by Linda Simon
No-thyng ther-in ys stable,
A-say now, ho-so wyll.
Syn yt ys so mutable,
how shuld men be stable?
yt may not be thorow skyll![113]
When Margaret Beaufort watched her son become king, she thought of the three kings she had seen fall: Henry VI, by his own mishandling of the onus of kingship; Edward IV, by his frivolous dissipation; Richard III, by his fateful miscalculations. She remembered the misfortunes of her own father and of her guardian, the earl of Suffolk. She knew that her son had been able to triumph only after another woman and her son, Margaret of Anjou and Edward, had failed. She believed that Henry was close to her in spirit. Because he had been disillusioned early, as she had, he would live with disillusion for his entire life. She sensed in her son a calm and an integrity that previous monarchs in her lifetime had not had.
Musyng uppon the mutabilite
off worldye changes & grett unstableness,
& me remembering howe grett adversite
I have seen fall to men off highe noblenes —
furst welthe, and then egeyn distres,
nowe uppe, nowe downe, as fortune turnethe hur whele,
Best is, me thinke, for mannys sikernes
to trust In god & labour to doo well.
Wee nede not nowe to seke the cronicles olde
off the romans, nor bockas tragedye,
to rede the ruyen & fallys manyffolde
off prynces grett, putt to dethe & myserye
In sondrye landes, for wee have hardelye
here In thys lande with-In the xx yere
as wonders changes seen before our eye
as ever I trowe before thys any were.[114]
Henry was careful about those to whom he gave his trust and generous with those who had proven their loyalty. One of his first acts as king was to grant a pension to his old Welsh nurse. Quickly, he lifted the attainders on his mother; his uncle, Jasper Tudor; Edward Stafford, the young son of the late duke of Buckingham; and Elizabeth Woodville.
Now in control of her own property, Margaret found her wealth and influence to be considerable. Her son augmented that wealth by grants made in the first two years of his reign. On August 3, 1486, he gave his mother the wardship of Edward Stafford and his brother Henry, worth five hundred marks per year. In addition, she received £1000 per year out of the lordships of Holderness for the children’s “governaunce and supervision.” On October 11, Henry made a grant “for life to Margaret Beaufort of the right of nomination and appointing the steward, receiver, bailiff, parker and all other officers within the king’s lordship of Ware, Co. Hertford.” She chose the faithful Reginald Bray as her steward general; other officers were picked from among Henry’s supporters at Bosworth.
On March 22, 1487, Henry issued a grant for life to his mother of castles, lordships, and manors in many areas, including Devon, Somersetshire, Hertfordshire, Derbyshire, Yorkshire, and Northamptonshire. The generous grant comprised some fifty valuable properties.[115]
Not only were grants made that would provide her with income; land was given in her name to religious orders. On March 12, 1486, at Margaret’s special request, a grant was made to one William, abbot of the monastery of Ss. Peter and Paul at Bourne, County Lincoln, for a nearby manor and its property.
Jasper was created duke of Bedford, and in the fall of 1485 married Katherine Woodville, twenty-eight, the widow of the duke of Buckingham and the youngest sister of Elizabeth Woodville.
Stanley was most amply rewarded for his support at Bosworth. Estates between Manchester and Bury, and in several sites in Lancashire, were added to his already large holdings. At the end of October 1485 he was created earl of Derby. In March 1486 he was made constable of England, high steward of the duchy of Lancaster, and constable of Halton Castle, Cheshire. His son George, Lord Strange, the eldest surviving son of his first marriage with Eleanor Neville, was rewarded for his loyalty by being made a knight of the Garter and a privy councilor.
John Morton, returned from exile to attend the coronation, became chancellor of England in March 1486 and toward the end of that year acceded to the post of archbishop of Canterbury. In 1493 he became a cardinal. He was a close adviser to the king, especially helpful in matters of finances. He was said to have devised a foolproof method of procuring funds from Henry’s subjects, “persuading prodigals to part with their money, because they did spend it most; and the covetous, because they might spare it best; so making both extremes to meet in one medium, to supply the king’s necessities.”[116]
Reginald Bray was created a knight of the Bath, and then a knight of the Garter. He was appointed constable of Oakham Castle, member of the privy council, high treasurer and chancellor of the duchy of Lancaster. An architect as well as a statesman, he designed the chapel of St. George at Windsor Castle and Henry’s private chapel at Westminster, where the royal family would someday be buried.
