HistoryExtra https://www.historyextra.com/people/elizabeth-of-york Thu, 08 Oct 2026 12:35:32 GMT en hourly 1 Think you know everything about the Tudors? Here are 15 facts that will prove you wrong https://www.historyextra.com/membership/think-you-know-everything-about-the-tudors-here-are-15-facts-that-will-prove-you-wrong/ Sun, 12 Apr 2026 15:00:00 GMT https://www.historyextra.com/membership/think-you-know-everything-about-the-tudors-here-are-15-facts-that-will-prove-you-wrong/ Tracy Borman shares a selection of surprising insights into England’s most famous royal dynasty – from Mary I’s love of gambling to the truth about Henry VIII’s extramarital affairs 1. The Tudors weren’t known as the Tudors
Although we use ‘Tudor’ as a nifty shorthand for both the era and the dynasty, it wasn’t used at the time either by the monarchs or their people. Neither did they see it as a distinct period: in fact, Henry VII went to great lengths to emphasise the continuity with his royal predecessors, even down to using the same tailor whom Edward IV had employed.
He also emphasised his Lancastrian roots and tried to downplay his Welsh origins, aware that his grandfather Owen Tudor had married well above him when he bagged Henry V’s widow Catherine of Valois as a bride. Throughout the period 1485–1603, the people identified as subjects of each successive king or queen, as well as taking pride in their local affiliations, rather than seeing themselves as ‘Tudor people’.
2. They had a pretty dodgy claim to the throne
When Henry Tudor won the crown from Richard III at the battle of Bosworth in 1485, he was quick to stress his legitimacy. But there was more than a hint of protesting too much. In fact, the Tudors were descended from Edward III’s fourth son, John of Gaunt, and his long-standing mistress, Katherine Swynford.
Moreover, Henry VII’s father Edmund was the child of Henry V’s widow, Catherine of Valois, by her Welsh attendant. With such a dubious bloodline, it’s little wonder that England’s first Tudor king wasted no time in marrying Elizabeth of York, the eldest child of Edward IV. Their marriage united the warring houses of York and Lancaster and, crucially, gave the Tudors some much-needed legitimacy.
3. Henry VII was no miser
The first Tudor king has a reputation for penny-pinching. But while he kept a close eye on his expenditure, he knew how to splash the cash when it was to his advantage.
In the early years of his reign, when he was under constant threat from rivals and pretenders and many of his subjects questioned his right to be king, he spent lavish sums on dressing the part. Just over a week after defeating Richard III at Bosworth, he ordered a set of new gowns fashioned from cloth of gold, satin and royal purple velvet at a cost of £336, which roughly equates to £225,000 in today’s money.
During the two years that followed, he spent an eye-watering £5,386 (£3.6 million) on his wardrobe. But his generosity had its limits. His wife, Elizabeth of York, struggled to make ends meet throughout their marriage.
4. You would smell Henry VIII before you saw him
For the last 20 years of his life, Henry was tormented by pain from a chronic leg ulcer, which was aggravated by a serious fall from his horse while jousting in 1536. The ulcer often became inflamed and – unsurprisingly – Henry was a difficult patient, refusing to rest for long enough for it to heal. At its worst, the suppurating wound could be smelt from three rooms away.
- Read more | Was this the moment Henry VIII became a tyrant?
5. Henry VIII’s love of hawking was almost the death of him
Henry’s love of sport was well known throughout the court. As a young king, he would spend hours hunting, jousting, shooting arrows and playing tennis. Hawking was another of his favourite sports and his private apartments contained an impressive array of falconry equipment.
But in 1525, Henry was almost killed while pursuing his hawk. Attempting to pole vault over a ditch, instead he fell headfirst into it and almost drowned. Thankfully, his quick-thinking footman, Edmund Moody, managed to pull him out in the nick of time.
6. Henry VIII was a bit of a prude
Contrary to popular belief, Tudor England’s most-married monarch wasn’t much of a lothario. In fact, he had twice as many wives as mistresses. There is only evidence of three extramarital affairs.
The women involved were Bessie Blount (the mother of Henry’s not-so-subtly-named illegitimate son, Henry Fitzroy), Mary Boleyn (sister of his second wife Anne) and ‘Mistress Shelton’, who was either Margaret or Mary Shelton, both cousins of Anne Boleyn.
Although there was a rumour that he once had an affair with Anne’s mother Elizabeth, he stoutly denied it: “Never with the mother!”
7. Anne Boleyn did not have a sixth finger on one hand
This oft-repeated tale is based on scurrilous gossip written almost 50 years after Anne’s death. A host of hostile Catholic tracts about Anne appeared in the 1580s as part of a smear campaign against her ‘heretic’ daughter, Elizabeth I.
Nicholas Sander was one of the most influential and claimed that Anne had been Henry VIII’s daughter as well as his wife, the result of his clandestine affair with her mother. Feeding on the rumours of witchcraft that had circulated at the time of Anne’s demise, he asserted that she had a sixth finger on her right hand and a large ‘wen’ (a boil or mole) under her chin.
