Did Margaret Beaufort “fight all her life to mak...

A short story about Lady Margaret Beaufort and Henry VI

Posted on January 10, 2021January 10, 2021 By Gareth - Editor

Roses, thorns and friendships

1452
I knew I had to stop. Those tingling sensations of vanity were not becoming of a Christian girl. But by Saint George, they felt good.

I looked down again at my flowing scarlet gown. With my open sleeves and gold trimmings I felt as radiant as the sun. I had always known I was from a very great dynasty. For the first time, I felt as majestic as the mythical Yale in our family crest.

“Stop it!” I told myself quietly. Like Our Lady, good little girls were to be pious and penitent. But I didn’t want to “stop it”, whatever I told myself. Pride might be a sin, but it was better than that other feeling. That dark, creeping feeling which I couldn’t put into words. It had grown like a weed since we first stepped foot in Westminster, causing lumps to form in my throat and a knot to twist in my belly. If vanity were the only anecdote to that feeling, perhaps the Virgin might understand.

“Now remember Margaret,” mother said, “I will not be with you when you meet the King.” As she spoke she gently lifted my hair, and sprinkled it neatly around my shoulders. Mother revelled in setting my hair. She could never display her own. Wearing your hair loose is the preserve of Queens and virgins.

“Your uncle Somerset will present you. When he does, you will sink into a deep curtsey. The king will come before you and lift you up. Stand there as he talks to you and answer all his questions with the utmost reverence.”

For a minute, mother looked concerned.

“Actually Margaret, there’s a chance the king won’t lift you out of your curtsey. If he doesn’t, just stay there for as long as you can and then gently fall to your knees. In this dress, no one will notice.”

I looked up at mother. No doubt this gentle woman could see the nerves etched on my face.

“Look, you don’t need to worry. The customs at court are not that different to what we do at home when we have important visitors. I like to think you are a well brought up little girl.” She held my face in her hands and gave me a warm, loving smile. “I am confident you will do us proud.”

I trusted mother with my life. And she was right; though I was not quite 10 years old, the customs of court were within my grasp. I was good with grownups and I had already met dukes, bishops, mayors and all kinds of important men. That wasn’t what I was worried about. I wasn’t worried at all.

I was petrified.

No one knew for sure why the King wanted to see me. I was pledged in marriage to his half-brother, Edmund Tudor, a man I had never met. For mother, this was explanation enough. “He’s just curious to set eyes on his new sister-in-law” she had said, almost a little too cheerily. But I knew otherwise.

The King was angry with me.

Before my betrothal to Edmund, I was troth-plight to a boy named John de La Pole. We had met only once but I was under the power of his father, the Duke of Suffolk, who had been my guardian since I was a baby. Father had died when I was an infant and the King, his cousin, had entrusted my welfare to Suffolk. But the Duke was an evil man.

According to Parliament, Suffolk had done something terrible. Criminal! Evil! Mother had no idea that I knew. She probably thought I didn’t even know what ‘Parliament’ was but I’d heard the servants talking. Their words had lingered in my memory ever since.

“Take this linen up to Lady Margaret’s chamber.”

I knew I wasn’t allowed in the laundry room. Or the kitchens. Or the cellar. But I loved seeing how the servants worked, hearing their earthy language and I was small enough to hide in every nook and cranny of our home, Bletsoe Castle. Mother had always said my destiny was be a great lady, running my own house one day. Surely I needed to see how one actually worked?

“Don’t you mean, Queen Margaret,” said the maid who was now in possession of my linen sheets. She fell into a mock curtsey with a girly sneer. Katherine, the older woman who had instructed her, scowled.

“Don’t look at me like that,” the maid defended. “I’m only saying what they’re saying in Parliament. That Duke of Suffolk was going to kill the king and say Lady Margaret was the next in line. She would be Queen. And his son, the King.”

Blessed saints! The Queen. What did she mean, I was next in line? Why would my guardian want to kill the king?

“Now you listen to me,” Katherine was quiet, but her tone as fierce as a beast. “For as long as you want to work in this castle, you mind your tongue. If I catch you talking about anyone in the family like that again, I’ll have a good mind to cut it off for safe keeping.”

The maid blustered a bit. She looked on the verge of mounting a defence.

“I’m serious!” The older lady continued. “You want the Lady Margaret arrested? Beheaded for treason? You go around repeating stories and the next thing we know, people will think they started at this castle and they’ll see truth where there’s none. Is that what you want? Our precious little girl on the receiving end of the King’s anger. The little Lady Somerset dead? And it all on your conscience!”

The younger maid was sobbing. But emotion would grant her no reprieve.

“Linen! Chamber! Now!”

