Book Review – John Morton: Adversary of Richard III and Power Behind the Tudors by Stuart Bradley

By Nathen Amin

John Morton may not be a name familiar to the casual observer of English history, but few men were as integral in establishing the Tudor Dynasty upon the English throne as this son of Dorset who rose steadily through the church ranks to become an archdeacon, bishop, archbishop, and finally in 1493, a cardinal.

In his introduction to this fascinating project ‘John Morton, Adversary of Richard III, Power Behind the Tudors’, Dr Stuart Bradley declares the subject of his biography to have been ‘a man of immense ability’ whose story deserves to be brought ‘from the obscurity where for too long he has remained hidden’, and by the end of this concise study, it is clear to the ready he has done exactly this.

Morton was born around 1420, and received his first appointment of note when he was made a Rector of Shellingford, Berkshire, in 1453. Within two years, however, this rising churchman’s career was impeded by the outbreak of the Wars of the Roses, and having pledged his support towards the Lancastrian cause, was captured by the Yorkists in 1461. Though he escaped captivity and fled into exile, by 1471 Morton was reconciled to the House of York under Edward IV, and served this king until his death in 1483.

Opposing the rise of Richard III, during whose reign he became an ‘agent provocateur and master spy’, Morton played a ‘major role in coordinating the rebellion and ongoing subversion throughout Richard’s reign and in the machinations that resulted in the accession of Henry VII’. It was thus Morton became the ‘power behind the Tudors’ as described in the book’s subtitle. One of the few men the new king had utter trust in, Morton ‘gritty doggedness’ thereafter, as Archbishop, Cardinal and Chancellor, helped establish the fledgling dynasty, refilling the royal coffers and, with pen and parchment rather than sword and shield, helping fend of repeated challenges to the Tudor ascendancy.

The book is clearly the work of an author who really understands the period he is writing about, with extensive use of source material such as chancery documents, diplomatic correspondence and chronicler accounts, with insightful analysis to bolster his argument – an unusual but appreciated inclusion is the occasional use of tables within the text to support a claim, for example on page 38 which shows a breakdown of the amount of Patent Rolls issued for each month between 1476-1485, allowing the reader to really see for themselves how the conflict of the day affected government business. Rather than just make the point, Bradley invites the reader to see just how he arrived at this deduction.  The level of research is not lacking, either; chapter 6, for example, has 123 instances of endnotes.

It was the opinion of the 17th century antiquarian George Buck that Morton was ‘a stern and haughty man, odious at court and more generally so in the country’, an ‘evil spirit transformed into an angel of light and wearing the habit of religion’; any reader will put Bradley’s work down full informed this caricature of the cardinal was not a fair statement, and does not stand up to scrutiny. As the author himself declares, ‘the arguments of Ricardian apologists are difficult to reconcile with the evidence’, and that particular king exempted, Morton was nothing other than ‘the exponent of faithful loyal service’ to the other kings he served, namely Henry VI, Edward IV and Henry VII.

I am presently unaware of any other biography of Morton, certainly not a modern publication, so Dr Bradley’s book is a welcome addition to 15th century study, bringing, as he intended, this intriguing royal servant out of the shadows. Though only 135 pages (with another 75 as an appendices), it is not long, but covers everything that is known about Morton’s life, using all surviving source material and commendably avoiding the common trap of merely padding out a biography with semi-relevant fluff that may or may not be pertinent to the study at hand. Bradley never loses sight of his subject, and the result is truly a scholarly study with a fresh angle. Morton was ‘a man whose story deserves to be told’, and here, Bradley has made a highly admirable attempt to do so.

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Henry VII and the Merry Tale of his Monkey

By Nathen Amin

We live in a curious age in which the term ‘fake news’ has become part of our everyday language. For those of us interested in studying the past, we have perhaps long been aware of the idea of ‘fake history’. Whereas many incorrect ideas, myths and legends of the past rarely received attention, the rise of the internet, and social media in particular, has unfortunately blown the doors wide open, and many instances of ‘fake history’ are increasingly gaining traction amongst groups of like-minded individuals unwilling to entertain factual-based arguments which contradict their inflexible opinions. These individuals, and they are rife on the periphery of the study of any period of history, may not be able to tell you how or why they stand by a misguided view, but they will ardently hold on to their belief in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

Unsurprisingly, Henry VII is but one subject who has come under fire in recent years due to the rise of social media, with academic study of several centuries of standing casually abandoned, or even ignored, and new ‘facts’ established on little sound basis. There is a degree of irony to this, as it is Henry’s predecessor Richard III whose reputation has suffered from many half-truths in the past. It seems as one legend about Richard is dispelled, another about Henry receives new attention.

I do wish to address two common, animal-related, ‘facts’ however, that I often witness online being raised to cast Henry VII in a negative light. They are the mischievous monkey he supposedly, and the dogs he apparently ordered ruthlessly hanged. What is the evidence that either of these events occurred?

First, the monkey. The story goes that King Henry had a pet monkey that he couldn’t control, and one day the infuriated monarch discovered the monkey had ripped his beloved accounts to shreds. Now, such an incident occurring isn’t completely unfathomable, for monkeys were known to be present in the later Tudor court. Due to their rarity, owning a monkey was considered a high-status symbol, and one prominent Tudor personality who probably owned one was Katherine of Aragon, who was painted with one in the 1520s. In the famous painting of Henry VIII family painted around 1545, the king’s fool, probably Will Somers, is shown in the background with a monkey perched on his shoulder. According to an early twentieth century account of the history of Magdalen College, Oxford, meanwhile, Henry VII’s own son Prince Arthur was supposedly shown some marmosets whilst vising the college’s lodgings, which greatly amused the child. The source for this, however, is not given, which is not necessarily to deny it happened, of course.

And yet, there is no known contemporary reference to Henry VII owning a monkey, much less keeping one in close proximity as a pet. Needless to say, there are consequently no known records of a monkey running riot in the king’s chamber and tearing up his work. Vergil, Andre, Hall, Fabyan or any other early Tudor chronicler fail to make mention of the king’s pet. So, where does this story stem from?

The answer appears to be the pen of Francis Bacon and his seminal work The History of the Reign of King Henry VII, an autobiographical account completed in 1622, almost 113 years after the death of its subject. Francis Bacon was a lawyer, ambassador, philosopher and member of parliament during the reign of Elizabeth I, who rose high in favour during her successor James I’s reign, becoming Lord Keeper in 1617 and Lord Chancellor in 1618. In 1621 Bacon was made Viscount St Albans, although he fell out of favour that year when accused of bribery. He was fined, imprisoned and banished from London, at which point he focused on his writing during his enforced absence from court. Between June and October 1621, using only the sources available to him from his own library, Bacon composed The Reign of Henry VII, which he hoped would return him to royal favour.

Bacon’s work is a masterpiece, arguably the first genuine attempt at an autobiography where the author has attempted to analyse the motivations and character of his subject. His Reign of Henry VII isn’t merely a list of dates and events, but a wider discussion of why Henry acted as he did, looking at what precisely drove his decisions. Despite being one of the first of its kind, however, Bacon’s work is not perfect, and is similar in respect to work produced in the modern day – some of the author’s deductions appear wide of the mark, or merely the opinion of but one man. Some are embellished, without source. It’s narrative history, which if written in 2018 rather than 1622, would be read with a sceptical eye. One such topic is the aforementioned monkey tale. Bacon states that the king kept a journal of his innermost thoughts, going on to say:

“There is to this day a merry tale; that his monkey, set on as it was thought by one of his chamber, tore his principal notebook all to pieces, when by chance it lay forth; whereat the court, which liked not those pensive accounts, was almost tickled with sport”.

With no extant mention of this in the intervening century, one must wonder if this wasn’t just a tale conjured up in the creative mind of Bacon. And yet, the merry tale does indeed persist, used on social media as a proverbial stick to beat the pensive, brooding Henry VII with – the secretive despot hunched over his journal. Bacon is no more a primary source than you or I, and until a more credible contemporary source comes to light, the account must be viewed with suspicion.

What about the king’s apparent penchant for hanging dogs, to prove a point about loyalty? To the modern, animal-loving reader, raised to love dogs, what an horrific crime it would be slay dogs in such a ruthless manner. The claim goes that Henry, often beset by worries of treachery amongst his wayward nobility, wished to make a point about enforcing the natural order of society, and thus arranged for some dogs to combat one of his lions. When the dogs overwhelmed and killed the lion, against the king’s expectations, Henry was infuriated that the ‘king of beasts’ had been defeated, and duly hanged the dogs as a warning of what happens to traitors. It is a fanciful allegory that could have been straight out of a Shakespeare play, and suffice to say, again there is no known contemporary evidence to suggest such an event took place.

The earliest record I have found of this story is by a clergyman known as a William Harrison, who in 1587 composed a chapter titled ‘Of Our English Dogs and their Qualities’ as part of a revised edition of Ralph Holinshed’s Chronicles of England, Scotland and Ireland. Harrison’s work is likely to have been inspired by Arthur Fleming’s 1576 offering ‘Of English Dogs’, and both are written seven decades after the death of Henry VII. More importantly, their work is intended to proclaim all the positive virtues of English dogs, with Harrison unabashedly noting in his introduction: “There is no country that may (as I take it) compare with ours in number, excellency, and diversity of dogs”.

The ability for an English dog to slay a lion was clearly beneficial to this narrative. In Harrison’s works: “King Henry the Seventh, as the report goeth, commanded all such curs to be hanged, because they durst presume to fight against the lion, who is their king and sovereign”. Now this may very well have been a popular report by the 1580s, but that is not necessarily to say it was true, particularly in light of any earlier reference and Harrison’s penchant for descriptive, perhaps embellished, prose. It should be noted that Shakespeare is believed to have used the Holinshed Chronicle heavily for his own work, much of which has since been criticised for its lack of accuracy.

I hope I have shown with these two examples how easy it is to repeat something one has read repeated through history as fact, when the reality is that such facts have uncertain origins. Of course, such is the genius of the original writers, and our own tendency to accept we have been misled, I doubt this will stop such half-truths from being uttered to further one’s agenda to criticise Henry VII.

Let it be said, however, if anyone does have contemporary evidence of either of the above events taking place, please do share it in the comments section below. Although unlikely to have occurred, both stories are, undoubtedly, fascinating little stories of a period that continues to fascinate.

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Nathen Amin is the author of the first full-length biography of the Beaufort family, ‘the House of Beaufort’, released in 2017 and an Amazon #1 Bestseller for Wars of the Roses. He is currently working on his fourth book, Pretenders to the Tudor Crown, due for release in 2019.

