Part 1 (1/2)
Elizabeth of York.
A Tudor queen and her world.
Alison Weir.
We will unite the white rose and the red.
Smile Heaven upon this fair conjunction That long hath frowned upon their enmity!- What traitor hears me, and says not Amen?
England hath long been mad and scarred herself; The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, The father rashly slaughtered his own son, The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire: All this divided York and Lancaster, Divided in their dire division.
O now let Richmond and Elizabeth, The true successors of each royal House, By G.o.d's fair ordinance conjoin together!
And let their heirs-G.o.d, if Thy will be so- Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced peace, With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days!
William Shakespeare.
Richard III.
INTRODUCTION.
Elizabeth of York's role in history was crucial, although in a less chauvinistic age it would, by right, have been more so. In the wake of legislation to give women the same rights in the order of succession as male heirs, it is interesting to reflect that England's Elizabeth I would not have been the celebrated Virgin Queen but Elizabeth of York. But in the fifteenth century it would have been unthinkable for a woman to succeed to the throne. Elizabeth lived in a world in which females were regarded as inferior to men physically, intellectually, and morally. It was seen as against the laws of G.o.d and Nature for a woman to wield dominion over men: it was an affront to the perceived order of the world. Even so, Elizabeth of York was important. She was the daughter, sister, niece, wife, mother, and grandmother of monarchs: daughter to Edward IV, sister to Edward V, niece to Richard III, wife to Henry VII, mother to Henry VIII, and grandmother to Edward VI, Mary I, and Elizabeth I; and she was the mother of two queen consorts. She was also the ancestress of every English monarch since 1509, every Scots monarch since 1513, and every British monarch since 1603, including the present queen, Elizabeth II.
Her impressive pedigree is not the only reason why I have chosen to write Elizabeth of York's biography. She lived through a momentous, well-doc.u.mented period of history that saw the beginning of the transition from the medieval to the modern world. She was closely connected to some of England's most controversial figures, among them Richard III, Henry VII, Henry VIII, and the notorious-or possibly misunderstood-Wydevilles, her mother's family. I wanted to discover how she interacted with these famous people and what we could learn of her through those dealings. Above all, what influence, if any, did she have on her son, the future Henry VIII?
I knew that there were conundrums relating to Elizabeth of York, and I suspected that too many a.s.sumptions about her had been based on unreliable sources. It seemed to me that there were two Elizabeths: the one who was proactive in intriguing behind the scenes to become queen consort; and, later, the docile, compliant royal wife who effectively lacked a voice. How could one reconcile the two? And was either view accurate?
I was drawn again to the mystery surrounding the disappearance of Elizabeth's brothers, the Princes in the Tower, a subject on which I published a book in 1992. What did she know or believe? How could she apparently have contemplated marrying the man who was widely reputed to have had the boys killed? And later, when a pretender surfaced, claiming to be one of her brothers, how did that impact on Elizabeth? I wanted to investigate whether there was any way of finding out where she stood in the ensuing crises. Writing her biography has given me the opportunity of revisiting and re-researching these controversial issues, and revising in some measure my former conclusions. I have also been fortunate to be writing at a time when Richard III's remains were discovered in Leicester. It has been illuminating to be able to explore the implications of his being found to be the ”Crouchback” of the so-called propagandists.
I was interested too in new views on the Wydevilles. It seemed that they must have influenced Elizabeth enormously. Above all, I was struck by the dramatic dynastic changes with which she had to cope. Born a Plantagenet, of the House of York, she came to be identified with the Wydeville party, which was crushed by Richard III, with dire consequences for her and her relatives; then she married a Tudor, the representative of the rival House of Lancaster-no easy transition, one suspects. What really is striking is how successfully she met the challenge. Yet she has usually been perceived as a queen who had no influence, who was kept in subjection by her husband and dominated by her fearsome mother-in-law, Margaret Beaufort. Again we have a conundrum. Here was an intelligent woman who had suffered frightening events in childhood, and tragedy, dispossession, and virtual imprisonment as a teenager, yet was ambitious for herself and protective of her family. What was the truth about her relations.h.i.+p with Henry VII and her role as Queen?