I scurried away as soon as the coast was clear and told no one what I’d heard. But when mother told me that the King had summoned us to court, I knew what it meant. It was time for me to get my comeuppance.

“Your grace,” my uncle said with a bow after I entered the King’s chamber. Mother was outside. Apart from my uncle and two ushers, I was alone with the king. I had imagined the king’s court to be swarming like a beehive. There were countless guards on the outside of the chamber. I have a wild imagination, Mother often upbraids me for it, but I couldn’t let go of the ridiculous notion that the King was like a prisoner.

“May I present my niece, Lady Margaret of Somerset.”

I moved as mother had instructed. I took a few steps so I was lined up to the King’s throne and dropped into a deep curtsey.

For a minute or two nothing happened. With my small legs, I couldn’t hold my curtsey much longer. As mother suggested, I fell to a kneel. My poor, rich garment was unblemished no more.

I looked up. Was I meant to look up? I had to see what was going on. Now that I was closer I could see the king clearer. He looked dazed, in some kind of stupor. I had imagined he would wear a crown but on his head was a velvet cap.

“My Lady Margaret of Somerset,” my uncle repeated. He raised his voice and lurched slightly in the king’s direction.

The king looked up slowly. He glanced my way, thought for a minute and smiled. There was a gentleness to his face and kindness in his eyes. Steadily he lifted himself from the throne. He came softly toward me as if he were floating. And then –

Blessed mother! He kneeled. The king kneeled and was crouched down just in front of me. His eyes were wide like a puppy. Now that they were closer, I could see the features on his long oval face. I knew he was a full-grown man, but his face was like a little boy’s.

“Lady Somerset,” he said as he took my hand. His eyes were calm and his touch was gentle. I was used to men like my uncle pulling me and pushing me but the king made me feel like he had all the time in the world.

“We are to be friends. You do want to be my friend don’t you?”

“Oh yes. Yes my lord. Very much.” I panicked. Should I have called him ‘your grace’? Why was he asking this? Were my fears confirmed? Was I here to prove my loyalty and answer for my inadvertent betrayal?

“Oh good,” said the king as he sighed with relief. “I need friends my lady.” He looked sad. For a few moments he said nothing.

“You are my friend so you will marry my brother… I love my brother… then we can all be friends together. We can protect each other and…“ He stopped suddenly. He turned over my hand in his as if to inspect my palm. He reached for my other hand and did the same.

“Lady Somerset, you have brought me no parchment.”

Fear stuck me like a lightning bolt. Here I was, kneeling before the King of England and I had come unprepared. Parchment? I had never thought to bring parchment. Why would I need it? But then what did I know of the court? How could mother have sent me in like this? Why was I not fully prepared?

“I’m sorry y-y-your grace,” I quivered. If he had shouted at me I could have born it. I am used to loud, shouty brothers but gentle disappointment was different. If I had failed him, my heart would break. I was using all my strength to fight back tears. Within seconds, I lost the battle.

“No, no, no my lady,” the king said gently. He lifted a finger to my cheeks and wiped away my tears. Then he cupped my hands in his, “I do not want the parchment but people usually bring it to me. They say if I sign it, it will make them happy. I want to make people happy.”

He paused again. This time for a minute or two.

“However, when I do, my friends get cross with me. William was my friend. He used to get angry with me for signing all the parchment. He said that when I signed it, people would be able to take my money and my land. That they would get jobs which were other people’s jobs. When he was with me, people wouldn’t bring me the parchment. Except sometimes…sometimes William brought me parchment too.

“William said that my real friends wouldn’t bring me parchment.” He grasped my cupped hands tightly, but not roughly. “You must be my real friend.”

I felt relief flood through my body. It was like someone had lit a candle in my chest. For the first time in days, the knot in my belly started to loosen. The king wasn’t trying to punish me. He wanted to be my friend.

“William was my friend for a long time,” the king continued. Tears started to well in his kind eyes. “He used to look after me. But then he had to go away and someone killed him. I did forgive him – the man that killed him. It was very hard but I prayed and the virgin helped me forgive him.”

My heart was breaking as I saw the sadness in this gentle man’s eyes. William must be Suffolk, my old father-in-law. Could he have been so wicked to betray a man that loved him thus?

“Now Edmund is my friend…Edmund is your uncle. He looks after me now….and the Queen. The Queen is my wife. She is beautiful and she helps me.

“And you will be my friend too. I can call you Margaret. Will you call me Henry?”

“Oh yes your gra – Henry.” I was almost laughing with joy. The King was not a strict, brutal ruler. He was a kind, pious, gentle man. And he wanted to be my friend.

“Those of us who are friends have to stick together. Edmund says some people don’t want to be my friend. The Queen says Edmund is right.”

