One woman considered it a challenge worth overcoming. Weeks before, Margaret Beaufort had sought the king’s assistance in returning her son home from exile in Brittany, yet even then the possibility of Henry marrying one of the Woodville daughters was strong in her mind. With the result of these negotiations inconclusive, she now looked elsewhere to fulfil her ambitions. When it seemed that the princes would not be leaving the Tower, Margaret had begun ‘to hope well of her son’s fortune’, especially if Henry might somehow be able to one day marry Elizabeth of York, thereby ensuring that ‘the blood of King Henry the Sixth and of King Edward to be intermingled by affinity’, and allowing Henry to launch a credible assault upon the throne. Determined not to let ‘so great opportunity’ pass, Margaret would first need to gain Queen Elizabeth’s support for the match, contacting her in sanctuary without raising Richard’s suspicions.
It seemed an impossible task, yet Margaret was confident that it could be done without the king suspecting a thing. Contact between the two women was to be established by means of a physician they shared, the Welshman Lewis Caerleon, ‘a grave man and of no small experience’ with whom Margaret was accustomed ‘oftentimes to confer freely with all, and with him familiarly to lament her adversity’. Caerleon had been a leading intellectual at the Lancastrian court, who had offered a horoscope to Henry VI in 1441, and who had written extensively on astronomy and mathematics. By 1482 he had taken to practising medicine in London, where he continued to serve the queen from her sanctuary, a position which had enabled him to slip through the net of armed guards surrounding Westminster.
The Tudor historian Polydore Vergil is the only source for the episode; despite writing from the evident position of hindsight, and thereby able to mould his narrative of events into a seamless plan, Vergil’s account, which should therefore be treated with caution, reveals the painstaking efforts that Margaret Beaufort took to foster and secure her son’s claim to the throne. Margaret informed Lewis Caerleon of her plan to marry Elizabeth to Henry, ensuring that Richard ‘might easily be dejected’. Requesting that Lewis visit Queen Elizabeth in sanctuary and ‘deal secretly with the queen of such affair’, for several weeks, Lewis carried messages between Queen Elizabeth and Margaret Beaufort, who remained in London, residing at Thomas Stanley’s house in the capital. Lewis erred initially on the side of caution, broaching with the queen the idea of Henry marrying her eldest daughter, as if it was ‘devised of his own head’. Elizabeth, by now probably aware that her two sons were dead, agreed; being ‘so well pleased’ with the idea, she ordered Lewis to return to Margaret and ‘promise in her name that she would do her endeavour to procure all her husband King Edward’s friends to take part with Henry her son, so that he might be sworn to take in marriage Elizabeth her daughter’.
As soon as Margaret gained news that Elizabeth Woodville was supportive of the plan, she ordered Reginald Bray, her long-standing and trusted servant, whom she had known since he had managed the estates of her late husband Henry Stafford, and who would now become ‘the chief dealer in this conspiracy’ to ‘draw into her party, as secretly as might be’ those men who had been members of Edward IV’s household, and were still considered loyal to the memories of the dead king and his children. Within a few days, Bray had contacted Sir Giles Daubeney, Richard Guildford and John Cheyney, securing their support through an oath ‘of every man particularly’. At the same time, Queen Elizabeth had managed to make her own friends ‘partakers of this devise and business’ to prepare for rebellion ‘with all speed convenient’.
Elizabeth Woodville had remained in contact with her son by her first marriage, Thomas, Marquess of Dorset, and her brother Lionel Woodville, the Bishop of Salisbury, both who had managed to escape into hiding. Both would now be critical to organising a network of plotters around Kent, Wiltshire and Berkshire, and Devonshire. Some of the gentlemen who joined their side had well-established connections with the Woodvilles, including Sir Richard Haute and John Guildford. But many were the former household men and servants of the dead king, likely contacted by Reginald Bray. They included Edward’s brother-inlaw Sir Thomas St Leger, the master of his horse Sir John Cheyney, the treasurer of his household Sir John Fogge and other chamber knights including George Brown, William Norris, William Stonor, William Berkeley, Giles Daubeney, and Edward’s former secretary Peter Courtenay, currently the Bishop of Exeter. Many were able to draw their brothers and sons into the rebellion, including Courtenay’s distant kinsman and head of the family Edward Courtenay, who may have hoped that in supporting a successful change in regime, he might be able to win back the confiscated family title of the Earldom of Devon. Courtenay’s own participation in the rebellion points to a new dimension not only to the revolt, but to the entire dynamic of the political scene: a diehard Lancastrian, the very fact that Courtenay would decide to join forces with loyal household men of his own Yorkist nemesis is a remarkable indication of the determination and strength of feeling to unseat Richard from the throne.