Such blemishes were commonly thought to be the ‘Devil’s Mark’ – a symbol of having made a pact with Satan. In fact, Anne was proud of her long, slender fingers and always took care to show them off to best effect… all 10 of them.
8. Anne of Cleves was not ugly
You may have heard the story: Henry VIII fell in love with Anne of Cleves’ portrait and immediately signed on the dotted line of the marriage contract. But when he met his bride in person, he was appalled that she was nothing like her profile picture. So, he had the marriage annulled before you could say ‘off with her head’.
In fact, Holbein’s portrait was faithful to Anne, and many contemporary accounts praise her beauty. If anyone had cause for complaint about their betrothed’s physical assets, it was Anne. Henry was no oil painting by the time she married him in January 1540. Pushing 50, he was bloated, ulcer-ridden and almost certainly impotent. It was with understandable haste that Anne agreed to an annulment just six months later.
9. Edward VI kept a diary
The boy king was the only Tudor monarch to leave behind a private journal. But if you’re expecting a tell-all exposé full of secretly expressed desires, grudges and hopes, you might be disappointed. In fact, it’s a rather dry summary of the events of his reign.
Even the execution of his once-cherished uncle is afforded only the following curt line: “The Duke of Somerset had his head cut off today.” Overall, the diary reveals a boy who was precociously intelligent, as might be expected for Henry VIII’s “precious jewel”, who had the best of everything growing up.
But he also appears cold, unfeeling and uncompromising – a dangerous blend of traits that might have made him an even greater tyrant than his father if he lived to maturity.
10. Lady Jane Grey was queen for 14 days, not nine
Jane has gone down in history as the ‘Nine Days’ Queen’. But while it’s true that she was proclaimed queen on 10 July 1553 and deposed by Mary Tudor on 19 July, her reign technically began as soon as Edward VI had breathed his last on 6 July.
On his deathbed, Edward changed the succession in favour of his Protestant cousin Jane to prevent his Catholic half-sister Mary claiming her right. He was heavily influenced by John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, who had married his son Guildford to Jane.
Even so, Edward’s ‘Device’ for the succession was legally-binding, so Jane was the rightful queen as soon as the young king died. Yet she is always referred to as ‘Lady’ rather than ‘Queen’ and is often omitted from the roll call of English monarchs altogether. That owes much to Mary Tudor’s propaganda: to seize the throne, she had to present Jane as a usurper.
11. ‘Bloody Mary’ wasn’t all that bloody
Mary I’s obsession with returning England to the Roman Catholic faith spurred her to have around 300 Protestant heretics burned at the stake. But while there is no doubting the horrific nature of their deaths, Mary acted out of conscience rather than brutality.
Blinded by her own faith, she genuinely believed that she was saving her subjects from eternal damnation by bringing them into the Roman Catholic fold. Furthermore, the number of people who died on Mary’s orders was just a fraction of those who suffered at the hands of her far bloodier father, Henry VIII.
He sent more men and women to their deaths than any other Tudor monarch. Anyone who refused to fall in with his will was sent to the block – commoners, statesmen and wives alike. It even became a crime to think differently from the king. Contemporary records are patchy and inconsistent, so it’s impossible to quantify exactly how many deaths Henry was responsible for. Estimates vary from a few thousand to as many as 72,000.
12. Mary Tudor was a bit of a party girl
Despite her reputation for sober-mindedness and piety, Mary loved to have fun. One of her favourite companions was Jane Fool, a female jester. The queen was also an avid gambler and loved to play cards and board games. She also entertained lavishly and spent huge sums on feasting and drinking.
A scandalised Spanish ambassador reported: “There is plenty of beer here, and they drink more than would fill the Valladolid river [known as the Pisuerga river today]… The ladies and gentlemen put sugar in their wine, with the result that there are great goings on in the palace.”
13. Elizabeth I employed the original James Bond
The queen’s personal astrologer Dr John Dee was one of her closest advisers. She would regularly consult him about the most apposite moment to undertake key events, such as her coronation.
An astrologer, astronomer, mathematician and philosopher, Dee was one of the most learned men of the age. But he also carried out more covert assignments for his royal mistress. She employed Dee as a spy, and he would report on intrigues abroad using complex codes. He signed his letters with the numerals ‘007’.
14. Elizabeth I was (apparently) a man
The ‘Bisley Boy’ legend states that in 1542, the future Elizabeth I (then aged around nine) was sent to Overcourt House in the Cotswold village of Bisley to escape the plague in London. Whilst there, she sickened with a fever and died. Knowing that Henry VIII was on his way to visit his daughter, her panic-stricken governess searched the village in vain for a girl who resembled Elizabeth closely enough to fool the king.