I knew my uncle would be right, he always was. But what a strange notion. The king was clearly a kind man. Why wouldn’t anyone want to be his friend?

“I have a cousin called Richard,” he lowered his voice slightly. “He is the Duke of York. I like him but Edmund says he doesn’t like me.” He cupped his hand over her ear and whispered. “He wants me to die. He wants to be king.”

I let out an audible gasp. I felt the heat of anger like I’d never felt it before. How could anyone try and kill the King? He was God’s own anointed ruler! A lovely, kind man.

“Edmund says we must work together. He says you will help. He says that you and my brother – he’s called Edmund too – will go and live in Wales and help keep it safe for me. Will you Margaret? Will you be my friend and help me?”

I had never felt more sure of anything.

“Oh yes Henry,” I said at once. “I will always be your friend. I will always help you.” I meant every word. This Duke of York must be a brutal man. A villain. A beast. And if I had anything to do with it, he would never prosper.

Uncle Somerset walked toward us and placed his hand on the king’s shoulder. They must be great friends to enjoy such intimacy.

“Alas my liege, it is time for Margaret to return to her mother. The Duchess awaits her.”

The king looked dazed again. For a moment he looked up at my Uncle before turning his gaze back to me.

“Margaret, before you go, I need to tell you a secret.”

“Of course Henry.” I was a good secret keeper.

“I am scared. When I die, I might go to hell.”

This couldn’t be true. Henry was the most pious man I had ever met, much more than my brothers or my uncle. But fear flowed from his eyes, so I listened with fervour.

“I think God wanted me to be a monk. But I am a king instead. He might be angry with me. I try to be pious. – to hear mass as often as I can. I try and help the church, and in truth,” he again cupped my ear and whispered to me, “I still live like a monk.”

I didn’t know why the last part was a secret. Or what it meant. How could he live like a monk? Monks spent all day in prayer or in study. Henry had to rule. Never the less, my heart went out to him. I had so recently feared punishment for something I had no control over. This great and kind man was tormented by the same fear.

“I will pray for you every day,” I said with fervour. “I believe you to be a good and holy man. You will be upright in God’s eyes.”

The King paused for a moment. He seemed to be pondering something.

“Margaret most of my friends are older than me. When I die, you might be the only one left.”

I didn’t understand.

“I need you to pray for me then. Hold masses. Make sure my soul is protected. Will you do that for me Margaret? You might be the only one.”

“Oh yes Henry. I will pray for your soul with all the devotion of my own. I will lead a blameless life so that God, the virgin and all the saints will hear my prayers. Me and my husband will say mass and pay for more to be held. We will do everything for you. I promise Henry. I promise.”

Within seconds my uncle was leading me out. I had not even been in the king’s presence for half an hour, yet my life had changed forever. My world and my heart had doubled in size.

Only minutes before I was a little girl. My concerns had been for a simple gown and my fears, just of earthly punishment. Now I was a woman with a cause. I was a friend of the King. I must protect him from his enemies and when he finally departed the mortal coil, I would do everything in my power for his soul. This kind, gentle man was a saint, a hero, a champion, and the world needed to know it.

On that day, I found my purpose. I was prepared to devote my life to it.

5 (of the) ways the ‘Spanish Princess’ distorted Margaret Beaufort

Posted on November 9, 2020November 12, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

No one expects historical fiction to be completely accurate. Or at least, they shouldn’t.

But the ‘Spanish Princess’, now in its second season, has crossed a line.

Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII and grandmother of Henry VIII, is one of England’s most fascinating figures. In her own time she was revered and respected. Those that have really studied her are fascinated by her courage, conviction and compassion. But historical fiction continues to muddy her name.

In both ‘the White Queen’ and the ‘White Princess’ – the predecessors to the ‘Spanish Princess’ – she is presented unfavourably. I don’t agree with either presentation. But I recognise that script writers must be allowed to make creative choices.

But in the ‘Spanish Princess’ it has reached new levels. Margaret is depicted as the pantomime baddie, the orchestrator of every horrible event. This is not just a case of rearranging events to fit the narrative. They have placed her at the heart of crimes that we can prove she had nothing to do with.

Here are just five of the most noteworthy distortions.

Margaret served as regent while Henry VII was in mourning

In the series, Henry falls into a deep mourning when his wife Elizabeth of York unexpectedly dies after childbirth. This is true enough. But in the series, Margaret assumes the role of regent and takes control of the government.

Margaret never served as regent during her son’s reign. While the King was struck by grief, the reaction of this already-secretive man was to draw further into himself. He took an even more obsessive grip on government. To let anyone else, including his mother, rule for him, would have been anathema to his style of kingship.

When her son died, Margaret did serve as an unofficial regent for her grandson, Henry VIII. But this really was just a bit of ‘transitional support’. He was, after all, only a few weeks shy of his 18th birthday.

