A manor in Northamptonshire, the only property bequathed by Sir Richard's father to the Woodville patriarch in his last will. It had long been the home to first earl and his extense family, but now belongs to Anthony Woodville, the dashing holder of the title. The manor isn't quite remarkable, but still is a comfortable and well-built residence. Saint Mary at Grafton Regis is the family's prefered burial place.
WOODVILLES
FAMILY TREE
FAMILY TREE:
Richard Woodville, Earl Rivers (1405-1467), married Jacquetta of Luxembourg (1415):
-Elizabeth Woodville (1437), married Sir John Grey (1) and Edward IV (2):
1) Thomas Grey, Marquess of Winchester, Earl of Salisbury, Lord of Glamorgan, Baron Monthermer, Baron Astley (1453). Married Lady Anne Neville (1456):
Edward Grey (1469).
Eleanor Grey (1471-1473).
Elizabeth Grey (1473).
1) Richard Grey (1457), married Lady Cecily Bonville, Baroness Harington and Baroness Bonville (1460).
2) Elizabeth of York (1465).
2) Edward of Grafton, Prince of Wales, Duke of Grafton, Duke of Cornwall, Earl of Chester, Earl of March (1467).
2) Richard of Westminster, Duke of York (1470).
2) Bridget of York (1472).
2) Edmund of York, Earl of Rutland (1473).
-Lewis Woodwille, died in childhood.
-Anne Woodville (1439). Married Roger Kyriell, Earl of Monmouth (1443):
Elizabeth Kyriell (1470).
Celily Kyriell (1472).
Catherine Kyriell (1473).
-Anthony Woodville, 2nd Earl Rivers (1440), married Elizabeth Courtenay (1449).
Anne Woodville (1472).
Anthony Woodville (1473).
Lionel Woodville (1474).
-Mary Woodville (1443), married Sir Thomas Bourchier, 1st Baron Conington (1442).
Richard Bourchier (1471-73).
Edward Bourchier (1473).
-Jacquetta Woodville (1444), married Sir Edward Courtenay (1447).
-John Woodville (1445), married Katherine Neville, duchess dowager of Norfolk (1400).
-Lionel Woodville (1447).
-Eleanor Woodville (1452), married Sir Thomas Stanley, Earl of Wiltshire, Lord of Mann, Baron Stanley (1437).
Edmund Stanley (1471).
Jacquetta Stanley (1472).
-Richard Woodville (1453), betrothed to Elizabeth Grey (c.1465).
-Edward Woodville (1454).
-Margaret Woodville (1454), married Sir Thomas Howard (1443).
-Catherine Woodville (1457), married Henry Stafford, 2nd Duke of Buckingham (1454).
INCOME
Average Income - 30,000 Crowns +5,000 Crowns (Wight)
+20,000 Crowns (High Treasurer)
+7,500 Crowns (Powis, wardship)
----------------------
62,500 Crowns.
MANPOWER
Average Militia - 1000 men. +500 men (Wight)
+500 men (Powis)
Last edited by Oznerol; December 21, 2016 at 04:32 PM.
Grafton Manor was a rather humble residence, something befitting a member of the gentry, like his grandfather Richard once was, but clearly insufficient for the Queen's brother. Still, it was the best Woodville had and the manor itself was well-built and had been embellished in the last years. Anthony was on his chambers, writting. He didn't notice Powis arrival until his butler coughed.
"Ah, yes"
His fingers were stained with ink, like a common secretary. He covered the parchment with sand, to dry the black ink.
John stepped closer as he was bid. The teenaged lad was dressed in a white doublet paired with red hose, the colors of his house - and, conveniently enough, the original arms of the Woodville family as well. He regarded the older man, who had clearly just finished writing something, with some curiosity: unlike some children his age, John had enjoyed his lessons in religion and history, and fancied himself a budding intellectual of sorts. "My lord Rivers."
"I'm aware, Lord Rivers. I look forward to squiring under a man of honor such as yourself." Powis nodded at the older man's words. Apparently the King had put his wardship up for sale and Rivers was the quickest to claim it. Not that he particularly minded - selling wardships happened all the time and his new guardian was none other than the Queen's brother, so surely he was an important man, as well as one who he had heard nothing bad about. "And thank you. I'll send for my sister to join us shortly."
