Previously in the neverending anxiety-inducing young adulthood of Margaret Beaufort: Margaret was married off at age 12, became a widow while pregnant, nearly died giving birth at age 13, and devoted the rest of her life to ensuring her son Henry Tudor would do well for himself. She remarried twice, bobbed back and forth between both sides of the Wars of the Roses, and found herself friendly with the new King, Richard III, and his wife, Anne Neville. But as she’d come to learn, one could never get too comfortable…
Margaret Beaufort had proven herself resilient, capable of changing allegiances as necessary as the Yorks and Lancasters struggled for power. Her ambitions were not just for herself but for her son, Henry. She knew that she had to keep herself safe to protect him; to do that, she had to play a long game. And so it was that Lancastrian Margaret was invited to take on a position as a lady waiting for the new queen, Anne Neville. That’s good! But Richard was suspicious of her and did his best to reduce her power by stripping her of all her titles and estates and transferring her property to her husband. That’s bad! But the thing is, Margaret Beaufort was not a woman you wanted to cross. She’d been married four times by now and had lived through a lot of shit. So what did she do? She turned to her frenemy, dowager Queen Elizabeth Woodville (if you don’t know who that is, wait until next week’s substack for more info; tldr she was descended from mermaids).
It was a “the enemy of my enemy is my ally” situation. Elizabeth, in hiding since her son’s claim to the throne was usurped by her brother-in-law Richard, was keen to boot Richard off the throne. Not only had Richard stolen the throne from Elizabeth’s son, but he had also trapped Elizabeth’s two sons in the Tower of London, and nobody heard from them again. The “Princes in the Tower” are now thought to have been murdered, perhaps by Richard to eliminate them as a threat to his reign. There is another theory that Margaret Beaufort either killed them herself or arranged for them to be killed to remove them as an obstacle to her son becoming the new King.
Some people have very strong feelings about whether or not Richard killed these boys, so I won’t get into that now, but just know that if King Charles III wanted to score some real points with history nerds, he’d allow DNA testing to be done on the skeletons found in the Tower of London.
So anyway, Richard was becoming increasingly unpopular for just the appearance of having killed these boys, which left Margaret and Elizabeth poised to attack. They weren’t trained warriors, so they wouldn’t face off with him in battle; this was a battle of wits and public relations. And some battles, but those two wouldn’t be the ones wielding swords. Their ultimate weapons were their children: Elizabeth’s daughter, Elizabeth of York, was potentially an heir to the throne, and if you cross-referenced the whole messy family tree, so too was Margaret’s son, Henry. So, the women arranged to have their children married to each other, strengthening them both as prospective new monarchs. Additionally, the union of the Yorkist Elizabeth with the Lancastrian Henry would effectively end the decades-long Wars of the Roses.
So. One might think it would complicate things that Margaret’s current husband, Stanley, had fought alongside Richard in battle. But these were times demanding flexibility, and Margaret wasn’t about to let her husband ruin her plans. When Richard summoned Stanley to fight with him again, Margaret’s husband ghosted him. He just never said yes or no and avoided the battle altogether. Richard, reading between the lines, took Stanley’s son hostage to force his former colleague to work with him again. But Stanley held firm, refusing to fight for or against the King. It was a 15th-century staring match that ended when Richard was killed in battle without Stanley by his side. This cleared the way for Margaret’s son to take over, with Elizabeth’s daughter as his wife. But Margaret wasn’t going to make it that easy. She was determined that there should be no misunderstanding that her son was king by divine right.
So, Margaret arranged for Henry to be crowned before he married Elizabeth. This sent out the firm message that Henry himself was King. Elizabeth of York may also be royal, but it wasn’t marriage to her that meant Henry could rule. Her son was named Henry VII, and immediately, he bestowed upon his mother the title of Countess of Richmond and Derby as well as that of Lady Companion of the Order of the Garter. Lady Margaret Beaufort was now officially known as My Lady The King’s Mother, a role that allowed her more power and independence than nearly every other woman in the country — apart from Elizabeth Woodville. While both women wore robes of the same quality and commanded similar amounts of respect, Margaret had to always walk a half-pace behind Elizabeth, who, as Queen Dowager, would always outrank her. However, this was not an issue for too long as Elizabeth continued to scheme to advance her family’s interests and wound up leaving court in 1487, destined for life in a religious order. It would stand to reason that Margaret may have had something to do with her rival’s departure.
With Elizabeth Woodville gone, Margaret Beaufort became the most powerful woman in the royal court. She wielded more power and influence than her daughter-in-law, Elizabeth of York. Margaret was permitted to live in the palace’s traditional Queen’s rooms, forcing the creation of an entirely new set of apartments for Elizabeth of York. Her daughter-in-law mostly remained separate from the continued political scheming that was going on, focusing instead on raising her beloved children — Margaret’s grandchildren: Arthur, Henry, Margaret, and Mary. In 1502, Arthur passed away, leaving the younger Henry as the new heir to the throne.
As the years went on, Margaret became increasingly devoted to religious practice. With her husband’s permission (because the law of the time demanded it, but as though he wasn’t about to agree with her), she took a vow of chastity and went off to live in a religious facility. She and Stanley never divorced and were said to maintain a good friendship. He was known to visit with her regularly. Just so everyone knew she was serious, Margaret renewed her vow of chastity again in 1504. But just five years later, her beloved son passed away.
Margaret, the executor of his will, was responsible for arranging his royal funeral, at which she was honoured above all other women in the royal family. She also oversaw the coronation of her grandson, who became King Henry VIII at age seventeen on June 24th, 1509. Five days later, Margaret herself passed away. Per her request, she was buried alongside her first husband, Edmund Tudor, in Westminster Abbey. An elaborate tomb of black marble with a gilded bronze sculpture of Margaret was commissioned from the artist Pietro Torrigiano.
The poet Erasmus composed the Latin inscription on the tomb, which in translation reads:
Margaret, Countess of Richmond, mother of Henry VII, grandmother of Henry VIII, who donated funds for three monks of this abbey, a grammar school in Wimborne, a preacher in the whole of England, two lecturers in Scripture, one at Oxford, the other at Cambridge, where she also founded two colleges, one dedicated to Christ, and the other to St John, the Evangelist.
As noted in this tribute, much of Margaret’s legacy was in her patronage of the arts, literacy, and education. Due to her numerous contributions to the University of Cambridge, she was honoured posthumously as the Foundress of the College. Oxford University’s first women’s college, Lady Margaret Hall, was also named after her. She lived a relatively long life, considering her era, one that bore witness to the end of the Medieval period and the beginnings of the Renaissance, one in which she saw her family’s reputation rise from illegitimacy to the onset of the Tudor dynasty. Her single-minded focus on protecting and elevating her son helped to end the Wars of the Roses. Through her grandchildren, Margaret is the direct ancestor of every English monarch through to this day.
Next week: so, who was Elizabeth Woodville anyway?
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Vulgar History a la Carte is a companion newsletter to the Vulgar History podcast. This week on the podcast, I’m talking about Northern Canadian Indigenous heroine, Thanadelthur, with Rosalie Tsannie-Burseth.
References:
Uncrowned Queen: The Life of Margaret Beaufort, Mother of the Tudors by Nicola Tallis
Red Roses: Blanche of Gaunt to Margaret Beaufort by Amy Licence
In television terms, I'm Tudored out. That said, I'd watch a series about Margaret Beaufort.
a mermaid !!! ... and Raymond... 😭