Margaret’s son Henry had a famously private style of Kingship

2. Margaret ruled England through her son

Even when not acting as regent in the Spanish Princess, Margaret always seems to take charge. She is constantly at court, issuing orders and inflicting trials and tribulations on the Kingdom.

How odd.

As I’ve hinted above, Henry VII had a famously controlling style of Kingship. He did not surrender power to others. While Margaret was at court a great deal in the early days of the reign, as her son and daughter-in-law became more established, she spent far less time in their presence. She established a great house in Collyweston, in Northamptonshire, where she resided over a great household with splendour. The King did trust Margaret, and she was given special authority to administer justice in the north.

But she was not constantly at his side. She did not rule England through him.

3. She had some kind of feud with Margaret Pole

We know little of the relationship between the two Margarets. In the very early days of Tudor reign, Margaret Beaufort had some responsibility for Edward, Earl of Warwick, brother of Margaret of Clarence.

At this stage, the boy represented a potential threat to Henry’s throne and it was important to keep a close eye on him. Having literally just set foot on English soil for the first time in 12 years, Henry had few people he could trust. He naturally turned to his mother. Soon after, new arrangements were found for the young Earl.

It is likely that Margaret Beaufort played a role in coordinating the marriage of the younger Margaret. Richard Pole was Margaret Beaufort’s nephew. Given the importance of Margaret of Clarence’s Plantagenet blood, Henry VII would have wanted her married to a man she could trust.

In the TV series, Margaret Pole is depicted as falling into penury because of taxes inflicted by the King’s mother. Pole did experience financial hardship after her husband’s death as her resources were limited. But she did not suffer the level of poverty depicted in the show. Nor was it anything to do with Margaret Beaufort.

Margaret helped her young grandson, Henry VIII, establish himself on the throne

4. Margaret was a champion of Empson and Dudley and a savage financial regime

In the series, Margaret (during her fictitious period as ‘regent’) brings a man into the council and introduces him as Edmund Dudley. She describes how he is going to help them fill the coffers. Together, they proceed to unleash a savage tax regime on the poor people of England.

It is true that Henry VII became very strict with fines and financial penalties in the last years of his reign (though these were effectively taxes on the super-rich so let’s not let our sympathies get too carried away). It is also true that Edmund Dudley, along with another advisor called Richard Empson, were widely blamed for the initiatives. But there’s no reason to link Margaret Beaufort to these reforms. And there’s every reason not to.

Like many of the wealthy, she found herself on the receiving end of Dudley’s judgements. And, it was when she did actually have some unofficial oversight of the government, in the very early weeks of her grandson’s reign, that the decision to punish these two men (who were soon executed) was taken.

5. Margaret casually dispatched her granddaughters into child marriages

This one really stung.

In one episode, Margaret speaks with her granddaughter, Princess Mary who has been pledged in marriage to Charles V, Katherine of Aragon’s nephew. In the scene, Mary is clearly a little girl. Margaret informs her that she was about the same age when she first married. There was, she says sinisterly, ‘nothing to fear.’

This is the exact opposite of what happened in real life. When her elder granddaughter, Princess Margaret, had been pledged to marry the King of Scots at just nine years of age, the original plan had been to send her north of the border straight away. But Margaret, no doubt drawing on her own experiences as a child bride, intervened. Along with her daughter-in-law, Elizabeth of York, she persuaded Henry VII that Margaret was too young to live as a wife. Her husband, Margaret warned, would not wait. He would consummate the marriage straight away. The young princess would be hurt.

This shows Margaret as a caring grandmother. It also casts light on her reflections of her own brutal child marriage. Yet, for reasons of their own, the writers of the ‘Spanish Princess’ decided to turn this story on its head. They present Margaret as a woman who raised her granddaughters like lambs for the slaughter. I’m not sure I can ever forgive that.

I don’t mean to spoil anyone’s fun. There are probably some brilliant parts of the Spanish Princess that I’m too annoyed to see. But this continual character assassination of Margaret Beaufort cannot continue to go unchallenged.

I’m not asking you not to watch it. I’m actually going to do my level best to finish the series. But I would ask that you don’t base your opinion of Margaret on it. Or any fictional portrayal.

There are some really good factual accounts of Margaret’s life. Two in particular are both informative and accessible:

‘Uncrowned Queen’ – the most recent biography of Margaret Beaufort, by Nicola Tallis.

‘Margaret Beaufort: mother of the Tudor dynasty’, by Elizabeth Norton.

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6 reasons why Margaret Beaufort could not have killed the Princes in the tower

Posted on July 10, 2020August 23, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

About seven years ago I started properly thinking about who killed the Princes in the Tower. I had no bias toward or against any candidate. But I quickly decided that Richard was the most likely perpetrator.

