From The Bedford Hours

Hello history friends! I’m trying something different today, so here we go! Usually when I go to write a post, I plan it out carefully in advance, do my research and have my notes handy before I start typing. Today, I’m going entirely off-book and simply sharing some thoughts with you about a question that occurred to me this morning, simply because I think you might enjoy mulling it over, too.

This is also not going to be a post about historical reality: in fact, it’s the exact opposite. Normally I don’t go in for “what ifs” very much, for a number of reasons: there are too many unknowns to predict with any level of precision; I prefer researching to speculation; and frankly I’m just not that imaginative when it comes to alternate outcomes. This one caught my fancy, however, and I just can’t help myself! So in the spirit of pleasant diversion, let’s speculate!

John who?

As the die-hard Hundred Years War fans out there probably know, today marks the anniversary of the death of John, Duke of Bedford in 1435. For those unfamiliar, Bedford was a son of Henry IV of England and brother to Henry V, and he was named Regent for the 9-month-old Henry VI when his father died in 1422. Bedford commanded the forces fighting in France on behalf of the young king until his death, just days before the Treaty of Arras saw his former ally and onetime brother-in-law, the Duke of Burgundy, side with the French against the English.

John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford from The Bedford Hours. (Extreme bowl cut, aw yisssss.)

In a Twitter (I refuse to use the dumb new name) post commemorating the date, historian Matt Lewis hypothesized that Bedford was perhaps the best king that England never had. The idea has been proposed before, and it’s a fascinating debate. On the one hand, he was well-regarded at home for his sensible and measured guidance given to the young Henry VI, and unlike many royal uncles in the Middle Ages, Bedford seems to have been wholly loyal to his nephew and committed to setting him up for success. Some of Bedford’s contemporaries were critical of his unwavering devotion to winning the war in France on behalf of his brother (Henry V of Agincourt fame) due to the considerable strain put on the coffers of England’s treasury, but unlike the infant king’s two other uncles and closest advisors, Bedford did not engage in power struggles to advance his own personal position. On the other hand, Bedford has been justifiably criticized for other shortcomings, such as his role in the trial and execution of Joan of Arc.

Henry V

Yet Bedford’s merits as potential king are still not the topic I’ve been debating today. What if, instead of dying at age 46, reportedly visibly careworn and aged from the strain of the French wars, John had lived on into his 60s or even his 70s, as was not at all uncommon for noble men who survived high infant mortality rates and other childhood diseases? Could the Wars of the Roses even have been prevented?

As I said before, this is not an academic article or even a very serious think piece. I’m not going to be backing up my theorizing with hard facts, so if that’s what you’re looking for, thank you for coming but you’ll want to exit now; you’ll be sorely disappointed and frankly I’m not interested in serious scholastic sparring on this topic. If you’re down for a bit of frivolous historical reimagining, though, I hope you’ll come along on our merry jaunt!

‘What If’ #1: what if Bedford remained Henry VI’s chief advisor?

Ask almost any historian today what caused the Wars of the Roses and they’ll probably give you a look of “are you sure you want to do this?”, do the deep breath/big sigh combo thing, and then start in on 20 minutes of detailed background and analysis that will still probably leave you with furrowed brow and muddled mind. This isn’t a dig at any of those historians; it’s just an acknowledgement of the truly convoluted fact pattern that led to several decades of internal war and several throne swaps between 1450-1490. For today, though, let’s do the unthinkable: pick out just a couple contributing factors and oversimplify them for our purposes.

Henry VI, the king really not born to be king

Henry VI is often picked on as, if not the very worst, at least one of the weakest kings England has ever seen. That’s not an entirely unfair analysis, but in his defense, the poor boy became king of both England and France when he was less than a year old after his father died; he was removed from his mother’s care at a young age; and his upbringing was governed from then on by his two closest male relatives, one his uncle (Gloucester) and the other his great-uncle (Beaufort), who took opposite viewpoints on almost everything under the sun and apparently dedicated their political lives to bettering their own positions and one-upping each other without regard for the welfare of their nephew, their country or much of anything else. Add in that the job title of ‘king’ was probably the very last one Henry would ever have chosen for himself – he much preferred quieter pursuits like study, prayer and frankly not being continually pulled in opposite directions by everyone around him – and it’s easy to see that this heir to the hero of Agincourt was facing an uphill battle from the start.

Luckily for Henry, he had his uncle John of Bedford balancing and playing referee until he was almost 14, keeping Gloucester and Beaufort mostly at bay. After Bedford’s death, however, the tug-o-war over the king kicked into high gear, and Henry’s non-combative nature made him susceptible to the covert whisperings of his remaining uncles. Henry’s situation worsened in 1447, when both Gloucester and Beaufort died within months of each other, leaving the king without even the questionable guidance of his family and vulnerable to an influx of other nobles, all trying to secure favor with (and influence over) the impressionable king and his new bride, Margaret of Anjou.

Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester; self-described “son, brother and uncle of kings” & right self-absorbed you-know-what

The young couple, politically unprotected and insecure, clung to a small handful of close friends and advisors. Not only did that inner circle receive the royal largesse, but they had exclusive access to advise on matters of policy, finance and the ongoing overseas war. Far from being business as usual in England at the time, the exclusion of the remaining, non-favored nobles from the king’s council flew in the face of generations of English tradition, and those left out felt deep bruises to their pride and honor. Such ostracism led to active protests and eventually open rebellion from the Duke of York and his allies.

Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou

But what if the Duke of Bedford had survived his brother Gloucester and uncle Beaufort, not only preventing them from battling over the young king during their lifetimes but also remaining as Henry’s chief advisor into the 1450s or even later?

