Fifteenth century England was dominated by what we now term the wars of the roses, but for the vast majority daily life continued as usual. While the peasantry fought the twin perils of pestilence and penury, the nobility battled for the English crown.
The constant fluctuation between York and Lancaster unbalanced the upper classes, and monarchy and allegiance became fluid. The fall of one’s preferred king could mean loss of status, financial ruin and even death. One had to tread very cautiously; a careless word or a smile in the wrong quarter could spell the end of prosperity, the loss of property, or the stripping of a title. The wisest kept their heads down and hoped the ‘right’ monarch would come out on top but for most, this was not an option. Margaret Beaufort was given no choices and as a result learned to think before speaking, to consider the consequences of her actions before carrying them out and to place her trust cautiously.
Even for the era she was born into, Margaret’s upbringing was remarkable. During her infancy, her father, John Beaufort, Earl and later Duke, of Somerset, took his own life while awaiting the pleasure of the increasingly unstable / inefficient King Henry VI. Margaret became the ward of one of the most powerful men of his day, William de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk (later Marquis and Duke) but she was allowed to remain in the home of her mother, Margaret Beauchamp, at least for the first decade of her life. She was just eight years old when Suffolk, taking advantage of Margaret’s wealth and status, married her to his young son, John, but since neither had yet reached their teens, the marriage remained unconsummated. Suffolk’s subsequent disgrace and ignoble death saw the marriage hastily annulled and Margaret’s future was placed in the hands of the king, Henry VI.
Margaret’s early years were spent learning the graces required of an heiress of high status. We know she was well educated, more than one historian noting that her French was ‘first rate’ but it is unlikely she would have completely mastered many of the required skills by the time of her second marriage at approximately eleven years of age. It is my feeling that her education continued long after she left the schoolroom at Bletsoe. Margaret set great store on knowledge and in later life endowed many places of learning. After she was married to the half-brother of the king, Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond she accompanied him to a wild and unstable Wales. She would have needed to learn hard and fast, with lessons in politics and survival taking precedence over languages.
Even in the early days of the conflict, war had a direct effect on Margaret. The homes she shared with Edmund at Caldicot and Lamphey were strongholds. The castles would have rung with the boots of soldiers, the coming and going of messengers, and her husband was constantly away fighting for the king. She was widowed just one year later when Edmund Tudor died at Carmarthen in 1456 in the act of defending Henry’s holdings in Wales. He left Margaret six months pregnant and vulnerable. She quickly turned for protection to her brother in law, Jasper Tudor, who housed her for the duration of her pregnancy at Pembroke Castle where she gave birth to a son, Henry Tudor. Shortly after his birth, keen to avoid another arranged marriage, she took matters into her own hands and with Jasper’s aid, arranged a betrothal to Henry Stafford, the younger son of the Duke of Buckingham.
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Margaret Beaufort portrait by Meynart Weywyck. National Portrait Gallery. Public domain. Wikimedia Commons. |
After the accession of Edward IV, despite Stafford’s change of allegiance from Lancaster to York, the marriage appears to have been successful. We can only surmise how comfortable Margaret was with her husband’s shift in loyalty, but her blood and heart lay with Lancaster, and this tolerance is perhaps the earliest evidence of Margaret’s fortitude.
She and Henry Stafford lived largely at Woking, making improvements to their properties and striving for acceptance at Edward’s court. At first, Margaret was not invited into the royal circle but eventually, as Stafford proved his loyalty, she was invited to join Elizabeth Woodville’s household. Calm seems to have settled on Margaret around this time, the only fly in her ointment being the exile of her son, Henry, who had fled overseas with his uncle Jasper when Edward took the throne. Margaret never ceased to petition for Henry’s return but was continually denied. In the unrest that surrounded the defection of the Earl of Warwick to Lancaster, the Staffords continued, at least outwardly, to support York. It was while fighting for Edward IV at Barnet in 1471 that Henry Stafford sustained wounds, dying a short time afterwards.
By 1472 Margaret had married again, this time to the powerful northern magnate, Thomas Stanley. Largely due to her husband’s relationship with King Edward, Margaret remained on good terms with the king and queen. She was on the verge of securing the return of her son’s rights and properties when Edward IV died unexpectedly at Easter in 1483.
During the period of unrest that followed, the juvenile King Edward V’s throne was denied him and the crown instead placed on the head of his uncle, Richard of Gloucester. There is no evidence that Margaret made any objection to this but perhaps her silence is further evidence of her endurance.
Stanley swore allegiance to King Richard while Margaret displayed loyalty, enjoying the honour of bearing Anne Neville’s train at the coronation. To all intents and purposes, Margaret had reconciled herself to Gloucester’s rule, it is only in hindsight we realise she was perhaps not as content as she seemed.
Despite her apparent acceptance, the denouncement of Edward’s heirs and Gloucester’s accession to the throne rekindled Margaret’s political ambition, and shortly after the first reports of the disappearance of the princes in the tower, she began to conspire with the dowager queen against King Richard.
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Lady Margaret Beaufort. Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford. Public domain. Wikimedia Commons. |
Treason is an ugly word and to move against an anointed monarch is always a perilous act. Margaret was all too aware of the consequences of her actions if they were discovered but something, be it blind ambition or moral outrage, drove her on. She played a major part in Buckingham’s rebellion and when her role in it was discovered Richard III’s leniency probably surprised Margaret as much as everyone else.
A man caught red-handed at the same crime would have faced a traitor’s death but the king showed unprecedented clemency and placed Margaret under house arrest in the charge of her husband, Thomas Stanley. Margaret, never one to be daunted, continued her intrigue from within her plush prison. She worked determinedly against Richard’s regime, but this time her goal had shifted. Now she worked not just to bring her son home but to crown him King of England.
Life in the time of Margaret Beaufort was both unstable and dangerous. Her role in the events during the years 1483-5 would be less remarkable had she been ignorant of the possible consequences but Margaret Beaufort was raised amid bloodshed. She knew the price of treason. Before she was born her father died as a direct result of failing his king, and during the war that followed she lost husbands, uncles, cousins and friends, as well as suffering separation from her only son during his fourteen years of exile.
Margaret was indefatigable in her efforts, she negotiated her unstable world as assuredly as if she were playing a game of chess. Utilising her considerable acumen, she rose from a relatively insignificant position in the House of Lancaster to becoming, not just the most powerful woman in England, but the ultimate victor of the wars of the roses.
A short excerpt from The Beaufort Bride. Freshly widowed, the pregnant fourteen-year-old Margaret prepares to write to her mother.
She gave no thought to what I might encounter once I left her household and she sent me into the world unschooled in the nature of marriage. Only by chance was Edmund a worthy man, a young man with enough kindness in his heart to treat the child he married well. He was a good husband, but that good fortune owed no thanks to my mother.
My outraged pen rushes across the page in a scrawl of misery. Afterwards, when I read the words I have written, I realise my own bitterness and do not send it after all. But the exercise does me some good, as if the act of scratching my broken hopes and dreams onto a piece of parchment and sealing it with self-pitying tears provides a kind of healing. I have no idea how or why the act of writing it down is so soothing, but although I am still broken and afraid, having purged my mind, I am able to function again. With a little more courage than I had before, I agree that plans should be laid in place for my coming confinement.