Four years ago I started blogging about my obsession and engaging with other Royal History Geeks online. I learnt how many people held Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII, responsible for the murder of Edward V and his brother, Richard, Duke of York. The Tudor matriarch had never emerged as a meaningful candidate in the books and primary sources I had studied. I was soon to learn that social media follows a different set of rules to scholars.

When it comes to history, we are all entitled to our own opinions. But are we entitled to our own facts? The people we are talking about really lived. Should we make claims about their misbehaviour without robust evidence? We surely wouldn’t if these were people we actually knew.

When it comes to historical fiction, I understand that license must be taken. History is about recognising different perspectives and understanding motivations in their context. Stories must feature heroes and villains. But where things have to be invented in order to make these narratives flow, authors should be clear about what they have done.

There are a host of reasons why a link between Margaret Beaufort and the death of the Princes in the Tower should be discounted. Here are just six of them.

She didn’t have access

Before we go any further, we have to acknowledge the level of security around the Princes after Richard got his hands on both of them. He had the Princes in a high-security prison within the Tower of London. This claim is relatively uncontroversial. We can be clear on it without relying on the Tudor sources which many find so sinister.

Mancini, the Italian writer visiting London, tells us that “all the attendants who had waited upon the King [Edward V] were debarred access to him. He and his brother were withdrawn into the inner departments of the Tower proper, and day by day began to be seen more rarely behind the bars and windows, till at length they ceased to appear altogether.”

The Croyland Chronicle recounts that the Princes were put in the custody of “certain persons appointed to that purpose.” They would have been men Richard trusted greatly.

Assuming that the boys died in 1483, how would Margaret or an agent acting on her behalf have gained access to them?

2. Her husband didn’t have access

Margaret is often thought to have a co-conspirator in the form of her husband, Thomas, Lord Stanley. Proponents of this theory point out that he was the Constable of England. Surely that position would have helped him get near to the boys, wouldn’t it?

Stanley, however, was not appointed Constable of England until after the Princes were probably dead. And even if they were still alive, there is nothing to suggest that this office would have granted him proximity to them. As we have seen, the boys were not simply roaming around the tower. They had been withdrawn to an inner apartment and guarded by men close to Richard.

Stanley was not part of Richard’s inner circle. While he had been appointed to high office, this reflects that Richard needed to ensure he kept a major regional power broker on side as his reign became fractious. Bestowing such an office did not necessarily convey trust. For example, George Duke of Clarence held the similar office of Lord High Steward during a time that he was at loggerheads with his brother, Edward IV.

Margaret’s husband, Lord Stanley was not a man Richard III highly trusted

3. Margaret had nothing to offer Richard’s guards

No one’s loyalty can be guaranteed. It is sometimes said that, while the Princes were guarded by Richard’s most trusted men, perhaps Margaret could have bribed them. She was, after all, rather wealthy.

I’ve written elsewhere about the wealth of Margaret Beaufort. It was certainly substantial. But it was not enough to make her a major power broker of the realm. And what could she possibly have offered these men which would have been superior to the benefits that service to the king could bring? Besides, these men knew that if they let anything happen to the king’s nephews, under the orders of anyone but Richard, they would answer for it with their heads.

4. Richard never accused Margaret or Stanley of it

In the highly unlikely event that Margaret had gained access to the Princes and had them killed, Richard would have found out about it straight away. Wouldn’t this have been a dream come true for the king? His biggest rivals would have been eliminated. Yet, there wouldn’t have been a trace of blood on his hands. He could pin the blame on Margaret and Stanley.

5. It’s not clear that Margaret even had a motive

Once it was believed the Princes were dead, those loyal to Edward IV searched for a new champion. Margaret’s son, Henry Tudor was the man they eventually turned their attention to – on the condition that he would marry Elizabeth of York, sister of the Princes. But could such an eventuality really have been predicted? People could just have easily turned to the young earl of Warwick, the Duke of Buckingham or anyone who was free to marry Elizabeth.

To believe that Margaret could have masterminded such as set of circumstances credits her with a greater gift of prophecy than is realistic.

Richard III had the boys in a high-security prison

6. After 1485, it wouldn’t have been Margaret giving the orders

Some speculate that when Henry VII arrived in England, he found the boys in the tower and had them done away with. Was it Margaret that was whispering in his ear and persuading him to do so?

It is highly unlikely that the Princes were still alive in 1485. Had they been, surely Richard would have produced them. Doing so would split the coalition of Lancastrian remnants and Yorkist dissidents that had formed against him. However, if they had survived, and their death was ordered by Henry VII, it seems odd to lay the blame for this at Margaret’s door. Henry would have been the one to give the orders.