Nathen is also the founder of the Henry Tudor Society and has featured discussing the Tudors on BBC radio and television, as well as in print and online media across the UK. He has a degree in Business and Journalism and now lives in York, where he works as a Technical Writer.

The Tudor Christmas of 1487

By Nathen Amin

Although Christmas traditions in the UK appear set in stone, for example the tree, the songs and the food, it’s very much been an evolving process since the earliest days we started marking the birth of Jesus Christ. The way the Tudors celebrated Christmas, quite literally ‘Christ’s Mass’, was quite different to the way we do today, although the core concepts of family and feasting are still very much visible.

So how did Henry VII mark the Christmas period in 1487, 530 years ago? Thanks to the antiquarian John Leland (1503-1552), who transcribed a collection of manuscripts in his work Collectanea (1533-1536), we do have some insight into how Christmas was celebrated that particular year. The key thing to note is that, unlike today, the Christmas festivities truly began on Christmas Day, and lasted until  6th January (the Feast of Epiphany), hence the Twelve Days of Christmas. The Tudors definitely weren’t preparing for Christmas as early as October as we do today.

1487 had not been an easy year for Henry VII; his crown, even his life, had come under severe threat from hostile forces within and without his kingdom, although the resilient king ultimately succeeded in punishing his enemies’ ‘unrighteous fury’, as Bernard Andre triumphantly put it. Henry had spent the first six month of the year preoccupied with the Lambert Simnel conspiracy, finally defeating his adversaries at the Battle of Stoke Field, before focus shifted to solidifying the Tudor crown through the agency of the November parliament. A key part of securing his position was to order the coronation of his wife Elizabeth of York, ‘for the perfyght love and syncere affeccion that he bare to his queen’.

Rebellions, battles, parliaments and coronations, one imagines Henry VII looked forward to the Christmastide that year, which began in earnest when he departed Westminster around 18 December for Greenwich Palace ‘wher he kepte his Cristemasse ful honorably as ensueth’. The preceding few weeks, from the first Sunday after St Andrew’s Day (27th November), had been spent fasting three days a week, known as Advent, as each person spiritually prepared for Christ’s ‘Second Coming’ on Christmas Day. One imagines that by the end of this period, the court were ready to let loose for Christmas, the one-time of the year the strict protocols in place in Tudor society relaxed somewhat. That said, religious duties were always observed carefully. Leland’s manuscript goes on to recount how:

‘on Cristemasse Even our saide Souveraigne Lorde the King went to the Masse of the Vygill in a riche Gowne of Purple Velvett furred with Sables, nobly accompanyed with dyvers great Estats, as shal be shewde herafter. And in like wise to Evensonge, savyng he had his Officers of Armes by or hym. The Reverend Fader in God the Lorde John Fox did the dyvyne Servyce that Evensong, and on the Morow also’.

Lord John Fox appears to be an erroneous reference to Bishop Richard Foxe, Bishop of Exeter and a churchman who Henry VII had first encountered during his exile in France. Henry had also rewarded Foxe early in his reign by appointing him his first Secretary of State, and also Lord Privy Seal. The following day, which was Christmas Day, the king celebrated with a dinner in the ‘great Chambre nexte the l. Galary’, whilst ‘the Quene and my Lady the Kings Moder’ with their ladies had their meals in the Queen’s Chamber.

Greenwich Palace

What followed were several days of festivities, with musicians, pageants and plays entertaining the court at Greenwich. Although not mentioned in Leland’s Collectanea, 28th December was the Feast of the Holy Innocents, marking King Herod’s decree in the Bible to slaughter all babies born within three days of Christmas, and traditionally this was commemorated with the merriments that included role reversal. A Lord of Misrule was typically selected from the commoners to act as king, overseeing a night of rowdy drunkenness and revelry to the entertainment of the court. Although the custom would eventually be banned under Henry VIII, his father Henry VII was fond of the occasion, and although payments to a Lord of Misrule appear in his household accounts from 1491, there is every possibility such a spectacle took place in some capacity during 1487.

Other activies known to have been enjoyed during this period were playing the harp or lute, and games such as backgammon, chess and cards. There is evidence Henry VII lost money playing cards during his reign, so we know he enjoyed the pursuit, although whether he enjoyed losing his money is another matter. The Croyland Chronicle criticised Richard III for the raucousness of his Christmas court in 1484, but there seems little reason to suggest Henry VII didn’t follow in a similar manner. The Croyland Chronicler was, after all, a churchman, who may have looked unfavourably upon the court letting loose with wild abandon.

The Collectanea is sadly lacking in regards to what food was enjoyed this particular year by the king and his court, but boar’s head garnished with rosemary and bay leaves was a popular fifteenth century dish at Christmastime. As with the rest of the year, however, the season and weather often dictated what was available to eat, and typical winter fare during the middle of December would have included other meats such as beef, pheasant, partridge, venison, goose, duck, and rabbit, along with cheese, bread and a variety of sweetmeats and spiced cakes. One notable dish available was known as frumenty, a pudding made from boiled wheat, cream, mace, nutmeg, barley, eggs and milk often flavoured with almonds, currents and the like.

On New Year’s Day, meanwhile, the traditional day of gift giving in the Tudor court rather than Christmas Day like today, the royal family, their household and much of nobility congregated in Greenwich Palace’s Great Hall. King Henry, ‘being in a riche Gowne, dynede in his Chamber’ before, ‘of his Largesse’, or generosity, he oversaw the gift-giving ceremony, the recipients of whom this year appear to be his Officers of Arms.

According to the Collectanea, the king himself granted gifts to the value of £6, with the queen providing an additional 40 shillings, Lady Margaret Beaufort 20 shillings, and Jasper Tudor, the king’s uncle and duke of Bedford, also providing 40 shillings. Others followed suit in giving monetary gifts of varying amounts, including the Duchess of Bedford, Bishop Foxe, the Earls of Arundel, Oxford, Derby, Devon and Ormond, lords Welles and Strange, and Sir William Stanley. Thereafter, ‘on Newres Day at Nyght ther was a goodly Disgysyng’, whilst it was noted that ‘this Cristmass ther wer many and dyvers Playes’

Christmas Day and New Years’ Day were two of the three big feasts of Tudor Christmastide. The third took place on Twelfth Night, or 5th January, to celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany the following day, which commemorates the adoration of the Magi before the baby Jesus. The evening before, King Henry went to Evensong ‘in his Surcoot outward, with Tabert Sleves, the Cappe of Astate on his Hede, and the Hode aboute his Showlders, in Doctors wise’. For this particular service, the king was the only person robed, with the religious duties handled by his close confidante John Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury.

On the morning of 6th January, Henry rose early for Matins prayers, and this time all his nobility were resplendent in their finest surcoats with hoods, following the crowned king and queen in procession. Margaret Beaufort also bore ‘a riche Coronall’ whilst Jasper Tudor was handed the honour of bearing the Cap of Estate before the king, alongside which walked the earls of Derby and Nottingham, Earl of Derby, with the duke of Suffolk and Giles Daubeney following close by. John de Vere, the Earl of Oxford, meanwhile, was afforded the honour of bearing the king’s train wherever he went. Following thereafter including members of the royal household, including the Garter King of Arms, the King’s Secretary, and the King’s Treasurer, along with many other employees such as Officers of Arms, Heralds, Pursuivants and those of more menial positions such as carvers and cupbearers.

Once Mass was observed by all, King Henry returned to his chamber for a period, possibly to refresh and change clothes, before returning to the Great Hall, where:

‘He was corownede with a riche Corowne of Golde sett with ful many riche precious Stonys, and seated under a merveolous riche Cloth of Astate, having the Archbishop of Canterbury on his right Hande, and the Quene also crowned under a Cloth of Estate hanging sumwhat lower than the Kings, on his lift Hande’.

Waiting on the king during the subsequent feast was the earl of Oxford, whilst the earl of Ormond kneeled between the queen and Lady Margaret, the king’s mother. Sir David Owen, the king’s paternal uncle, acted as the king’s carver throughout the day. After the second course of food was completed, and once the minstrels had finished playing, the Officers of Arms descended from their stage and the Garter ‘gave the King Thankings for his Largesse, and besought the Kings Highnesse to owe Thankings to the Quene for her Largesse’.

Elsewhere in the Great Hall, in the middle was a table which sat the dean and other churchman associated with the King’s Chapel, who after Henry had completed his first course ‘sange a Carall’. On the right-hand side of the hall was another table headed by Jasper Tudor, who was seated alongside Giles Daubeney, the duke of Suffolk, the earls of Arundel, Nottingham and Huntingdon, the king’s half-uncle Viscount Welles, Viscount Lisle, and an array of other barons and knights. On the opposite side of the hall was another table, headed by the queen’s sister Lady Cecily, who was accompanied by the countesses of Oxford and Rivers and many other ladies and gentlewomen.

Another ancient tradition likely to have been observed during this 1487 Christmas was wassailing. The act of wassailing took place during Twelfth Night, and involved the lord offering his guests a drink from a communal wooden cup, typically cider, beer or a warm spiced ale known as lambswool. Just seven years later, the act of wassailing was included in Henry VII’s household ordinances, detailing how:

“and as for the wassell, the Steward and the treasurer shall come forward with their staves in their hands, the King’s swere and the Queen’s next, with their towells about their necks, and noe man beare noe dishes but such as be sworne for the mouthe”.

It was further declared that “when the Steward comethe in at the hall doore with the wassell, he must crie three tymes, wassell, wassell, wassell”. There seems little reason to doubt that this took place during the 1487 Christmas.

Once everyone had eaten, been merry and entertained to their hearts content, the end of the evening brought the Christmastide festivities of 1487 to a cheery close, a Merry Christmas having been had by one and all. The following morning, however, thoughts returned once more to the more tedious aspects of governing the realm, at least until the next holiday of note. Not unlike the modern day, one must imagine!

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Nathen Amin grew up in the heart of Carmarthenshire, West Wales, and has long had an interest in Welsh history, the Wars of the Roses and the early Tudor period. His first book Tudor Wales was released in 2014 and was well-received, followed by a second book called York Pubs in 2016. His third book, the first, full-length biography of the Beaufort family, the House of Beaufort,  was released in the summer of 2017 and quickly became a #1 Amazon Bestseller for Wars of the Roses.

 

10 Facts about the Weapons used in the Battle of Bosworth

By Cassidy Cash

“What, would you have my weapon, little lord?”

Richard III Act III Scene I

The Battle of Bosworth was immortalized for posterity in Act V, Scene 3 of William Shakespeare’s The Life and Death of Richard III. While dramatically depicting a fierce battle that resulted in the start of a historic family dynasty, what the play does not tell you is that the weapons Henry Tudor used to win that classic battle were equally as intense.

