The intoxicating spell of Historical Novels from Tudor Times

Reading history allows us to understand what happened. Reading historical fiction allows us to be moved by what happened.

Even after we know the facts, we continue to search for sense and meaning. That is at the essence of our humanity, it's easy to be drawn into the story, and I often find myself being pulled into the plot by imagining that I am one of the characters. The historical novelist exposes the reader to the inner lives of people across time and place, and in doing so illuminates history’s untold stories, allowing the reader to experience a more complex truth and experience.

The novel ‘Heartstone’ written by C J Sanson, is set in the turbulent times of Tudor England in 1545. During Henry VIII's reign, the nation faced imminent invasion by the French at that time. The book's main character features a hunch-back lawyer investigating a gruesome murder.

In the novel, the sinking of the Mary Rose, the pride of the king’s war fleet, is terrifyingly atmospheric, so much so that whilst reading the book, I felt a strong urge to visit the ‘Mary Rose’ in Portsmouth to understand and try to ‘live through’ the history of those times for myself and bring the book to life.

A Visit to the Mary Rose Museum in Portsmouth

At the Museum, the remains of the ship are housed in a new building in Portsmouth, England. At the entrance of the museum are two Royal Cannons from the Mary Rose, raised from the sea bed and restored.

Henry VIII was an enthusiastic shipbuilder - his favourite amongst the fleet was the 'Flagship Mary Rose'. His “Army by Sea” saw his fleet grow to 58 at the time of his death in 1547, from a modest 5 at the start of his reign.

Before the development of a standing Navy, English kings relied upon requisitioning merchant vessels in times of need. This was certainly cheaper than building, maintaining, and manning ships in times of peace, but it was inefficient and difficult to mobilize. With the threat of Scotland to the north and France to the south, Henry VIII began to build his Navy as soon as he came to the throne.

Over 19,000 objects have been recovered from the wreck site. They include the weapons and armour used by the ‘Army’ together with personal items, craftsmen’s tools, cookware, mugs and clothing (including rosary beads) giving a flavour of the people living through those times.

As I walked the long, dark, glass corridor, battle scenes were superimposed upon the actual wreck to recreate the drama. Cannon fire and shouting from the men, as in an epic Hollywood movie from the surround sound speakers created the atmosphere, it was as if I was a part of the tragic events on that day.

On the other side of the walkway, graphic images appear on the mirror image of the wreck giving the impression of walking through the centre of the ship during battle.

The loss of the Mary Rose

When the French fleet arrived, Henry watched from Southsea Castle. The lack of wind gave the French the advantage, the oared French galleys able to advance while the large sailing ships of Henry VIII's fleet were immobile. Towards the afternoon, however, the wind rose and the English Lord Admiral Lisle led out his large sailing ships, including the Mary Rose.

The Mary Rose fired from her starboard side, then came about to fire from the port side. As she turned, she listed to one side, her starboard side low in the water. The Spanish Ambassador Francois van der Delft, an eyewitness to the battle, wrote that the ship “heeled over with the wind”. The starboard gunports were, crucially, left open, and, with the final nudge from the wind, they fatally dipped below the waterline. The water flooded in and the ship went down in a matter of minutes. Of the nearly 500 men on board, no more than 35 survived.

Despite the tragedy of losing the Mary Rose, she was the only loss of the battle. The two fleets sat in a deadlock in the Solent, a situation that favoured the English, who only needed to hold the port and had sufficient supplies and reinforcements. On the 23rd July 1545, the French Admiral Claude d’Annebault made the decision to retreat.

Imagining myself to be one of the poorer sailors that day, I had no heavy armour to protect my upper body from the arrows of French Archers, whistling past me as the ship headed out into the Solent. As the ship started listed heavily, I imagined holding on to the wooden railing on the port side of the Mary Rose. Imagining the rising sea-water with such force, it was difficult to stand, I struck my halberd into one of the wooden supports to steady myself on the rolling deck.

As I clung on in desperation and watched in horror as my fellow crewmen were swept underneath the powerful waves. The swell of the ocean and speed of the vessel carried men off the main deck to certain death as they were dragged down into the water. The weight of their armour made it impossible for them to swim or rise to the surface, throngs of men were pulled into 'Davy Jones Locker'.

'Oh God,' I begged and prayed, 'please save me from this.' Imagining that I was slipping and losing my grip, I prayed even harder 'Oh God, please redeem me...my mother...my mother...oh God please save me, I shall never see her again, oh please dear God, please.'

Then the miracle; my halberd pulled off the railing and support and I was in the sea clinging with all my might to this piece of wood. Shivering with cold and fright, not knowing if the taste of saltwater were my tears or the very sea that had swallowed my friends and countrymen, I hung on exhausted, shocked, desperately waiting to be rescued.

The Raising of the Mary Rose

I remember watching the Mary Rose being raised to the surface on 11 October 1982 after 437 years on the sea bed of the Solent. A cannon was fired from the ramparts of Southsea Castle, the spot where Henry VIII would have watched the battle on that fateful day, to signal the historic moment.

Yet just before midday one of the pins holding the lifting frame sheared, a steel line snapped and part of the 80 tonne frame smashed down on the hull.

Speaking after the accident, Prince Charles, President of the Mary Rose Trust, and a seasoned diver at the wreck spoke of his shock:

“I was slightly horrified but I thought the best thing to do was to be British and not panic.”

Acknowledgements to the Mary Rose Museum, Portsmouth, and C J Sansom's novel 'Heartstone'.