Given Bedford’s proven commitment to his role as the proverbial “mama bear” to his nephew during his lifetime, it would be reasonable to assume that he would have continued in that role, thereby minimizing the power struggle between Henry’s other uncles by arranging terms between them as he’d done in 1426. His keen administrative abilities and understanding of the important part played by the king’s council, demonstrated by his declared intentions to follow the will of the council in previous matters, further support a supposition that Bedford would have precluded the advancement of individual favorites that did so much damage to Henry’s reign and instead aided the king in drawing on the support of all his nobles. As the son of a previous king whose success and very life depending on the acknowledgement and acceptance of the nobility on both sides of the divide, Bedford would have known just how dangerous losing that support could be.

There’s no telling whether the continued presence of Bedford’s steadying hand could have prevented Henry VI’s mental collapse in 1453, but had he been present, it’s likely that the 64-year-old Bedford would have been put into the Lord Protector role once more, staving off power grabs from both Richard, Duke of York and Queen Margaret. A stable, well-run government during the king’s illness would have removed York’s initial reason for rebellion, which he stated was to see the king well-counseled by rightful advisors; without that motivation, it is unlikely that other malcontents would have had sufficient incentive to engage in internal warfare, either instead of or in addition to continuing martial efforts in France.

Richard, Duke of York in the Talbot Shrewsbury Book

Despite the many arenas in which I think Bedford would have made significant improvements during Henry VI’s reign, there remains an Achilles’ heel that I fear might have undone his good works elsewhere: his overzealous commitment to continuing the Hundred Years War in France. Bedford experienced a long period of success following his brother Henry V’s death in 1422; the English situation was even stable enough that he was able to return home to England in 1433. The reprieve was short-lived, however, and Bedford was back in Paris by 1434. By 1435, just months before Bedford’s death, English fortunes had fallen far enough that peace talks were being held at Arras, and John was forced to acknowledge that concessions were unavoidable and reconciliation with the Burgundians was impossible.

Given the level-headedness with which Bedford seemed to approach most things, one would hope that had he survived, Bedford would have come to accept the futility of further fighting in France at least for the immediate future and returned to his nephew’s side to address domestic issues that had been pushed aside for far too long. We cannot know for sure, however, and considering Bedford’s obvious dedication to upholding his brother’s legacy, the possibility that he would have continued to doggedly pursue the reclamation of French territory, despite the crippling cost to England, remains.

‘What If’ #2: what if Bedford provided an alternate Lancastrian heir?

In the same year as her husband’s mental collapse, Queen Margaret of Anjou gave birth to their only child, Edward of Westminster. Despite surviving to the age of 17 and his father’s instability, this Prince of Wales never ascended to the throne; he was killed at the Battle of Tewkesbury in 1471, fighting for his father’s right to the English crown. Even had Edward survived the battle, it seems there may have been some concern about his ability to rule. Whether these fears were founded in logical fact or not, some worried that Henry VI’s debilitating condition may have passed to his son. Others were suspicious of his mother, the foreign queen, and distrusted what she may have taught him while he was in her custody during the wars. Another rumor persisted for years that even as a boy Edward was exceptionally cruel, despite a lack of documented evidence.

Drawing of Edward of Westminster

Regardless of the reasons why, the English nobility found themselves with a king who was frequently incapacitated, and a young heir who inspired little or no confidence. The alternative was the king’s cousin and next closest male relative, Richard of York, whose claim to the throne was debatably equal but who was not only an adult but also a tried-and-tested military commander and political leader. The dividing line between the two sides tended to put those who defended the king’s right to be king, despite his shortcomings, on the side of King Henry VI; while those who were weary after years of weak leadership and ongoing battles supported the Duke of York.

Our scene is set for another BIG ‘what if’: what if there had been a third contender for the throne, one who was more closely related to Henry VI than the Duke of York and also came from a line untainted by mental illness? In other words, if John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford, had lived long enough to have a son with his second wife, Jacquetta of Luxembourg, could that child have become the next king of England and headed off the wars between Lancaster and York?

I can hear the immediate protests already: “but Bex, Bedford was married to Jacquetta for two whole years before he died and they never had a child! And he never had one with his first wife, either! It sounds pretty far-fetched.” Is it, though? While the duke died without a legitimate heir, it’s not unreasonable to consider that had he lived longer, the reality might easily have been different.

John and his first wife, Anne of Burgundy, remained childless throughout their decade of marriage, but we know that John had fathered an illegitimate son prior to their wedding. We also know that during her second marriage, Jacquetta and her then-husband Richard Woodville had an absolute plethora of children who survived to adulthood, so both John and Jacquetta were capable of having children at least at some point in their lives. Any number of reasons may have prevented them from having children during their two years of marriage, whether it was separation due to the demands of war, the impact of stress and responsibility on John’s health, or even Jacquetta’s young age (she was married at 16 or 17).

Anne of Burgundy, The Bedford Hours

So if we presume that in our alternate universe, the Bedfords did have a son that survived, what might have made him a stronger candidate to be king than Henry VI, Edward of Westminster or Richard of York? Without drowning in the minute details of royal inheritance, let’s look at why Bedford Junior’s claim to the throne would have been stronger than that of York.

In the 15th century (and well past, but that’s for another day), the English monarchy was inherited according to the rules of male-preferenced primogeniture. (Warning: massive oversimplification ahead, but it should suffice for our purposes.) This meant that when one king died, his oldest legitimate male child inherited the throne. If the king had no children who could inherit, the throne might pass to the king’s younger brother if he had one, but if not, the throne would revert to the next oldest son of the deceased king’s father – in other words, the dead king’s eldest uncle on his father’s side.