When it came to using weapons in battle, Henry Tudor’s army was well equipped with some of the finest swords, longbows, daggers, and fighting implements of the time. Here’s a look at ten facts about the weapons Henry used at the Battle of Bosworth that were just as fierce as his army.

1. Many of the men were armed with small daggers.

Called a “rondel” and used to dispatch soldiers that had been dismounted or in hand to hand combat, we know they used this particular weapon due to triangle shaped wounds in the skulls uncovered by archaeologists.

2. The Longbow was indispensable.

Known to military history as the English longbow, this iconic medieval weapon was usually 6-7 feet in length and enabled a skilled bowman to launch up to 12 arrows per minute. The longbow was the primary, dominant, and most favored military weapon of this period.

3. The halberd is thought to have killed Richard III.

A combination of a spear and a battle axe, contemporary records combined with modern exhumation of Richard’s body, tell us that Richard III was disposed by a team of Welsh soldiers armed with halberds.

4. Excalibur type swords were real.

Perhaps the most iconic of medieval weapons, the sword actually varied greatly in length and the type of blade. War swords were standard military issue for knights before the 1300s, and remained in use through the 16th century.

5. Spears were used to fight of advancing armies on horseback.

An “old standard” of medieval weaponry; the spear had a diamond shaped head and sometimes a crossbar. It could be used to cut or stab, but the butt of the spear could also be buried in the ground at an angle to stop an advancing
cavalry.

6. Those spiked balls you see in movies were real, and used at Bosworth.

Long poles, or strings of chain, with a spiked metal ball at the end were called Maces. Clergymen who fought in the battle used maces because they were forbidden from drawing blood. The maces would break the bones of their victim inside their armor and were more effective against armored knights than swords because of their crushing power.

7. Handguns made one of their first appearances to history during this battle.

The original handguns were very inaccurate and used mostly to frighten people in order to gain the advantage during battle. However, it was during the War of the Roses that develops on the handgun were made allowing it to be safer to use and more accurate. It would go on to replace the longbow over the next hundred years.

8. The Battle Ax was a hand held weapon used by horsemen.

This particular weapon looked like a modern day hammer or nightstick with a short handle and the head of an ax. Horse riders used a leather strap attached to the handle to keep the weapon attached to them while they rode into battle. Richard III is said to have lead his troop into battle carrying his battle-axe.

9. The Arbalest was last used at the Battle of Bosworth.

During the reign of Henry VII’s son, Henry VIII, crossbowmen would rise up to form the vanguard of the army, but during the Battle of Bosworth, these specialized crossbows made of steel and quite large, could shoot with greater strength than their successors.

10. Farm equipment helped against the cavalry.

Soldiers would often use a common farm implement called the billhook during the War of the Roses to pull riders off their horses where they would then be executed by dagger.

It’s truly formidable the battle implements of the medieval period. When we look at Shakespeare’s plays, it provides a great context for his works when we consider how the real environment in which these stories were set was at once so unmerciful and unforgiving a climate. Masters of these great weapons was truly an art.

“Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
Devised at first to keep the strong in awe:
Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.”

Richard III, Act V Scene III, Bosworth Field

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Cassidy Cash is a writer, YouTuber, and educator who believes understanding Shakespeare’s life and times is key to interpreting his plays. She writes about William Shakespeare, creates a weekly “Did Shakespeare” video on her youtube channel, and runs a membership group for Shakespeare enthusiasts from her blog at www.cassidycash.com

Henry VII and the House of York

By Nathen Amin

When the subject of Henry VII is often raised, attention inevitably turns to the allegedly draconian, even tyrannical, way he treated the Yorkist relations of his wife Elizabeth. The accusation goes that once Henry, the great Lancastrian hope, captured the throne from Richard III, he set about vanquishing the remnants of the House of York, securing the victory of the Red Rose.

The reality is, as with most things with the Wars of the Roses, far more complex. The Wars of the Roses cannot, and should not, ever been seen in binary – it was not ever as simple as Red Rose vs White Rose, or Good vs Bad. It has sometimes been referred to in recent years as the Cousins’ War, but even that doesn’t provide enough inside into just how intermarried the key figures in the Wars were. We all know that Warwick the Kingmaker, for example, was not only a cousin to the Yorks, but also the Beauforts against whom he waged such brutal war. But even the lesser nobles were often connected to the men who killed them.

So to return to Henry VII and the House of York. A key thing to consider is that Henry, although portrayed as the ‘Lancastrian’ heir, came to the throne on a tide of Yorkist support. After the death of Edward IV and the ascendancy of Richard III, what comprised the Edwardian Yorkist household effectively splintered. Some stayed loyal to Richard, and those who suspected he had killed the princes of their former master, fled to Brittany and France into the awaiting embrace of the unknown entity Henry Tudor. Their allegiance to the Tudor cause, rather than the Lancastrian cause, had as much to do with their opposition to Richard than their support for Henry. Therefore, at Bosworth and thereafter, the court and household of Henry VII had a distinctive Yorkist air to it. It was by no means a Lancastrian takeover.

With that in mind, from the outset, Henry did not, nor could he, simply vanquish the House of York as an entity, as a living, breathing, movement. He needed the allegiance of the remaining members, whether grudging or not, and more importantly required the assiduous service of their influential, and experienced, servants. Of those surviving children and grandchildren of Duke Richard of York, therefore, it becomes clear that Henry was far from heavy-handed, at least until given cause. Let’s take a look at what became of the House of York during the reign of Henry VII.

Children of Edward IV

We are unsure of the fate of the Princes in the Tower, although I am satisfied to believe they were disappeared in the summer of 1483 as seems the likeliest fate. Elizabeth obviously became queen of England through her marriage to Henry VII, and despite claims to the contrary, was treated well by a devoted husband, with both touchingly consoling one another after the death of Prince Arthur. But what of the other children of Edward IV that survived into Tudor rule? Were they wiped out by a vengeful Henry VII? Well, no.

Cecily of York had been contracted with marriage to Ralph Scrope, a member of Richard III’s northern affinity, but that union was annulled upon Henry’s accession. In 1487, she was married to the king’s half-uncle, John Welles, 1st Viscount Welles, a man of unquestionable loyalty to the king, and an astute choice in rendering any Yorkist-descended children from the union politically irrelevant. Any accusations that Cecily was harshly treated need to be discounted; Henry marrying his sister-in-law to a royal favourite of minor importance was the same tactic Richard had taken, and there is a suggestion Cecily enjoyed a happy marriage. The Viscount’s will in February 1499 makes reference to his ‘dere beloved lady and wife’, who he trusted ‘above all oder’.

Cecily of York remained around the royal court, and participated in the several Tudor royal ceremonies, even carrying Prince Arthur at his christening and then bearing the train of Catherine of Aragon at the prince’s wedding. She only found disfavour with the king when she impetuously married for a third time to an obscure squire named Kyme. This took place without the king’s permission, and Cecily was banished from court for a short time in disgrace, although the compassionate intervention of Lady Margaret Beaufort allowed her to eventually return. She passed away without surviving issue in 1507.

Like Cecily, Anne of York was also betrothed by Richard III to one of his supporters, in this case Thomas Howard, whose father and grandfather fought for Richard at Bosworth. Despite the potential threat of a Yorkist-Howard child eventually making a play for the throne, Henry VII allowed the married to go ahead in 1495. unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for the Tudors when you consider Howard’s later actions in the reign of Henry VIII as 3rd Duke of Norfolk, the couple had no children surviving to adulthood. Like Cecily, Anne was treated as befitted her status as a royal princess, albeit Yorkist. She carried the chrisom at the christening of Prince Arthur and Princess Margaret, and was a regular around court.

Katherine of York was put forward in 1487 as a potential bride to the duke of Ross, a second son of James III of Scotland, by Henry, using her Yorkist blood to try to procure an alliance, although the death of the Scottish king a year later ended discussions. She was later married to William Courtenay, a royal commander and heir of the Earl of Devon, a supporter of Tudor at Bosworth. William proved to be untrustworthy, however, and was attainted in 1504 by Henry VII for joining a conspiracy with Edmund de la Pole, the duke of Suffolk. He would eventually be restored to his estates after the king’s death.

Unlike Cecily or Anne, Katherine did have surviving issue with her husband; Henry Courtenay, possibly named for the king, was born in 1496 and eventually became Marquis of Exeter under Henry VIII. His Yorkist blood would, however, become an issue during the 1530s and he was accused of colluding with his Pole cousins to overthrow his other cousin, Henry VIII. He was beheaded in 1538. Nonetheless, events 30 years after the death of Henry VII hardly make him culpable in the destruction of Exeter. Henry VII may have forseen such issues when marrying a Yorkist princess to a peer of the realm, but he nonetheless didn’t forbid such a union. This seems hardly in keeping with his alleged desire to destroy the House of York. Why not just force her to marry a nobody?

The last legitimate child of Edward IV to survive into the Tudor reign was Bridget of York; she caused Henry far less issues, for Bridget was prepared for a religious life, becoming a nun at Dartford priory. She remained in contact with her royal kinfolk, and survived until 1517, leaving no issue due to her vow to God.

Edward IV was a notoriously promiscuous man, and had at least one acknowledged heir, named Arthur Plantagenet. Presumably protected by his illegitimately, although something which could be overturned with the cooperation of a friendly parliament, Arthur prospered under Tudor rule. By 1501 he was part of his half-sister Queen Elizabeth’s household, and part of Henry VII’s after her demise, suggesting he was trusted enough by the Tudor king to be in his inner circle. Arthur’s rise accelerated in his nephew Henry VIII’s reign, becoming Viscount Lisle and Constable of Calais before finally falling foul of an increasingly tyrannical king in 1540.

Children of George, Duke of Clarence

The children of George, Duke of Clarence, suffered a considerably different fate under the Tudors than their uncle Edward’s offspring, although Clarence’s eldest surviving child, Margaret, shared a similar path to her female cousins during the reign of Henry VII. Having been retrieved from Sheriff Hutton Castle after the king’s accession, where she had been placed by her uncle Richard III, in 1487, Margaret was married to a Welshman named Richard Pole, whose St John mother was a half-sister to Margaret Beaufort, the king’s beloved mother. It seems likely the match was intended to lessen the chances of her being used as a figurehead for a Yorkist rebellion, particularly so soon after one was crushed at Stoke Field that same year, but although Shakespeare’s Henry callously uttered that Clarence’s daughter ‘meanly have I match’d in marriage’, she was nonetheless wed to one of Henry’s closest, and most trusted relations.

