#Duke of Clarence

[funstealer]

Alfred Gilbert's "St. Michael", a version of a figure from the tomb of the Duke of Clarence, Windsor.

[ykzzr]

14 January 1892

Today is the 132nd anniversary of the death of dear Prince Albert Victor, second on the British throne after his father, Prince Edward of Wales (later King Edward VII).

the Prince fell ill with influenza during the 1889-1892 pandemic. As time passed, his symptoms worsened and eventually developed into pneumonia. Prince Albert Victor died at Sandringham House on 14th January 1892, less than a week after his 28th birthday. He was surrounded by his parents; his brother, George; his sisters, Maud and Victoria; and three physicians and three nurses.

Dear Eddie on his deathbed

The nation was shocked by his sudden death and fell into a state of mourning. The Prince of Wales wrote to his mother, the Queen, exclaiming how “gladly would I have given my life for his”. George was equally as devastated and wrote “how deeply I did love him”. Alexandra never recovered from her son’s death and continued to keep his room as a shrine.

After his death, the distraught Prince of Wales wrote to Queen Victoria:

“Little did I think I should ever have to write to you on so melancholy a subject, or that our beloved Eddy would have gone before me; but it has been willed otherwise. What we went through for 8 hours watching poor dear Eddy from 2 to 10 this morning, I shall never forget. Poor Boy, he battled so strongly against death… The 3 Doctors & 3 Nurses showed the utmost skill & endurance. The poison of that horrid Influenza had got into the dear Boy’s brain & lungs, & baffled all science… We always say God’s will be done, & it is right to say & think so, but it does seem hard to rob us of our eldest son, on the eve of his marriage. Gladly would I have given my life for his, as I put no value on mine.”

[travelling-my-little-pony]

October is a month when Blossomforth goes to look at ghost signs!

Ghost signs (or ghost adverts) are old signs, often hand painted, on buildings. The products they are advertising often don’t exist any more.

This ghost sign for the former Duke of Clarence pub (turned into the Bloated Mallard) is in Hampton Hill, in Surrey, England.

(And since I took these photo it has been turned back into the Duke of Clarence!)

[shakespearenews]

Drowning was a form of execution used in Scotland until the 18th century, and some cultures were concerned about shedding royal blood. Edward may have opted for this method to prevent spilling blood, or George might have chosen it as a recognised method, with the selection of malmsey mocking Edward’s reputation for heavy drinking.

A portrait believed to be of Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, George’s daughter, intriguingly shows the lady wearing a barrel charm on a bracelet. Was this in remembrance of her father?

[a-rare-jewell]

Modern day Fancast for Henry V

Part 1 ( other parts in reblogs)

[sephicircle]

Inverted: Chapter One

A fictional story based on bridgerton

Dearest gentle reader,

As the season unfurls its petals with the promise of new alliances and courtships, it is with a flourish of my quill that I, Lady Whistledown, bring to light the latest commotion stirring the hearts and ambitions of our illustrious ton. The arrival of the Duke of Clarence, with the avowed intent of seeking a bride, has set the wheels of rumor and matchmaking into a frenetic whirlwind.

The Duke, a gentleman of considerable charm and position, has not only captured the imaginations of our city's young ladies but has also sent their matriarchs into a flurry of strategizing and scheming. The air is thick with anticipation, and the salons and ballrooms of London buzz with whispers of potential matches. Yet, it is not solely the Duke's eligible status that has the ton in a tizzy, but also whispers of a most magnificent gemstone necklace in his possession—a bauble so exquisite, it is rumored to rival even the resplendence of the royal jewels themselves.

This tantalizing tidbit has added fuel to the matrimonial fire, with every mama of marriageable daughters dreaming of seeing such a necklace grace the décolletage of her offspring. The fervor has reached such heights that the modistes of our city find themselves besieged by a veritable army of matriarchs, each more desperate than the last to commission gowns that will render their daughters irresistible to the Duke's discerning eye. It is a scene of such comic desperation that one cannot help but be amused at the lengths to which these ambitious matriarchs will go to secure a match.

In this grand game of matrimonial chess, where mothers maneuver and daughters dazzle, the Duke of Clarence remains the most coveted prize. Yet, as every seasoned player knows, the outcome of the game is as unpredictable as the English weather. Will the Duke find his bride among the bevy of beauties vying for his attention, or will the allure of the gemstone necklace prove to be the most decisive matchmaker of all?

