A FATEFUL YEAR
The magnificent banquet at Brookwood considerably strengthened Margaret and Sir Henry Stafford’s standing with the king. In settled times, entertaining an English monarch would have reaped a handsome dividend of royal patronage. But the Yorkist regime was close to fracture, with Edward IV’s authority under increasing threat. In the summer of 1469 the realm of England underwent a new period of political upheaval, one that would test the qualities of Lady Margaret to the utmost.
In the early 1460s the new Yorkist dynasty had successfully defeated its Lancastrian rivals. But now it was divided among itself, and by July 1469 the king had lost the allegiance of his chief aristocratic supporter Richard Neville Earl of Warwick, who began plotting with Edward’s younger brother George Duke of Clarence. Warwick’s resentment had been festering for some time, but Edward IV was slow to respond to the danger, and when he did so he completely underestimated the peril he faced. Warwick cleverly orchestrated a major rising in the north of England, led by one of his own retainers, Sir William Conyers – acting under the assumed name of Robin of Redesdale – and the king advanced north with insufficient troops to put it down. The Yorkist king had been outmanoeuvred, and was caught unprepared at Nottingham Castle between the rebels in the north and the forces of Warwick and Clarence moving up from the south. In desperation, Edward appealed to William Lord Herbert – newly promoted to the earldom of Pembroke after his successful reduction of Harlech Castle – to come to his assistance. Once more Herbert left Raglan Castle with a formidable array of Welshmen, and once more young Henry Tudor accompanied him. But Herbert – hitherto always victorious against Edward’s Lancastrian opponents – was now marching towards disaster.
On the evening of 25 July William Lord Herbert’s soldiers made contact with the rebels under Sir William Conyers at Edgecote, six miles north-east of Banbury. But that night Herbert quarrelled with his fellow aristocratic commander Humphrey Stafford Earl of Devon, who withdrew with his force of archers, leaving the royal army split in two. Realising this, Conyers attacked Herbert the following morning. The fighting that followed was confused. Herbert, without his archers, was quickly in difficulties and his battle line was pushed back, but showing considerable bravery he then rallied his men, and was beginning to turn the tables on Conyers when a fresh band of rebels entered the fray, bearing Richard Neville Earl of Warwick’s livery of the bear and ragged staff. Believing that Warwick himself was about to join battle, the royal army broke in panic. Herbert was captured, and led to Northampton, where he was executed the next day.
When the first reports of this disaster reached Margaret and Sir Henry Stafford at Woking, a host of frantic messages was sent out in an attempt to ascertain the whereabouts of Herbert, Henry Tudor and the king himself, now rumoured to be in Neville custody in Warwick Castle. It soon became clear that Herbert had suffered an awful fate. For a brief but heart-rending period Margaret feared that her son had also been killed. But then news reached her that Henry Tudor was safe. He had been led from the battlefield by the Shropshire knight Sir Richard Corbet, and escorted to the residence of Herbert’s brother-in-law Lord Ferrers at Weobley in Herefordshire. But Margaret could never put her initial shock and torment out of her mind, and nearly forty years later, it ran deep enough for her to share it with her confessor John Fisher, who recalled that Henry’s wardship had been granted to those caught up in ‘fierce and terrible warfare’, a clear reference to Edgecote and its aftermath.
The battle was a chaotic affair – but its emotional repercussions were harsh enough, not just for Lady Margaret but also for the twelve-year-old Henry Tudor, who was led away from the field of combat in a state of terror, having seen his guardian – a man of whom he was personally fond – overwhelmed by a band of rebels and hauled off to captivity and certain death. Margaret now rallied, and sent a party of eight trusted servants to Weobley, where they found Henry and Herbert’s widow, Anne Devereux, sheltering under the protection of Lord Ferrers. Handsome rewards were distributed to those caring for Henry Tudor, including one of twenty shillings to his personal attendant, a man named ‘Davy’, and a present was bought for Henry himself, in an effort to cheer him up; but the purchase of bow and arrows – although well intended – was not a happy gift for a young man who had just witnessed his guardian’s army defeated through lack of archers.