Richard Pole was not a wealthy magnate, and certainly not someone who may have anticipated marrying a niece of a king and a daughter of a duke, but he did rise high in his cousin’s court, becoming a Knight of the Garter in 1499 and entrusted with the position of Great Chamberlain of Prince Arthur’s household at Ludlow, receiving significant power in north Wales in the process. Margaret’s prospects dimmed somewhat after the death of the prince in 1502, when her own role as a lady-in-waiting to Catherine of Aragon ended, followed by the demise of her husband in 1504, causing her to seek refuge with the nuns at Syon Abbey. She had five children with Richard, and although she and her sons would become bitterly opposed to the Tudor regime later in the sixteenth century, at the time of Henry VII’s death in 1509, there is little evidence of activity either way during the period in question.

Margaret’s brother Edward, Earl of Warwick, suffered a tragic fate under Henry VII, one which possibly marks the lowest point in the king’s reign from a moral standpoint, although conversely a demise which arguably secured the Tudor dynasty on the throne. Edward was ten years old when Henry won at Bosworth, but the child’s bloodline was unquestionably a threat to the king’s fledgling dynasty. Whilst true that his father Clarence’s attainder in 1478 technically barred Warwick from the crown, a technicality that cleared the way to Richard III to claim the throne in 1483, it was nevertheless very possibly he could become a focus for disaffected Ricardian Yorkists, prompting his imprisonment in the Tower of London. It wasn’t that the boy had done anything wrong himself, but rather that other’s may do wrong on his behalf, as ultimately happened.

It is unlikely Warwick’s imprisonment was a harsh one, and in 1490 he was even confirmed by the king as earl. It is unclear what his long-term prospects were, but Edward’s fate was sealed in 1499 during the negotiations for the king’s son Arthur’s marriage to Katherine of Aragon. It was claimed that a plot was uncovered which implicated the earl in planning to escape the Tower with Perkin Warbeck, and on 21 November 1499, Edward was found guilty by his peers and executed on Tower Hill a week later. It was an extrajudicial murder that left a stain on Henry VII’s reign, an undoubtedly ruthless act but one, unfortunately, which was probably done at the bidding of the Spanish monarchs before they entrust their daughter Katherine into the care of the Tudors. Edward had to die for the Tudors to survive. Perhaps through guilt, Henry paid for Edward’s head and body to be buried at Bisham Abbey.

Children of Richard III

Richard III’s son and heir Edward famously died whilst his father was on the throne, a bitter blow to a monarch struggling to maintain his grip on a crown he had wrested so controversially from his nephew. Richard did leave two illegitimate heirs, however, who are known to have lived in the reign of Henry VII. John of Gloucester was Captain of Calais during his father’s lifetime, but was removed after the Tudor accession, it presumably deemed unwise to have Richard’s son in charge of the largest royal garrison. John wasn’t completely ostracised, as there is evidence he was granted an annuity of £20 by Henry VII in March 1486. After this, however, John, contemptuously known as John of Pontefract, disappears somewhat from records. There is no evidence whatsoever what happened to him, and to suggest he was executed by Henry based on a dubious 17th century reference is an unqualified leap.

John’s half, possibly full, sister Katherine was another illegitimate child of Richard III, who married William Herbert, Earl of Huntingdon, during her father’s reign. She didn’t live long under Tudor rule, however, passing away before the end of 1487 when her husband was referred to as a widower. Neither John nor Katherine had any known children.

Other Yorkist Descendants

Anne of York was a daughter of Richard, duke of York and therefore a sister to king’s Edward IV and Richard III. She was married at a young age to Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter and an implacable Lancastrian who drowned in unclear circumstances in 1475, possibly even murdered on orders of Edward IV. Anne was divorced from Exeter in 1472 and remarried two years later to one of Edward’s followers, Thomas St Leger, later executed by Richard III as one of the Edwardian Yorkists who turned from Richard to support the Buckingham-Tudor conspiracy. Anne died in 1476, but her Yorkist blood endured in the daughter she had with her second husband, Anne St Leger.  The orphaned Anne was around nine years old at the time of the Tudor victory, and eventually married in her teenage years to George Manners, and another close companion of Henry VII and who became Baron de Ros in 1511. The Manners’ had numerous children together, including Thomas Manners, who rose to become 1st Earl of Rutland and a notable favourite of Henry VIII, dying peaceably in 1543. Other St Leger daughters made reasonably prosperous marriages into the English gentry during the sixteenth century, escaping any notable attention from the Tudor regime.

Margaret of York was another daughter of Richard of York, and her life took a different path to her siblings, married abroad in 1468 to the Duke of Burgundy, becoming duchess until her husband’s death in 1477. Although childless, with her stepdaughter becoming her father’s heir, Margaret remained in Burgundy, where she proved to be a thorn in Henry VII’s side until her death in 1503. Margaret’s sister Elizabeth succeeded where her sibling failed, giving birth to several York-blooded heirs with her husband John de la Pole, 2nd Duke of Suffolk. The duke fought for his brother-in-law Richard at Bosworth, but after the Tudor victory, submitted to the new king and became a loyal royal servant until his death in the early 1490s. Unlike the rest of the Yorkist affinity, his children proved difficult for the Tudors. The eldest, John de la Pole, created Earl of Lincoln by Richard III and probably intended to be his uncle’s eventual heir, initially submitted and served as part of Henry VII’s council. Lincoln’s sudden rebellion in 1487 however ended in his death at the Battle of Stoke Field, where it is probable he was using the pretender Lambert Simnel to mask his own attempt to seize the throne.

Lincoln’s position as potential Yorkist heir was assumed by his brother Edmund de la Pole, who eventually inherited his father’s dukedom of Suffolk. Edmund’s head was turned, however, particularly after his demotion to earl in 1493. In 1501, Suffolk fled the kingdom, seeking refuge with the Burgundians, arguably a treasonable act and unquestionably a malicious move. He was forcibly returned to England in 1506 as a result of a new treaty between Burgundy and Henry VII, and remained imprisoned in the Tower of London until the king’s death in 1509. Suffolk would be executed four years later.

Humphrey de la Pole did not follow his brothers, entering the church instead, although William de la Pole, whether willingly or otherwise, found himself dragged into the conspiracies of his brothers. Whilst Edmund escaped abroad, William was deemed untrustworthy and imprisoned in the Tower in 1501. He would remain there for the entirety of Henry VII’s reign, eventually dying, still a captive, in 1539. The youngest de la Pole brother, Richard, also proved troublesome for the Tudors, although still a minor throughout Henry VII’s lifetime. He joined his brother Edmund in exile around 1504, and remained abroad for the remainder of the king’s lifetime, eventually dying fighting for the French in 1525.

Conclusion

As can be clearly determined from the, admittedly simplified, biographical accounts given above, the House of York was not systematically or cruelly destroyed by Henry VII during his 24-year-reign. Of the females, most were married to men close to the Tudor regime, and whilst marriages to comparatively low-born men has been interpreted as an act of callousness, none were slaughtered, killed, imprisoned or ruined. All were taken care of, and some raised families of their own, spreading the York blood through English society.

The de la Poles suffered under Henry VII, yet much of that was self-inflicted. The Duke of Suffolk was welcomed into the king’s circle after Bosworth, and there is every chance his York-blooded sons would have followed suit. Lincoln’s defection in 1487 put paid to that, as did the questionable choices of his brothers. The hand of peace had been extended to them, as Edward IV had done to his enemies in a previous generation, but it was smacked away. That is not Henry VII’s fault.

As mentioned, the execution of Edward, earl of Warwick, is regrettable, although one must acknowledge these were tough times where often the ‘ends justified the means’. That end was the consolidation of the Tudor dynasty on the European stage through a Spanish alliance. It was a small price to pay for such a large reward. Henry VII would not be the first, nor the last, king to approve such a tactic.

So, in conclusion, during the reign of Henry VII – one Yorkist heir was killed, albeit in accordance with the law of the land, and another died during a battle, having rebelled against the crown and denounced a traitor in the process. The rest survived the reign, and whatever happened thereafter, was clearly not Henry VII’s responsibility. Henry Tudor – the butcherer of York? The reality differs considerably from the myth.

________________________________________________________________________________

Nathen Amin grew up in the heart of Carmarthenshire, West Wales, and has long had an interest in Welsh history, the Wars of the Roses and the early Tudor period. His first book Tudor Wales was released in 2014 and was well-received, followed by a second book called York Pubs in 2016. His third book, the first, full-length biography of the Beaufort family, the House of Beaufort,  is scheduled for release in the summer of 2017. He is the founder of the Henry Tudor Society and has featured discussing the Tudors on BBC radio and television, as well as in print and online media across the UK. He has a degree in Business and Journalism and now lives in York, where he works as a Technical Writer.

Henry VII and Catherine of Aragon; “The King and the Pauper Princess”

By Karlie (@ HistoryGal_)

“Though they cannot now see the gentle face of their beloved daughter they may be sure that she has found a second father who will ever watch over her happiness, and never permit her to want anything he can procure her…” [1] — King Henry VII of England, to King Ferdinand II of Aragon and Queen Isabella I of Castile, 28 November 1501.

I

It had been a harrowing few months for the more than one hundred and fifty passengers aboard the Spanish fleet headed to England. Seized by a series of violent storms that nearly capsized them, the weary group of travelers remained in Laredo, Spain for almost a month until the King of England sent one of his best naval captains to guide them across the Bay of Biscay.

On 2 October 1501 the fleet arrived in Plymouth: a picturesque waterfront city on the south coast of Devon. The leading nobleman of the city greeted the Spanish party enthusiastically before they escorted them to the church of St Andrews where they gave thanks for their safe arrival.

Throughout Devon, the townspeople clamored to welcome their distinguished foreign guests. But there was one girl amongst the travelers who courted particular attention. Her name was Catherine of Aragon.

Catherine was the youngest daughter of the two most powerful sovereigns in Europe: Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile. Growing up, Catherine spent a lot of time with her parents during their military crusades. She was even present when Ferdinand and Isabella’s army defeated the Moors in the Granada War.

Catherine learned from her parents how to effectively lead an army into battle; a skill that would come in handy when she led the English in victory against the Scots in 1513.

Thanks to her formidable mother, Catherine and her sisters received a broad education almost equal to that of their brothers. By the time she was fifteen years old, Catherine was fluent in several languages including French and Latin; she was also well versed in matters of religion, philosophy, history, and law.

It was essential for all high-born ladies of the 15th and 16th century to be proficient in domestic pastimes such as needlework, sewing, and cooking. Catherine excelled at them all as well as the more refined purists like dancing, music, and singing.