The only child of the right age and colouring was a boy, so in desperation she dressed him in the princess’s clothes and the deception was complete. This unlikely tale dates from the 1800s and was made popular by Dracula author Bram Stoker in his book Famous Impostors.
There is no contemporary evidence to support it and more than a whiff of misogyny about the whole thing. How else could Elizabeth have ruled so successfully for so many years? She must have been a man.
15. Elizabeth I didn’t leave her throne to James VI
But as she lay dying at Richmond Palace in March 1603, she finally settled the matter, gasping that she would have none but “my nearest kinsman the King of Scots”.
This deathbed scene was recorded by the contemporary historian William Camden, who had been commissioned to write a biography of the celebrated queen during her lifetime. But dramatic new research by the British Library has proved that Camden was forced to rewrite it on the orders of the new king to make his accession look more predetermined than it had been.
Using transmitted light, the researchers found that in his original manuscript, written at the time of Elizabeth’s death, Camden had recorded that she died without naming a successor. But a few years later, his words were covered over with the lie that ushered the Stuarts to the Tudor throne.
]]> How Elizabeth of York paved the way for her granddaughters to rule https://www.historyextra.com/period/tudor/elizabeth-york-how-why-not-rule-granddaughters/ Tue, 26 Jul 2022 13:54:32 GMT https://www.historyextra.com/period/tudor/elizabeth-york-how-why-not-rule-granddaughters/ What changed between Elizabeth of York’s age and her granddaughters’ time that allowed them to rule in their own right? Leading historian Alison Weir explores the claim of the heiress of the House of York and how, though she was passed over to rule, she laid the groundwork for Tudor generations to come… In January 1486, when Henry VII seized the throne of England, he married Elizabeth, the heiress of the House of York. He took care to be crowned before the wedding, so that it should not be said that he owed his kingly title to his wife. In fact, Elizabeth of York was the true heir with the better claim.
Her father, Edward IV, had died unexpectedly in 1483. He left behind a male heir and a ‘spare’, but the ‘Princes in the Tower’ – as they would become known – disappeared in the autumn of 1483, after their uncle claimed the crown for himself, becoming Richard III. They and their siblings had been declared bastards, on highly dubious grounds. Many still regarded Elizabeth, their eldest sister, as the true heiress to the throne.
- Read more about Elizabeth of York: a Tudor of rare talent
After Richard III fell at the battle of Bosworth in 1485, no one supported Elizabeth’s claim to the throne because she was a woman – her value was purely matrimonial. Parliament had already declared that Henry VII was king. (It was not until the 1530s that their son, Henry VIII, acknowledged that his title had come primarily from his mother.)
But back in 1485, Elizabeth, however, had had other ideas. If we believe a contemporary rhyming chronicle, The Song of Lady Bessy, she declared: “Queen of England I must be.”
On Henry VII’s accession, the courtesy and honour accorded to her must have given her cause to hope that she would soon be queen in her own right and rule jointly with Henry, as Ferdinand and Isabella did in Spain. She may have been disconcerted to learn that, despite Henry having pledged, in 1483, to marry Elizabeth to give legitimacy to his title, he had assumed the style of king in his own name on the battlefield at Bosworth, without any mention of her at all.
Furthermore, when she reached London, she might have found it strange that there was no state welcome in the capital, or any celebrations to mark her arrival. These were the first indications that her marriage to Henry VII was not to be regarded as the means of his kingship. Had she processed through the city in triumph, it might have looked as if she herself was the rightful sovereign.
There is evidence to suggest that Henry was in no hurry to marry her. It was his intent that no one should ever say that he owed his crown to his queen (although many did). He declared he would not be his wife’s “gentleman usher” and was resolved to be crowned and have parliament recognise his title before he married her. He could not wait to defer his coronation until he was married, yet a joint ceremony with Elizabeth might have sent out the message that they were equal sovereigns. And so there was no queen at his coronation, and the service was hastily amended to omit all references to one.
Why didn’t Elizabeth of York assume the throne?
Yet Elizabeth was the undisputed heiress of Edward IV. A political poem of 1487 acknowledged that Edward IV's title had “fallen to our sovereign lady, Queen Elizabeth, his eldest daughter; to her is come all the whole monarchy. The crown therefore and sceptre imperial she must have without division.”
Undoubtedly, she had a better claim to the throne than Henry did, yet there is no record of her resenting Henry’s relegation of her to the role of queen consort. Although the Pope himself called her the undoubted heir of Edward IV, and there were those who thought that Henry and Elizabeth should reign as joint sovereigns, no one seriously considered that a woman could rule alone as queen regnant. On the contrary, her throne was the inheritance she brought to her husband. Traditionally, women could transmit the crown – the royal houses of Plantagenet, York and Tudor derived their claim through the female line – but not wield sovereign power.
