Henry VII

Alexander Grant

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2006
• ISBN:
  9781134954063
• Edition: 1
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: World History
• Index: History

The importance of Henry VII is the subject of heated debate. Did his reign mark the start of a new era, or was its prevailing characteristic continunity with the past? The pamphlet:
· emphasizes the lasting political stability established during the reign
· demonstrates the difference between Henry's policies and those of the Yorkists
· shows how successors built on Henry's legacy
· argues that victory at Bosworth in 1485 can be seen as initiating a genunine 'Tudor revolution in government'.

Henry VII

The importance of his reign in English history

Introduction

This pamphlet was written in 1985, the year which marks the five hundredth anniversary of Henry Tudor’s seizure of the English throne from Richard III at the battle of Bosworth. For most of those five hundred years this event, the accession of the first Tudor monarch, has been regarded as one of the major turning-points in English history; and, indeed, that idea is reflected nowadays in the fact that history courses are still commonly devoted to ‘the Tudors’ or ‘the Tudors and Stewarts’, especially in schools. Yet, at the same time, the standard academic view of Henry VII attaches relatively little significance to his being the first of the Tudors. The traditional ‘turning-point’ view has been almost entirely discredited; continuity with his Yorkist predecessors, especially Edward IV, is widely considered to be the main characteristic of the reign. The result is to make 1485 an extremely awkward starting-point, especially for those who have not studied the period previously.

During the last ten years or so, however, the strength of what we can call the ‘continuity thesis’ about Henry’s reign has been weakened by a substantial amount of new research, especially that by Professor Charles Ross on Edward IV. In Professor Ross’s view, Edward IV ‘should not be too readily regarded as a Mk I version of Henry VII. The difference in their personalities is profound, and the differences between their policies are hardly less important than the resemblances’ (22). Other recent work, too, indicates that there was much more of a break between Henry VII and his Yorkist predecessors than the current textbook orthodoxy would allow. Indeed, when the differences between Edward IV’s and Henry VII’s kingship are put into a long-term perspective, then a case can be made for regarding Henry VII’s accession as a most important turning-point after all – and certainly as a sensible point for beginning a period of English history.

Any discussion of the place of Henry VII’s reign in English history must start by looking at it in relation to the ‘Wars of the Roses’ – the sequence of civil wars which broke out in 1455 and lasted until Henry defeated the forces of the Yorkist pretender Lambert Simnel at the battle of Stoke in 1487. It is, of course, generally agreed that Henry’s two victories, first at Bosworth and then at Stoke, brought the civil wars to an end. Yet the current orthodoxy tends to play down the seriousness of these wars, their coherence as a continuous conflict and the significance of their ending.

Recent studies, however, show that this is a mistake. Various points could be made about the Wars of the Roses, but here there is only space to stress the main one: that from the 1450s to the 1480s the English crown was far more vulnerable than at any time since the Norman Conquest. Henry VII’s four predecessors – Henry VI, Edward IV, Edward V and Richard III – all lost their thrones, in three cases permanently; during the period the crown changed hands violently no fewer than five times; and there were also several unsuccessful rebellions and attempted coups d’état. Successful or unsuccessful, the rebellions and coups d’état were all stimulated, in the last resort, by the fact that it seemed remarkably easy to unseat the king; in this period, indeed, England appears very similar to the notoriously unstable states of Latin America in modern times. It is this instability, sparked off by the rebellions of Richard duke of York (Edward IV’s father) in the 1450s and lasting until Henry VII’s reign, which gives the main coherence and significance to the concept of the Wars of the Roses.

Now, admittedly, Henry VII’s accession did not restore stability to England overnight. After Bosworth the battle of Stoke still had to be fought; after Stoke there were other ‘Yorkist’ conspiracies; and after Henry VII’s death the legacy of instability lingered on under Henry VIII. What was at times a near-paranoid concern for security was, indeed, one of the main characteristics of the reigns of the first two Tudors. Nevertheless, the vital point is that, in striking contrast to his predecessors, Henry VII did keep his throne. There may have been rebellions and conspiracies after 1485, but that was when the last successful one took place. After 1485 – after Henry VII’s accession – all rebellions and conspiracies were crushed. So, despite the Tudors’ worries about security (or perhaps, as we shall see, partly because of them), it is clear with hindsight that after Henry Tudor became king the English crown ceased to be so vulnerable. In view of the political upheavals of the period before 1485, this point can hardly be emphasized enough.