As a Princess of Spain, these skills were taught to Catherine to prepare her for the important duties of queenship. This was a role in which Catherine had been groomed for since she was three years old. It was at this young age in which she became betrothed to Arthur, Prince of Wales.

The details of their betrothal had been outlined in the 1498 Treaty of Medina del Campo: a formal agreement that united the Kingdoms of England and Spain. As the parents of the bride, it was Ferdinand and Isabella’s responsibility to arrange a dowry for Catherine.

They agreed to settle on a dowry of 200,000 crowns; the first half of which (100,000 crowns) was to be paid to Arthur’s father: Henry VII, upon Catherine’s arrival and the second half was to be paid at a later date.

The fact that Catherine and Arthur barely knew each other was not a concern for their parents nor was it a requirement in arranged royal marriages. Thus when Catherine came to England in 1501 her fiancé was practically a stranger to her.

Before their marriage, the only source of contact either of them had with each other was through letters.

The only surviving letter from their correspondence is one written by Arthur in October 1499. The letter (written in Latin) began with Arthur addressing Catherine as the: “Most illustrious and most excellent lady, my dearest spouse….” He went on to write: I cannot tell you what an earnest desire I feel to see your highness, and how vexatious to me is this procrastination about your coming. I owe eternal thanks to your excellence that you so lovingly correspond to this my so ardent love.” It ended with Arthur wishing for Catherine to be “ever fortunate and happy, and be kept safe and joyful...” [2].

Catherine was anxious to meet the love struck Prince and more anxious to fulfill her role as the Princess of Wales and the future Queen Consort of England…

But just as Catherine was set to depart from Granada to England to marry Arthur, her trip was deliberately postponed for a year.

One of the reasons for Catherine’s delayed departure was because her parents (particularly Isabella) wanted to spend more time with her before she left home forever.

Ferdinand and Isabella were also concerned about the validity of their daughter’s marriage to a Prince who was barely fourteen years old. They addressed their misgivings to King Henry and informed him that they would send Catherine to marry his son only when the latter took his vows as an adult.

Eager to gain an ally with Spain, Henry complied with the Spanish Monarch’s request. Not long after Arthur took his vows, he and Catherine were married by proxy (for a second time) on 22 November 1500.

II

Shortly after Catherine’s arrival in England, she was “… lodged at the mayor’s house in Notte-street…Here she is said to have rested for a fortnight and was then escorted by way of Tavistock, Okehampton, and Crediton, to Exeter, on her way to London, where she was received with great honour and respect….At Exeter, her residence was at the house of the Dean. She rested [there for] several days, then by short journeys [Catherine traveled] to London.” [3].

King Henry was so anxious to see the future Princess of Wales that he traveled from Richmond with Prince Arthur to Hampstead just to meet her. When they arrived at Dogmersfield House, Henry was informed by Pedro de Ayla that Ferdinand and Isabella had requested that neither he nor his son were to see Catherine until the day of the wedding.

The Spanish diplomat’s words were not well received by the King who demanded that Catherine be presented to him at once. He even remarked that he would see her “even if she were in her bed!” [4].

With the help of her ladies, Catherine was made presentable to see the man who would soon become her father in law.

After a quick introduction, Catherine slowly lifted the veil that was concealing her face. The King was relieved to find that his future daughter in law was just as beautiful as the Spanish and English diplomats had reported to him: her fair complexion, blue eyes, and long reddish-blonde hair was the embodiment of English beauty. However, Catherine could barely speak English, and she and the King had to conduct the rest of their meeting entirely in Latin. This did not bother Henry who was impressed by Catherine’s impeccable display of grace and poise.

Henry later wrote to Ferdinand and Isabella that everyone had “much admired [Catherine’s] beauty, as well as her agreeable and dignified manners” [5]. Arthur also wrote to Catherine’s parents, to tell them that he had “‘never felt so much joy’ in his entire life as when he ‘held the sweet face of his bride’ and that ‘no woman in the world could be more agreeable to him.’” [6].

What mattered most to King Henry was not only that Catherine was beautiful and had polite manners but that her dowry filled his coffers and that her marriage to Arthur strengthened the Tudors claim to the throne.

As a descendent of King Edward III’s third son John of Gaunt and his two legitimate daughters, Catherine had a stronger claim to the English throne than the Tudors did.

Henry VII’s ancestral claim to the throne came mainly through that of his mother: Margaret Beaufort. Margaret was the great-granddaughter of John of Gaunt and his mistress Katherine Swynford. John and Katherine were later married, but their offspring were excluded from the line of succession. Henry VII’s father, Edmund Tudor, was the son of a Welsh courtier who married the widow of King Henry V: Catherine of Valois.

In any case, it was a battle, not imperial heredity that empowered the Tudors to take over the throne of England.

The Tudors reign began in 1485 when Henry VII defeated Richard III (the last Plantagenet King of England) at the Battle of Bosworth Field. Not long into his reign, King Henry was confronted by several Yorkist’s rebellions. Most notably was the 1487 Battle of Stoke Field which resulted in a decisive victory for the Tudor’s.

King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella were initially hesitant to have their daughter marry a Prince whose father may not hold on to his position as King for long.

Before they agreed to sanction the match, Ferdinand and Isabella pressured King Henry to execute one of the claimants to the throne: Edward Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick. After wasting away in the Tower of London for fourteen years, Edward was beheaded on Tower Hill on 28 November 1499.

Sadly, Edward’s blood would not be the last spilt on Catherine of Aragon’s behalf…

III

On 12 November 1501, Catherine was escorted from Lambeth Palace into the heart of London, by some of the primer nobleman in England. During the royal parties’ procession from London to Cheapside, they stopped to watch six speculator pageants thrown in the Princess’s honor. Catherine was then taken to the Archbishop of Canterbury’s residence where she would remain for the rest of the evening.

The next day Catherine went to Baynard’s Castle and formally presented to her future mother in law Queen Elizabeth of York. More celebrations followed before Catherine went back to Lambeth Palace to prepare for her wedding day.

On 14th November Catherine and Arthur were married in a lavish ceremony at St Paul’s Cathedral. The stone pillars of the Cathedral were draped with expensive and ornate tapestries, a “platform raised six feet high and draped in red fabric” [7] had been erected on which Catherine and Arthur took their vows, and “a special gallery [was in place] where the King, Henry VII and his Queen, Elizabeth [watched the wedding]” [8].

Trumpets blared, wine flowed through fountains, and the people cheered the Prince and Princess of Wales as they made their way from the Cathedral to Baynard’s Castle for the wedding celebrations.

Midway through the extravagant festivities, the young bride and groom were ushered into a bedchamber to consummate their marriage. After a number of ceremonial tasks were performed – which included the blessing of the marriage bed by the bishops– Catherine and Arthur were left alone….

“Willoughby!” Arthur announced to his steward the following morning. “Bring me a cup of ale, for I have been in the midst of Spain” [9].

It was those very words that would come back to haunt Catherine twenty eight years later, when her honor was questioned as well as her right to be Queen of England. Catherine would swear on her knees at the Legatine Court at Blackfriars, that “I take God to my judge, I was a true maid, without touch of man” [10]. As a devout Catholic, Catherine risked eternal damnation of her soul if she were to lie before God about the validity of her virginity prior to marrying her second husband.

But during Catherine and Arthur’s short lived marriage, the general censuses at the English court was that the couple had consummated their marriage. A contemporary scribe reported: “And thus these worthy persons concluded and consummated the effect and complement of the sacrament of marriage” [11]. However, soon after Arthur’s death Catherine claimed that this statement was untrue. Even Catherine’s duenna Doña Elvira Manuel asserted that her charge was still a virgin.

It’s possible that Arthur’s lewd statement came from the fact that, for whatever reason, he was unable to perform in the marriage bed. It’s important to note that Arthur was not the perpetually sick Prince of legend. As historian Julia Fox points out, “Arthur was no weakling. He had, said, the Marquis of Dorset, a century later, “a good and sanguine complexion; “lusty” was what Charles Brandon had heard said of the prince.” [12]

In December 1502, Arthur and Catherine were sent to live at Ludlow Castle in Shropshire. There was some controversy surrounding King Henry’s decision to have his fifteen year old son and his sixteen year old daughter in law co-habitat at such a young age. Queen Isabella even wrote to him to express her concern for her daughter’s well-being.

Henry addressed Isabella’s qualms by writing to her that he and his councilors “were unwilling to allow the Prince and Princess to be separated at any distance from each other. Thus much we wished to show unto you by this our letter that you may understand our excessive love which we bear towards the most illustrious Lady Catherine, our common daughter, even to the danger of our own son.”  [13].

The decision to send Arthur to Ludlow Castle proved to be one of the worst mistakes Henry VII’s life…

IV

On 2 April 1502 Arthur Tudor died from what was thought to have been consumption (aka tuberculosis). The most likely cause of Arthur’s death was the sweating sickness; a highly contagious and often fatal disease that had spread in the vicinities of Ludlow Castle around the time Arthur and Catherine became ill.

Henry VII was at Greenwich Palace when his confessor informed him of Arthur’s death. One of the King’s heralds wrote: “When his Grace understood these sorrowful and heavy tidings, he sent for the Queen, saying that he and his queen would take the painful sorrows together [14].

Closeted in his royal bedchamber, Henry and Elizabeth wept for the loss of their eldest son. Henry was so unnerved by the tragic news that Elizabeth had to comfort him. “God had left him a fair prince and two princess,” said Elizabeth, referring to their other children Henry, Margaret and Mary. “God is where he was and we are both young enough [to have more children]” [15].

Prince Arthur was laid to rest in Worchester Cathedral on 25 April 1502. It was custom for royalty not to attend funerals, and so Catherine remained at Ludlow Castle until she recovered from the same illness that killed her husband. She was then conveyed to London in a black velvet and cloth litter that had been provided for her by Queen Elizabeth.

For several months Catherine lived under intense scrutiny at Croydon Palace until it was established that she was not pregnant with Arthur’s child.

Their daughter now a widow and childless, Ferdinand and Isabella wanted Catherine returned to Spain as soon as possible. “They also demanded that Henry should put the princess in possession of her widow’s jointure—one-third of the revenues of Wales, Cornwall, and Chester—and repay the first instalment of her dowry – 100,000 gold crowns…” [16].

The last thing King Henry wanted was to grant Catherine her jointure and to give back half of her dowry, and so while he “received their [Ferdinand and Isabella’s] proposal courteously,” [17] he would not openly commit himself to a definite course of action.

This meant that as long as Catherine lived in England her future and her financial situation remained uncertain…

V

On 11 February 1503, Henry VII’s wife, Elizabeth of York, died from a postpartum infection. The child that she bore was not the boy her husband had desired but a girl, who died at only eight days old.