An enduring prejudice
There was no Salic law in England that barred women from the throne, as there was in France, so there was nothing to prevent a woman from ruling – but memories of female misrule were long. People remembered how, in the 12th century, the haughty, overbearing Empress Matilda’s attempt to pursue her lawful claim to the throne had resulted in a civil war so bloody that it had been said that “God and His saints slept”. That experience had left the English with an enduring prejudice against female rulers.
The notion of a woman wielding dominion over men was seen as unnatural and against the laws of God and Nature. As the Duke of Buckingham bluntly put it: “It was not women’s place to govern the kingdom, but men’s.” Women were regarded as weak, irrational creatures, unfit to lead armies in battle and interfere in affairs of state. In law, they were regarded as infants. Their primary purpose was to be wives and mothers, subordinate to their menfolk, in whose interests their marriages were arranged. Thus no one spoke out in favour of Elizabeth of York ascending the throne in her own right as England’s lawful queen. It would be left to the granddaughter who was named for her, Elizabeth I, to prove that a woman could rule successfully.
Even so, there were those who felt strongly that Henry VII ruled only in right of his wife, and he remained unpopular “for the wrong he did his Queen, that he did not rule in her right”.
How could Mary I and Elizabeth I rule, when their grandmother did not?
Nearly 60 years after Elizabeth was passed over, her son, Henry VIII, placed his daughters in the direct line of succession after his son, the short-lived Edward VI. This is how England (after the short nine-day rule of Lady Jane Grey) came to be ruled by two sovereign queens, Mary I and Elizabeth I, between 1553 and 1603.
Unlike Edward IV, who left two sons, Henry had just one male heir and was concerned to assure the succession of the heirs of his body. In 1485, there had been several male claimants to the throne with arguably strong claims. In 1544, when Henry VIII’s Act of Succession was passed, there were no other male heirs of the Tudor line, so Henry had no choice but to look to his daughters. Furthermore, by then, several European royal women – notably Isabella of Castile, Margaret of Austria and Louise of Savoy – had proved that women could wield sovereign power effectively.
There remained a strong perception that reigning queens needed husbands to rule in their name. When Mary I came to the throne in 1553, her immediate priority was to find a suitable match, and she settled on Philip of Spain, a marriage that was to have disastrous consequences. It was left to Mary’s sister, Elizabeth I – the ‘Virgin Queen’ – to show that a woman could rule alone.
Small wonder that Henry VII’s biographer, Sir Francis Bacon, writing in the early 17th century, expressed disapproval at the king passing over Elizabeth of York’s better claim to be England’s ruler and portrayed their marriage – incorrectly – as miserable. We can only wonder if, had Elizabeth been given the chance to exercise sovereign power, she would have been as successful as her namesake granddaughter.
Alison Weir’s latest novel and the first in the Tudor Rose trilogy, Elizabeth of York: The Last White Rose is out now in hardback published by Headline (2022)
View oEmbed on the source website]]> Elizabeth of York: a Tudor of rare talent https://www.historyextra.com/period/tudor/elizabeth-of-york-a-tudor-of-rare-talent/ Fri, 08 Apr 2022 06:05:00 GMT https://www.historyextra.com/period/tudor/elizabeth-of-york-a-tudor-of-rare-talent/ Elizabeth of York was the eldest daughter of the Yorkist king Edward IV, sister of the princes in the Tower, and niece of Richard III. Her marriage to Henry VII was hugely popular, for the union of the white rose of York and the red rose of Lancaster was seen as bringing peace after years of dynastic war. She may not have sought the limelight as much as some of her contemporaries, but Henry VIII's mother was a Tudor of rare talent, says Alison Weir In a richly illuminated manuscript, the Vaux Passional, in the National Library of Wales in Aberystwyth, there is an illumination showing the presentation of a book to Henry VII, the first Tudor monarch. Behind the throne can be seen an empty black-draped bed, and kneeling beside it is a boy in a green tunic, his red-haired head buried in his arms. Almost certainly this image portrays the young Henry VIII weeping for his mother, Elizabeth of York, who died in 1503 when he was 11.
This illustration suggests that Henry’s closeness to his mother was well known. We have his own testimony to his grief at her loss: four years later, in a letter about the untimely demise of Philip I of Castile – whom Henry had grown to admire when the two met in England in 1506 – the young prince wrote: “Never since the death of my dearest mother hath there come to me more hateful intelligence. It seemed to tear open the wound to which time had brought insensibility.”
Elizabeth of York played an important role in the Wars of the Roses and the early Tudor story. Born in 1466, she was the eldest daughter of the Yorkist king Edward IV, sister of the princes in the Tower, and niece of Richard III, who had her and her siblings declared bastards so that he could claim the throne.
The probable murder of her brothers in the Tower of London in 1483 meant that, in the eyes of many, Elizabeth was the rightful queen of England. Richard III himself contemplated marrying her, but in 1485 Henry Tudor, who claimed to be the heir to the House of Lancaster and had sworn to marry Elizabeth, came from France with an army and defeated Richard at the battle of Bosworth. Thus was founded the Tudor dynasty. The marriage of King Henry VII and Elizabeth of York was hugely popular, for the union of the white rose of York and the red rose of Lancaster was seen as bringing peace after years of dynastic war.