In our scenario, if Henry VI was out of the picture either due to his death or after being ousted as a result of his incapacity, his son Edward would inherit. Unless, of course, Edward had predeceased Henry, had been declared illegitimate, or had been otherwise excluded from the succession for whatever reason. If we play out our ‘what if’ here, presuming the Duke of Bedford survived past 1435 and was still living at the time Edward of Westminster was removed as an heir to the throne, Bedford would have been next in line. To take it a step further, if Bedford had a son, that son would have also been the closest male relative and therefore next in succession after his father.

John, 1st Duke of Bedford’s arms, differentiated from his father Henry IV’s by the points across the upper quarters; The Bedford Hours

Why would this matter? Because the Bedford line would have superceded the Duke of York’s line, which stemmed from a brother of Henry VI’s great-grandfather, John of Gaunt. As a much closer branch on the family tree, the claim of Bedford and his heirs would have taken higher precedence over the claim of Richard of York. It’s possible that if the succession had passed to a Bedford, York still may have raised his hand and said “hey, if we’re passing the throne outside of the direct line to whomever has a claim…I’m such a “whomever,” so consider me, too!” With another ready, viable contender so closely related, however, I doubt York’s claim would have gained the traction that it did in reality, when he was literally the king’s next closest male kin.

So there you have it, folks. A few fun-to-think-about considerations, reflecting on how English history might have looked very different if John, Duke of Bedford hadn’t died 588 years ago today but instead continued in his role as selfless elder statesman and perhaps furthered his own lineage.

Further Reading

If you enjoyed this article, you may also enjoy my other articles about this time period:

This Week in History: The Death of Henry V
OTD 1453: End of the Hundred Years’ War
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Tudor Family Tree

https://www.hrp.org.uk/media/2935/tudor-dynasty-family-tree-school-resource.pdf

Tudor Timeline

  • 1485: Battle of Bosworth, Henry Tudor’s army defeats King Richard III. Richard is killed; Henry becomes King Henry VII.
  • 1509: Henry VII dies and is succeeded by his second son as Henry VIII. The new king marries Catherine of Aragon, his deceased older brother’s wife.
  • 1516: the future Mary I is born to Henry and Catherine
  • 1533: Henry VIII divorces Catherine of Aragon and marries Anne Boleyn; the future Elizabeth I is born 
  • May 1536: Anne Boleyn is charged with treason and executed; Henry marries Jane Seymour 11 days later
  • October 1537: Jane Seymour gives birth to Henry’s first legitimate son, the future Edward VI; Jane dies 12 days later of complications
  • January 1540: Henry VIII marries Anne of Cleves
  • July 1540: Henry divorces Anne of Cleves and marries Catherine Howard
  • 1542: Catherine Howard is executed for treason
  • 1543: Henry VIII marries Katherine Parr
  • 1547: Henry VIII dies; his only legitimate son, Edward VI, becomes king at age 9
  • 1553: Edward VI dies after naming his cousin Jane Grey as queen; Jane reigns 11 days before Mary I regains the throne
  • 1554: Mary makes an unpopular marriage with the future Philip II of Spain
  • 1558: Mary I dies and is succeeded by her half-sister Elizabeth I 
  • 1587: Mary, Queen of Scots is executed on Elizabeth’s orders
  • 1588: Elizabeth’s navy defeats the Spanish Armada led by her former brother-in-law, Philip II of Spain
  • 1603: Elizabeth I dies, ending the Tudor dynasty

The Queens of SIX and Their Pop Influences

https://www.bbc.com/news/newsbeat-45739935

https://www.allmusic.com/blog/post/six-the-musical-how-henry-viiis-six-wives-reflect-the-influences-of-contemp

https://www.cheatsheet.com/entertainment/six-the-musical-which-modern-day-pop-stars-are-the-queens-inspired-by.html/

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I am thrilled to be speaking at Tudorcon again this year! The event will take place September 8-10, 2023 in Lancaster County, PA with a fantastic lineup of speakers, including the fabulous Tracy Borman live from England.

This time I’ll be walking you through the wonderful world of Tudor gardens and introducing you to those who designed, cared for, and introduced new plants to them. We’ll talk about their roots in the monastic healing gardens of the Middle Ages and their drastic expansion during the Renaissance, when they became the hobby and obsession of the middle classes as well as of the ultra-rich. We’ll see how European exploration introduced many exotic new plants to England, widening the garden’s scope and fueling a passion among scholars and nobles for collecting these new species and adapting them to the English climate.

Get your in-person or virtual tickets today at https://www.englandcast.com/tudorcon/

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Henry VIII, Elizabeth I & Anne Boleyn ornaments: and you thought your family holidays got awkward….
Photo by R.A. Stockton

Happy holidays! As I write, we’re in the days between Christmas and New Year’s; you know, that weird week we all spend in a food coma, time feels upside down, and just about everything seems irrelevant. (That’s not just me, right? Whew, good.) The holiday season is winding down for most people, and while it may promise relief from the hustle and bustle, returning to “life as usual” can also be a bit of a letdown.

Back in 2020, when the New Year blues were looming even larger than usual given the disastrous state of the world, I found myself mildly obsessed with researching historical holiday customs. Prompted by the Lucy Worsley “12 Days of Tudor Christmas” documentary on PBS, I dove eagerly down that rabbit hole – and let me tell you, it was a fantastic, timely boredom buster during those dark pandemic days!

The more I learned since then about the traditions followed in the medieval and Tudor periods, the more I wanted to try some out for myself. (Not all of them, of course; I freely admit that I’ve cherry-picked the parts that would be both enjoyable and accessible for modern participants.) I decided that this was finally the year to try my hand, so we’ve invited a small group of friends to join us in a week for a Twelfth Night party!

Why Twelfth Night?

For any readers who may not be familiar with the festive schedule observed in much of Christian Europe prior to the Reformation, scheduling a Christmas-related celebration once January is in full swing might seem an odd choice, but a 16th-century person wouldn’t bat an eye at the timing. For her, the period leading up to Christmas Day would have looked very, very different than our modern-day frenzy of decorating, shopping, cooking and parties.