Deprived of her own mother’s affection, Catherine had formed a bond with the kind and affectionate Elizabeth who used to send her gifts and request her company. As Catherine mourned the Queen’s death, so too did King Henry who “privily departed to a solitary place…and would no man should resort upon him” [18].

Two years after the death of his wife, King Henry courted several of the most eligible noblewoman in Europe, including Margaret of Austria and Catherine of Aragon’s cousin Joanna of Naples. At one point, the forty six year old English King suggested that the seventeen year old Princess Catherine should become his next wife. This idea repulsed Ferdinand and Isabella so much that the latter proclaimed that the union was “a thing not to be endured” [19].

Ferdinand and Isabella were, however, still keen on forging an alliance with the Tudor King in order to gain an ally in their war with France. A match was soon agreed upon between Catherine and Henry VII’s eleven year old son Henry, Prince of Wales. They were formally betrothed on 25 June 1503 at the Bishop of Salisbury’s house in Fleet Street. Their marriage was to take place as soon as Prince Henry reached the age of maturity.

Since she was a child growing up in Spain, Catherine believed that it was her destiny to become Queen of England. And with her impending marriage to Prince Henry she was one step closer to achieving her life’s ambition.

But the road to matrimony was not smooth sailing for Catherine. Her chief obstacle was that she was betrothed to her deceased husband’s brother. And according to canon law, it was illegal for a man to marry his brother’s widow.

This law was based on Leviticus 20:21 which states “If a man shall take his brother’s wife, it is an unclean thing: he hath uncovered his brother’s nakedness; they shall be childless.”  

Catherine’s assertion that she was a virgin, if true, meant that in the eyes of the court her marriage to Arthur was null and void. Nonetheless a dispensation from the impediment of affinity was requested from the Pope.

At the request of the ailing Queen of Castile, the first draft of the dispensation was sent to Spain. Isabella was dismayed to find that “the bull clearly stated that her daughter’s previous marriage had been consummated. Catherine, it proclaimed loud and clear was no virgin.” The main issue with this statement was that “a payment of 100,000 scudos to Henry VII hung on the question of Catherine’s virginity, and on this wording the money was his.” Isabella protested the clause which prompted the Pope to amend the dispensation by replacing the word had in “had been consummated” with the word “forsan: ‘perhaps’” [20].

The final version of the papal dispensation enabling Catherine and Prince Henry to marry was ratified in August 1503. Much to King Henry’s annoyance, a copy of the dispensation wasn’t sent to him until a month later.

To cement his new alliance with the Spanish monarchs, Henry VII agreed to financially support Catherine. And for his part, Ferdinand agreed to pay the last installment of his daughter’s dowry. 

In reality, Ferdinand couldn’t afford to pay the rest of the dowry; thus he had no intention of sticking to his end of the deal. Nevertheless, he carried on the marriage negotiations as if he was going to remain true to his word.

VI

Catherine was plunged into deep mourning for the third time in three years when, on 12 November 1504, her mother (Queen Isabella) died. Isabella’s passing had profound consequences for the young Princess, not least of all because her elder sister Juana was now Queen of Castile. “This meant that “Catherine’s worth as a bride fell dramatically. She was no longer the Princess of the Iberian Peninsula, [which made] an alliance with Aragon of limited value” [21].

To make matters worse, a squabble for power ensued as Juana’s domineering husband Philip of Burgundy attempted to seize power away from his wife and from Ferdinand who still claimed a right to administer the kingdom” [22].

As a result of Catherine’s diminished social status, Henry VII became less enthusiastic about contracting his son to marry her. Henry’s misgivings about Catherine and her family strengthened, when “in an attempt to gain accession to the throne of Navarre” [23] Ferdinand married the niece of Louis XII of France.

Shortly after Ferdinand’s marriage to Germaine of Foix, King Henry reduced Catherine’s allowance. Henry began to use the remainder of her dowry to fund his own exploits. This meant that Catherine could barely afford to run her own household…

In November 1505, the impoverished Princess and her attendants were forced to move from Durham House in London to live with the English King in his palaces.

“By December 1505 Catherine’s financial situation was grave. Her father had failed to send her any money, despite repeated requests, and all King Henry had given her was a small pittance for food – she was often reduced to eating yesterday’s fish from the market. She was also in debt to some London merchants for household necessities, and the gowns she had brought from Spain four years before were so shabby that she felt, as she told her father, ‘nearly naked.’” [24].

Just four months after Catherine moved back to court, King Henry made his son renounce his betrothal to her in a private ceremony at Richmond Palace. The terms were “not acted upon”; however, it was done “so that the marriage could thenceforth be cancelled at short notice…” [25].

In 1509, Henry VII discreetly began negotiations for a marriage between his son and several European Princesses, including Catherine’s own niece Eleanor of Austria. But King Henry’s dream of a Tudor alliance with the house of Hapsburg fell apart in 1508.

Henry talked of re-opening marriage negotiations with Ferdinand if only the latter would send over the rest of Catherine’s dowry. But Ferdinand remained vague about when and in what currency the money would be sent to him…

VII

Trapped in a foreign land, surrounded by rapacious courtiers, and in the care of a pitiless father in law, Catherine wrote to her father to complain of her abject existence.

On 22 June 1505, Ferdinand wrote to the Spanish Ambassador, Dr. de Puebla, to advise Catherine “to revere and be very obedient to the King, as is her duty, and as being a means of making him love her more, and of doing more for her”  [26].

Catherine had taken her father’s advice; but since King Henry felt that it was the duty of her father to provide for her, the latter was forced to live on meager rations.

This ungallant behavior by King Henry was in stark contrast to his actions towards Catherine when she was Prince Arthur’s wife. Back then, he had been so anxious to please his homesick daughter in law that he tried to “console her by showing her his extensive library at Richmond,” he even allowed her to “choose jewelry from a selection that he produced for her perusal.” [27]

Catherine’s widowhood wasn’t entirely shrouded in misery. As historian E. Sadlack writes: “Catherine paints her situation as blackly as possible to move Ferdinand to action, and that the English in fact protested [that Catherine’s] complaints were exaggerated, [however] there can be no doubt that these were difficult years for her….”  [28].

During Catherine’s most trying times, she sought solace in her ladies in waiting; none more so than her good friend Maria de Salinas. The English King’s youngest daughter Mary Tudor – too young to be a confidante– was also one of Catherine’s closest companions.

Known for her unwavering piety, Catherine found refuge in her daily religious practices. But her rigorous bouts of fasting for Lent caused many to fear for her health. “In October 1505…Pope Julius II wrote to Prince Henry urging him to restrict the severity of Catherine’s new religious practices lest they damage her health –and (by implication, no doubt) her fertility.” [29]

The Pope and the Prince were right to be concerned over Catherine’s health. In November and December of 1505 Catherine was confined to her bedchamber after falling ill with “severe tertian fevers.” [30]

Catherine was convinced that the person responsible for most of her problems was Dr. de Puebla. Her feelings were that Dr. de Puebla’s interest lay primarily with England and its King, rather than with Spain, Ferdinand, and her wellbeing.

At the insistence of her domineering duenna, Elvira Manuel, Catherine wrote a letter to her father on 2 December 1505 to complain about Dr. de Puebla and about the pitiful circumstances she and her attendants were forced to endure. “…each day my troubles increase,” wrote Catherine, “and all this on account of the doctor Dr. de Puebla, to whom it has not sufficed that from the beginning he transacted a thousand falsities against the service of your highness, but now he has given me new trouble; and because I believe your highness will think I complain without reason, I desire to tell you all that has passed….”  [Dr. de Puebla] negotiated that the king should dismiss all my household, and take away my chamber-equipage, and send to place it in a house of his own, so that I should not in any way be mistress of it.” Catherine also did not fail to include the all-important matter of her dowry: “It appears to me that it would be better if your highness should take them [her jewels] for yourself, and should give to the king of England, my lord, his money.” [31]

Dr. de Puebla was not dismissed from his post, however Elvira Manuel was when the Ambassador became privy of a secret plot spearheaded by Elvira, her brother Juan and Catherine’s brother in law Philip I of Castile. Their plan was to set up a meeting between King Henry, Philip and his wife Juana in the hopes of cementing an alliance that would weaken Ferdinand politically.

“In December 1505, for promoting Philip’s interests at the expense of Ferdinand of Aragon Elvira [and her brother] were told to leave England. She departed on the pretext of visiting a doctor in Flanders about a disease that had already caused her to lose one of her eyes, but she knew that she would not be permitted to return. She had alienated not only King Henry but also Catherine of Aragon. Elvira spent the rest of her life amongst Spanish exiles at the court of Flanders. Catherine was said never to have spoken her name again.” [32]

VIII

After years of not receiving the additional payment of the dowry, King Henry informed Catherine that “he no longer regarded himself and his son bound by the agreement to marry her.” Ferdinand excused the lack of payment on “the trustees…and Philip for not allowing him access to the Castilian funds so that he could send the marriage portion to England.” [33]

In September 1506, Philip I of Castile died from typhoid fever, but rumors at court were that Ferdinand had poisoned him. With Philip out of the way, Ferdinand began to rule Castile in his Juana’s stead.

Once again, Catherine became a valuable asset and “like magic Henry VII became amiable again to his daughter in law. He deplored her illness now, and cordially granted her the change of residence from Eltham to Fulham that she had so long prayed for in vain” [34]. Philip’s passing also served in King Henry’s best interest because it meant that the newly widowed Juana was free to marry…

IX

Henry VII had been enamored with the blue eyed and auburn haired Juana of Castile since their unexpected encounter in January 1506. At the time, the ship transporting Philip and Juana from the Netherlands to Castile was met by turbulent storms that forced them to dock at Weymouth in Dorset. “Seizing his opportunity, Henry lured Philip inlaid and royally entertained him at Windsor Castle and Richmond Palace flattering him with lavish and costly entertainments and showering him with gifts and attention. One result was a trade agreement that was highly favorable to the English merchant guilds” [35].

When Juana was formally presented to the English court an observer recorded that King Henry was waiting to greet her, he then “kissed and embraced her”…and in spite of Phillip’s attempts to keep them apart, Juana made a favorable impression upon [him]” [36].

Shortly after her arrival, Juana was reunited with her sister Catherine for the first time in ten years; sadly, it would be the last time they would ever see each other.

Catherine wrote to Juana in October 1506, that their brief reunion gave her “great pleasure” and that she was saddened by Juana’s “sudden and hasty departure.”  Catherine added that “the great affection [Henry VII] has felt, and still feels, towards your Royal Highness from that time until now, is well known” [37].