Elizabeth was intelligent and beautiful. A Venetian report described her as “a very handsome woman of great ability, and in conduct very able,” beloved for her abundant “charity and humanity”. The humanist scholar Erasmus described her in one word: “brilliant”.
Did Henry VII love Elizabeth of York?
That there was affection and tenderness between Henry and Elizabeth cannot be doubted. The pair shared what was apparently a happy marriage, giving each other little presents.
The couple’s early years together may have been challenging, for Henry had to overcome his suspicions of his Yorkist bride and deal with her dangerous relations. Yet she was to leave him in no doubt as to where her loyalties lay. As time passed, Henry clearly grew to love, trust and respect Elizabeth, and they seem to have become emotionally close. There survives good evidence that she loved him, and a moving account of how they comforted each other when their eldest son, Arthur, died in 1502.
A Spanish envoy claimed in 1498 that Elizabeth “suffered under great oppression and led a miserable, cheerless life”. Yet there are many instances of the king showing genuine concern for her health and her happiness; and on this isolated occasion Elizabeth probably appeared subdued because she was newly pregnant and unwell.
In 1613 Sir Francis Bacon asserted that Henry VII was “nothing uxorious, nor scarce indulgent” and “showed himself no very indulgent husband, though she was beautiful, gentle and fruitful”. But there is little else to support his damning assessment of the marriage.
- On the podcast | Thomas Penn discusses the Wars of the Roses, the princes in the Tower and the start of the Tudor era as he reflects on the Yorkist dynasty
Kings were not expected to share government with their queens, or to rely on their advice, and certainly they were not supposed to be influenced by them in political matters. Instances of Elizabeth using her influence probably went largely unrecorded, due to her intimate relationship with the king. It was accepted that she might be privy to matters of state, but contemporary advice – which she might have read – urged that her “wisdom ought to appear in speaking, that is to wit that she be secret and tell not such things as ought to be holden secret”. There are instances of Henry paying heed to her concerns, but it was not in his nature to be swayed by her.
Elizabeth performed her queenly role to perfection, understanding exactly what was required of her, and conforming seemingly effortlessly to the late medieval ideal of queenship, which constrained her to a role that was essentially decorous, symbolic and dynastic. She was beautiful, devout, fertile and kind – the traditional good queen.
In the past, historians tended to compare her favourably to Margaret of Anjou, that “great and strong laboured woman”. Yet today, in the wake of a revolution in women’s liberation, it is the proactive Margaret, vigorously fighting her husband Henry VI’s cause, who earns admiration, rather than the passive Elizabeth.
Today, women forge their reputations through their strengths, and what they do. In the 15th and 16th centuries, however, queens were not expected to do very much beyond exemplifying the humane, feminine side of monarchy – interceding for others, being charming to foreign ambassadors, or winning popularity by their charities, their gifts to the poor, their pilgrimages and their pious example. Getting involved in politics and wars were steps too far.
Unlike Margaret of Anjou, Elizabeth never identified herself with factions at court; unlike her mother, Elizabeth Woodville, she did not promote a horde of ambitious relatives. Certainly she was not as politically inclined, or as politically active, as Elizabeth Woodville. Once she achieved her ambition to be queen, she interested herself chiefly in affairs that were her legitimate concerns: her household, her estates, her court and her children.
But Elizabeth’s Plantagenet blood and her superior claim to the throne placed her in a difficult position, especially when Yorkist pretenders emerged to contest Henry VII’s throne. How she rose to these challenges we do not know, yet we can surely infer, from the emerging harmony of her married life, that she took care never to be controversial and always to place her husband’s interests first.
Did Elizabeth of York have any power?
From time to time, the king did involve her in diplomatic relations, mainly in helping to arrange their children’s marriages – a task that queens were traditionally expected to perform. It is often said that, apart from this role, Henry allowed Elizabeth no power at all. But evidently it was known that she exercised a gentle, unobtrusive influence on him, as is evidenced by the endless stream of gifts to her from powerful persons who clearly believed that her patronage was worth having.
There are instances of her exercising authority independently of her husband, intervening in matters of law, and petitioning him on behalf of her servants, London merchants and others. When one of her Welsh tenants complained of the heavy-handedness of Henry’s uncle, Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, she did not refer the matter to the king but sent a sharp reproof to Pembroke herself, which apparently achieved the desired result.
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In another letter Elizabeth rebuked John de Vere, Earl of Oxford in regard to the disputed ownership of a manor. Here we see her being firm, fair and concerned to right a wrong, and her influence must have been known to be effective, or Simon Bryant would surely not have judged it worth appealing to her for help.
