in accordance to the principles instilled in him during his youth; that is, chivalry, thrift (this he had trouble with), martial prowess and moderation in all affairs. His tutors noted that he lived by these rules not because he felt any great attachment to them, but because he felt that it was expected of him. They noted a young man who lived up to his expectations and lived to impress those around him. Thus, when his cold and distant father loomed over him, he became what people hoped and expected of the younger prince, and became the centre of their affections. When his brother reigned, he became the lancer, the impetuous knight errand-Arthur's Lancelot, so to speak. When he himself ruled, he lived according to the virtues which he was taught every King must have, and thus he was the paragon of Christian virtue. However, as his reign progressed, the people whose hopes and expectations had kept him on a virtuous path began to die. When his wife and anchor died in 1546, he had no one to live for. He had devoted his entire life to someone, whether it was his father, his brother or his wife. His once restrained behaviour began to boil over into something hideous, for decades of repression came rushing back to him just at the time when there was no one left to reign him in. Some modern psychoanalysts have seen this as a very severe mid life crisis, exacerbated by political pressures. Others have guessed that his later years were the manifestation of a deep-seated psychosis which had previously been diverted, whether it was by rivalry with Francis I or the Church and which now showed itself for the naked madness which only an autocrat can allow himself to possess.


Whatever the causes, Henry's final five years on earth would see him degenerate further and faster than any of his predecessors. One anonymous author wrote 'it seems that in the skin of our Augustus we instead find a Tiberius.' In the year of his death, 1552, only one member of Henry's Privy Council had sat there for more than two years, and he was Thomas Cranmer. He got through Chancellors especially quickly-six in five years. This led to a paralysis in the Kingdom's policy enactment, as Henry would find his servants either too afraid to carry out his orders lest they fail and find themselves in line for beheading, or were too inexperienced to enact policy effectively. Henry's growing paranoia fuelled this constant Council reshuffling and the last five years of his reign would almost negate the previous ten due to their destructiveness. The once powerful Royal Navy rotted in Portsmouth and Chatham for lack of funds, and the programme of monastery liquidation was continued only in fits and starts by ecclesiastical authorities. Fear ran through the Royal Court, which was permanently relocated to Thomas House, where they lived surrounded by Henry's spies. In 1548 Henry forced Parliament to pass the Seditious Conversations Act, which allowed evidence collected by informers of supposedly seditious conversations to be admitted in Court. This led to fear and reticence in Thames House, and any discussion of policy was constricted to Privy Council meetings, where Henry would dominate the proceedings, usually browbeating individual Councillors.


As the Kingdom's executive deteriorated, so too did Henry's health. He abandoned riding and hunting in favour of eating and drinking. He would regularly cavort with courtiers' wives with or without their consent (who could turn down a King-a paranoid, murderous one as well) as well as any other woman who took his fancy. He contracted syphilis in 1551 and suffered for months from excruciating pain related both to venereal disease and its treatments. He grew enormously obese, and developed stomach ulcers and great weeping sores which grew infected when he eventually developed incontinence. By early 1552 he was racked with disease, confined to his bed whether he wished to be there or not (not only paralysed from syphilis but too fat to walk) and gasping for breath from a chest infection. Everyone knew that the monster's days were numbered, and everyone looked to Arthur. The Prince, who feared his father more than anyone else (Henry had threatened to have his daughter in law flogged naked around the Palace), instructed the Royal doctors not to touch the ailing King. Whether this was his Protestant fatalism or him easing his way onto the throne is unknowable, yet what it knowable is that the King's final disease lasted four months. During this time, Arthur took his place in Privy Council meetings and effectively ran the country. At one point, the King's ring was needed to seal despatches to the Northern League of Protestant States, and so a servant was ordered into the King's bedchamber to remove it from his finger. The Royal finger, however, was too fat for the small ring to be removed (it had been designed for King Arthur, who had slender hands) and so pliers had to be fetched for to remove it. The band was eventually snapped off, yet not before almost removing the finger. The King, however, was too addled with fever to notice too much, and the Prince received the Ring and sent the despatches in his father's name.


On the 16th August 1552 King Henry VIII of England and Ireland was struck by a summer fever. He was racked by it for two days before he eventually died in the middle of the night. No one was in the room when he died, and when the Royal physician was alerted to the King's status, he was ordered by the Prince himself not to touch the King. Arthur, the physician and a handful of servants stood by the King as he breathed his last. His last words were incomprehensible, as his teeth had fallen out and his gums were infected due to scurvy (fruit had been removed from his diet on a doctor's advice three years before his death). Arthur left the room and went into the hall, where a large crowd of people had assembled, including the Venetian and Spanish Ambassadors. He informed them of his father's death, and he was acclaimed King by them.