I was aware that there was a wealth of source material to be explored. Having written historical biographies of women whose lives are doc.u.mented only in fragments, I knew that when it came to Elizabeth there would be scope not only for forensic a.n.a.lysis but also for a strong and dramatic narrative, a narrative carried by vivid and very detailed source material. It would be possible to write about the human side of her life. In these aspects, I would be returning to the form of many of my earlier books. As with all medieval biography, particularly of women, there are frustrating gaps in our knowledge; but there is sufficient evidence from which to draw conclusions about Elizabeth's character. A wealth of reliable contemporary quotes underpins the authenticity of her story.
When I embarked on this book, I had no idea if I would find information to solve, or throw light on, all the conundrums, or where my research would lead me. Much remains conjectural, of course, but I have been able to draw new conclusions about Elizabeth, correct some errors, and reconcile some apparent contradictions. I did not expect to make one very startling connection between her and the mystery of the princes, but if one compares the chronology of events with information in her Privy Purse Expenses, it is there for all to see. Once that link was made and I dug deeper, even more significant facts emerged. The connection is open to speculation, but it is too much of a coincidence to be dismissed, and it is evidence that no one has taken into account until now.
What also emerged from the collation of source material was the significance of Elizabeth's final progress in the summer of 1502. Put that in its historical context, and some surprising inferences may be drawn, showing that the story of her last year may be sadder than we knew.
It was Elizabeth of York's ”fortune and grace to be queen.”1 It is our fortune and grace to have so many surviving insights into the life of this remarkable woman.
Alison Weir.
Carshalton, Surrey.
February 2013.
A NOTE ON MONETARY VALUES.
I have used the National Archives Currency Converter to determine the present-day value of sums quoted in the text. The approximate worth of such sums at the time of writing, rounded to the nearest 10, is quoted in brackets. Please note that values could change from year to year. Salary quotes are annual amounts.
PROLOGUE.
”Now Take Heed What Love May Do”
In January 1466, Thomas Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury, and nine of his fellow bishops were summoned to the Palace of Westminster. The Queen of England, Elizabeth Wydeville,1 was shortly to bear her first child, and these princes of the Church were to be ready and waiting to baptize the infant ”which the Queen shall bring forth” as soon as it was born.
The birth of a son and heir to a.s.sure the continuance and future prosperity of his dynasty was of paramount importance to King Edward IV, first sovereign of the royal House of York. Five years before, he had emerged triumphant after six years of conflict with the rival House of Lancaster, which had ended in a b.l.o.o.d.y dispute for the crown. The roots of that conflict went back to 1399, when Henry IV, the first Lancastrian sovereign, had usurped the throne. His son, Henry V, had been the respected and feared victor of Agincourt, but the warrior hero's son, the weak and ineffectual Henry VI, proved a disaster, allowing himself to be dominated by court factions concerned chiefly with promoting their own interests. He failed to address the many problems he had inherited: a divided council, a legal system corrupted by local magnates and their armed retainers, an aristocracy that was growing ever mightier and losing its integrity, and a war with France-the Hundred Years' War, which had been waged since 1337-that could not be won but was draining the country of its resources. This lack of firm government had led relentlessly to a breakdown of law and order throughout the realm of England, and the weakening of royal authority.
Henry VI's cousin, Richard, Duke of York (Elizabeth of York's grandfather), arguably had a better claim to the throne, being senior to Henry in descent from Edward III, but through the female line. York was wealthy, respected, experienced in warfare and government, and-unlike the King-the father of a large family with healthy sons. To begin with, York's ambitions had not included a crown, but he was dismayed at the misrule of the court faction that controlled Henry VI, which was led by the Queen, Margaret of Anjou, and Henry's kinsman, Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset. York was determined to eliminate the endemic corruption and indiscriminate patronage that characterized their regime. In this, he had the support of his cousin and princ.i.p.al ally, the mighty Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, who was to become Elizabeth's G.o.dfather. Warwick was the archetypal English magnate, whose chief motivations were self-promotion and the acquisition of wealth. He was power-hungry, proud, ruthless, violent, and forceful, but a brave commander and very popular with the people of England. Unlike York, he had the common touch, coupled with lavish, open-handed hospitality. The splendor and extravagance of his household was renowned.