It is true that Henry trusted the advice of his mother. This may have been particularly the case in the early weeks of his reign as there were few in England he could trust. But to suggests that he was some kind of puppet King that allowed anyone else to pull the strings misunderstands his entire approach to kingship. Besides, even if killing the Princes was Margaret’s idea, it would have been Henry that gave the order.

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Lockdown must-reads #1: The House of Beaufort by Nathen Amin

Posted on April 28, 2020April 28, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

Let’s be honest: lockdown sucks! But it does mean there’s more time for reading. Over the next couple of weeks, I will review 10 books which all Royal History Geeks should add to their reading list.

It’s the book I’d always wanted to write. But I’m glad I didn’t. Charting the choppy course of the Beaufort dynasty over three generations is an ambitious undertaking.

In 1370 they didn’t exist. By the 1400s they were dominant political players. In 1471, they were eliminated. I could never have done their unparalleled story justice. Thankfully, Nathen Amin does.

The book begins by exploring the Beaufort’s shaky origins as the illegitimate children of John of Gaunt, third son of Edward III, and his scandalous mistress, Katherine Swynford. It examines their rise to prominence under Richard II following their parents’ marriage and their own legitimisation.

We then travel through the 1400s. We see how they helped establish and protect the reign of their half-brother Henry IV and the Lancastrian dynasty. We learn about their role at the heart of Henry V’s government.

As the book draws to a close, we see how the family dominated the conflict we now call the ‘Wars of the Roses’. Their devotion to the house of Lancaster never falters – a devotion they pay for with their total elimination of their house in the male line.

The accessible and fluid writing style makes it easy to bounce through the 285-page epic. As we do, we’re again struck by how closely the history of the Beauforts mirrors the history of 15^th century England. At least one of them was at the centre of every major event. They were the authors of victories. They were culpable for failures.

But this book is more than just a run-through of familiar events. Through focused research, intelligent guesswork and a hint of empathy the author explore the human dynamics and dilemmas that our subjects were doubtlessly faced with. John Beaufort’s conflict between his loyalty to Richard II and his devotion to his half-brother Henry IV, is an early example.

The author is bold in his attempt to rescue some of the Beauforts from a distorted reputation. He successfully sets Cardinal Beaufort’s decision to put Joan of Arc to death in its proper political context. He questions the oft-quoted notion that the younger John Beaufort died at his own hand.

Some of the Beauforts are well known to history. You simply can’t discuss Lancastrian kingship without discussing the Cardinal. Both Johns are remembered as the immediate ancestors of the Tudors. But this book sheds new light on the other two children to spring from Gaunt and Swynford’s union. Thomas is established as a war hero who became perfectly apt at playing the political game. Joan takes her place as a matriarch of the north.

There’s only one thing I would change about this book. It should be a trilogy. Each generation of the Beauforts deserve a book of their own. But I’m a fanatic. Publishers ultimately make the decision about what will sell. There probably isn’t a market for three books on the dynasty.

The hard-back edition comes with a clean and striking cover. Bearing the Beaufort arms, it looks grand on the bookshelf. There’s also some lovely photography at the book’s centre. The quality of the paper is a little on the low side. But the reader will be instantly absorbed by the page’s content. They’re unlikely to care what it’s printed on.

For too long the Beauforts have been reduced to a footnote in the Tudor’s origin story. In truth, they were the power breakers of Lancastrian kingship and the shapers of a century. It’s time they stepped forward and took their rightful place in the annuls of history. ‘The House of Beaufort’ plays a ground-breaking role in ensuring that they do.

The, House of Beaufort: The Bastard Line that Captured the Crown, is available from Amazon.

However, please consider supporting your local book seller. If you are based in the UK, search for your local book seller at the Book Seller Associations website.

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Could Margaret Beaufort’s parents have been a rare example of a medieval love match?

Posted on April 14, 2020May 6, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

John, duke of Somerset was a ‘Lancastrian prince’ who married beneath him. Was this an act of passion or were more pragmatic considerations in mind?

I’m going to let you into a little secret. At heart I’m a romantic. I think most Royal History Geeks are.

When I’m delving into the tales of England’s history, the personal lives and misadventures of those who shaped it always spark my curiosity. I’m as interested in them as I am the political, military or dynastic significance of their actions.

So as you can imagine, my sense of intrigue goes into overdrive when I think I’ve discovered that rare thing: a genuine medieval love match.

For a time I thought I had found just that in the union of John Beaufort, Duke of Somerset and Margaret Beauchamp. Could it be that the parents of Margaret Beaufort and grandparents of Henry VII had married for love?

