Lara's Library: A Song of Sixpence

A Song of Sixpence: The Story of Elizabeth of York and Perkin Warbeck

by Judith Arnopp

Review by Lara

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In the years after Bosworth, a small boy is ripped from his rightful place as future king of England. Years later when he reappears to take back his throne, his sister Elizabeth, now queen to the invading king, Henry Tudor, is torn between family loyalty and duty. Besieged by conflicting loyalties, Elizabeth experiences fear, oppression and unexpected love as the final struggle between the houses of York and Lancaster is played out.


Set against the court of Henry VII, A Song of Sixpence is a unique perspective on the early years of Tudor rule. Elizabeth, often viewed as meek and uninteresting, emerges as a resilient woman, proving that as much strength lies in endurance as in resilience.

Throughout history there are stories and legends that entice our imaginations. The tale of the two princes in the Tower is one of those. Another is the account of Perkin Warbeck. Even if you do not know the true facts or complete history of this time, nor the story of Perkin Warbeck, pretender to the English throne, A Song of Sixpence is an extraordinary book that will entice you to read further and set you on a road of discovery. 

This book is a wonderful journey through a most precarious and perilous chapter in the very beginnings of Tudor history. The format and characters, along with the storyline, are the result and testament of  penmanship and of great story-telling. I felt I was right there, in the presence and minds of the characters and time, more than just a voyeur looking in. In A Song of Sixpence the author does not attempt to prove that Warbeck is Richard, Duke of York, but has created a narrative based on a probability that he was.

The story begins with a chapter titled ‘The Boy’ in the autumn of 1483, London. It does not take too long for the reader to grasp what is happening, and to whom:

The Princes in the Tower

With a muffled curse, the man throws back his head but, keeping hold of his prisoner, he hurries onward down narrow, dark steps, turning one corner then another before halting abruptly. The boy hears his assailant’s breath coming short and sharp and knows he too is afraid.

The boy is Richard. His introduction begins as a prisoner in the Tower of London, taken in the night by a stranger, and then later treated as a slave: "'I hate being your servant,' he spits but he keeps his voice lowered… He owes his life to the man. His captor assures him that he is '...no one, nothing…until I say you are.'"


The author’s treatment of Richard is convincing. It makes me wonder, if he had succeeded in taking the throne, the Tudors would have ceased to exist and the lives of Elizabeth’s children would have come under threat, perhaps suffering the same fate as he. Through years of training and grooming in exile, he returns to claim his throne. One can only wonder, if this was Richard, how the trauma of his childhood, with all its losses, could ever make this broken boy into a king one day. Does he have his father’s qualities to be king? He has not yet been tested on the battlefield. Richard even doubts himself at times as the narrator suggests, when his chance to seize the throne arrives: "He had imagined that when the time came he would be brave, invincible, but now the moment is here, his overriding emotion is one of fear" and “I don’t even know how to be a king.” 

Richard is an endearing but sad figure who was accepted and celebrated in the houses and great courts throughout Europe, only to be ridiculed and humiliated before his demise at the hands of Henry Tudor. Richard at one stage laments about his role and wonders if his quest is worth the price. 

As a silent backdrop, the memories of Richard III and Elizabeth’s father, Edward IV, are interwoven between these two main characters, and adds to the validity of Warbeck’s assertion that he is the rightful king. Within the book's narrative Richard III, despite all he did to secure his own claim to the throne, is not portrayed as a monster, as most historical novels do. Although it was Richard who took the princes into the Tower, there is great disbelief in the characters that it was Richard who had killed or disposed of them. (The question of who killed the princes, if indeed they were murdered, remains one of history’s greatest mysteries.)                 

Henry VII & Elizabeth of York

The author presents Henry VII as a man whose claim to the throne was precarious. Arnopp’s Henry is wary of the successive pretenders to his reign, as he spends much time and effort in tracing the identity of each of these pretenders, especially Perkin Warbeck. This puts a considerable strain on the marriage of Elizabeth and Henry. The first Tudor king, Henry knows there are those who have a much better claim to the throne than he did.

Elizabeth had a greater claim to the throne than Henry Tudor. She knew her place, and her time as queen would come one day, even as the Battle of Bosworth was to decide the victor. "It is I, the eldest of my father’s daughters, who will be served like a pig on a platter to the triumphant king.” 

Henry Tudor eventually crowns Elizabeth Queen of England fourteen months after the birth of their first son, Arthur. Elizabeth has finally achieved her ambition to become queen. Elizabeth is often portrayed in history as a woman of no great strengths, other than her devotion to her family, and her inner relationships with her sisters and mother. Added to this, she has been contemporarily recorded as being “kept in subjection by the mother of the king” and by the king himself. Although Elizabeth is restrained in her role as queen, especially with Henry, it is only for fear for her children: "I watch him quietly. There is no point in interfering. He will not listen. He will go his own way, and if that entails the destruction of my entire family, it will not deter him."