The broader political picture was also confused. Warwick and Clarence were unable to rule the kingdom using the captive king as a figurehead, and by the end of September 1469 Edward IV had regained his freedom. Margaret’s concern was to secure the freedom of her son, and although Henry was well cared for by Anne Devereux, in October she began negotiations with Herbert’s widow over the terms of his wardship. On 21 October at the Bell in Fleet Street, bread, mutton, ale and cheese were consumed as the legal councils of Lady Margaret and Anne Devereux met to try and reach an agreement over the matter. Margaret was nothing if not thorough – the records of Chancery and Exchequer were searched, the wording of the original grant was examined in detail and one servant was even dispatched to south Wales in search of further evidence. But the award could not be overturned.
The realm remained troubled, and fresh unrest flared up early in 1470, with a series of uprisings in Lincolnshire. Edward IV marched out of London to deal with the rebels, and Margaret’s husband was summoned to join him, reaching the king at Stamford on the morning of 12 March 1470 with a fighting retinue of thirty men. Not much fighting occurred. Sir Henry Stafford arrived to see one of the plotters, Richard Lord Welles, executed in front of the royal army, after which the rebel force of his son and heir Sir Robert fled in panic, jettisoning their livery tunics, which gave the engagement the derisory nickname of ‘Losecote Field’. Stafford remained with Edward as he marched north into Yorkshire to quell fresh insurrections stirred up by the Nevilles. On this occasion the king was successful, and in April Warwick and Clarence – aware that their support was fragmenting – decided to flee the country, crossing the Channel before Edward could intercept them, and taking shelter in France under the protection of Louis XI.
This period of wildly fluctuating politics continued. The French King Louis brokered a remarkable agreement at Angers between Warwick and Clarence and Margaret of Anjou, in which this prominent Yorkist magnate and Edward IV’s own brother would now support a Lancastrian restoration. In September 1470 Warwick sailed for England with an army and quickly chased a surprised and disorganised Edward out of the country. Edward IV was now forced into political exile in Holland, and a surprised and bewildered Henry VI was freed from the Tower of London and restored to the throne.
Margaret of Anjou and her son Prince Edward were still in France, but Warwick – effectively governing the country in the king’s name – was joined by a number of Lancastrian peers, including Jasper Tudor, and it was Jasper who now secured Henry Tudor’s freedom. It was Sir Richard Corbet who once again escorted Henry Tudor, this time on a journey from Weobley to Hereford, where Jasper met him and brought him to London. And here Margaret and Henry were at last reunited.
Lady Margaret must have been astounded by the sequence of events that brought her son back to her, as if they formed the miraculous workings of providence. One of her first actions on Henry’s return was to arrange for the thirteen-year-old to receive an audience with Henry VI. On 27 October 1470 Henry Tudor was rowed in Stafford’s barge from London to Westminster to meet with the Lancastrian king. Afterwards, young Henry dined with Margaret, Stafford, Jasper Tudor and Henry VI’s chamberlain, Sir Richard Tunstall. This meeting was later invested with much significance, for the Tudor court historian Polydore Vergil – a well-informed source – related how Henry VI made a miraculous prophecy concerning Tudor’s future role in healing the divisions of civil war. John Fisher, in a Cambridge oration delivered before Margaret Beaufort and her son, was even more specific: the Lancastrian king had miraculously foretold Henry VII’s own accession.
Henry VI had of course arranged the marriage b
etween Margaret and Edmund Tudor, and it was natural enough that he should be interested in their sole offspring, the child that had been named after him. In the intervening years the Lancastrian king had suffered two major breakdowns, exile and finally a long period of captivity, and was clearly not in any state to exercise any semblance of power or authority. Yet something evidently happened at this audience, something – a remark or observation made by Henry VI – that led Margaret to believe that her son’s destiny would be entwined with the throne of England, and that she had an important part to play in ensuring this came to pass.