Henry VIII's reign can be divided into two distinct periods; one of energy and enormous change, the other of dissolution and madness. Many historians have discounted the post-1546 Henry saying that his reign effectively ended in 1546 and that after that there was a virtual interregnum, as he had virtually no role in government. However, this underestimates the role of the King in English politics, a simple mistake to make so far from the actual events. The truth is that the final five years of Henry's reign did actual damage to England, not only internally but externally. In 1548 Henry III of France was crowned (with Henry's own daughter as his consort) and another war began between him and the Emperor Charles. This momentous event in European history passed unnoticed in Thomas House; Henry leapt neither to the cause of Protestantism or his son-in-law. His old indomitable will was gone; he was a broken man. In these five years, England's status on the Continent fell, and internally, England's economy floundered. Piracy abounded in the North Sea, unchecked by an underfunded Navy, and lawlessness increased markedly in England as hundreds of vagrants were produced by the appropriation of Church lands which left many without land or home. It could be said that it would have been better if Henry had died in 1546 with his wife than in 1552, alone and syphilitic, with everyone too afraid of him to touch him as he lay dying of fever.


Arthur II was crowned in Westminster Abbey on the 2nd September. He had already set himself up in Wolsey's old estate at Hampton Court. He met with many leading lights in England a week before his coronation, which would eventually crystallise into his circle of confidence. There was Cranmer and Foxe, who survived Henry's last days and had indeed flourished, as they revised the Anglican Church's dogma as they wished without too much interference. Two new men brought into the Royal inner circle were the Dukes of Somerset and Norfolk, whom Arthur had befriended as a young man (they were both a few years younger than him). Their first Privy Council meeting ended with Norfolk being made Lord Chancellor and Somerset being given the task of refitting the Royal Navy and reorganising the army.


Arthur's reign would be relatively short, as he came to the throne already a middle aged man, yet he would lay the foundations upon which his successor would build. He undid the damage done by his father, and brought the Navy and the country's defences back up to scratch, and in a brief campaign in 1553 he humiliated King James V of Scotland who was forced to abandon his fleet-building programme. Arthur also married his second daughter, Anne, to James' son John. Arthur's eldest daughter, Margaret, was married to Louis de Bourbon, who was Antoinette de Bourbon's nephew and who had advanced rapidly through the ranks of the French aristocracy due to his speedy conversion to Protestantism. His lands in the West were untouched by the brutal wars between Francis (then Henry) and Charles in the East and South, and he had led the French forces in the Battle of Avignon, which prevented Catholic forces from crossing the Rhone and which ended in the capture of Charles's nephew, whose ransom brought five years of peace. His position seemed advantageous, yet he was also ambitious.


King Arthur II ruled from 1552-1558, which was dwarfed by his father and by his daughter, yet his reign was a breathing space which England desperately needed. He lowered taxes and cut back Royal spending, and a period of growth and prosperity returned. He also sent three missions to the New World, one of which resulted in England claiming Newfoundland and the other two raided Spanish shipping. This would set a precedent for English colonial policy for the next century; minimal involvement, minimal expenditure yet maximum profits. Arthur died at Hampton Court Palace on the 4th December 1558 of a fever which could have been caused by diabetes, which almost certainly helped kill his father (among other things). He was buried with his father, uncle and grand father in Westminster Abbey, and his daughter, Margaret, was recognised as Queen. Her husband could not cross over the Channel immediately, so she was crowned alone as Queen of England and Ireland. She secretly promised Parliament and courtiers that she would rule in her own right, and would not let her husband dominate her. When she said this, they believed her, as she had lived apart from her husband for nine years because of her hatred of the French court and her loyalty to her father, who leaned on her for moral support. When Louis finally arrived in London, he was eventually crowned in a second joint ceremony, where Margaret handed him the orb, sceptre and crown rather than Cranmer. He spoke little to no English, and had no connections in England. No one was too worried, therefore, when he was crowned. When they looked at the Royal pair, seated on dual thrones in Westminster Abbey, they all knew who would rule and who would merely reign.
 
Very interesting, however, I think you may be a little over-optimistic about the economic recovery of Arthur's reign. The 1550s were a terrible decade in England not merely because of the excesses of Henry VIII, but more because of the hyperinflation brought on across Europe by the flood of Incan gold, and because of widespread global cooling as the little ice age began. ITTL, they'll probably merely be bad, rather than a catastrophe, but even so, I think more account needs to be taken on them.
 
Very interesting, however, I think you may be a little over-optimistic about the economic recovery of Arthur's reign. The 1550s were a terrible decade in England not merely because of the excesses of Henry VIII, but more because of the hyperinflation brought on across Europe by the flood of Incan gold, and because of widespread global cooling as the little ice age began. ITTL, they'll probably merely be bad, rather than a catastrophe, but even so, I think more account needs to be taken on them.

True, I suppose it's less actual growth and more stabilisation. Sorry uif I overstated it.
 
Well economic recovery is economic recovery I guess:D.
(no matter how small)

So with Arthur as king who will be next in line for succession?


And How strong is the english aristocracy as oppossed to OTL?
 
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