Our Tudor friend would have spent the Advent period in sober fasting and contemplation, and not until Christmas Eve would she have brought in the seasonal greenery to decorate her home. She would have enjoyed a much-anticipated feast on Christmas Day, but she wouldn’t exchange gifts with her family and friends until New Year’s Day. She would continue with a variety of observations, both somber and cheerful, until January 5th, the final night of the festivities. Then, Twelfth Night would bring the biggest celebration, with special treats and games to bid farewell to the revelry until the following year. January 6th marked Epiphany, and the next Monday signaled the return to work and the beginning of the new farming year. (Read more about Plough Monday here.)

The search for period recipes begins.
Photo by R.A. Stockton

Twelfth Night in the 21st Century

For our modern-day Twelfth Night party, I am choosing a few documented seasonal historical activities and planning a menu of food and drink to give our guests a flavor of Christmases long past. I am fortunate enough to have a circle of friends who appreciate (or at least kindly humor) my passion for history and even tolerate my spontaneous outbursts of facts and trivia, so I can count on them being at least game to try these weird and wonderful snippets! Between you and me, though, I think they’ll find at least a few tastes, smells and experiences that are surprisingly familiar to us today.

Over the next week, I’ll share a series of posts about the planning and preparation, and then finish off with a post documenting the (hopefully) successful event! Are you doing something similar, or are there Tudor traditions that you incorporate into your holidays? I’d love to hear about them – let me know in the comments!

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Miles thought the inner section of the raised bed was just perfect for an afternoon snooze. Photo by R.A. Stockton

The solstice has come and gone, and we’re officially into summer. We’ve had a number of days with temps in the 90s already, and I must say the plants are enjoying this hot weather more than I am! Still, now that the garden has established itself a bit more, I’ve reflected back on the ups, downs and lessons learned from this first spring in the new house…from the comfort of the air-conditioned inside, of course.

Before our weather flipped nearly on a dime into this hot and dry summer, we slogged through a spring season that was late, wet and cold. Then we had a burst of lovely warmer weather in the early-middle part of May, which lulled many of us gardeners into a false sense of security that it was probably safe to start planting outside. I’m sure you see where I’m going with this, but sure enough, a late May cold snap did in some tender plants and weakened others. 

Minnesota weather, eh?  Uff da.

All in all, I was fairly fortunate, as my raised bed and containers were spared from the worst of the damaging high winds by the privacy fence surrounding the backyard and the bulk of the garage. Some of the herbs took a step back after that dip in temperatures, though, and I think it stunted the development of their root systems. I had to entirely replace a few basil plants and others I’ve had to support when they became top-heavy. After the last several weeks of consistently warm weather, most things do seem to be settling in and starting to flourish – knock on that wooden fence.

The previous owner’s chives came back this year! These at least I recognized right away. Photo by R.A. Stockton

First-Year Observations

As I mentioned in my last post, part of the excitement going into this season was that in so many ways, I really didn’t have a clue as to what I should expect: how dense would the tree coverage be? Would there be any established perennials? What is the soil quality like? I thought I’d share a few interesting things I’ve learned about the space thus far.

  1. The mature trees overhanging the house are a mixed blessing, even in ways i hadn’t anticipated.
  • On the up side: in addition to regulating the house’s inside temperature, they provide cool shade for early-morning herb harvests. Since the raised garden is on the western edge of the property and definitely in full sun during the afternoon, I appreciate that! 
  • The unexpected down side: obviously I knew their shade would limit how much and where I’d be able to grow, but I didn’t anticipate just how much the plants – even those distanced from the trees in full afternoon sun – would end up leaning towards the west. It’s made for some unbalanced plants and means that in places, despite my best efforts to plan the garden in a way that would give every plant enough space, there is some overlap that isn’t, well, ideal. 

2. I am very bad at identifying new plant growth by sight when I don’t know what was planted there. Epically bad. In my defense, this isn’t a skill I’ve spent much (read: any) time cultivating, but even I was surprised at just how clueless I was when a few perennials started showing up later this spring! Just one example, to illustrate my point yet salvage my pride. 

The front yard has a narrow flower bed alongside the fence on one side, and initially I assumed that it had been an annual bed when nothing even peeked through the surface by a week into May. So I purchased a mix of annuals and perennials to brighten up the space, at least for this year.

How surprised I was, then, when seemingly overnight the bed was filled with shoots of the same plant! I watched them for a few days, and I knew I recognized the leaf shape and patterns, but for the life of me I could not place them.

After a couple failed attempts with a plant identification app, I gave up and texted a snapshot to a horticulturally-talented friend. Her response was immediate: orange day lilies. OF COURSE! I knew I’d kick myself for not recognizing them, and sure enough, I did 🙂 . 

I won’t forget what day lilies look like anytime soon. Photo by R.A. Stockton

…In Which She Took the Lawn Service for Granted

Of course, alongside the cultivated plants, this is the first time in years that we’ve had a lawn that is our responsibility to maintain. One of the perks of the old townhome was that it had a huge corner lawn AND the homeowners association fees covered the lawn service! So while I couldn’t install my own garden beds, I always had a beautifully trimmed lawn and no weeds, and I never had to lift a finger. Talk about spoiled! 

Even with the maintenance work that comes along with it, I do appreciate having a lawn that’s actually ours. In fact, the trouble we’ve had so far is getting it to grow where we want it to, rather than keeping it from getting overgrown. From the listing photos, which were obviously taken in the fall, we knew there were patches in the backyard that would need some grass-growing TLC if we didn’t want the house continually slathered with muddy pawprints. 