By 1450 the Lancastrian government was bankrupt, milked dry by the court faction. Dissension festered, and the situation was exacerbated in 1453 when Henry VI lapsed into either catatonic schizophrenia or a depressive stupor. His incapacity put an end to any hope of unity between the opposing political factions. It brought Queen Margaret, with her poor understanding of English politics, to the forefront of power, and deprived the country of its head of state, removing the last brake on the rapaciousness of the court party. And while the King was comatose, Queen Margaret bore a son, Edward of Lancaster.
Parliament nominated York as regent, and he began to tackle the vast task of reforming the administration. But he had not made much headway when Henry VI recovered his senses and rea.s.serted his authority. The royal authority was back in the hands of a weak king debilitated by mental illness.
Convinced that the Queen and her party were about to destroy him, York raised an army. The first battle in what later became known as the Wars of the Roses-a term coined by Sir Walter Scott, but which contemporaries called the Cousins' Wars-took place at St. Albans in 1455, eleven years before Elizabeth's birth. Somerset was killed, and York quickly reestablished his political supremacy. Resentment smoldered, and hostilities broke out again in 1459, with the Queen's faction emerging victorious. But after York won a resounding victory at Northampton in 1460, the nature of the conflict changed.
After decades of misrule, the English people were beginning to view Richard of York as a serious rival for Henry VI's crown, and it was at this point that York openly laid claim to the throne and the Wars of the Roses became a dynastic struggle.
A compromise was reached: Henry VI was to retain the crown for his lifetime, but would be succeeded by York. Queen Margaret, outraged at the disinheriting of her son, again went to war. In 1460, York and his second son, Edmund, Earl of Rutland, were killed at the Battle of Wakefield.
York's cause was immediately taken up by his capable nineteen-year-old son, Edward, Earl of March. In March 1461, having successfully routed the Lancastrians, March entered London in triumph and was proclaimed King Edward IV. One Londoner observed: ”The commons love and adore him as if he were their G.o.d; the entire kingdom keeps holiday for the event.” Edward's enemies remained at large, but later that month, after a decisive but b.l.o.o.d.y victory at the Battle of Towton, he emerged as the undoubted ruler of England. Queen Margaret fled to France with her son, and Henry VI remained in hiding until 1465, when he was captured and placed in honorable confinement in the Tower of London. By then, England was enjoying the fruits of firm government.
Edward had not achieved power without the staunch help of his father's ally, Warwick. Next to the King, Warwick was now the greatest man in England and Edward's chief mainstay and supporter. For the first three years of the reign, he virtually controlled the government of the realm, carried along on a tide of popularity. Whenever he showed himself in public, attended by his customary train of six hundred liveried retainers, crowds would run to see him, crying, ”Warwick! Warwick!” It seemed that G.o.d had ”descended from the skies.”2 ”Warwick seems to me everything in this kingdom,” observed the Milanese amba.s.sador,3 but although Edward IV relied on Warwick in many ways, he would not be ruled by him. This was not apparent to everyone, even Warwick himself, who certainly overestimated his influence over the King. Nor was it obvious to foreign observers, such as the citizen of Calais who wrote to King Louis XI of France: ”They tell me that they have two rulers in England: Monsieur de Warwick, and another whose name I have forgotten.”4 The Milanese amba.s.sador in France had already foreseen discord between the earl and his master.5 Elizabeth's father, Edward IV, was a splendid figure of a king. Sir Thomas More described him as ”princely to behold, of body mighty, strong and clean-made.” According to the Tudor historian Polydore Vergil, who was commissioned by Henry VII to write a history of England, Edward was ”broad-shouldered” and ”his head and shoulders towered above those of nearly all other men.”6 His skeleton, discovered during excavations in St. George's Chapel, Windsor, in 1789, measured over six-foot-three, so he was unusually tall for his time. Above all he was ”unusually handsome”7: the chronicler Philippe de Commines, a writer and diplomat who worked for Louis XI, remembered Edward as ”the handsomest prince my eyes ever beheld.” His hair was brown,8 as it appears in portraits and in the strands found near his skull. According to the chronicler Olivier de la Marche, Edward ”was a handsome prince and had style.”
The young king was well aware of the effect his dazzling good looks had on people. He loved to show off his ”fine stature,” displaying it to advantage in rich and revealingly cut clothes.9 By fifteenth-century standards, he was remarkably clean, having his head, legs, and feet washed every Sat.u.r.day night, and sometimes more frequently.