In February 1502 Elizabeth’s brother-in-law William Courtenay was imprisoned in the Tower on a charge of treason. Her accounts show that, a month beforehand, she had taken into her charge his young children, whom she would now succour with their mother, her sister Katherine. This suggests that Henry VII had come to rely on Elizabeth so absolutely that he confided his intentions to her, essentially entrusting her with a state secret of the highest level.
How did Elizabeth of York die?
Elizabeth died on 11 February 1503, a few days after giving birth to a daughter, Katherine, who died soon after. It was a shattering personal blow to the king, says Dr James Ross – her grand funeral was the public expression of this. It was also, however, a major political blow. Elizabeth’s bloodline was, in many eyes, superior to that of Henry Tudor himself, and her death robbed him of one prop to his dynastic claim, as well as ending hopes that he and Elizabeth could have more children: the dynasty’s future hung on the sole surviving prince, Henry – the future Henry VIII – aged just 11. Henry VII did engage in diplomacy to find a second wife, but did not in the end remarry
Elizabeth’s legacy to the Tudor dynasty was her Plantagenet blood, which compensated for any deficiency in Henry VII’s descent. Her goodness shines forth in the records; she was greatly loved, and deservedly so. Certainly the sources show that she deserves a lot more credit for her political accomplishments than most historians have been prepared to give her – and that she was highly active within the late medieval queen’s traditional spheres of influence. It is also clear that, far from living in subjection to Henry VII and his mother, Margaret Beaufort, she enjoyed a good relationship with both.
Elizabeth is often unfairly overshadowed by her successors, the wives of Henry VIII, but she was a more successful queen than any of them. For this, her integrity and her sweet, good nature, her memory deserves to be celebrated.
Alison Weir is Britain’s bestselling female historian, and the author of 20 books. She has written biographies of Mary, Queen of Scots, Elizabeth I and Henry VIII’s six wives. To find out more, visit alisonweir.org.uk
This article was first published in the December 2013 issue of BBC History Magazine
]]> 3 of the most famous royal weddings in history https://www.historyextra.com/period/20th-century/video-3-of-the-most-famous-royal-weddings-in-history/ Sat, 19 May 2018 10:59:03 GMT https://www.historyextra.com/period/20th-century/video-3-of-the-most-famous-royal-weddings-in-history/ Ahead of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle's wedding, royal historian and author Carolyn Harris shared eight of the most famous royal weddings in British history. Here's a video featuring three of the famous unions… View oEmbed on the source website
Read the full article by Carolyn Harris HERE
]]> On the trail of the Yorks: 8 places associated with Richard III’s family https://www.historyextra.com/membership/on-the-trail-of-the-yorks-8-places-associated-with-richard-iiis-family/ Fri, 22 Jul 2016 08:22:49 GMT https://www.historyextra.com/membership/on-the-trail-of-the-yorks-8-places-associated-with-richard-iiis-family/ Richard III is the House of York’s best-known and most controversial figure. Yet many other members of this family are equally intriguing – from Richard’s older brother Edward IV to Elizabeth Woodville and her daughter Elizabeth of York. In her latest book, On the Trail of the Yorks, Kristie Dean visits the places that shaped each of their lives, discovering their stories through the locations they visited and inhabited Here, writing for History Extra, Dean explores eight places associated with one of history’s most fascinating families…
Richard, Duke of York, and Old St Paul’s Cathedral
Construction on Old St Paul’s Cathedral was begun in 1087. Following a disastrous fire, it had to be largely rebuilt in the 12th century. The structure was immense, dominating the skyline of London for many years. A large wall completely surrounded the cathedral, complete with six precinct gates that were opened every morning.
It was through one of these gates that Richard, Duke of York would pass in order to swear an oath to Henry VI following his failed move against the king at Dartford. As York entered the cathedral, he would have walked beneath the nave’s intricately groined ceiling as he moved through the crowded room towards the high altar. Light streaming in through the exquisite Rose Window would have flooded the room as he made his way up the steps. Standing at the high altar, in front of the tablet encrusted with sparkling jewels, he made his oath to Henry on the sacrament.
A few years later, on 25 March 1458, York would revisit the cathedral as part of the ‘loveday’ procession. This parade of nobles to St Paul’s Cathedral was part of Henry VI’s plan to demonstrate that peace had been restored between competing Lancastrian and Yorkists factions in the kingdom. During the procession, York and Queen Margaret walked hand in hand towards St Paul’s Cathedral. Once inside the nave, with its 12 bays and vaulted ceilings, the group heard Mass. Following the service, the group once again left in procession. While peace seemed to have been restored, the underlying problems had not been addressed, ultimately leading to war.
Cecily Neville and Baynard’s Castle, London
Resting on the banks of the Thames, Baynard’s Castle was an impressive home. Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester had rebuilt the residence just west of Paul’s Wharf following a terrible fire in the 15th century. The home eventually passed into the hands of Richard, Duke of York.