In January 1486, five months after his reign began, Henry at last married Elizabeth of York. Despite Humphrey Brereton’s romantic ballad, the two had not been lovers before Henry went into exile. Elizabeth was just six years old then, and most probably never saw Henry. In the first months of his reign, Henry became acquainted with the woman his mother had chosen to be his wife and seemed to find her congenial.
Proof of her fertility may have postponed the marriage for those months, a delay that has long puzzled historians. While Elizabeth, as a Yorkist, had been extremely useful in enabling Henry to claim the throne, she would be far less useful if she was unable to begin the dynasty of which Henry and his mother dreamed. By the time the nuptials were performed, Elizabeth was probably already pregnant. The populace of England, almost giddy over the romance, looked forward to the royal marriage.
Because the pair were distantly related, a bull was issued by Pope Innocent, sanctioning the marriage. A Latin epithalamium was written to commemorate the event, and an anthem was sung, concluding:
God save king Henrie, whereso’ever he be,
And for queene Elizabeth now pray wee,
And for all her noble progenye;
God save the church of Christ from any follie,
And for queene Elizabeth now pray wee.[117]
The nuptial feast was appropriately elegant. A first course of twenty-three dishes included hart, pheasant, swan, capons, lamprey, crane, pike, heron, carp, kid, perch, mutton, custard, tart, and fruits. A subtlety was then brought out for the admiration of the diners, accompanied by the singing of ballads. A second course included peacock, cock, partridge, sturgeon, rabbit, egret, quail, lark, venison, quince, cold baked meat, and concluded with another subtlety and another round of songs.
Guests — except for the ascetic Margaret Beaufort — relished the elaborately sauced and spiced dishes. Venison was cut into strips and cooked in a sauce of milk, egg yolk, sugar, and salt. Soups were made of ground almonds, beef or fish broth, sweet wine, ground capon, milk of almonds and sugar. There were stews of chopped roast pork, fried onions, beef broth, pepper, cinnamon, cloves, and mace; of capon, strong wine, cinnamon, pine cones, sugar, cloves, almonds, ginger, salt, and saffron. Some of the pulpy mixtures were poured into a pastry shell, covered with dates and raisins, glazed with egg yolk, and baked.
For display, a peacock was cleaned, roasted, then arranged on a platter with its feathers fanned open. The top half of a capon was sewn to the bottom half of a pig, and the whole stuffed with eggs, bread crumbs, salt, saffron, pepper, and suet. The “cokyntryce,” as it was called, was then roasted on a spit, basted with egg yolk, powdered ginger, and saffron. Sweets, fruits, and nuts followed, with some diners preferring hard cheese, supposed helpful in preventing constipation.
The feast itself was conducted according to rigid prescription. Servants had been instructed from a manual, “How to Serve a Lord,” that permitted no deviation. Tablecloths and napkins were “clenely clene and redy according to the tyme.” Basins for the rinsing of greasy fingers, pitchers, platters for bread, spoons, saltcellars,
and carving knives (for suckling pig or whole roast kid) were on hand. The dishes were served in strict order, with heron following crane, and rabbit following pigeon, not the reverse.
The sovereign was served first from a dish of silver or gold plate. Then the guests were given their fare, “after ther degree.” When the meal was ended, three or four hours after the first platter was borne to the table, the staff had to take up “all manner of thynge,” including the trestles and stools that had served as banquet tables and seats. They were hardly done before requests came for bread and wine, the “all night,” to stave off hunger until morning. This small repast was offered on bended knee to knights and ladies.[118]
*
After the wedding feast Margaret accompanied Elizabeth to the king’s residence at Winchester, where the bride was to spend her confinement. Winchester Castle was chosen because it was said to have been built by King Arthur, and Henry had decided that his firstborn must be steeped in tradition.