There can be no doubt that Henry persuaded Catherine to write this letter to her sister. He had hopes of winning over Juana’s affections and her hand in marriage. Catherine hoped that if Juana agreed to marry King Henry that this would improve her own chances of marrying Prince Henry.

If Juana—who still mourned the death of her husband— were to marry again then the kingdom of Castile would fall predominantly under the control of her husband. Having secured the rule of Castile for himself, Ferdinand had no plans to relinquish control to anyone else.

Although Ferdinand would never let Juana marry Henry VII, it didn’t stop him from dangling the prospect of marriage over him as a means of control. In one of Ferdinand’s responses to Henry’s request to marry Juana, he informed him “that it was ‘not yet known whether Queen Juana be inclined to marry again’” [38].   Ferdinand’s vague response only emboldened Henry in his pursuit for Juana’s hand in marriage.

Eventually, Ferdinand had Dr. de Puebla inform him that Juana was still in mourning for her husband and that her excessive grief made her mentally unfit to marry anyone. Admitting defeat (but refusing to believe she was really insane) King Henry formally withdrew his proposal to marry Juana in June 1508.

In 1507 Ferdinand sent another Spanish Ambassador to England to negotiate Catherine’s marriage to Prince Henry. The man he chose was a politician and military commander named Gutierre Gomez de Fuensalida.

Fuensalida found credence in Catherine’s complaints about Dr. de Puebla. He reported to his master that [Dr. de Puebla] is a servant of the King of England, and although there cannot be two opposites in one man in this individual there are: his heart is English and his tongue is Castilian” [39]. Fuensalida also remarked about Catherine’s health, writing that the she was “so ill and disconsolate’ that he could barely find the words to describe her condition” [40].

Fuensalida worked tirelessly to pacify King Henry’s qualms about not receiving the 100,000 crowns that made up the rest of Catherine’s dowry. But nothing the Ambassador promised satisfied Henry.

Eventually, the King became so frustrated with Fuensalida and the talk over his son’s marriage to Catherine that he refused to meet with the Ambassador.

For several weeks, Fuensalida had to convene with Henry’s equally hostile and combative councilors. When King Henry finally permitted Fuensalida into his presence again their meeting ended disastrously. The King was once again infuriated with the Ambassador, this time for implying that he and his son were still legally bound to honor the marriage contract.

Although he was angry with Fuensalida, King Henry was willing to listen to Catherine of Aragon’s litany of complaints.

In no uncertain terms Catherine “complained bluntly to him [Henry VII] that in the forty days of Lent she had not had access to him [Henry, Prince of Wales.]” [41].

Since Prince Arthur’s death, the King had kept a tight rein on his last surviving son.  Fuensalida reported to his master that Prince Henry was “never permitted to go out of the palace, except for exercise through a private door leading to the park. At these times he is surrounded by those persons especially appointed by the king as his tutors and companions and no one else, on his life, dared approach him. He takes his meals alone and spends most of his day in his room, which has no other entrance than through the king’s bedchamber. He is in complete subjection to his father and grandmother and never opens his mouth in public except to answer a question from one of them.” [42]

Rather than address Catherine’s complaints, “Henry –accompanied by his mother— excused himself on the grounds of illness and raged at Ferdinand’s conduct, lambasting the “poor prince” who did not pay his debts and who had cruelly incarcerated [Juana].[43]

Fuensalida reported to Ferdinand that soon after the King meet with her, “Catherine’s living quarters [were] downgraded and that she was now living over royal stables” [44]. King Henry then announced that he didn’t think the marriage between the Prince and Catherine would ever happen because Ferdinand couldn’t afford to pay the dowry.

King Henry’s bad temper was exasperated by his increasingly bad health. “Shortly before Easter 1507 the king suffered a devastating attack of “quinsy’s” a peritonsillar abscess, and for nearly a week he had been unable to swallow “he was left so feeble he thought he might die.” Henry’s health was briefly restored to him but by “February 1508 he was ill again, suffering from consumption or phthisis, a progressive wasting disease, though his doctors told him it was gout again” [45].

To add to Henry’s list of grievances, Ferdinand’s refusal to support the betrothal of his grandson Charles of Ghent to his daughter Mary had caused a deeper riff to develop between the feuding monarchs.

When Henry summoned Fuensalida to discuss matters further, Fuensalida suggested to him that not only should he forgo the rest of Catherine’s dowry but that he should also call off Mary and Charles’s engagement. Naturally, Henry was upset and insulted at such an idea. After a few choice words directed at the Spanish Ambassador, Henry confronted Catherine in her bedchamber.

“My daughter,” began Henry to Catherine, “I for the great love that I have had for you have given you my two sons, both of them my heirs…and I have turned down other women who were as good as you…” he then stated that “he and his son were free,” from the marriage contract because Ferdinand had “promised [to pay the dowry] within the time that was stipulated” and failed to do so. The King also let Catherine know that he was displeased with her father for “refusing to sign the declaration…confirming the marriage of [Charles and Mary][46]

Henry’s harsh words had the desired effect because on December 1507, he convinced Ferdinand to publically consent to Charles and Mary’s betrothal.

Also in 1507 (before Fuensalida fulfilled his position at the English), “Ferdinand sent [Catherine] the formal credentials to act as his ambassador in England” [47]. Historian Elizabeth Norton writes in her book “The Illustrated Wives of Henry VIII” that Catherine’s position as Ambassador to England (the first woman to ever do so) improved her status at the English court. And although Catherine proved to be efficient in her duties, the fact remained that throughout the years of 1506-1508 she needed a more powerful person to champion her cause…

The person with whom the Princess would become the most reliant on was a Castilian friar by the name of Fray Diego Fernandez.

X

Fray Diego was officially appointed as Catherine’s confessor in April 1507. Before long, the charming yet cunning confessor was advising and controlling the young and impressionable Princess on practically every aspect of her life.

In a letter dated 4 March 1509, Fuensalida informed Ferdinand of a bizarre incident that occurred between Catherine and Fray Diego:

“King Henry had asked the Princess Katherine and Princess Mary to go to Richmond, where he intended to meet them. When the Princess Katherine was ready to start, the friar came into her room, and said to her, “you shall not go today.” The Princess, it is true, had vomited that night but was perfectly well, and the distance she had to travel was at the utmost less than one league. She therefore protested that she was not ill, and did not like to be left behind alone. The friar, however, overruled her objections in a high handed manner by his categorical command, “I tell you that upon pain of mortal sin you shall not go today.” The Princess, not daring to displease him, had no choice left, and underwent the humiliation of telling the Princess Mary…that she was unable to go ” [48].

 It’s important to remember that in this stage of her life, Catherine was naïve, vulnerable and in desperate need of ‘good counsel’. This made her an easy prey for “haughty and licentious” young men like Fray Diego, who were looking to exploit all that court life had to offer.

Catherine vehemently denied the court rumors that she and Fray Diego were lovers. However, she refused to hide her affection for him, she even went so far as to state that he was the: “best confessor that ever woman in my position had, with respect to his life as well as to his holy doctrine and proficiency letters” [49].

In 1515, Fray Diego was found guilty of ‘fornicating’ with several women at court and –despite his pleas—was sent back to Spain. Catherine wrote to her father “begging him to show the friar favor as he “has served her very faithfully all the time he was in England, and much better than certain persons pretend.” [50].

XI

In 1509, Fuensalida was recalled from his post as Spanish Ambassador after failing to convince King Henry to agree to Ferdinand’s demands.

And after spending seven years in England as a bride, widow and a virtual prisoner Catherine had had enough. Her spirits completely shattered, Catherine resigned herself to the notion that she would never marry Prince Henry. She wrote to her father in March 1509, that she wanted to go back home to Spain so that “she could spend the rest of her life serving God.” [51].

          XII

On 21 April 1509, Henry VII died at the age of fifty two from tuberculosis. He was laid to rest the following month alongside his first and only wife Elizabeth of York in the Henry VII Chapel at Westminster Abbey. After ruling England for twenty three years the first Tudor King’s reign was at an end, and the crown passed on to his seventeen year old son Henry.

There is a popular legend that the ailing King made a death bed request for his son to marry Catherine of Aragon. In all likelihood this tale is merely Tudor propaganda; “conceivably, if Henry VII had lived for several more years he and Maximilian (the Holy Roman Emperor) would have arranged the Henry VIII/Eleanor match instead for around 1510-1511.” [52].

One of the reasons why Henry married Catherine was because she was young and beautiful and there was no reason to doubt she wouldn’t prove to be an amiable wife who would provide him with male children. Catherine’s long history with and close proximity to the new King made her a convenient choice for him to choose as his bride. Henry was also anxious to appease Catherine’s powerful father who urged him to marry her.

As for the rest of Catherine’s dowry, Ferdinand never paid it despite promising to Henry VII shortly before the latter’s death that the payment was ready to be sent…

On 11 June 1509 Henry and Catherine were married at Greenwich Palace. Two weeks later they were crowned King and Queen of England in a joint ceremony at Westminster Abbey.

In May 1533 Henry VIII had his marriage to Catherine annulled on the grounds that she was never really his wife because she had been married to his brother.

Catherine spent her final years at Kimbolton Castle attended by a handful of her most trusted ladies and servants. Mary’s plea to see her dying mother was denied by her father, who feared that a meeting between Mary and Catherine would result in the latter’s nephew Charles V the Holy Roman Emperor, declaring war on England.

Meanwhile, Henry was cavorting with one of Catherine’s former ladies: the young and seductive Anne Boleyn. He had destroyed his marriage and broken with the Roman Catholic Church in order to make Anne his Queen.

On 7 January 1536 Catherine of Aragon died at the age of fifty. She was buried on 29th January at Peterborough Cathedral, not as the Queen of England but as the Dowager Princess of Wales.

While the rest of the country mourned the loss of their beloved Spanish Queen, Henry and Anne reveled in it. According to the Spanish Ambassador Eustace Chapyus, shortly after the news broke that Catherine was dead, the King and Queen celebrated by throwing a lavish soiree at court.

Gossip began to spread that Anne Boleyn poisoned Catherine in order to rid herself of her greatest rival. Though no charge was ever brought against Anne, the basis for this heinous accusation rests largely in the results of Catherine’s autopsy. Eustace Chapyus wrote to Charles V that the chandler reported that “he found inside the heart something black and round, which adhered strongly to the concavities” [53]. Today, medical historians believe that the blackness and growth on Catherine’s heart was most likely caused by a cancerous tumor.