As the tale unfolds Elizabeth is torn between her conscience and duty. She thinks to herself: "How can I trust him? How can I ever have faith in him when his duplicity is so transparent? I have an overwhelming urge to run away, but queens do not run away, and besides, there is nowhere for me to run."  Her courage shines through in her decisions to support her husband and king, and to protect her children from what she herself admits, that "her family had suffered." Elizabeth however, maintains hopes of romance with the harsh man she married: "Henry and I may have our differences but we share a deep love and joy for our children." I believe, as Arnopp states in her afterward, that "Elizabeth deserves more credit. There is as much strength in resilience as in resistance."

The relevancy, which Elizabeth faced in the Tudor times to today, in respect to being "bound to duty" and how a woman’s strength is measured, has not changed that much, even for a mere mortal woman like me. I loved Arnopp’s portrayal of Elizabeth, and although it seemed she was not a strong woman, I felt that she was. Elizabeth left a legacy: she had fulfilled her duty by filling the royal Tudor nursery with children, combining the houses of Lancaster and York, and as a result, creating the Tudor dynasty. I cried when she died in the end, even though I knew it was to be. Elizabeth of York will always be a heroine in my eyes.

Perkin Warbeck greeted by loyal subjects of 
Edward IV

Written with passion and empathy, Arnopp’s insight and extensive and faultless research shines throughout A Song of Sixpence. Arnopp has brilliantly mastered combining the story of Elizabeth of York, the eldest daughter of King Edward IV and Elizabeth Wydville, with the story of Perkin Warbeck, the most famous pretender to the throne. She cleverly uses alternating chapters between the points of view of Elizabeth and Richard (or ‘The Boy’ as the chapters are titled).  I enjoyed this refreshing format and Arnopp’s writing style. Using this layout, the author brings a voice and insight to the characters.

This is not just a novel of interpretation, but one of substance, with all that is known of Elizabeth and her new husband Henry Tudor, to the possibility of Perkin Warbeck being one of the princes taken from the Tower. A genuine page turner, A Song of Sixpence is brilliant in drawing the reader into the delicious historical detail and story, and as the author breathes life to the characters with her use of words, which are like vibrant colours on a canvas, she enables the reader to visualize the characters and ambience clearly. With empathic portrayals,  the reader experiences the intimate feelings of the characters, from their fears to their innermost thoughts and desires.

A Song of Sixpence is a stand-alone book in itself. One does not have to be an avid Tudor fan, historian, or enthusiast to enjoy this outstanding novel, which I would highly recommend to  readers of all ages and inclinations. I look forward to reading more of Arnopp’s novels and, having had the opportunity to review this masterly tome, Judith Arnopp is now on my list of favourite authors. I loved the book!

For your chance to win a FREE PAPERBACK COPY of A Song of Sixpence, simply comment below OR at this review's Facebook thread, located here. 

About the Author:

Judith Arnopp is the author of seven historical novels. The first three are set early in the historical calendar in Anglo-Saxon and Norman Britain; the latter books take place in Tudor England. She is currently working on a trilogy, The Beaufort Chronicles, which tells the story of Margaret Beaufort, mother of King Henry VII. Arnopp's books include:

Peaceweaver: Set during the run up to the Battle of Hastings

The Forest Dwellers: Set after the Battle of Hastings

The Song of Heledd: set in 7^th century Powys

The Winchester  Goose: At the Court of Henry VIII

The Kiss of the Concubine: A Story of Anne Boleyn

Intractable Heart: The Story of Katheryn Parr

A Song of Sixpence: The Story of Elizabeth of York and Perkin Warbeck

You can find out more about Judith and her work on her webpage or blog. Her books are available at Amazon.

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Lara is a new addition to The Review and currently working on a family memoir set in Ukraine and Australia. She enjoys gardening and reading Tudor history in her spare time, and lives with two crazy cats.

Linda Reviews: Kiss of the Concubine by Judith Arnopp

Kiss of the Concubine
by Judith Arnopp, a review by Linda Root

My acquaintance with Anne Boleyn has developed over sixty years, from the time I was a romantic teenager enthralled by the movie Young Bess. I was sufficiently captivated by Elizabeth Tudor to want to know more about her disgraced mother, and over a lifetime of voracious reading, I have devoured a small library’s worth of  histories seeking the real Anne Boleyn.

This has been a landmark year for Anne and me, what with Susan Bordo’s excellent award winning analysis, The Creation of Anne Boleyn, and one would think that my personal Anne would have been put to rest. Thus, when I volunteered  to review Kiss of the Concubine, I wondered why I was so anxious to explore another fictionalized account of Queen Anne when I already knew her intimately. Thus I made a vow to approach Judith Arnopp’s book as if Henry Tudor’s second wife was a total stranger and I was a fledgling Tudorphile. Reading The Kiss of the Concubine  from that perspective, I am delighted to report that there is a new historical novel about Henry VIII’s most sensationalized queen worthy of a spot on the reading list of anyone who appreciates meticulously researched and artfully crafted historical novels, whether new to the queen’s story or anxious to revisit it from a different point of view—her own.