John's gaze wandered over to the parchment Rivers had just been writing on, before returning to his guardian. "If I might ask, out of curiosity...what were you writing just now, my lord?"
"Just my translation of Dits Moraulx des Philosophes. It has never been translated to our fair tongue, Lord Powis"
Rivers had several tomes laid open over his desk.
"It's a curious book a French handed me little ago. I decided, to praise God and His Holy Wisdom, that the words of such sage men should be translated for everyone to read"
Rivers previously had Powis' curiosity, but now he had the boy's full attention. John had heard the earl was the King's champion, so some part of him feared he might turn out to be a meathead with little interest in intellectual pursuits, but Woodville had thankfully proven him to be dead wrong. "Would that more great books written in foreign tongues would be translated into our own," Powis answered pensively. "I have been studying French and Latin, though admittedly not to the standard of a prince or a scholar. Still, I would like to help you translate this...Sayings of Philosophers, in whatever small ways I can contribute, if you will have me." He had paused, uncertain whether he had accurately translated the book's title into English.
"Of course. There're never enough hands in a translation and there are many stories in this book to be told, as insignificant as it may look like"
The edition the earl had was a weathered down, leather-bound one. Certainly, it hadn't been made in Flanders.
"A man must be learned, cultured. The perfect courtier must be sound of mind and body. Many peers are almost illeterate, regarding writing and reading as commoners' endeavours; they couldn't be wronger. As you may have guessed, I made sure my nephew Winchester was properly educated during his years at Grafton, while I also trained him with spear and sword"
He puts the linen cloth used to clean his fingers aside.
"However, I believe you already had these notions, considering your descent from the late duke Humphrey, the greatest patron of his age"
"I agree fully." Powis replied with a smile. Some other boys, sons and nephews of the neighboring Welsh lords and English barons, had dared mock him as (basically) an egghead for having a great interest in literature and learning. "I have found my great-grandsire Humphrey of Gloucester to be one of the greatest figures in my lessons on recent English history, a learned man who put his tremendous knowledge to good practical uses as well - for example, in the Siege of Honfleur." Take that, all you imbeciles who thought liking books made you weak, he had thought when he first heard of it. "What befell him in the end was nothing short of a tragedy. I dearly hope I can live up to his example, someday."
"Indeed. A worthy son of Bolingbroke and a fine scion of Lancaster"
He leaned back on the chair. The studio had some shelves with quite a few books, an impresive amount of them. The walls were lined with wood and it looked like a comfortable, warm studio. He spoke comfortably about Lancaster, they had long been undone and York reigned without opposition.
"Your grandmother was called Antigone. An odd choice of a name, do you know who she was? The one who inspired your great-grandsire to name as such your noble grandmother, I mean"
"No," Powis admitted. "But I do know Antigone isn't an English name. It has Greek roots, I think." He searched his brain for memories of his lessons on Greek history, which admittedly weren't nearly as numerous as those of English and - befitting his Welsh heritage - Britonic history, back to the times of King Arthur. Finally, he recalled one name. "Once, one of my tutors told me about a one-eyed Antigonus, a great Greek warlord who lived many centuries ago and served Alexander the Great. Might Antigone be the female counterpart to his name?" He guessed that great-grandfather Humphrey (being a classical scholar) might have known of this Antigonus too, and rather more about him than Grey himself at that.
"No, but a good shot. Antigone has a special meaning, you know: Ἀντιγόνη, in Greek means 'worthy of one's parents'. According to a very rare manuscript I read once, the Fabulae of Hyginius, she was a daughter of Oedipus. However, Sophocles, God bless him, left us a beautiful tragedy where her life, and the events surrounding it, are told in greater detail"
Said Woodville, looking at the shelves for his copy of Sophocles.