To get through the summer season, we sowed the worst areas (like underneath the aforementioned shade trees) with a shade mix in May. To give the new grass a fighting chance, we fenced the areas with chicken wire to keep the dogs off. 

The results were…well, mixed. A good percentage of the grass sprouted, which was encouraging; it was certainly progress over last year, especially since we knew going into it that fall is the better time to plant new seed anyway. Unfortunately it wasn’t only grass that took hold quickly; quite a number of weeds and unidentified groundcover types took advantage of the fact that we were doing “no-mow May” to give the pollinators a leg up.

Part of me is a bit disappointed that we didn’t achieve a lush, beautiful lawn right away, but most of me – okay, probably the part of me that’s realized how much work it is to move, sell a house and get a new one in livable shape while holding down a full-time job – has accepted what we have for now. We certainly won’t have any lawn care companies knocking on our door asking to shoot a commercial, but what we’ve got meets our basic needs for the summer. So I’ve decided that if it’s green, generally holds the soil in place and keeps the majority of dirt off my dogs’ paws, I’m happy to let it grow there for this year. 

Elevation Matters

Finally, a word on weeds. Tenacious little buggers, aren’t they? 

The proclivity and resilience of the weeds everywhere – in containers, the raised bed, the rock beds – has been a bit of a surprise this year. Of course I expected them, but I’ve pulled more weeds out of my containers this year than any year previously, even though this year they do not sit directly under any trees as they did in the past. 

This is merely conjecture, but my initial guess is that it has a lot to do with the fact that this year they are sitting essentially on ground level, rather than on a second-story deck. In past years, I’ve pulled mostly tiny tree seedlings out of my herbs. This year, there have been a wider variety of “volunteers” crowding in, and I have a feeling that no-mow May, combined with a greater variety of creatures that can reach ground-level planters than could scale my deck, are contributing to the variety. 

Plucking stray greenery from the raised bed and containers isn’t a major hassle, but trying to prevent the rock gardens along the fences from becoming overrun is proving challenging. I pulled the first round by hand, but when they grew back so speedily I recognized that relying on elbow grease alone wasn’t going to cut it for the whole year. 

A corner of the rock garden that’s been oh-so-popular with weeds. Photo by R.A. Stockton

I confess that I did use a commercial weed killer on the rock beds farthest away from my garden, and the nice thing is that the regrowth has been minimal. I mixed up a homemade blend of white vinegar, salt and dish soap to treat the spots nearer to plants I do want to preserve or potentially consume, and it’s also been fairly effective at killing the weeds initially. It does take a lot more of the product to produce the same results, though, and while it’s still the more eco- and pocketbook-friendly option, I think I need to find a spray bottle with a kinder, gently trigger to save wear and tear on my digits! 

Are any of you also getting to know a new garden space this year? If so, I’d love to hear how it’s going! I’ll be back soon with, I hope, some successful early harvest stories! 

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Hello again, dear friends and readers! Contrary to what you may have (understandably!) surmised from my general social media absence and lack of blog posts for the last couple of months, I haven’t hopped on a ship departing the Grey Havens or boarded a Corellian freighter bound for the Outer Rim. Still, a bunch of ‘life’ has happened that’s demanded nearly all my time and attention, and I thank you for your patience.

Spring sunset gilds the leaves. Photo by R.A. Stockton

With that said, the exciting part of all this recent craziness is that (drumroll please)…I now actually have a yard! And a garden! That I can dig around in to my heart’s content! AMAZING!

That’s right; we bought a single-family home and are in the process of shifting our lives – and our all-too-numerous worldly belongings – a few miles north. Nothing drastic: still the same metro, same good ol’ Zone 4b, same late springs and early frosts; now just featuring greener commuting options.

Moving boxes = happy cats. Photo by R.A. Stockton

One of our main criteria for choosing a home, besides having a fenced yard for the dogs, was that it included the opportunity for a small garden. I wasn’t looking for anything extravagant or even for a large space. After all, one of the great things about herbs is that many of them don’t have to take up a great deal of room! 

It was a trying search in a miserable real estate market, but I truly feel that we landed where we’re supposed to be. This cozy Craftsman bungalow is challenging my creativity when it comes to storage space, but its character and charm win me over again every day. The backyard features a modest U-shaped raised bed and the option to expand in-ground garden space along the fences on both sides. 

I fully anticipate this first growing season to be one of experimentation as the space and I get to know each other, so I am limiting my harvest expectations. Still, even just the past few weeks have been a delight discovering the landscape and the resident plants whose home I’ve now joined. 

Gorgeous spring tulips – a lovely surprise to find blooming! Photo by R.A. Stockton

I look forward to sharing all kinds of updates with you; I’m sure I’ll be learning something every day, even if I do it the hard way. And rest assured: while I’ve been physically occupied with moving boxes (so…many…boxes…), my mind has kept itself occupied with numerous historical topics. So there will be more to come on the history side of Plants & Plantagenets as well – including an exciting announcement! Stay tuned!

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It’s late February in Minnesota, and as I write this, we’re getting another light snowfall that’s been slowly building up all afternoon. The average week’s temperatures are slowly moving away from the single digits (Fahrenheit), and the thoughts of even the most dour and curmudgeonly are starting to turn towards spring. 

I have to confess: I love winter. Really, I do. I’ve always been a cold-weather gal; I don’t care for the sweaty, humid days of midsummer, and I much prefer cozy, snowy days indoors and chilly outdoor excursions that end with hot chocolate and wood fires. Still, gardening has helped me appreciate and even look forward to the warmth and wonders of the growing season, which has added a beautiful and much-appreciated aspect to my yearly outlook!

So even as I savor and enjoy these fading days of winter, I’m indulging in daydreams of the summer’s gardens. Flipping through seed catalogs and dog-earing the pages with both old favorites and some new possibilities, I can nearly smell the fresh soil and see the tiny seedlings starting to break through the surface. That slow transition, emergence helps me adjust myself to the seasonal changes as well. 