Let’s review the facts. John Beaufort moved in the upper reaches of nobility. He considered himself a Lancastrian prince. His status was high and he was in search of a fortune to match. The Earl of Somerset (as he then was) wanted to enter the league of the great landowners of the realm like York and Buckingham. And he also had a staggering ransom to pay off.

Like all the Beauforts, John was proud of his Lancastrian heritage and looking to join the ranks of England’s major landowners

Margaret Beauchamp was no slouch. She was from the top tier of the gentry and a landowner in her own right. But she was no aristocrat or major heiress. Besides, she already had children from a previous marriage. While her lands were not insignificant, they were unlikely to be inherited by a Beaufort descendant.

If money could not be the reason for their match, could the motivation have been more tender?

As I further explored the story of the pair, the tale of love seemed to continue. Ahead of setting off to war, John negotiated that should he die, his wife would retain the wardship of their then-unborn child. He was ensuring that mother and child would not be separated. Surely that can only be interpreted as an act of affection?

It was a wonderful thought. Sadly, it was one not informed by the realities of the time.

To a true Royal History Geek, there’s no such thing as too much research. Every facet of context we can absorb illuminates another piece of the picture we are trying to build. But I would have to concede that when you delve deeper and deeper into the economic and political structures of the day, you must prepare for romantic notions to be shattered.

With children from a previous marriage, Margaret’s modest fortune was unlikely to be inherited by any Beaufort descendent

John and Margaret are a case in point.

Elizabeth Norton was the first writer to set me straight on John and Margaret’s union. Margaret may not have been the sort of wife that a man of Somerset’s stature had dreamt of. But she was probably the best catch available. Having been imprisoned in France for 20 years, most of the prized brides of his generation had already been snapped up. Margaret, with her modest inheritance, could at least contribute something financially while he tightened his belt to pay off his ransom.

But what about Somerset’s negotiation with the King that his wife should keep their child’s wardship? Surely that could still be significant.

Significant it certainly was. But it’s probably not wise to interpreted it as an act of love.

Instead it should be understood as an attempt by the (by then) Duke of Somerset to protect the inheritance of his heir.

Had Somerset died while his child was a minor it would have created a ‘feudal incident’. And these were what 14^th century landowners feared above all else.

As Somerset held land directly from the King, Henry VI would have assumed responsibility for the young child. He would have granted his or her ‘wardship’ to someone currently in his favour. For the duration of the child’s minority, their ‘guardian’ would have taken responsibility for the Beaufort lands – and received all associated revenues. Crucially, whoever held the child’s wardship would control their marriage. He could literally sell it to the highest bidder.

Somerset, like all wealthy landowners, feared his estate falling victim to a ‘feudal incidents’

The child’s guardian could not deprive the heir permanently of their lands. But they could manage the estate in a way that would maximise short term revenue at the expense of responsible stewardship.

They could also try and ‘asset strip’ the estate by granting facets of land out to trust. This might prevent the heir from coming into the fullness of their revenue when they came of age. Such measures could be challenged legally. But it represented a clear risk to the child’s long-term best interests.

In the possible event of his early death, who could Somerset really trust to act in the best interest of his heir? Even his younger brother would have looked jealously upon the Beaufort lands that the offspring had inherited. Quite simply, only his duchess would possess a real interest in careful stewardship of the Somerset estate. Only Margaret could have been trusted to negotiate the best possible marriage for their child. And it is for these more economic and dynastic reasons, that the Duke would have been so keen to ensure that wardship fell to her.

By negotiating for Margaret Beaufort’s mother to hold her wardship, Somerset was protecting the Beaufort lands. When the time came, this arrangement would not be honoured.

Of course, none of this is evidence that the pair weren’t a love match. It could be argued that attempting to secure the wardship for his wife was still an act of consideration, if not affection. It could also be read as a mark of respect. Unlike most women of the day, Margaret had experience as a landowner. She had demonstrated the competence to look after her child’s affairs.

A romantic streak is an asset to anyone exploring the stories of our forebears. It sparks our interest and encourages us to dig a little deeper. However, if our first commitment is to the facts of history, we must always be prepared to revise our romance when our understanding of the era deepens.

The staggering wealth of Margaret Beaufort

Posted on March 22, 2020April 24, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

The young Margaret of Somerset became the greatest heiresses of her era; but her phenomenal wealth made her a pawn to politics.

I’m hardly the first Royal History Geek to be fascinated by Margaret Beaufort. The matriarch’s struggles, hardships and triumphs are the things that epics are made of.

A widowed mother at 13. A fifth column in the final days of the Yorkist regime. Against all the odds, her valiant efforts put her descendants on the throne. They’ve remained there ever since.

But even before the Wars of the Roses broke out, Margaret was a figure of note to contemporaries. Thanks to the early tragedy of her father’s death, the young Margaret inherited the bulk of the Beaufort fortune.