"We shall read it someday, worry not. You'll like the story of the Seven of Thebbes. I have a copy, and you'd like where it came from: seemingly it was originally a gift of your forebear Humphrey to my mother's husband, the Duke of Bedford. My mother, in turn, gifted me the book"
Grey's expression became grave when he heard that Antigone was the child of Oedipus. He knew that infamous tale, of the Greek king who accidentally killed his own father and bedded his mother. "I would ask you for more details on this sad tale of Antigone, Lord Rivers, but I dare not lest I spoil the ending for myself," He remarked dryly. However, his eyes lit up when Rivers went on to speak of the Seven Against Thebes, and how his copy had originally been a gift from the Lancastrian Duke of Gloucester whom he idolized. "Thank you, my lord, I look forward to it. But if we are not to read it today, then what are we reading? Besides The Sayings of Philosophers, of course," he added quickly.
"Worry not, we'll read it soon enough. Winter is coming and certainly we are going to spend a good deal of time indoors"
He said, with a smile. He dressed humbly, with simple woollen clothes, the display reserved for the court.
"We won't read much today, unfortunately. My obligations have been doubled recently, with my appointment as Lord Treasurer; I have to prepare the household to move to London in a couple days, many things must be packed and my brothers are an unruly lot, you see. It will only grow worse whenever the King decides to finally invade France"
Woodville's gaze wandered through his shelves.
"Do you know the Golden Legend of Jacopo della Voragine? It could be a good read for you, while I'm busy elsewhere. Pious lectures as these can only be rejuvenating and refreshing for your soul, God is the ultimate source of all knowledge: wise men are prophets, heralds of His Magnificence and Wisdom"
John nodded, and when Rivers brought up the matter of France, he couldn't help but blurt out, "Do you think the King will take you to France, and if he does, I would come with you, right? My father was Earl of Tankerville in Normandy, but like everything else in Normandy, that's been lost to the French for nearly a quarter of a century now." John had never really known war (having spent the entirety of the War of the Roses cooped up in Powis Castle while his father fought for the House of York), but he still felt that Tankerville was rightful property of the Greys of Powis and that he should reclaim it when the opportunity presents itself.
"Oh, I know of the Legenda Aurea," Powis said when the topic had changed. "My mentor in the faith, Brother Edwin, presented me with a copy as a gift for my twelfth birthday. I haven't finished reading it, but even when I do, I suspect it'll never get old. So far, I'm up to the section on how Saint Agatha repelled a volcanic eruption when the same pagans who martyred her a year prior appealed to her relics. It makes me wonder why even the Saracens haven't embraced Jesus: you can't find any other faith as loving, perfect and true as that in any corner of God's good earth." He would have been able to read the Golden Legend a lot faster were it in English, perhaps even finished it by now if he was allowed to dedicate at least the weekends to it.
"My sister may prefer that I stay by her side while her husband is gone. She will surely feel alone, with the king abroad, and the court is a horse hard to control when its master is gone"
Said Woodville.
"However, should I have to ride with the king, you would, indeed, join my entourage. I know you have some lands to call your own in France: my mother does too, but unfortunately they're in the Frenchmen hands. We'll see"
He looked at the boy.
"And, when you are wrong in your believes, not even the purging fire of Our Lord can cleanse your heresy. It shall be a good read, I'm sure"
Grey nodded along as Rivers explained the politics of the situation. He certainly hoped internal politics wouldn't keep Woodville, and himself, stuck in England while everyone else went off to France - he'd read enough to know that internal backstabbing, including that which was directed at his great-grandsire, was part of what had cost the English their chance to conquer France earlier. "From what I have heard, King Edward is a much stronger man than Henry VI, and his court is not nearly as riddled with corruption and backbiting either," he finally remarked. "I pray it stays that way and that it will prove to be much stabler than Lancaster's own court, so that courtly affairs are not at all likely to hold us back from reclaiming what is rightfully ours." Many among the English nobility, not just Grey and Woodville, had estates in France that were lost when the French overran England's continental possessions outside of Calais.
"So," John began later, recalling Rivers' words about preparing to move to London. "If we are not doing much reading today...what will we be doing, Lord Rivers?"
"Indeed, we all hope so. But, do not think war is a glorified tourney: you'd be mistaken, Grey"
Said Woodville, looking at some point behind Powis' shoulder.
"Anyway, that shouldn't trouble you right now"
He smiled.
"We don't have to do anything, Grey. Today has been long enough, my young ward, you have a room prepared. Rest, for early in the morning we will ride through these lands"