The military factor

It is one thing to emphasize that with Henry VII’s reign a much higher degree of political stability was established in England, quite another to explain why that happened. There is no one straightforward answer to that question; instead, a variety of factors needs to be examined.

To begin with, we must consider military affairs; the throne had to be won in 1485 and defended thereafter. Although Henry VII is not renowned as a warrior king, he did in fact have a very good military record. In 1485, for example, the campaign leading up to Bosworth was quick and decisive; he led his forces from Milford Haven in Pembrokeshire into Leicestershire, in the heart of England, in less than a fortnight, so giving Richard III as little time as possible to react. And while what happened in the actual battle is not entirely clear, recent studies indicate (20, 23) that the Tudor army took the field very early in the morning, and caught Richard III’s forces at a distinct disadvantage. Admittedly the eventual victory came when part of the Stanley forces, which had been watching on the sidelines, joined in on Henry’s side. But that was not simply luck. First, ‘Lord Stanley was Henry’s stepfather (the third husband of Henry’s mother Margaret Beaufort), and Henry had been in close contact with him before and after invading England; Henry was clearly relying on Stanley support. The Stanleys’ treachery to Richard was not, therefore, unexpected; possibly the only surprise for Henry was the unpleasant one that they did not commit themselves until the battle was well under way. Second, when the Stanleys did join in it was probably because they saw the battle was going Henry’s way. Earlier Henry’s vanguard had engaged Richard’s, had driven it back and had killed its commander. That was crucial, because it made Richard decide on his desperate, poorly supported cavalry charge against Henry’s personal position – and it was that which persuaded the Stanleys to join what almost certainly appeared to be the winning side. The victory at Bosworth, therefore, should be attributed as much to the successes of Henry’s own forces as to the Stanley intervention. (A comment is needed here on the military significance of the Stanleys. Since the early fifteenth century they had been the dominant local family in Cheshire and south Lancashire, an area which throughout the later middle ages had been one of the main suppliers of troops for English armies. As a result they probably had larger and more experienced forces at their disposal than almost any of the other English magnates.)

Similarly, subsequent military challenges to Henry’s rule were dealt with by speedy, intelligent and effective action. Although some historians state that the one other battle of the reign, at Stoke (near Newark, Lincolnshire) in 1487 was a near thing, that is not true. In fact, the royal army dealt with its opponents, the forces supporting Lambert Simnel and John de la Pole, earl of Lincoln, quite comfortably – ‘without deaths of any noble or gentleman on our part’, as Henry himself put it. Only part of Henry’s army needed to fight at Stoke; not, as has been suggested, because the rest was untrustworthy, but because, just as at Bosworth, Henry deliberately entrusted the main brunt of the fighting to his vanguard, while he himself stayed sensibly (and this time safely) in the rear. The vanguard clearly consisted of an elite force, based on Henry’s household and led by good, experienced commanders (20), in particular John de Vere, earl of Oxford, who commanded it at Bosworth and Stoke, and who had earlier gained one of the best military reputations among the Lancastrian leaders in the Wars of the Roses. One feature of all Henry’s campaigns is that he always chose his subordinate commanders wisely – which, of course, is one of the signs of a good commander-in-chief.

Thus Henry won and kept his throne partly at least because he was successful, and probably good, at military affairs. There is a striking contrast with Richard III’s ultimately suicidal behaviour at Bosworth. Also, Henry’s military record contrasts significantly with Edward IV’s. Edward is generally praised as a military leader, and he did win several great victories. But he also twice found himself completely outmanoeuvred by opponents – to such an extent that on both occasions his own troops deserted him. In 1469 he was captured; in 1470 he fled the country. That kind of thing never happened to Henry VII who, unlike Edward, always appears to have been in control of whatever military situation confronted him.