After the audience with the Lancastrian king, Henry Tudor, his mother and her husband Sir Henry Stafford returned to Woking, where they spent several weeks together. The household records only briefly hint at their activities. On 5 November the three paid a visit to Guildford; a few days later they travelled to Maidenhead and Henley. At the end of the month Henry accompanied his uncle Jasper to south Wales. Margaret had every expectation of seeing him again shortly, and after Henry’s departure she began negotiations with George Duke of Clarence, who held the honour of Richmond, to secure a landed settlement for her son. On 27 November a meeting was held with George at Baynard’s Castle in London, and it was agreed that Henry would succeed to the honour on George’s death.
In January 1471 Margaret’s cousins Edmund and John Beaufort returned to England from Burgundy. Their friend and supporter Charles Count of Charolais had succeeded to the dukedom of Burgundy in 1467, and had kept his faith with the Beauforts in the years that followed, even after his marriage to Edward IV’s sister Margaret of York in 1468. Edmund and John were sent away from the Burgundian court at the time of the marriage festivities, but were soon allowed to return, and continued to play an important role in Burgundian political life. In October 1470 Edward IV, his youngest brother Richard Duke of Gloucester, the Lords Hastings, Rivers and Say and some 400 household men had arrived in Holland, and were staying at The Hague, enjoying the hospitality of Louis of Gruthuyse. But Duke Charles was unwilling to support these exiles openly.
On 7 January 1471 Edmund Beaufort had visited the duke at St Pol and urged him to support the restored Lancastrian regime of Henry VI. Edward IV was allowed to put his own case to his brother-in-law and press for Burgundian support to restore him to the throne of England. But in the short term Charles decided in the Lancastrians’ favour, allowing the Beauforts, and other exiled magnates – including Henry Holland Duke of Exeter and John Courtenay Earl of Devon – to return home. Remarkably, the prospects for the Lancastrian regime and its coalition of Yorkist supporters looked bright. Edward IV lacked substantial foreign backing and was not strong enough to mount an invasion without it, and Margaret of Anjou and her son Prince Edward would soon be sailing for England.
In one extraordinary year the political landscape of England had entirely changed. Margaret could now take her place in a Lancastrian court – nominally presided over by Henry VI – among her Beaufort cousins Edmund and John, and her brother-in-law Jasper Tudor, confident of a secure and important future for her son. It was a remarkable turnaround of events, and one that would have been impossible to predict even a few years earlier. Lady Margaret must now have hoped that the wheel of fortune had found its permanent resting place.
REALPOLITIK
The adage a month is a long time in politics holds true for the fifteenth century just as much as the present day. At the end of January 1471 it seemed as if a restored Lancastrian government would once more rule over England. At the end of February the situation was once again completely unclear. It was the meddling of the French King Louis XI that damaged the Lancastrian cause, for the ever-suspicious Louis insisted that Richard Neville Earl of Warwick – who was in effect ruling England in the name of Henry VI – wage war on his arch-rival Charles Duke of Burgundy before he allowed Margaret of Anjou’s fleet to set sail. Warwick’s declaration of war – on 12 February 1471 – forced Charles to provide assistance to Edward IV, at last giving him the ships, men and money to invade England. In March, when Edward’s small army landed in Yorkshire, Margaret’s force still had not embarked.
Warwick was reluctant to confront Edward’s army immediately, and this proved another mistake. The delay allowed the Yorkist king to open negotiations with his brother George Duke of Clarence and win him back to his cause. Edward now seized the military initiative, boldly marching on London, held by Edmund Beaufort Duke of Somerset and John Courtenay Earl of Devon. But these Lancastrian lords were not prepared to remain in the capital, and instead moved towards the West Country, to await the arrival of Margaret of Anjou’s fleet. On 24 March Edmund Beaufort arrived at Woking with a retinue of forty men and stayed with Margaret and Sir Henry Stafford for four days. Edmund Beaufort was heading towards Salisbury, which he intended to use as a recruiting base for a small army. Stafford would not commit himself to joining it. Beaufort was forced to leave Woking on 28 March without any firm assurance of support.