As the season unfolds, rest assured, dear readers, that I shall keep a vigilant eye on developments, ready to share the latest gossip and intrigue. For in the world of high society, where fortunes can be made or lost with a single dance, the next twist in the tale is but a heartbeat away.

Lady Whistledown

In the quiet hours of the morning, when the world outside the Hawthorne estate was still cloaked in the soft embrace of dawn, the young Miss Amelia Hawthorne found herself ensconced in the comforting confines of her bedchamber, a frown marring her usually serene features. Her faithful lady in waiting, Grace, moved about the room with the silence and efficiency that had always characterized her service, but even her gentle presence could not soothe the tempest brewing within Amelia.

"Mama insists I must look 'just so' for the Duke of Clarence," Amelia lamented, her voice a blend of frustration and resignation as she sat upright in her bed, the luxurious quilts pooling around her waist. “As if the right gown or the perfect hairstyle could sway the heart of a duke!"

Grace, placing a carefully selected array of dresses upon the chaise for Amelia’s inspection, offered a sympathetic smile. "It's not just the gown or the hair, Miss Amelia. It's the grace with which you wear them, and nobody can rival your grace when you set your mind to it."

Amelia sighed, her gaze drifting to the window where the first light of day began to erase the shadows of the night. "And now, with Lady Whistledown's latest issue, the entire ton will descend upon our home, each lady dressed in her very best, all vying for the Duke's attention. It is absurd! I must compete in my own house for the affections of a man I do not even want."

Grace continued her tasks, her movements graceful and measured. "Miss Amelia, if I may be so bold, it's not a competition if your heart is not in it to win it. Perhaps this is an opportunity to show not just the Duke, but everyone, that you are more than just a beautiful face to be admired. You have wit, intelligence, and kindness—qualities that far outshine any jewel or gown."

Amelia’s frown deepened, the corners of her mouth turning down in thought. "But what of my parents' expectations? They so dearly want this match, or any advantageous match, really. It feels as though I'm trapped in a play where I know not my lines nor the plot."

Grace approached Amelia, her expression earnest. "Your parents want your happiness above all, Miss Amelia. Perhaps it's time to have a frank conversation with them about what truly makes you happy. Besides, who's to say the Duke won't see and appreciate the real you, beyond the silk and satin?"

Amelia chuckled, a brief respite from her worries. "Imagine that, Grace. A Duke who looks beyond the surface. Lady Whistledown would have a field day writing about such a novelty."

The moment of levity between Amelia and Grace was abruptly interrupted as the door to the bedchamber flew open with a burst of youthful energy. In tumbled Amelia’s younger sisters, Lily and Rose, their faces alight with excitement and curiosity, a stark contrast to the contemplative mood that had enveloped the room moments before.

“Mama was trying to stop us, but we simply had to know!” Lily exclaimed, her eyes wide with the thrill of the forbidden interruption.

Rose, barely catching her breath from the excitement, chimed in, “Is it true, Amelia? Will you really be marrying the Duke of Clarence? Will we truly be sisters to a duchess?”

Their bombardment of questions was closely followed by the appearance of their mother at the doorway, her expression a mix of exasperation and apology. “Girls, I told you to wait. Amelia needs her rest before tonight’s ball,” she scolded gently, yet her eyes held a softness that spoke of her understanding of their excitement.

Turning to Amelia, she offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, my dear. They’ve been quite beside themselves since hearing the news of the Duke’s attendance tonight. You know how children can be, always dreaming of fairy tales and grandeur.”

Amelia, despite the earlier tension and her own reservations, couldn’t help but laugh at the infectious enthusiasm of her sisters. Their innocence and excitement momentarily lifted the weight from her shoulders, reminding her of the joy and wonder she herself had felt at their age.

“Lily, Rose,” Amelia began, her voice laced with affection and a hint of playful reprimand, “there’s no talk of marriage yet. Tonight is simply a ball, a chance for us all to enjoy the company of friends and perhaps make some new ones. And as for becoming sisters to a duchess, well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

The young girls giggled, their imaginations already running wild with the possibilities that the evening could bring. Their mother, taking advantage of their brief distraction, ushered them towards the door, promising more details later if they behaved and allowed Delilah to prepare in peace.