Catherine death and Anne’s execution weighed little on Henry’s conscience. Instead, his energy was expended elsewhere, mainly in his pursuit to produce a son to succeed him to the throne. On October 12 1536 Henry VIII’s wish was granted when his third wife Jane Seymour gave birth to Prince Edward.

Jane died twelve days later from puerperal fever, and over the next three years Henry married Anne of Cleves, Katherine Howard, and Katherine Parr. But none of his wives lasted as long or loved him more than Catherine of Aragon did.

On 28 January 1547 Henry VIII died on the anniversary of his father’s birth. He was interred beside his third wife Jane at St. George’s Chapel in Windsor Castle.

XIII

Catherine of Aragon experienced many trials and tribulations in order to become Queen of England, and unfortunately her story ended in tragedy. But was her bad luck predestined?

There is an interesting passage in historian Julia P. Geraldo’s book: “In Triumph’s Wake: Royal Mothers, Tragic Daughters, and the Price They Paid.” Geraldo writes that before Catherine and her attendants reached the city of Coruna, “[they] visited Santiago de Compostela: one of the most important pilgrimage sites in Christendom. Inside the city’s cathedral, Catherine witnessed the famous butafumerio being swung. The rope holding the massive censer filled with incense broke. It was considered an ill omen for the Princess, for the story went that whenever the rope of the butafumerios snapped while the censer was swung, bad luck would follow.” [54].

Shortly after Catherine’s excursion to the Cathedral, she set sail for England to marry Arthur Tudor…

Note: Mary Tudor (daughter of Henry VII) never married Charles of Ghent aka Charles V the Holy Roman Emperor; in 1514 she married King Louis XII of France, and later Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk in 1515. Catherine’s of Aragon sister – known in history as “la Loca” – Juana, was imprisoned in the castle of Tordesillas (with her youngest daughter) by Ferdinand as he continued to rule Castile in her name. Juana never remarried.

References

  1. 37. 49. 53. “Calendar of Letters, Dispatches and State Papers Relating to the Negotiations Between England and Spain Preserved in the Archives at Simancas and Elsewhere” Volume 1. Longban,1862

2. “The Book of the Princes of Wales, Heirs to the Crown of England” Dr. Doran  (John)/ Richard Bentley, 1860

3. “A History of Plymouth” Llewellynn Frederick and William Jewitt

4. “Monarchs, Murders & Mistresses: A Calendar of Royal Days” David Hilliam

5. 9. 14. 39. 42. “Young Henry: The Rise of Henry VIII” Robert Hutchinson

6. “Heirs to the Throne: The Story of the Prince of Wales” Annette Joelson

  1. “Royal Weddings” Emily Brand
  2. “The Virgin Queen: A Personal History of Elizabeth I” Christopher Hibbert

10. 26. 50. “Catherine of Aragon: An Intimate Life of Henry VIII’s True Wife” Amy Licence

11. “Elizabeth of York” A. Okerlund

12. 27. “Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile” Julia Fox

13. https://archive.org/stream/cu31924027958879/cu31924027958879_djvu.txt

15. “Blood Sisters: The Women Behind the Wars of the Roses” Sarah Gristwood

16. 17. “House of Tudor” Alison Plowden

18. “Henry VII” Stanley Bertram Chrimes

19. 26. 48. 51. 54. “In Triumph’s Wake: Royal Mothers, Tragic Daughters, and the Price They Paid for Glory” Julia P Geraldi

20. “Winter King: Henry VII and the Dawn of Tudor England” Thomas Penn

21. “Mary Tudor: England’s First Queen” Anna Whitelock

22. “A New History of England from the Earliest Accounts of Britain to the Ratification of the Peace of Versailles, 1763” Thomas Mortimer

23. “Henry VII: The Maligned Tudor King” Terry Breverton

24. 30. “The Six Wives of Henry VIII” Alison Weir

25. 52. “The Tudors” Timothy Venning

28. “The French Queen’s Letters: Mary Tudor Brandon and the Politics of Marriage in Sixteenth-Century Europe” E. Sadlack

29. 39. 40. 41. 43. 46. “Catherine of Aragon” Patrick Williams

31. Hanson, Marilee. “Letter of Katharine of Aragon to her father, King Ferdinand II of Aragon  2 December 1505″ <a href=”http://englishhistory.net/tudor/letter-of-katharine-of-aragon-to-her-father-king-ferdinand-ii-of-aragon/”>http://englishhistory.net/tudor/letter-of-katharine-of-aragon-to-her-father-king-ferdinand-ii-of-aragon/</a&gt;, February 24, 2015

32. http://www.kateemersonhistoricals.com/TudorWomenM.htm

34. “The Wives of Henry the Eighth and the Parts They Played in History” Martin Andrew and Sharp Hume

  1. “The Tudors: A Very Short Introduction” John Guy

36. “Lives of the Queens of England from the Norman Conquest” Agnes Strickland and Elizabeth Strickland

38. “The Reign of Henry VII from Contemporary Sources” Albert Fredrick Pollard

44. “Margaret Pole Countess of Salisbury 1473-1541: Loyalty, Lineage and Leadership” Hazel Pierce

45. “The Royal Doctors, 1485-1714: Medical Personnel at the Tudor and Stuart Courts” Elizabeth Lane Furdel

47. “The Illustrated Six Wives of Henry VIII” Elizabeth Norton

48. “Calendar of State Papers, Spain: Supplement To Volumes 1 and 2, Queen Katherine; Intended Marriage of King Henry VII To Queen Juana” ed. G A Bergenroth (London, 1868)

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Karlie is a college student from the U.S. who has many interests, including reading, writing, drawing and painting. Her passion, however, is history. She loves to read about every period in history, but is most interested in the Tudor period. She is intrigued not only by the Tudor dynasty, but also by the world in which they lived; the people, the religion, the politics, the conflicts, the events, the castles, the beautiful clothes and just their overall way of life.

You can follow Karlie on twitter @HistoryGal_

 

 

Catherine of Aragon’s First Meeting with the Tudors

The following is an exclusive extract from Catherine of Aragon, An Intimate Life of Henry VIII’s True Wife by Amy Licence, available now by Amberley Publishing.

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By Amy Licence

The man that Catherine met on the evening of November 6, 1501, was approaching forty-five and had been on the English throne for sixteen years. He was described extensively by the Italian Humanist Polydore Vergil, who first came to England in 1502, just short months after Catherine’s arrival, and was welcomed at court, with ample opportunity to observe the King at this time in his life. Henry was above average height, with a slender but strong, well-built body. Vergil judged him to be “remarkably attractive” in appearance “and his face was cheerful, especially when speaking,” his eyes were “small and blue,” his complexion sallow and, by this age, his hair was grey, turning white, and his teeth “few, poor and blackish.” Two years earlier, his clothing had been described by Trevisa, another foreign visitor, who was impressed that “his Majesty wore a violet-coloured gown, lined with cloth of gold, and a collar of many jewels, and on his cap was a large diamond and a most beautiful pearl.”

Vergil also commented at length on Henry’s character, finding his “spirit distinguished, wise and prudent, his mind was brave and resolute and never, even at moments of the greatest danger, deserted him.” He had a good memory and was shrewd and prudent, so that “no one dared to get the better of him through deceit or guile” and knew well how to maintain his royal majesty “in every time and place.” No doubt he made Catherine fell welcome, as Vergil claimed him to be “attentive to his visitors an easy of access,” adding that “his hospitality was splendidly generous (and) he was fond of having foreigners at his court and he freely conferred favours on them.” Vergil was also critical of Henry’s harsh judgement of transgressors and his avarice, but these would only become relevant to Catherine in the coming years.

Henry was delighted with what he saw, although communication proved a little difficult. He hurried away to bring Arthur to her side and, finally, after years of correspondence, planning and anticipation, the young pair stood face to face. It was not how Catherine had imagined it, thinking she would first see her husband at the altar, dressed in her wedding finery, lifting her veil when the vows had been exchanged. Into the room came a boy who did not look unlike his father, with a long, thin face and dark eyes, sensitive mouth and fashionably cut dark hair, if his portrait of around 1499 is to be believed. In that, he poses with a white rose between his fingers, dressed in a gown of cloth of gold lined with fur, over a red doublet with gold edging, a jewelled pendant of black stones set in gold and a black hat and jewel, from which hang three pearls. Painted in oil with gold leaf on a wooden panel, it is the only surviving portrait painted during the boy’s lifetime, the closest impression of what Catherine saw at Dogmersfield.

An altarpiece depicting Henry’s family which was painted a couple of years after Arthur’s death, shows a youth with a somewhat generic face, the copy of his father’s long dark hair and eyes, wide mouth and strong nose. Other contemporary images, in a Guild Book of Ordinances and at prayer in a window at Great Malvern Priory, are similarly general and lacking in personal detail, even touched up in later years. A final image of Arthur from the 1520s depicts a more mature face, with strong nose and small mouth, the sitter wearing a gold chain of office and a red hat with a pilgrim badge, his empty right hand open before him, where the previous portrait had held a flower.

From these three images, it seems likely that the fifteen-year-old Arthur was dark in colouring, with a longish, slender face and nose, thin lips and a sensitive expression; a young king-in-waiting, wearing his learning and legacy as visibly as the marks of his status. There are definite facial similarities with a 1509 portrait of Arthur’s younger brother Henry, the future Henry VIII, about the eyes and mouth, with the boys having the same blunt, straight-cut bobbed dark hair under a black hat of Arthur’s 1499 portrait and the red gown with brown fur shown in the 1520 work. One key difference is the flower held between Henry’s fingers, which is red rather than white, emphasising his Lancastrian roots. There is no evidence to suggest that Arthur was in anything other than good health, or that his health during childhood had been poor: he was a tall, slender boy who elicited nothing but compliments from his contemporaries.

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Amy Licence is an historian of women’s lives in the medieval and early modern period, from Queens to commoners. Her particular interest lies in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth century, in gender relations, Queenship and identity, rites of passage, pilgrimage, female orthodoxy and rebellion, superstition, magic, fertility and childbirth. She is also interested in Modernism, specifically Woolf and the Bloomsbury Group, Picasso and Post-Impressionism.

Amy has written for The Guardian, The TLS, The New Statesman, BBC History, The English Review, The Huffington Post, The London Magazine and other places. She has been interviewed regularly for BBC radio, including Woman’s Hour, and made her TV debut in “The Real White Queen and her Rivals” documentary, for BBC2, in 2013. She also writes literary fiction and has been shortlisted twice for the Asham Award.

Her website can be found at amylicence.weebly.com and her new book can be found at the following Amazon link;

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Catherine-Aragon-Intimate-Henry-VIIIs/dp/1445656701/ref=la_B008GEGNV2_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1479806880&sr=1-2