But just how wealthy was the young Margaret of Somerset? Did her wealth place her among the upper reaches of England’s nobility? Had she been a man, would her fortune have made her a major military player in the dynastic wars that dominated her life?

As so often with Margaret Beaufort questions, we must turn to the academic study by Michael K Jones and Malcolm G Underwood. In these pages, the young heiresses’ lands are explored in detail. Thanks largely to the fortune of her late grandmother, who was co-heiress to the earldom of Kent, by 1450 it was clear that Margaret wielded a fortune of approximately £1000 a year.

On its own, this doesn’t tell us much. Such a figure would be no great income today. How far did a grand go in the 1450s?

WATCH: my video discussing the wealth of Margaret Beaufort

To get some sense of an answer we must wind the clock back to seven years before Margaret’s birth. Ahead of a new tax to fund the war with France, all landowners were assessed and their annual income calculated. The findings have come down to us.

If Margaret were alive in 1436 and in possession of her fortune, she would have ranked among the top 20 landowners. Given that there were about 60 titled families at any one time, this placed Margaret in the upper-third of noble society. Those with lands to the value of £25 a year were deemed wealthy enough to tax. Margaret’s income was 40 times that sum.

However, we need to be very, very careful about this. Seven years is a long time. Income from land was subject to the stewardship of the landlord and, at least to some extent, market forces.

Furthermore, it’s clear from other evidence that the rich then – like the rich today – had gone to some length to disguise the extent of their wealth.

As an indication however, it remains illuminating. Chris Given-Wilson, the great late-medieval historian, estimates that an earl would typically enjoy £1000-1500 a year. This is clearly the category that Margaret was in. Nonetheless, money was not always so logically linked to title. Some earls – such as Devon, Westmoreland and Suffolk – seemed to have less. Some could claim considerably more. There were also a handful of wealthy barons who enjoyed fortunes greater than some earls.

Margaret, however, did not have an income worthy of a major power broker. If we take numbers from the 1436 list, add together the various titles and estates that were consolidated in the late 1430s and 1440s, we get a sense as to who the major players were at the beginning of the Wars of the Roses.

The Duke of Buckingham enjoyed almost £3000 a year, the Duke of York £3500 and the mighty Earl of Warwick £4,400. As stated earlier, these figures should be taken as conservative. Studies on the Duke of Buckingham for example, suggest his income was double this sum – at least in some years.

At the beginning of the Wars of the Roses, the Earl of Warwick was probably the richest noble in the land

Margaret’s wealth was both extraordinary and unremarkable. What made it so significant was her sex. It was unusual – thought not unique, even in her own time – for a woman to be in sole possession of such a staggering sum. And that staggering sum, of course, was up for grabs by a future husband.

Under the common law of primogeniture, women would only inherit a parent’s fortune if they were devoid of a brother. The eldest son would typically inherit the lot. But when there was more than one daughter (and no son) the girls had to share it out equally.

Great landowners hated the idea of daughters inheriting. This was not out of pure misogyny. They loathed the thought of their estates being divvied up among daughters and used to bolster the ambitions of the lesser Lords their girls would marry. As a result, many deployed legal devises – such as entails – to block female inheritance.

For whatever reason, the Beauforts never deployed such a devise. As her father’s sole surviving legitimate child, Margaret’s status as a major heiress was established within the first two years of her life.

Money was important to Margaret. When her son seized the throne, she would be granted plenty more of it. But this early fortune would lead to trauma. Before she was seven years old, she was abandoned to the machinations of the medieval marriage market. Her money, along with her trickle of royal blood, made her a pawn of politics from her earliest years.

Thank goodness that the matriarch of the Tudors was a born survivor.

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Friends, rivals, enemies? The relationship between Margaret Beaufort and Elizabeth Woodville

Posted on May 14, 2017April 24, 2020 By Gareth - Editor

With the ‘White Princess’ currently broadcasting in America it’s important to take a more balanced look at the relationship between the so called ‘Red Queen’ and ‘White Queen.’

Being UK based I haven’t actually seen the ‘White Princess’ so I’m basing any comments on the book and what American friends have reported.

Sorry about the length and quality. Am working on my skills!

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Was Margaret Beaufort’s final marriage ever more than a business arrangement?

Posted on April 3, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

This is the last video on Margaret Beaufort’s marriages – but NOT the last video in the Margaret Beaufort min-series.

Let me know what you think…

How did Margaret Beaufort feel about her marriage to Henry Stafford?

Posted on April 3, 2017 By Gareth - Editor

We’re continuing to ask questions about Margaret’s marriages – this time to Henry Stafford.

Is it me, or do I look particularly cute in this vid 😉