As the room quieted once more, Amelia turned to Grace, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thank you, Grace. For everything. No matter what tonight brings, I’m glad to have you and my family by my side.”

Grace returned the smile, her eyes warm with affection. “Always, Miss Amelia. Now, let’s make sure you’re ready to dazzle them all, not for the Duke or for Lady Whistledown, but for yourself.”

[intriguingpeoplebyangelafloyd]

GEORGE DUKE OF CLARENCE

GEORGE PLANTAGENET, DUKE OF CLARENCE

1449-1478

Brother of King Edward IV and Richard III, War of the Roses, was drowned in wine

George of Clarence was the son of Richard of York and Cecily Neville and was a claimant to the English throne. His brother Edward IV reigned from 1460-1483, and George was heir to the throne.

During Edward IV’s reign, George was jealous, impatient, and power-hungry. The Earl of Warwick ‘Warwick the Kingmaker’ influenced George in 1468 to rebel against Edward IV and told him he wanted him on the throne instead. George was married to Warwick’s daughter Isabel. However, Warwick actually wanted to replace Edward IV with the previous king, Henry VI. Henry VI’s son Edward the ‘Prince of Wales’ was married to Warwick’s daughter, Anne.

Warwick’s plan was successful, but not for long. In, 1471, Edward IV went into battle to gain his throne back, knowing he was losing the battle, George quickly deflected back to his brother’s side after he fell out with Warwick. During the battle, Prince Edward died and Warwick was defeated and killed, Henry VI was murdered in mysterious circumstances.

George had been in a continual rivalry with his younger brother Richard and tensions arose when Edward IV awarded Richard for remaining loyal to him. Richard wanted to marry Anne Neville, Warwick’s daughter who was incredibly wealthy. George attempted to prevent this by hiding her in his kitchen and dressing her up as a kitchen maid. Richard discovered her and married her.

In 1476, George’s wife Isabel died after giving birth to their son and George unfairly accused one of her servants of poisoning her. After a trial; the servant was found guilty and hanged after George had compelled the hasty judgment.

George continued to scheme against his brother and spread rumors that Edward IV was a bastard and had no claim to the throne. George who was behaving irrationally was arrested, imprisoned in the Tower of London, and charged with high treason.

George denied the charges; however he was executed on 18 February 1478 by drowning in a barrel of wine; at his own request, as he loved to drink.

Edward IV died of an illness in 1483, and the throne went to his heir and son Edward V, Richard III snatched the throne from him and Edward V and his younger brother disappeared (most likely murdered). Richard III lost his throne during battle and King Henry VII became the first Tudor monarch.

#georgeofclarence#georgeplantagenetdukeofclarence#dukeofclarence#georgedukeofclarence

[earlgodwin]

David Oakes as George Plantagenet and Aneurin Barnard as Richard III THE WHITE QUEEN (2013)

[threesonsofyorks]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎☀︎☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ url edit: @threesonsofyorks (I'm back with my bullshit)

RICHARD: Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun; ... EDWARD: 'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of. I think it cites us, brother, to the field, That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet, Each one already blazing by our meeds, Should notwithstanding join our lights together And over-shine the earth as this the world. Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear 665 Upon my target three fair-shining suns.

[awesometothe3rd]

[angelsleeps]

OVERSIZED COATS

S4 - BTS

[funstealer]

Alfred Gilbert's "St. Elizabeth of Hungary". a version of a figure from the tomb of the Duke of Clarence, Windsor.

[mewmckenna]

haha another one whoops

[servants-hall]

PBS: "Dig in to these delicious moments from our winter dramas. 😋"

[willwriteforruns]

THE WHITE QUEEN 10-Year Anniversary Week -> Favorite Villain: George Duke of Clarence

[lasthumaninwales]

Combining things my wife and I are really into at the moment, I'm just imagining Alison and Mike taking a trip to London, and Alison making friends with all the Tower of London ghosts.

Anne Boleyn: So it truly does not bother you? The... head thing?

Alison: No, I have, uh, a friend with a similar condition...

Lot of people with their heads tucked under their arms, and George, Duke of Clarence, sulking and dripping wine all over the place...