From the moment of the marriage, Margaret took over the running of the household in every detail, composing her “Ordinances as to what preparation is to be made against the deliverance of a queen as also for the christening of the child of which she shall be delivered.” The edict left nothing in doubt. Margaret saw to it that Elizabeth’s chamber was arranged according to traditionally accepted modes of confinement. The queen was quite literally confined. Her room had only one window through which light and air could enter. All other windows were hung with thick cloths. When the birth was imminent, the young mother was kept from any visitors except the women who would see her through the delivery. She was permitted no visits at all from men.
The birth was explained as having come several weeks earlier than expected, and all the court whispered fearfully over the fate of what they thought was an eighth-month child. Superstition held that the eighth month was more precarious for birth than the seventh. But the child, born on September 19, 1486, was a healthy, fair-haired boy. Henry Tudor gave his heir the evocative Welsh name of Arthur. “Yet some men say in many parts of England that King Arthur is not dead,” Malory had written, “but had by the will of our Lord Jesu into another; and men say that he shall come again …”
The child’s birth was magnificently celebrated. Trumpeters and minstrels paraded through the streets, and poets sharpened their nibs.
“I love the rose both red & white.”
“Is that your pure perfite appetite?”
“To here talke of them is my delite!”
“Joyed may we be, oure prince to se,
& rosys thre!”[119]
With Henry the red rose and Elizabeth the white, Arthur was dubbed the “rosebush of England,” from whom the new Tudor line would emanate.
Margaret Beaufort immediately took charge of her grandchild’s care, a task that was more pleasure than duty. Elizabeth developed an illness after the birth; it has been described as ague[120] but may have been related to a strange outbreak in the fall of that year.
A newe kynde of sicknes came soldenly through the whole region … which was so sore, so peynfull, & sharp that the lyke was never harde of, to any manes remembraunce before that tyme: For sodenly a dedly burnyng sweate invaded their bodyes & vexed their bloud with a most ardent heat, infested the stomack & the head grevously: by the tormentyng and vexacion of which sicknes, men were so sore handled & so painfully pangued that if they were layed in their bed, beyng not hable to suffre the importunate heat, they cast away the shetes & all the clothes lying on the bed.[121]
Two mayors of London succumbed to the disease within a few days, and some citizens, seemingly recovered after twenty-four hours, relapsed once, or even twice, and then died. Physicians were perplexed but eventually came upon a method of treatment: lukewarm baths, moderate heat, moderate covering. Absolute rest for twenty-four hours was required.
For new diseases or old, physicians’ remedies were few and their methods of diagnosis even fewer. Most diagnosis was made by analysis of urine, with color being matched to the gradations on an annotated chart. Red urine signified fever; pale urine meant indigestion; saffron-colored urine indicated jaundice; thick, reddish, milky urine signified gout. Instructions to physicians directed their eye to the various attributes of a urine sample that could indicate the presence of disease; the examiner had to be aware of color, texture, sediment, froth, and, of course, the appearance of blood.
Too much blood was believed to be the cause of much disease, and blood-letting was consequently a much-used treatment. Blood-letting was thought to effect wondrous results: it would clear the brain, strengthen the memory, purify the stomach, sharpen hearing, dry tears, dispel anxiety — even produce a musical voice.[122] But physicians were cautioned that blood-letting must be done with care, and always according to certain indications of the calendar, corresponding to signs of the zodiac. Ideally, certain incisions were not to be made at all in certain months; ideally, blood-letting should be done at the new moon. But medieval physicians rarely worked under ideal conditions.
Gradually, with little medical intervention, the strange sweating-sickness of 1486 abated, but it was, predictably, seen as a sign “that kyng Henry should have a harde and sore beginning, but more truly … it pretended & signified that kyng Henry to the extreme poynte and ende of his naturall life should hever have his spirite and mynde quyet …”[123]
The infant was protected, as far as possible, from the disease. Arthur saw little of his mother but spent his days in the wooden cradle, some forty-five inches long and twenty-two inches wide, that his grandmother had ordered for him from the court’s carpenters. The frame was elaborately painted, and it was lined with cloth of gold, ermine, and crimson velvet. Three women were assigned to care for him: Elizabeth Darcy served as mistress, Agnes Butler and Emlyn Hobbes as rockers. Each was paid a bit over thirty-three shillings for half a year. His grandmother, guided by a physician, prescribed and ordered his nurses’ diet and provided for tasters to sample the dishes before they were served to the women who suckled the prince.
