The Wars of the Roses were a prolonged period of political disorder and conflict in fifteenth-century England, stemming from the disastrous reign of Henry VI and issuing forth in a series of popular uprisings, magnate rebellions, battles, skirmishes and usurpations of the throne. They took place in a polity with strong central institutions and powerful civic values – and they were, in this sense, civil wars, fought by lords and commons alike over the demand for good government and the need to restore authority. Yet because this polity was also founded on structures of lordship, deriving from the ownership of land and perpetuated by habits of deference, chivalry and personal authority, the Wars were also conflicts between families and friends, and were equally concerned with property, territory and local power. This dual nature makes the causation and development of the conflict peculiarly interesting, and has produced copious debate over the political values and culture of the period and its place in the evolution of English government and political society. What lay behind the assertive behaviour of such ‘overmighty subjects’ as Richard of York and Warwick the Kingmaker? What led to the usurpations of Edward IV, Richard III and Henry VII, and why did only two of them succeed? How did politicians, thinkers and ordinary people respond to the experience of civil war? How much impact did the limited fighting – estimated at only 13 weeks of actual campaigning – really have? And how was this fighting managed? The English were used to sending small semi-professional armies to France: how did they raise troops and conduct campaigns when the enemy was other Englishmen, and the aim not conquest, but political advantage? As far as government is concerned, many historians have argued for a strengthening of royal power during the 1470s, 80s and 90s, but it remains unclear what caused this strengthening, or how it fits with the many challenges and set-backs experienced by the kings of these decades.

To these interpretative questions, the sources add a further layer of interest and complexity. The government records of the time are often very bland, masking conflict and precarious authority behind the measured language of bureaucrats. Gentry correspondences, such as the Paston Letters, contain rumours, newsletters and even eyewitness accounts, but they are far from neutral and not always as well-informed as they appear. Then there are the highly coloured narratives of contemporary politicians and commentators: not only are the biases of these accounts difficult to read, they also involve a further complication – the first substantial reception into English political discourse of Renaissance terminologies and motifs, as the Englishmen of this period compared their politics to those of the decaying Roman republic. And there are other materials requiring even greater ingenuity to read – prophecies, buildings, works of art, and the recently-discovered burial pit at Towton. What J. R. Lander called ‘the dark glass of the fifteenth century’ can be approached from many directions, and discovering how to see through it is one of the great challenges of the period.

So it is that although the Wars of the Roses have attracted a great deal of research and provide the focus for extremely lively (not to say combative) historical debate, there is no overall agreed characterisation of the conflict; lots of questions, both large and small, remain open; and there remains a lot for students to get their teeth into. Oxford, finally, is a good place to study the Wars of the Roses. This University is home to a very distinguished tradition of fifteenth-century history (among others, C. L. Kingsford, K. B. McFarlane, C. A. J. Armstrong, Gerald Harriss, Maurice Keen, C. S. L. Davies, Jeremy Catto), library collections are strong in this area, and a number of historians in today’s faculty continue to research and publish on the period.