Internal security

Henry’s success in keeping the throne is not, however, to be explained purely in military terms. Another major factor was his ability to nip conspiracies in the bud or, at worst, limit challenges to his rule; again there is a significant contrast with his predecessors. That was largely the result of a good ‘intelligence service’ from agents and informers (both voluntary and involuntary), and also of an acute awareness of its value. Admittedly, agents and informers did not appear overnight in 1485, yet in earlier reigns they do not seem to have been so effective. For example, Edward IV was taken completely by surprise in 1469 and 1470 by rebellions instigated by the great Richard Neville, earl of Warwick (sometimes known as ‘the Kingmaker’), and by his own brother, the duke of Clarence. Richard III, similarly, did not discover about Lord Stanley’s treasonable dealings with Henry Tudor until too late – and when he did, he did not take effective action. Edward IV and Richard III either failed to make the best use of the information available to them, or did not receive very good information in the first place. Both kings certainly seem to have been too complacent at crucial periods in their reigns.

Henry VII was also perhaps rather complacent to begin with. The Lambert Simnel conspiracy (in which the young son of an Oxford joiner impersonated the earl of Warwick, a nephew of the Yorkist kings) had probably been in preparation for some time before he learned about it, and when he did his intelligence was faulty, for no steps were taken against the earl of Lincoln in February 1487. Indeed, Lincoln, genuinely and menacingly Yorkist by birth, attended the meeting of the royal council which debated what to do about Simnel. When Lincoln joined Simnel, it must have been a painful blow to Henry – but one which he never suffered again. Thereafter, the activities of agents and informers are a notable feature of the reign. Henry’s ‘intelligence policy’ is very well illustrated by a document from his son’s reign, in which one of Cardinal Wolsey’s agents, investigating allegations against the duke of Buckingham in 1521, reported:

And so, if it please your grace, of likelihood some great matter there is… Very good policy it were to have the truth known. The king that dead is [Henry VII] would handle such a cause circumspectly and with convenient diligence for inveigling, and yet not disclose it to the party … but keep it to himself, and always grope further. (29)

The value to Henry of agents and informers comes out clearly from the Perkin Warbeck affair. Warbeck claimed to be the younger of Edward IV’s sons, the ‘Princes in the Tower,’ but details of his true identity – he was from Flanders, a son of an official in Tournai – were quickly revealed, and when a conspiracy in his favour was hatched in England in 1493 it was soon uncovered. One of the conspirators turned king’s evidence (or had been in Henry’s employment all along); on his information the rest of the plotters were rounded up, tried and executed or imprisoned during the winter of 1494–5. Similarly, while Warbeck was in Scotland in 1496–7, important information about his activities and English contacts was provided by a prominent Scottish noble who was in Henry’s pay. None of Warbeck’s attempts to invade England ever came to anything; credit for that must go at least partly to Henry’s ability to collect information and make good use of it.

The most striking victim of Henry’s ‘intelligence service’ was Sir William Stanley, the person who had brought the Stanley forces in on Henry’s side at Bosworth. Sir William and his brother Thomas Lord Stanley had been well rewarded for that, and Sir William had become head of Henry’s household (private staff and bodyguard). In 1494, however, he was named among those involved with Perkin Warbeck; and although all that he could be accused of was agreeing not to oppose Warbeck if Warbeck were the true son of Edward IV, that was enough to bring about his trial, conviction and execution in February 1495. Some historians have argued that Stanley – who did not have the benefit of hindsight – was simply taking out a sensible insurance against a further change of dynasty. But that misses the point. Henry VII, unlike his predecessors, was not prepared to tolerate Stanley ambivalence. The fact that he would not take the risk of a repetition of Sir William Stanley’s treachery towards Richard III helps to explain why he succeeded in keeping the throne for his own dynasty. Stanley’s lack of absolute loyalty would have been doubly alarming in view of the fact that the household provided the essential core of the royal army.

The other main victim of Henry’s concern for security was the much more tragic figure of Edward earl of Warwick. Warwick was the son of Edward IV’s treacherous brother, the duke of Clarence (who had been put to death in 1478). Soon after Henry VII’s accession, Warwick (then only ten years old) was imprisoned in the Tower of London; he stayed there for the rest of his life. In the Tower Warwick was hardly a threat to Henry, but things might have been different had he escaped, given that he was a true member of the Yorkist royal family, in contrast to the pretenders Simnel and Warbeck. At any rate, shortly after Perkin Warbeck joined him in the Tower in 1498, Henry’s agents discovered – or perhaps fabricated – a plot to free both of them. Warwick was duly charged with treasonable conspiracy, which he admitted, and he was beheaded in November 1499; Perkin Warbeck was hanged two days later.