Enough with the philosophical and on to the important part of this post: the new year’s plant lineup!

Planning for Plants

In some ways, planning for this season has been a bit more challenging than the past few have been, because it may be that I will have a bit more space to work with this year! (I won’t say too much now for fear of jinxing it, but be assured that I’ll share the details with you if/when they become more certain.) To stay on the safe and practical side, I’ve decided that I will proceed with planning as though I’ll have essentially the same space and planting options in 2022 as I’ve had before, and anything extra will be just a bonus that I can go crazy with later if it materializes. 

Inspiration, along with my seed box. Photo by R.A. Stockton.

With all that in mind, I started by identifying the varieties I’ve grown in past years that I’d like for sure to include in the new year’s garden. The ”challenge-slash-good-problem-to-have” with that approach is that as I grow as a gardener and have fewer attempted crop failures, I’m running short on available space to accommodate new types, but after last year’s relative success with seed-starting, I think I’ve got a better idea of how many seedlings I actually NEED for each plant. Knowing this means I can plan to have some extra space, rather than trying to use all the available soil to cram in the excess seedlings that I grew but didn’t truly need. 

From a historic and medicinal perspective, I’ll be leaning heavily again on calendula, borage, comfrey, plantain and lemon balm as my primary herbs. Rosemary and sage, my focus plants from last year, will pull double duty as both culinary and healing herbs, and lavender will round out the mix with the Phenomenal variety if I can find it. 

I intend to keep up a robust culinary garden in 2022, with the accompanying resolution that I will actually use more of the herbs I grow as fresh additions to dinners throughout the growing season. Some herbs I’ll dry and preserve for medicinal usage during the next cold season, but I want to intentionally enjoy more of those wonderful flavors when they’re at their peak!

Sorting through my stash. Photo by R.A. Stockton.

Retail Therapy, Garden-Style

I put in two seed orders this week. I added comfrey, longleaf plantain and comfrey seeds to my online baskets, as well as a different radish variety that I hope will flourish a bit better in the fickle early Minnesota spring conditions. Then, as those of you who also tend to let their imaginations run wild during these heady days of planning can appreciate, I managed to limit myself to replenishing seeds for my favorite crops and indulging in only two additional seed types! Skullcap and wood betony made the list this year for their nervine and analgesic properties, both of which are always welcome in my house. 

Okay…honestly, it was three new varieties if I include mullein, which I did grow a couple of years ago but wanted to try again with lessons learned from the last attempt. 

Well, four, but only if we also count the echinacea that I also attempted in the past with very limited success.  

Fine, it’s five with the “flashback mix” of calendula that I just couldn’t resist. These will be grown purely for their aesthetic contributions, though, not for their medicinal benefits; those purposes will be served by the radio and alpha varieties….

Sigh! I suppose I have to admit that maybe I didn’t do quite as well with limiting myself as I’d hoped, but I’m still optimistic that my plans are feasible! Armed with a better conceptualization of just how many seedlings I need (or don’t need!) for each plant to achieve the yield I’m aiming for, I’m hopeful that this year’s garden will be a strong and functional mix of the “old reliables” with some exciting new varieties to learn from. 

I’ll wrap this up for now and leave you all to your own dreams of the new gardening season. I will be back next month with more updates and hopefully some exciting seed starts! In the meantime, I’d love to hear about your garden plans in the comments! 

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Culinary herbs. Photo by R.A. Stockton.

It’s nearing the end of winter, and the new season’s seed catalogs are starting to pile up. I can’t wait to start plotting out my plans for the 2022 growing season, but this is always the time of year when I like to look back at last year’s efforts overall and take note of what worked and what didn’t. 

As I’ve mentioned previously, I had my best luck yet with starting seeds indoors. After some tweaking and definitely several lessons learned, I was pretty pleased with my setup and the results. In fact, I ended up with more viable seedlings than I truly needed, even after having to restart at least one tray due to my earlier mistakes. I’ll share more about my system when it gets time to assemble it again.

Spring seedlings 2021. Photo by R.A. Stockton.

I didn’t plan quite so well for a method to help the seedlings harden off, so in the end I let them spend a few days outside in a vinyl greenhouse but then threw them in their containers and wished them well. For the most part it worked okay, though perhaps some would have been sturdier plants if I’d truly taken the time and effort to take them in and out of the house each day. Noted for the next go-round! 

New Attractions

Each year, I like to try a few new varieties that I haven’t grown before. The mixed results I’ve gotten have helped me to view the gardening process as a learning experiment rather than defaulting to my habitual perfectionism, and while that is still an ongoing lesson (change is hard!), it does help me to enjoy the plants and not worry whether the time, money and energy expended was “worth” it. Finding worth in just the doing of it has been incredibly freeing! 

To talk specifics, I ended up with ten (!)  new varieties in 2021. I say “ended up with” because I had only made actual plans for five or six, but I definitely fell prey to impulse shopping during my annual plant sale excursion. (The Friends School Plant Sale is an amazing opportunity for anyone who’s within a reasonable distance of the Twin Cities, so if you aren’t already familiar with it, I highly recommend you check it out!) 

Shopping the Friends School Plant Sale, 7 May 2021. Photo by R.A. Stockton

The new-to-me plants I planned on adding to the garden last year had a fairly good success rate. I’ve already gone on at length about borage so I won’t rehash it all, but that was by far my favorite new friend. I’ve definitely added it to the permanent guest list. 