The relationship between Anne and Henry, as Judith Arnopp paints it, is intriguing and complex.  It is not ‘love at first sight’ that grows less arresting with the passage of time. Like fine tea, it took some time to brew. Judith’s Anne is not a beautiful woman, but she is a bright one and every bit as capable of manipulation as Henry.

The Anne in the paintings is not a beauty, but she is sufficiently captivating to warrant a second look. High-born men like Henry Percy and romantics like the poet Tom Wyatt had one thing in common—they were willing to take substantial risks to gain the lady’s favor. The king knew who she was, but he did not immediately recruit her for a bed-partner as he had her sister Mary. It was after several confrontations between the two of them that he noticed qualities more compelling than her looks— her confidence and wit. Those were the attributes that allowed this less-than-beautiful commoner to hold off Henry’s advances for seven years during which the king put aside his queen, his relationship with God and the Roman Church, and the status quo of the ranking nobility. In Judith’s book Anne plays him very well. Never naïve, she recognizes the risks, and on occasion looks wistfully back upon the days when Henry Percy and Tom Wyatt were leaping over hedge rows and falling at her feet for the pleasure of her company.

Ms. Arnopp places Anne in an accurate historical setting which exposes much of the character who has been maligned by historical novelists and historians in the past. She is a woman of an age when women were not supposed to adopt politically controversial causes or to influence events by employing means more direct than the lifting of the hem of a kirtle. Anne is indeed a seductress, but she is not subtle, and that makes  enemies of men like Woolsey, and later, Cromwell. All of those characters are significant in Anne’s story. Of the supporting characters, the one who plays a major role is Anne’s brother George, but he is not alone. His wife Jane, Lady Rochford, is one of the significant women in the story, and while she is no less jealous of her sister-in-law than in other accounts, she is viewed more sympathetcally, not just by Judith Arnopp, but by Ms. Arnopp’s Anne.  When Henry is encouraged to believe the worst about the queen, George’s behavior toward his sister gives credibility to the whispers of her enemies, both male and female. In Kiss, Anne and George truly love one another, but not carnally. There are hints in Arnopp’s novel that George would have overlooked the taboo, but not Anne. And in Kiss, as Anne becomes reconciled to the inevitability of her execution, it is not Henry whose support and advice she craves. It is George's.

As the author conveys in her end notes, she does not try to solve the mystery of just what occurred to turn Henry away from Anne so quickly. She acknowledges that there has to have been more than Anne’s inability to provide Henry with a son to precipitate so violent a change.  In The Kiss of the Concubine, Anne herself remains perplexed. Many historical novelists would have been tempted to answer that question with the same caprice as a parade of traditional historians have done,  either blaming it on infidelities of the queen or by laying it all at Henry’s feet and attributing it to his lust for the more obiesant Jane Seymour and an overdose of midlife crisis. By telling the story in the first person, the author sidesteps that temptation neatly. The reader can only know what Anne knows.
By choosing her subject well, Ms. Arnopp avoids some of the problems other fine writers have encountered in creating a historical novel through the eyes of protagonists who played major historical roles but did not come across as especially interesting in print. Arnopp’s Anne, like Hilary Mantel’s Cromwell of Wolf Hall, is intriguing enough to carry it off. 

It is interesting that in the fantasy scene that frames the story, Henry seems to be less afraid of death and the consequences of his excesses  and abuses, less terrified of the possibility that the Pope might truly hold the keys to Heaven’s Gate, than he is afraid of Anne, who dared to reach beyond her grasp, and at his death, is still reaching. Judith Arnopp’s Anne Boleyn reminds me of Stendall’s Julien Sorel in my favorite classic, The Red and the Black. Her crime, like Julien’s, is that she dared.

Reading Kiss of the Concubine is a fine precursor to settling in with a glass of excellent white wine and perusing an entire library shelf that tells Anne’s story less eloquently and less well than Arnopp’s whispering masked woman shown on the cover of her novel. And yes, Arnopp’s Anne dares to wear a mask. The rather ingenious scene that gives the novel its title and frames the story is not the essence of the book, although it adds to a reader’s pleasure. We never meet the obese tyrant who Henry becomes in his later years, and we are not tempted to speculate as to what impression Henry and Anne’s stillborn son might have had on the history of the Tudors had he breathed. The denouement of the Tudors is written by the childless queens Mary and Elizabeth and is not the story told in Kiss of the Concubine. Kiss, in essence, is a politically motivated love affair, fraught with pragmatisms which overwhelm the passions of the lovers.  We see Henry as Anne saw him. Just as Anne was Henry’s prize, Henry was Anne’s, and for both of them, winning comes with a price. Anne is not portrayed as a martyr, and she is allowed her human flaws. She is jealous and resentful, often judgmental and ambitious, but not arrogant.
For a reader who would like to know the woman who caused all the fuss and died in Fortune’s afterglow, I can think of no more entertaining way to meet her than in the pages of this well-researched and brilliantly written book.

Judith Arnopp

The Kiss of the Concubine by Judith Arnopp and edited by Cas Peace, is available on Amazon and at Amazon UK.

Linda Root is the author of four books of the Queen of Scots Suite, with a fifth pending.