While the strength of the proposed rebellion gathered, Margaret ordered a young priest, Christopher Urswick, who had entered her household on Caerleon’s recommendation and whom she had granted the rectory of Puttenham the previous December, to prepare to travel to Brittany to inform her son Henry about what she had planned for him, ‘to signify unto him all that was done with the Queen’ and the prospect of his marriage to Elizabeth of York, and no doubt urging him to prepare to launch an invasion to return to England as soon as he possibly could. Before Urswick was able to depart, Margaret received remarkable news from Reginald Bray.
Bray had journeyed to visit John Morton, the Bishop of Ely, who had been placed under the Duke of Buckingham’s custody at Brecon Castle following Richard’s seizure of Hastings in the Tower. Born in 1420, Morton had impeccable Lancastrian credentials, having served Henry VI faithfully ‘and nevertheless left it not nor forsook it in woe’. He had been taken prisoner at Towton, yet still refused to switch his allegiance. Instead he escaped from the Tower to face penniless exile abroad with Margaret of Anjou and her son. He accompanied her on the road to Tewkesbury, and only then, once her son had been killed and Henry discovered dead in the Tower, did he submit himself to the Yorkist cause. He had served Edward IV with similar loyalty, as he later admitted, ‘so was I to King Edward faithful chaplain’, adding, ‘and glad would have been that his child had succeeded him’. Richard’s usurpation of the throne had seen Morton’s faithfulness to the Yorkist regime sorely tested; now he prepared to return to his Lancastian roots.
Bray brought news not merely of Morton’s support for the rebellion, but of his captor’s too. Hearing Bray relate what the bishop had told him, Margaret must have regarded the Duke of Buckingham’s decision either with disbelief or suspicion, or both. The duke hardly had reason to be dissatisfied with his share of the rewards of power that Richard’s usurpation had brought; the beneficiary of an enormous share of crown lands and castles in Wales, making him the effective viceroy of the country, he had been further rewarded on 13 July with lands from the Duchy of Lancaster worth £1,100. In spite of these staggering rewards, not to mention his renowned hostility towards the Woodvilles, Buckingham had chosen to turn against his master. Margaret must have asked herself why; indeed, to this day it is difficult to understand how the duke himself reached the decision he did.
Of course, being an ambitious man, Buckingham could have been considered to have a claim to the throne himself; as a great-grandson of Thomas of Woodstock, the youngest son of Edward III, the duke may have believed that he could take advantage of the rebellion to seize the crown himself. Polydore Vergil recorded that there was a rumour that Buckingham had deliberately persuaded Richard to usurp the throne ‘by means of so many mischievous deeds’ in order that, ‘being hated both of God and man’, the public reaction against Richard might allow the duke to sweep to power himself.
The duke’s own reasoning was perhaps rather more prosaic. If Richard fell, Buckingham knew that he would
fall with him; it would be impossible to countenance his survival in a new regime given the role he had played as Richard’s right-hand man in the usurpation. It may have been that Buckingham, understanding the scale of the rebellion and the support it was gathering from both loyal Yorkists and Lancastrians such as Edward Courtenay, may have decided to throw his lot in with the rebels before it was too late. It was also apparent that Henry’s claim to the throne was being widely spoken of; the Great Chronicle of London recorded how ‘word sprang quickly of a Gentlemen being in the parts of Brittany named Henry and son unto the Earl of Richmond’. If Henry was already emerging as the strongest candidate to challenge Richard’s crown, even if Buckingham considered his own claim to be stronger, it would be politic to hide his own private ambitions for now.