On an utter whim, I spotted a healthy, thriving catmint plant and added it to my cart. Heck, I thought, I’ve got cats; might as well get them something new to enjoy too! The catmint itself was a model container plant and I loved the purple spikey flowers through the summer. Anyone who knows cats will not be surprised, however, that as with so many things cat servants buy specifically for their feline masters, my kitties didn’t even give it a second look. At least it was pretty! 

I opted for miniature versions of veggies (cherry tomatoes and lunchbox bell peppers) and had better luck than with their full-sized cousins! Planting some basil and tomatoes together in the same large tub resulted in both performing better than in previous years. I never did quite identify the “sweet spot” for harvesting the mini peppers; perhaps I should have plucked them a bit earlier to encourage the plant to produce more, but I was very pleased with the taste. I would grow these again, but I’d like to learn more about them in the meantime so that I’m not hampering their growth. 

Cherry tomatoes, co-planted with basil, grew very well! Photo by R.A. Stockton

On the culinary side of things, I expanded to three types of thyme! Technically I had only intended to try two, French and English, to experiment with whether I could tell the difference and which I preferred. In the car on my way to the plant sale, though I listened to a plant-related podcast whose guest was enthusiastically singing the praises of lemon thyme and its versatility, so I thought, why not? 

Lemon thyme going strong in July. Don’t worry, I pruned it back right after this pic! Photo by R.A. Stockton.

All three grew well throughout the summer, but I must admit, dear reader, that I did not make enough of an intentional effort to compare the flavors of the European varieties to now be able to express a considered opinion. My suspicion is, given that my attempts at creativity in the kitchen are usually middling at best, either would suit nearly any need just fine. The lemon, however, added a lovely splash of brightness when I used it to fill out the greens in a batch of pesto!

Throwing shade…out the window

This is the juncture at which we switch to the experiments that didn’t go so well. I purchased seedlings of lady’s mantle, fuchsia and wild geraniums that were supposed to thrive in the shade. My growing area has become more and more shaded over the years as my yard’s tree cover increased, so I was excited to finally utilize that area with shade-loving plants! 

Sadly, as you’ve no doubt already guessed, none of them did well for more than a few weeks. The fault lies partly with me, as I wasn’t as attentive as I should have been in the early days while they were getting established, and the suburban wildlife enjoyed the lovely buffet I’d just created for them. Beyond that, I have a sneaking suspicion that their new home was too shady even for shade plants. Rest in peace, friends, and thank you for the lessons learned. 

My poor, ill-fated shade plants just after planting. Photo by R.A. Stockton

Returning crowd favorites

Turning from the utter failure of the shade garden, I had more success with the well-loved herbs I’d grown before. I still had seeds left over that I’d purchased for 2020, so despite mixed opinions from various garden experts about the extended viability of seeds over a year old, I started comfrey, plantain and yarrow under the grow lights. 

Plantain on 4 July 2021. Often treated as a weed, I cultivate it intentionally for its skin-healing properties. Photo by R.A. Stockton.

The comfrey and plantain came through strong, with plentiful leaves all summer that yielded more than enough for the herbal preparations I intended to make. I added the yarrow seedlings to the planters where a few volunteers were already springing up from the previous year, and they provided full foliage throughout the season. There was a marked decrease in flowering, though, on both the volunteers and the new additions. Fortunately, I still had enough yarrow tincture from 2020 to last through the winter. 

Flowering yarrow, 4 July 2021. Photo by R.A. Stockton

Focus plants

One thing I’ve learned about myself over three years of container herb gardening is that while I love having a wide variety of plants to observe, I can also easily get distracted and neglect the specific care needs of the less-hardy plants. To get better at this, I decided early in the year that I would choose a couple of “focus” plants, and I’d make a concerted effort to learn more about their care and create a better growing environment for them. I chose two of my favorite aromatic herbs: sage and rosemary. 

I’d read that rosemary can be tricky to start from seed, so I purchased a plant from the Friends Sale to give it a fighting chance. I grew my sage from seed, though I did have to restart them after a couple of weeks, as I learned valuable lessons about the delicate balance of light, heat and water the hard way. Fortunately, I had seven good seedlings ready when it came time to plant outdoors, so I was easily able to fill the allotted space. 

Rosemary waiting to be planted, 19 May 2021. Photo by R.A. Stockton

I knew rosemary prefers its soil to dry between waterings, while sage likes to keep its feet a bit damp. I’d gotten pretty good at that part during the previous season, but I was a bit daunted by how – and how often – to best prune each plant, so I did my research there. 

Lessons learned, skills grown

In the past, I’d felt intimidated by selecting the proper place and amount to harvest, but I went back to that learning mentality and decided to try my best and adjust as needed. I’d begun to build some confidence when pruning lavender and calendula, so I grabbed those shears and gave it a go. It seemed to work well, as I noticed both herbs quickly growing back fuller, so I continued to practice throughout the season. I had plenty for cooking meals throughout the summer, and I dried a good amount of both herbs for use over the winter months as well. 

Sage, 15 thriving on July 2021. Photo by R.A. Stockton.

Believe me, I realize that these little lessons are rudimentary and very basic to the practice of gardening, but they aren’t truly the point. What matters much more is the greater sense of comfort I’ve built in doing the best I can with new things, then being content with whatever happens. For a person whose tendency is to avoid new situations out of a fear of failure, this exercise has been very educational indeed! 

Next time….

The weeks are flying by, and it’s nearly time to make the yearly seed orders! What will make the list this year? Decisions, decisions! 

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Decorated plough, Whittlesey Straw Bear Festival procession. Photo credit: Simon Garbutt

Early January: a time that, for lots of folks, can be a bit of a letdown. The holidays are over: the parties are done, gifts exchanged, and let’s be honest, most of us are even getting just the slightest bit tired of Christmas cookies. And all that’s before we even think about facing the return to work! 