Baynard’s Castle was a favourite residence of Richard III’s mother, Cecily Neville, for many years. She was most likely here when she learned of her husband’s death at the 1460 battle of Wakefield, a major battle in the Wars of the Roses, and fearing for her younger sons’ safety, arranged for them to be sent abroad. She, along with her daughter Margaret, stayed and awaited news of Edward’s progress. Following her eldest son’s entrance into the city, a large council met at Baynard’s Castle to ask him to be king. After Edward left the city to defend his new crown, Cecily and Margaret stayed in London.
The Bishop of Elphin (a bishop from Ireland) was at Baynard’s with Cecily when she received news of the 1461 battle of Towton. He wrote to the Bishop of Terni (a bishop from the Roman Catholic Diocese in Belgium, also known as Tournai) saying that he “was present in the house of the Duchess of York” when news of the battle was delivered. After Cecily heard the news, she, along with the bishop, climbed the broad staircase and returned to the chapel to say Te Deum. Her son, the future Edward IV, had won a significant victory.
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South front of Baynard's Castle, London, in about 1640 (1904). By artist Andrew Birrell. (Photo by The Print Collector/Getty Images)
Anne Neville and Cerne Abbey
As the daughter of the Earl of Warwick, a leading noble who was a staunch supporter of the Yorkist faction, Anne Neville grew up in a Yorkist family. Eventually, following a break with Edward IV, Warwick switched loyalties to the Lancastrian faction, who supported Henry VI as king. Part of the agreement between Warwick and Queen Margaret, Henry VI’s wife, included the marriage of Anne to Prince Edward, the Lancastrian heir. Warwick was sent back to England to prepare the way for Anne and her new husband’s arrival.
After leaving France in 1471, Anne Neville, as part of the Lancastrian party, landed at Weymouth. Following their arrival, they learned of the disastrous defeat at Barnet [in April 1471] and of the death of Anne’s father. While we have no record of Anne’s feelings, Queen Margaret, according to Vergil, “swownyd for feare; she was distrawght, dismayd, and tormentyd with sorow…” She soon recovered, and, gathering her supporters, moved inland.
Making their way to Cerne Abbey, the group was welcomed and offered the abbey’s guesthouse, which had been built by Abbot John Vanne. The abbey, which had been founded in the 10th century, had several wealthy benefactors throughout its history, including Edward IV. Nestled in the Dorset hills, the abbey grew both in wealth and in property. The guesthouse that Margaret, Prince Edward and Anne would have seen was opulently decorated.
Safely ensconced within the abbey walls, Margaret met with advisors to determine her best course of action. Should they retreat back to France or continue onwards without Warwick? While she probably did not have a voice in the decision, Anne would have been present for the discussions that would determine her future. As the room was comfortably warmed by the fire in the large fireplace ornamented with Vanne’s crest, Anne would have listened to her husband and mother-in-law consult with their supporters. It was here that a decision was made to move forward towards battle, which ultimately would end in her husband’s death on a field at Tewkesbury in May 1471.
Edward IV, Elizabeth Woodville and Reading Abbey
Elizabeth Woodville, the Lancastrian widow of Sir John Grey [whose family had supported the Lancastrian cause], married Edward IV in the May of 1464, but she had to wait for several months before a public pronouncement was made because the Earl of Warwick was at the time promoting a marriage with France. In September 1464, Edward met with his council at Reading. During the meeting, Edward dropped the bombshell that he had married Woodville some months earlier.
The announcement sent ripples of dismay through the court. John Wenlock reported in a letter that the king’s announcement had caused “great displeasure to many great lords, and especially to the larger part of all his council”. Most of the nobles realised that they would have to reconcile themselves to the marriage, however, since it had already occurred.
On Michaelmas Day, the Duke of Clarence (Edward IV’s brother), and the Earl of Warwick escorted Elizabeth into the large church at Reading Abbey. The church, built with Caen stone, was impressive. The nave was more than 200 feet long and 40 feet wide, and the choir was about 100 feet long. Highly decorated, with beautiful stained glass, elaborate wall paintings, soaring columns and paved floors, the church was a fitting place for Elizabeth to be presented as Edward’s queen to those assembled.
George, Duke of Clarence, and Warwick Castle
Perched on a rocky cliff above the river Avon, Warwick Castle was a residence of several members of the York family. Edward, George, Richard and Anne Neville all spent time in the impressive fortress, which was originally built as a motte-and-bailey castle by William the Conqueror. The castle passed from the Beauchamps and then to the Nevilles, before coming to George, Duke of Clarence.
George and his wife, Isabel Neville, often stayed at Warwick. Entering through the projecting barbican, flanked by a pair of octagonal turrets, the couple would have walked across the drawbridge over the dry moat. Once inside, they would have made their way to their chambers. It was in her chambers at Warwick that Isabel gave birth on 25 February 1475 to Edward. Soon, George’s heir would join his older sister, Margaret, in the nursery.