The influence of Morton upon Buckingham should also not be discounted. Sir Thomas More, who admired Morton as ‘a man of great natural wit, very well learned and honourable in behaviour, lacking no wise ways to win favour’, suggests that the bishop induced Buckingham to turn against the king, reminding him of his Lancastrian heritage and that the only way to bring an end to civil discord that had plagued the country for so long was for the strongest Lancastrian claimant, Henry Tudor, to seek the throne, finally placating the Yorkists by marrying Elizabeth of York.
Of course, there is no reason why Buckingham could not have reached a decision through a combination of his own instincts for self-preservation and Morton’s entreaties. Either way, recognising the need to make a decision and perhaps giving himself the opportunity to later influence the Tudor claimant, Buckingham decided on Morton’s advice to send a message to Henry, ‘inviting him to hasten into the Kingdom of England as fast as he could reach the shore to take Elizabeth, the dead king’s elder daughter, to wife and with her, at the same time, possession of the kingdom’. According to the attainder of the rebels passed in the Parliament of January 1484, Buckingham had ‘on the 24th September by his several writings and messages by him sent, procured and moved Henry calling himself Earl of Richmond and Jasper late Earl of Pembroke being there in Brittany, great enemies of our sovereign lord, to make a great navy and bring with them an army from Brittany’.
As soon as Margaret heard news of Buckingham’s defection she recalled Urswick; in his place she sent Hugh Conway, a former servant of Edward IV since 1465, who had married a younger sister of the Lancastrian Earl of Devon who had been executed in 1461. Conway also had an affinity with the Stanley family, coming from north-west Wales with his father taking one of the Stanley’s relatives as his second wife; with connections to both Queen Elizabeth and Margaret, given his role at the Yorkist court together with his own family background steeped in Lancastrian heritage, he was perhaps the perfect agent to be sent to Henry to convince him of the prospect of a union between the two houses. Conway took with him ‘a good great sum of money’ raised by Margaret, and was ordered to urge Henry to make ready his return as soon as he possibly could, advising the earl ‘to arrive in Wales, where he should find aid in readiness’. At the same time, to be sure that the message reached Henry, Richard Guildford and Thomas Rameney were also sent to Brittany, embarking from the Kentish coast. All three messengers, ‘having speedy passage’, arrived at the Breton court at the same time where they found Henry ‘at his own liberty’ at Francis’s court.
As soon as he heard the news, Henry ‘rejoicing wondrously’ immediately gave thanks to God. He then approached Duke Francis, to whom he explained ‘all things’ with him, ‘showing that he had conceived an assured hope of obtaining the realm of England, and prayed therefore that the same might be brought about both by his good help and assent’. In return, Henry promised, ‘which when so ever ability should serve he would not fail to requite’.
In spite of the money that Thomas Hutton’s mission had recently gifted him, together with Hutton’s own pleadings that Henry should be placed ‘again into ward’, Francis agreed to aid Henry ‘and willingly gave it’. With his neighbour France in a weakened state as a result of the minority of the new king, Charles VII, Francis felt confident enough to lend his support to Tudor’s mission. He had also turned against Richard, who had so far refused to acknowledge his demands for 4,000 archers to be sent to his kingdom as a condition for peace; it is likely that Henry would have promised him this, and indeed anything else he demanded, in return for his support. Francis must have regarded any financial aid given now as an investment which, if Henry’s invasion proved a success, would be returned in spades. There were perhaps more personal reasons touching Francis’s own fragile dynasty within the duchy that had influenced his decision. In particular, he had been resentful of Richard’s decision to depose Edward V, who since 1481 had been pledged to marry his daughter and heiress apparent Anne. The removal and disappearance of the young king had in consequence destroyed Francis’s own careful plans for his dynasty.