But it was not just good looks that made Edward IV a popular king. He excelled Henry VI in nearly every way, especially as a statesman and a general. He was a firm and resolute ruler, shrewd and astute, and had real ability and business ac.u.men, as well as the willingness to apply himself. He was successful in his determination to restore the authority of the monarchy and make it an inst.i.tution that once more inspired reverence and respect.
Edward was ”of sharp wit, high courage and retentive memory, diligent in doing his affairs, ready in perils, earnest and horrible to the enemy, and bountiful to his friends and acquaintances ... Humanity was bred in him abundantly.” Handsome, affable, and accessible, he was also ”given to bodily l.u.s.t,” and consequently ”would use himself more familiarly among private persons than the honor of his majesty required.” Edward's chief vice was his sensuality, and his debaucheries were soon notorious. ”He thought of nothing but upon women, and on that more than reason would, and on hunting, and on the comfort of his person.”10 Dominic Mancini, an Italian visitor to England, thought him ”licentious in the extreme. It was said that he had been most insolent to numerous women after he had seduced them, for as soon as he had satisfied his l.u.s.t, he abandoned the ladies, much against their will, to the other courtiers. He pursued with no discrimination the married and unmarried, the n.o.ble and the lowly. However, he took none by force. He overcame all by money and promises.” It was not long before l.u.s.t would lead Edward into a situation that would have far-reaching consequences for himself and his children.
”Now take heed what love may do!”11 All went well between the King and Warwick until 1464, when Edward-”led by blind affection and not by rule of reason”12-married an impoverished Lancastrian widow, Elizabeth Wydeville, Lady Grey. The Wydevilles were an old established family in Northamptons.h.i.+re, where they owned the manor of Grafton Regis. Elizabeth's father, Sir Richard Wydeville, had boldly aspired to wed Jacquetta of Luxembourg, daughter of Peter of Luxembourg, Count of St. Pol, and ”of the blood of Charlemagne.” In 1433 she had made a highly prestigious marriage with John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford (the younger brother of Henry V), who had governed France in the name of the infant Henry VI. Bedford had died in 1435, whereupon the childless Jacquetta inherited all his estates. With almost indecent haste, she married Richard Wydeville, a member of Bedford's staff. Immediately Jacquetta's French relations cut her off, despising Wydeville as a mere ”simple knight,” and she was fined 1,000 [469,350] by the English Council for remarrying without permission. But that scandal was long past now, and Wydeville had been raised to the peerage as Baron Rivers in 1448.
Legend has it that Edward IV first encountered Elizabeth Wydeville under an oak tree in Whittlebury Forest, where she and her two young sons fell on their knees before him and she begged him to restore to her the lands of her late husband, Sir John Grey of Groby, who had been killed fighting for Henry VI.13 Sadly, there is no truth in the tale: Grey was never attainted, so his lands had not been confiscated. Even so, a big oak tree at Yardley Hill is still known as the Queen's Oak.
Elizabeth Wydeville was ”a woman more of formal countenance than of excellent beauty, of sober demeanor, lovely looking and feminine smiling, neither too wanton nor too humble. Her tongue was so eloquent and her wit was pregnant.”14 She was ”moderate of stature, well made and very wise.”15 Her portraits show a poised, elegant, blond woman with the shaven forehead fas.h.i.+onable at that time, a slender figure, and facial features that would be considered striking in any age.16 Elizabeth of York was to inherit her mother's looks.
Elizabeth Wydeville wasn't interested in money or promises, but held out for marriage. Rumors abounded in the 1460s and beyond that she had refused to become Edward's mistress, or had threatened to stab herself when he tried to rape her, or that he had held the dagger to her throat to force her to submit, or that her mother had used witchcraft to ensnare him. Whatever the tactics, they proved successful. The marriage took place in secret, probably after August 30, 1464. When it was made public that September, it provoked a furor. In an age in which kings married foreign princesses for political advantage, marrying for love was regarded as akin to insanity, and choosing the widow of a man who had fought for the King's enemies was almost worse. Moreover no English king since the Norman conquest of 1066 had wed a commoner, one of his own subjects, and it was seen as scandalous that Edward had set aside all thought of duty and obligation to marry for love-and to marry beneath him.