The Other Tudors. Philippa Jones
of plotting, abortive risings and failures. Richard III was dead, other claimants were too distant to the throne or too young and, as Henry stated in proclamations issued after Bosworth, he was king by right of descent and by possession. Henry VII further cemented his claim to the throne by marrying the rival family heiress, Elizabeth of York, eldest daughter of Edward IV. Elizabeth grew up with the knowledge of her father’s frequent and constant unfaithfulness to her mother, which was common gossip. Yet she saw that her father and mother still loved each other; she learned that a queen’s duty was to produce heirs, smile and say nothing. Henry VIII would have observed that his mother, alluded to as the perfect king’s wife, was always subservient to her husband, a mother to his children and a docile adornment to his Court. Here he found the template for his ideal queen.
Elizabeth fulfilled her destiny with calm good sense, her eldest child born eight months after her marriage. She bore her husband three sons – Arthur in 1486, Henry in 1491 and Edmund in 1499 – and four daughters – Margaret in 1489, Elizabeth in 1492, Mary in 1496 and Catherine in 1503 – losing one son and two daughters in childhood. She was idealised by many as the perfection of womanhood, yet her husband kept her powerless, giving authority and his affection and trust to his mother, Margaret. Elizabeth found herself playing second fiddle to her mother-in-law; at the Christmas festivities in 1487, Margaret wore the same costume, ‘like mantell and surcott as the queen, with a rich corrownall on her hede.’2 Margaret would accompany Elizabeth on state occasions, walking and standing directly behind her; she went on progresses with Henry and Elizabeth. At Woodstock and in the Tower apartments, Margaret’s rooms adjoined the King’s.
Margaret Beaufort was a wealthy woman in her own right; she managed her own affairs and kept tight hold on her wealth. She would demand her rights and pursue a debt to death and beyond. She taught her son the value of a well-filled treasury, but failed to make such an impression on her grandson, who may have been heartily tired of advice on the need for prudence. His father and grandmother both approved of his teenage years when he was kept on an allowance from his father without a privy purse of his own.
Henry VII had married a young, beautiful, virtuous, well born lady, but this had never stopped any of his predecessors or family members from engaging in extramarital liaisons. Taking a mistress and fathering children out of wedlock was commonplace. In a time when virtually all marriages were arranged for financial and family benefits, it was reasonable to seek love outside the marriage. Given that Henry VII was the king and a red-blooded male in a political marriage, it would have been amazing if he had not found affection with other ladies. The temptation was all around him: Elizabeth’s ladies were chosen for their beauty and charm.
In the early years of his reign, Henry VII delighted in spending money on show and display. There were lavish building projects and splendid clothes for him, his family and courtiers, as well as extravagant pastimes. The King loved hunting and hawking, and when he rebuilt Sheen (after the palace on the bank of the Thames in Surrey burned down in 1497) he added ‘houses of pleasure to disport in at chess, tables, dice, cards …’ and established a menagerie at the Tower, with ‘lions, leopards, wild cats and rare birds …’3 He also enjoyed dancing and music. Two interesting references from his privy purse accounts may indicate that love and music can easily go together: 25 August 1493, payment ‘to the young damsel that danceth’ – £30; 13 January 1497, payment ‘to a little maiden that danceth’ – £12’.4
To offer these dancers the equivalent of the annual salary of a lady-in-waiting for one performance (or even several) seems a trifle excessive if dancing was all that was on offer. Henry VII was taking his pleasure in as safe a way as he could, in the company of young ladies whose social position meant that they could have no influence whatsoever. It was a lesson his son would have been wise to learn: taking mistresses who would not cause trouble. The difference was that whereas Henry VII wanted sex, Henry VIII wanted love.
PRINCE HENRY
Born on 28 June 1491 at Greenwich Palace, Henry was the second son of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York. Henry VII was 34 when his second son was born and had been king for six years. At the time of Henry’s birth, Elizabeth was already recognised as a devoted wife and mother. The only surviving contemporary portrait of her shows a plump lady, pale skinned with fair, red-gold hair. Sources of the time give us further insight – the Spanish Ambassador wrote of Elizabeth that she was ‘kept in subjection by the mother of the king’, and was shown little love by either. Others described Elizabeth as beautiful, noble, beloved, great in ‘charity and humanity.’5
Almost immediately, Henry was separated from his mother and given his own household at Eltham with his brother Arthur, the Prince of Wales, his sister Margaret and the children who followed. The Royal Court travelled a great deal, and it would have been almost impossible to take children with it as there were too many strangers, who might bring disease or attempt assassination. The King, however, needed to keep himself in the public eye, and the houses where he and his Court stayed needed to be cleaned, after only a few months, so the never-ending movement was a necessity for the King and Queen.
In June 1491 when Henry was born, Margaret Beaufort was in the midst of organising the royal nursery at Eltham; Elizabeth was hardly involved at all. Margaret would, therefore, be the person the young prince would come into contact with most frequently. Her religion now dominated her life. She had taken a vow of perpetual chastity and, despite being married, she dressed like a nun. Margaret’s powerful, dominant role in Henry’s life was to reinforce his distaste for strong-willed women and his liking for those who gave in to him rather than thwarted him.
By September 1494 the three-year-old Henry was already Constable of Dover Castle, Warden of the Cinque Ports, Earl Marshal of England and Lieutenant of Ireland. The Duke of York was added to his titles in answer to the claims of Perkin Warbeck (who claimed to be Richard, Duke of York, son of Edward IV, one of the lost Princes in the Tower who had disappeared whilst under the protection of their uncle, Richard III). Henry was first made a Knight of the Bath and, on 18 May 1495, Knight of the Order of the Garter. From the time he was first aware, Henry knew he was special, the centre of attention, as grown men – politicians and soldiers – bowed down to him.
Between late 1496 and early 1497 Arthur went to Ludlow, Shropshire, to set up a separate household as Prince of Wales. With Arthur gone, Eltham became the household of Henry, Duke of York. Even though his sister Margaret was older, as a son Henry took precedence. However, he would always stand second to Arthur, as the future king.
Some historians and novelists like to portray Henry as jealous, determined to outdo Arthur in everything to prove he was better. However, there is no evidence that Henry resented or was jealous of his brother, or that he failed to acknowledge that he would have to find his own place in the world, once Arthur became king.
During the Cornish ‘rebellion’ of 1497, the local people rose up against taxes forced on them by Henry VII to pay for opposing the pretender, Perkin Warbeck, in the north, far away from Cornwall, in southwest England. When it looked as if the Cornish rebels would reach London unopposed, Elizabeth of York and the young Henry sheltered at the Coldharbour, a house near the Tower of London, and then, on Monday 12 June, in the Tower itself.6 Thus, Henry was finally able to spend time with his mother. They were together, without any other family members, and were in some danger. For a week they supported and encouraged each other.
Once the rebellion was crushed (with 2,000 dead at Blackheath in south London), the Cornish were allowed to return home, but were heavily fined. Later that same year some of the Cornish rebels joined forces with other West Country malcontents in support of Warbeck. Although the leaders were executed, the rest again received heavy fines. The result may well have been that six-year-old Prince Henry learned to distrust leniency. Two of his wives were to pay the price for this lesson. Other kings divorced unwanted wives and then imprisoned them or sent them to nunneries; Henry executed them.
Lord Herbert of Cherbury stated in The Life and Raigne of Henry the Eighth, published in 1649, that Prince Henry, as a younger son, was destined for the Church. There is no other evidence for this interesting claim.