While Henry began to prepare to launch a fleet across the Channel, Francis made a considerable financial commitment to the invasion, totalling some 13,000 crowns, in addition to providing a fleet of seven ships manned with around 515 men. His accounts reveal a detailed breakdown of the payments made to those who were to set sail with Henry ‘a devoir faire le passaige des sires de Richemont et de Penbroc en Englettere’; he paid 513 livre tournois 6s 9d to Pierre Guillaume, ‘master of a pinace of St Malo’ weighing forty tons and with forty combatants, ‘to make the passage of the Lords of Richmond and Pembroke to England’ serving between 1 September to 30 November. Jean Le Barbu, master of the barque belonging to Alain de la Motte, sire de Fontaines and vice-admiral of Brittany, was paid 720 livre tournois for his vessel weighing 60 tons and with 60 combatants, serving from 1 September to 29 November. Derien le Du, captain of the ship La Margarite from Brest, weighing 160 tons and with 98 men on board was paid 1,227 livre tournois 12s, while Jean Pero, captain of the ship La Michelle from Auray, complete with 75 men and active from 13 September was paid 975 livre tournois. Another resident from Auray was Geoffrey Estrillart, the town’s receiver since 1474, who had equipped his ship, the Marie of Auray weighing 90 tons with 69 combatants, and sailed from 14 September to 30 November, was paid 852 livre tournois 10s 9d. Louis Berthelot, the captain of the ship La Tresoriere from St Malo, sailing with 50 combatants, was also reimbursed for 200 livre tournois. Finally, while Henry was gathering his fleet together on 30 October at the fishing town of Paimpol, on the north coast of Brittany, Duke Francis’s men arrived with a loan of 10,000 crowns.
It was a ‘prosperous wind’ that saw off the fifteen ships that accompanied Henry on his journey to England; mid-voyage, it had turned into a ‘cruel gale’ as a ‘sudden tempest’ scattered the fleet, each being separated ‘from one way from another’ so that some were blown back onto the Normandy coast, others into Brittany. Henry’s own ship was ‘tossed all the night long with the waves’. As dawn broke and the wind calmed, the chalk cliffs of the south coast and the haven of Poole harbour came into view. Shaken by the storms and their sleepless night, in the gloom of morning light the devastating impact of the storm was revealed: only Henry’s and one other vessel had made it through the night. As the ships drew closer to the shore, there was even worse news. The shoreline was ‘beset with soldiers’ from Richard’s army. Henry commanded that no man should land until the rest of the fleet had time to regroup. In the meantime, he sent across several men in a single skiff to the shore to find out the identity of the guards. Navigating the boat out to within hailing distance of the soldiers who, encouraging them to land, called out that they had been ‘sent by the Duke of Buckingham to escort Henry to the camp, which he had nearby with his flourishing army, so that they could join forces and pursue the fleeing Richard’.
When the boat returned, passing on the message, Henry instantly suspected a trick. Despite waiting for the remainder of his fleet, after several hours it was clear that nothing was coming into view. Deciding to abandon the venture, the two ships hoisted sail on the back of a strong wind. It was only when, the f
ollowing day, having been battered by storms that forced him to land, miles away from his intended destination, at St Vaast-la-Hougue on the Cotentin Peninsula in Normandy, that Henry learnt that the rebellion had been ruthlessly crushed and the Duke of Buckingham executed.
Richard had remained on his royal progress, passing through Pontefract and Gainsborough, reaching Lincoln on 11 October. It was here that he received the astounding news ‘by means of spies’ that not only was a chain of revolts about to break out across the country, but also that his most powerful nobleman the Duke of Buckingham was about to join the rebellion. Stunned by the revelation, Richard wrote to Chancellor Russell, calling for the immediate delivery of the Great Seal. Russell had been unwell, and had informed the king that due to ‘such infirmities and diseases’ he would be unable to travel on the progress himself. Yet Russell had retained the Great Seal, the official stamp of royal authority, in his possession. If Richard were to raise a large army of men, he would need to send out a summons whose validity could only be confirmed by the wax stamp of the Great Seal appended to any document. He needed the seal urgently. Writing to Russell, demanding that the stamp of the seal be sent to him as soon as possible, a postscript at the bottom of the letter, written in Richard’s own hand, could barely disguise the king’s disbelief and disgust at his former friend Buckingham’s treason:
We would most gladly ye came yourself if ye may, and if ye may not We pray you not to fail but to accomplish in all diligence our said commandment to send our seal incontinent upon the sight hereof … praying you to ascertain Us of your news. Here loved be God is all well and truly determined and for to resist the malice of him that had best cause to be true, the Duke of Buckingham, the most untrue creature living whom with God’s grace we shall not be long till we will be in that part and subdue his malice. We assure you there was never false traitor better provided for …
Bosworth: The Birth of the Tudors Page 18