No matter how much or how little time one may have had off around the holidays, it’s always something of a letdown to settle back into the everyday grind. For members of some English communities, however, some historical traditions have persisted to the modern day that incorporate a bit of fun into the inevitable. 

First things first: some readers may be wondering why, nearly a third of the way through January, I’m talking about finally resuming work after the holidays. Fair enough; most Americans and many around the world have returned to their day jobs a week ago after New Year’s, and those are the lucky ones who could luxuriate in a week off between December 25 and January 1. But there’s an important bit of cultural history to keep in mind. 

Christmas in the Middle Ages and beyond

Remember that song about the Twelve Days of Christmas? The author didn’t just dream those up. Since medieval times and beyond, the celebration of Christmas began not after Thanksgiving (or even earlier), but with Christmas Day itself, and continued on for the next twelve days until Epiphany, or January 6, marked the arrival of the Magi. 

Advent in those days wasn’t a time of joyful parties and festive lead-up that ends rather abruptly on the 25th with a massive dinner and loads of cleanup. Instead it was a period of somber reflection and self-denial, intended to prepare oneself to appreciate the miracle of Christmas and be thankful for one’s blessings. Once Christmas Eve arrived, it was time to decorate the dwelling and suspend all work, save the most basic tasks to keep people and animals warm and fed, until Twelfth Night was celebrated on January 6. 

Twelfth Night gathering in Harrison Ainsworth’s Mervyn Clitheroe (1858)

Back to the grindstone

As the saying goes, all things must come to an end, including midwinter celebrations. The traditional agricultural year, which had paused ever so briefly over the twelve days of Christmas, was set to start over again on the first Monday after Ephiphany. 

That first Monday following January 6th – that’s today, January 10 in 2022 – was called Plough Monday, and it marked the beginning of the new year’s planting season. The practice is recorded back to the 15th century, and while Plough Monday was generally practiced in the northern and eastern parts of England, in some places it is still celebrated today.

How – and why – does one celebrate a plough?

When the custom began, ploughs were extremely expensive and most farmers were not wealthy enough to have their own. Villages generally owned one plough, which was stored in the church and loaned out to the parish’s farmers to turn over their fields. It’s easy to imagine how precious that single piece of farming equipment would have been to those communities, and why its security and upkeep were of vital importance to all. 

Often, the communal plough would have been blessed in church during Sunday services the day before, and then on Plough Monday it was paraded around the village. Those accompanying the plough collected donations from houses they passed, which would go towards the upkeep of the church and the “plough lights,” or candles that were kept burning to bless the field workers throughout the season. 

Even after the Reformation did away with “superstitious” practices like lighting candles for blessings, Plough Monday tradition evolved and continued. Before the Industrial Revolution brought advances in farming mechanization, villages still relied on teams of ploughboys to guide the horses or oxen pulling the plough. These farmhands took on the role of collecting money from villagers on Plough Monday, only that now those donations went to feed and keep the ploughboys themselves. As they made the rounds with their plough, the ploughboys would often act out a play to encourage the generosity of their neighbors. 

Plough Monday, from George Walker’s The Costumes of Yorkshire, 1814. Public domain.

Technology ruins the “fun”

By the late 1800s, agricultural technology had advanced to the point where ploughs or tractors were affordable enough for most individual farmers to purchase, and there was no longer a need to hire on roaming teams of fieldhands each spring to ensure the ploughing was done on time. The annual ploughing became less and less a community endeavor, and the practical necessities of the Plough Monday festivities faded away. 

Still, some communities maintain the seasonal revelries, if in a somewhat modernized form. In Whittlesey, for example, the celebrations include a Straw Bear that parades through the town. 

Takeaway: when needed, create your own joy

What can we take from these centuries-old customs to enhance our modern lives today? To some extent, everything we do amounts to what we make of it; if we are determined to turn the ordinary into the spectacular (or at least the somewhat amusing), we can create reasons to celebrate just about anything. Perhaps there’s a new folk tradition – one to beat the blahs of a winter workday – just waiting to be created. 

Sources and Further Reading

https://merl.reading.ac.uk/news-and-views/2016/01/plough-monday/

https://www.tudorsociety.com/plough-monday/

http://www.mastermummers.org/atlas/PloughMonday.php

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plough_Monday

Hutton, Ronald. Interview with Charles Rowe. The English Heritage Podcast. Podcast audio. December 21, 2021. https://m.soundcloud.com/englishheritage/episode-145-celebrating-englands-post-christmas-winter-traditions

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A New Year’s Eve toast, Minnesota-style. Photo credit R. A. Stockton

Happy New Year, friends! I hope you had a joyous and restful holiday season, and may this new year bring peace and good fortune for you and your loved ones. 

For many folks, January is a time of contemplation and revitalization; some looking back, but even more looking forward. The same is true here at Plants and Plantagenets! I thought I’d take a moment to share with you what’s in store for the blog as we move into the new year.

In 2022, we’ll be looking at a different theme each month. During the month, we’ll spend some time in the realm of relevant history, and I’ll also bring you a real-time glimpse into the current stage of my own historical herb garden. As you know, I just love it when my two passions, history and herbs, overlap, so as often as possible I’ll be looking for ways to bring you content that combines those two together!

In January, I’ll be bringing you posts on the motif of reflection and renewal. We’ll explore how people in English agricultural communities started their new year of work, and I’ll share how, as an experimental gardener, I am considering the results of last year’s herb-growing efforts and making plans for the growing season ahead. 

Topics for later months are still being firmed up, so if there’s something you’d like to read more about, please share your ideas in the comments below! 

Of course, I’ll continue to bring you regular On This Day bite-sized history bits, so make sure you’re following along on Twitter for a daily digestible dose of the past. 

Until then, I hope this winter season brings you beauty, coziness and calm!

Winter candles. Photo credit R.A. Stockton
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