We have reached a pivotal point in our story. As a historian my responsibility is to weave together a narrative based on my knowledge of the source material, the accounts of chroniclers and writers of the time, and the more impersonal documentary records. In the fifteenth century we have relatively few letters, which would reveal what a person wished to communicate to another, and those collections that do exist are mainly for gentry rather than aristocratic families. And we have no diaries, which would show us what a person really thought. So I base my story on the content of the sources, my interpretation of what they may or may not tell us and a broader reading of the personalities and politics of the period.
However, with Margaret Beaufort we also have an unusual and particularly valuable source, the recollections of her confessor and spiritual adviser John Fisher. These allow us a more intimate personal portrait, and also reflect back on key moments in Margaret’s life, which she later shared with Fisher and gave him permission to use after her death. And as I have already mentioned, Fisher saw that Margaret was a deeply emotional person, but that emotion was masked by an icy self-control in matters of state. Here she was skilled, highly effective – with remarkable presence and force of personality – and above all absolutely ruthless.
I believe that Margaret was possessed of remarkable qualities, and learned or drew upon these skills at a relatively young age, then honed them as her political education and experience deepened. In my view of her, which is based on a considerable body of evidence, she never let her emotions cloud her political judgement. She was pragmatic, and concerned more than anything else to protect the interests of her son. The following two paragraphs are on balance what I believe happened. But here – more than anywhere else in the story – an alternative, more speculative reading of evidence and character is possible. So first of all, let me rehearse my preferred reading of events, and then I will once again briefly take the reader behind the scenes.
Margaret and her husband were dismayed by the confident generalship of Edward IV and the defection of George Duke of Clarence. Both knew that if they supported the Lancastrians and Edward emerged victorious the Yorkist king would be an implacable opponent. There would be no more second chances. In the circumstances Margaret temporised. On 2 April a body of Stafford’s household servants travelled from Reading to Newbury for further discussions with Beaufort. Meanwhile Sir Henry Stafford rode off in the opposite direction, towards London. When Edward IV marched south – past Warwick’s force at Coventry – determined to force entry to the capital, Stafford resolved to join his army. Margaret and her husband were now preferring Edward’s chances to those of the Lancastrians, and on 13 April, as Edward prepared to confront Warwick at Barnet, north of London, chain-mail and plated armour was hastily brought to Sir Henry, camping on the field of battle. The following day, in a bloody but confused battle fought in swirling mist, Warwick was defeated and killed. That evening Margaret of Anjou’s forces finally landed in the West Country.
Lady Margaret had preferred cold calculation
to heady emotion, and pragmatism over loyalty to the House of Lancaster. It was a ruthless choice, but her instinct for political survival was acute and her decision was soon vindicated. After his triumph at Barnet, Edward moved swiftly against Margaret of Anjou. He was determined to cut off and defeat her force before she could gain further reinforcement – either in Wales or in the north of England. He trapped her army against the River Severn and on 4 May Margaret of Anjou’s supporters were routed at Tewkesbury. John Beaufort was slain in the fighting. In the battle’s aftermath, Edmund Beaufort and a number of other Lancastrians sought sanctuary in Tewkesbury Abbey. Edward IV granted a free pardon to all those within consecrated ground. It was a promise the Yorkist king had no intention of keeping, and two days later his soldiers broke into the abbey. Edmund Beaufort was hauled out and executed on 6 May.
The key source materials I have drawn upon here are Margaret’s household accounts. These documents are very useful, as they show us the comings and goings at Woking, who visited, and how long they stayed. They also allow us to chart the couple’s political strategy, but this can only be done if we assume that Margaret and Sir Henry Stafford were working in unison, with a shared sense of purpose. Most of the time they were – but these were not ordinary times. In the two paragraphs above I have told the story as if they were in complete agreement about what to do.
But suppose they were not. In this case the documents would only show us the man’s side of events. It was Sir Henry Stafford who was master of the household, Stafford who would have to ride into battle, who would have to fight. The documentary material would record his movements, his decisions. If the political situation lay on a knife edge, Stafford’s instinct would always have been to support Edward IV. Margaret’s motivation was more complex. She had learned to work with Edward, but probably also feared him. And now her Beaufort cousins – at last restored to power and influence within the realm – were appealing for her support.
The Women of the Cousins’ War Page 25