While often the scene of joyous events, such as the birth of Edward, the castle was also host to tragedy. Isabel gave birth to another son, Richard, in 1476 and both she and the child were brought to Warwick where Isabel died, perhaps of childbed fever. The baby also died. After the death of his wife and child, George arrested Ankarette Twynho, one of his wife’s servants, and accused her of poisoning the duchess. He had her brought to Warwick, where she was tried, convicted and hanged. This was one of George’s last acts, as he was soon arrested and placed in the Tower of London.
Warwick Castle. (© David Steele/Dreamstime.com)
Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy, and the Palace of Placentia (Greenwich)
Once her brother, Edward, became king in 1461 Margaret was housed at Greenwich and provided for by him. The palace, which included gardens, courtyards and a 200-acre park, extended from the Thames to the foot of the hill, where Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester had built a stone tower. In his first years as king, Edward IV enlarged the palace and stocked the park with deer.
When Margaret returned to England in 1480 as part of an embassy attempting to draw her brother into an Anglo-Burgundian alliance against France, Edward arranged for an elaborate procession for his sister. The king had provided the royal barge for Margaret, with the master and 24 bargemen attired in new jackets of murrey and blue, embellished with roses. The horses were wearing harnesses of “green velvet, garnished with aglets of silver gilt, bordered with spangels…” Arriving at Greenwich, Margaret was escorted to her opulent chambers, complete with intricately woven tapestries and a feather bed with a valence of velvet. Pieces of woven wool tapestry covered the table containing images of “roses, sunnes and crowns”.
While she was at Greenwich, a large state dinner was given in both Margaret’s and Cecily’s honour. Most of her family, including Edward, Richard and her sister, Elizabeth, Duchess of Suffolk were in attendance. Margaret stayed in England for about three months, alternating between Greenwich and Coldharbour.
Anne, Duchess of Exeter, and Dartington Hall
Anne was the elder sister of Edward IV, George and Richard III. In 1446 she was married to Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter, who chose to side with the Lancastrians against her father and brothers. His decision eventually led to his downfall. After her husband’s attainder (the forfeiture of his lands and civil rights) in 1461, Anne received grants of land from her brother, which included much of the Exeter inheritance, and retained custody of her daughter. One of the grants of land she received included Dartington Hall, which came to her because of “the true and deep affection which the aforesaid Anne, our sister, has and bears towards us”.
A residence has stood on the land overlooking the River Dart since the 12th century. Richard II granted the area to his half-brother, John Holland, who erected most of the buildings, including a set of buildings laid out in a large double quadrangle. The old hall, located at the north-east corner of the quadrangle, was the earliest part of the structure and dates from the early 14th century.
In the 19th century the home was described by a visitor as “one of the most picturesque and charming seats in Devon… within sound of the murmur of the rushing Dart”.
Following Anne’s death, the home passed through a series of hands, including those of her second husband, Thomas St Leger.
Dartington Hall. (© Jennifer Thompson/Dreamstime.com)
Elizabeth, Duchess of Suffolk, and Wingfield
Elizabeth was the fifth child and second daughter born to Cecily and Richard who survived early childhood. In 1458, she married John de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk. Because his mother, Alice Chaucer, was living at Ewelme, John and Elizabeth made Wingfield their main residence. Much of the news regarding her family would have been delivered to Elizabeth while she was in residence at Wingfield.
A large manor house, Wingfield was located a few miles from Eye. As Elizabeth entered the home for the first time she would have crossed a drawbridge over the moat before making her way through the gateway emblazoned on each side with the arms of her new family. Large turreted towers flanked the gateway. Passing under the portcullis she would have reached the courtyard, where she would have seen the quadrangle plan of the buildings.
Life would have been busy in Elizabeth’s new lodgings. The Great Hall sat along the west side of the building. When visitors arrived, large feasts would be held in the hall, with Elizabeth and John seated on a dais. John and Elizabeth had a large family, and several of their children would have been born in her chambers at Wingfield.
The parish church of St Andrew was also nearby. When Elizabeth entered the church she would have seen the brightly painted panelled ceiling of the nave. The font, where several of the de la Pole children were likely christened, had been given to the church by Michael de la Pole, an ancestor of her husband. Eventually both John and Elizabeth would be buried here.
Kristie Dean is the author of On the Trail of the Yorks (Amberley Publishing, 2016).
]]> JFK and a neglected Tudor, Elizabeth of York https://www.historyextra.com/membership/jfk-and-a-neglected-tudor/ Thu, 21 Nov 2013 17:10:59 GMT https://www.historyextra.com/membership/jfk-and-a-neglected-tudor/ Mark White reappraises JFK on the 50th anniversary of his assassination, while Alison Weir describes the life of Elizabeth of York, mother of Henry VIII Mark White reappraises JFK on the 50th anniversary of his assassination, while Alison Weir describes the life of Elizabeth of York, mother of Henry VIII.
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