The baptism was likewise prescribed in detail by Margaret. Arthur was to be given a small candle to carry to the altar. Two hundred torches were to be carried in procession before the infant; twenty-four were borne by squires. The torches were lighted after the ceremony; then the candle was lighted and presented by the child at the altar, with the king’s donation to the church.[124] Thomas Stanley stood as godfather to his wife’s grandson. Elizabeth Woodville, the mother of the queen, stood as godmother.
Though Margaret was supreme in the household of Henry VII, she could no longer control and manipulate political affairs as she had before Bosworth. Henry was indeed condemned to a life in which his spirit and mind could never rest. From the first days of his reign, he was concerned with security, and created a special contingent of fifty men, the yeomen of the guard. Half were armed with bows and arrows, the others with a new weapon, the harquebus, an innovation in forearms; it was ignited with a match and in shape was suggestive of a crossbow.
The position of yeoman was not new, but Henry’s transformation of the office to that of personal bodyguard had no precedent. Edward IV’s yeomen had been servants and valets, twenty-four of the “most semely persones, clenely and strongest archers, honest of condicions and of behavoure, bold men, chosen and tryed out of every lordes house in Ynglond for theyre cunning and vertew. Thereof one to be yoman of the robes, another to be yoman of the wardrobe of beddis in houshold … another to be yoman of the stole … another to be yoman of the armory; another to be yoman of the bowes for the king; another to kepe the kinges bookes; another to kepe his dogges for the bo we …”[125] Apparently the requirement that they be able soldiers was made only to weed out any who might be disloyal. Though they were sometimes sent out as ambassadors or to aid in arrests, their duties were domestic rather than military. They did not need special strength to deal with Edward’s pet dog. The larger animals, lions and leopards, which were sometimes received as gifts from foreign rulers
, were kept in a zoo in the Tower.
Henry’s yeomen were to guard the king day and night, permitting no one who appeared suspicious to gain access to him. They acted as the king’s messengers and general servants, and kept watch outside his bedchamber, making a search every fifteen minutes for arson, noise, treachery, threats — in short, anything that might harm the king.
They had special uniforms of white and green, damask jackets embroidered front and back with vine branches, decorated with silver and gold spangles. Central to the decoration was a red rose. Though the yeomen were strong, brave, and loyal, they could not forecast or prevent insurrection, or stop the progress of a pretender to the throne.
In May 1487, Lambert Simnel, a ten-year-old student of Richard Symons, a priest, claimed to be Clarence’s son, Edward, the earl of Warwick, and therefore the rightful heir to the crown. Symons taught his charge well and then took him to Ireland, where he knew the nobility were unsympathetic to Henry. On May 24, in Dublin, Simnel was crowned King Edward VI.
Not even the remaining loyal Yorkists, who still waited for a chance to overthrow the king, believed that Simnel was the true heir. But they were willing to use his presence as an excuse to begin a rebellion. With the support of Edward IV’s sister Margaret, the duchess of Burgundy, they assembled troops and met in battle with the king’s forces on June 11, near the town of Stoke.
The Yorkist troops, reinforced by German mercenaries, were formidable opposition to the Tudor army, but the king was triumphant. Both Symons and Simnel were captured, but neither was executed. Believing Simnel to be essentially harmless, Henry pardoned him and gave him a small position in the royal household, first in the kitchen, then as falconer. The dissident Yorkist captains were slain. The lands of the earl of Lincoln were given over to the king’s mother.
The king had survived more than two years of his reign when the Simnel affair was suppressed. Finally, Henry decided to crown his queen. The delay in the coronation may have been due partly to the queen’s pregnancy and recovery from her subsequent illness, but that would not have postponed the ceremony for two years. There may have been another pregnancy, perhaps ended by miscarriage, which prevented Elizabeth from appearing in public. Or perhaps Henry waited, vigilant as ever, to be sure of his own power as king before he made a prominent display of his Yorkist wife.