There was, of course, nothing new about executing magnates in fifteenth-century England; indeed, many more of them went to the scaffold under Henry VI or Edward IV than under Henry VII. But the executions in the previous reigns were all carried out by the victorious party in the aftermath of rebellions and coups d’état; there seems to be no immediate precedent for such cold-blooded ‘pre-emptive strikes’ as the executions of the earl of Warwick and Sir William Stanley. These can be called ‘precautionary executions’ – executions intended to deal with trouble before it took place rather than afterwards. As such they indicate a much more acute concern for security than Edward IV exhibited. And that is something which characterizes the reign as a whole. Henry’s concern for security has been interpreted by some historians as reflecting a basic insecurity in his regime. But it would be more apt to say that he was not prepared to take any chances at all of suffering the experiences of his four predecessors. The result may well have been to make him obsessively conscious of security. On the other hand, that also goes a long way towards explaining why Henry VII, in contrast to his predecessors, was ultimately successful in keeping the throne for himself and for his dynasty.

The royal family

Another of the reasons why the throne did not change hands violently after 1485 is that Henry VII’s regime was not seriously weakened at its very heart by the affairs of the immediate royal family, in the way that the Yorkist regime had been. Before 1485, indeed, rivalries and quarrels within the royal family had been largely responsible for destabilizing and, in the end, destroying Yorkist kingship; but they did not weaken Henry VII’s kingship at all.

In the first part of Edward IV’s reign, for instance, resentment against his queen, Elizabeth Woodville, and her grasping kindred was one of the main grievances which turned both Richard Neville, earl of Warwick, and Edward’s brother, the duke of Clarence, against the king in 1469–70. Then, after Edward’s restoration in 1471 (when Neville was killed), Clarence stupidly continued to cause trouble, until at last Edward had to have him put to death for ‘incorrigible treason’ in 1478. Third, when Edward himself died in 1483, the usurpation of his young son’s throne by his other brother, Richard duke of Gloucester – Richard III – is at least partly explicable in terms of Yorkist family politics. Many of those who supported Gloucester’s coup d’état, especially in its early stages, did so out of hatred for the Woodville kindred, who had dominated the affairs of the young king when he had been prince of Wales. Some, too, had a vested interest in the downfall of both of Edward IV’s sons, because Edward IV had unjustly manipulated the descent of the great inheritance of the Mowbray dukes of Norfolk into the hands of his younger son. And Edward IV made matters worse for his sons by giving Richard of Gloucester huge grants of land and authority in the north of England, without doing anything to reconcile Gloucester and the Woodvilles.

The result was the disaster of 1483 when, on Edward’s death, the hostilities within his family circle exploded, culminating in Richard III’s usurpation and his murder of his young nephews. That undid the achievements of the second part of Edward’s reign and, indeed, shattered the Yorkist regime, preparing the way for Henry Tudor’s successful invasion two years later. Up to June 1483 Henry Tudor was hardly any more plausible as a potential king of England than Lambert Simnel or Perkin Warbeck were to be later. It was the devastating effect that Richard III’s usurpation had on the Yorkist regime that gave Henry his opportunity. Many of Edward’s closest supporters, in fact, fled to Henry Tudor; in some ways Bosworth was a ‘Yorkist revenge’ on Richard III. That clearly brings out the extreme importance of family politics in Yorkist England.

In Henry VII’s reign things were completely different. Whereas, for example, Edward IV’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville was a disastrous mistake, Henry VII’s to Elizabeth of York was the most sensible marriage possible. It was designed to heal political divisions, and probably did so. But after it, the queen and her relatives (who could be called Woodvilles, since Elizabeth of York was the daughter of Elizabeth Woodville) were kept in the background, so far as politics were concerned. Woodville influence, or the influence of the queen’s relatives, was no longer a factor in the England of Henry VII. Moreover, unlike Edward IV, Henry VII had no brothers to cause problems either during his reign or after his death. He did have two sons, but Arthur died in 1502 aged only fifteen, while the young Henry was only seventeen at the end of the reign; thus neither son was a major politica figure. Apart from his sons, Henry VII’s closest male relatives were his two uncles. But one of these, Viscount Welles, was a fairly insignificant person who hardly ever featured in national affairs. The other, Jasper Tudor, duke of Bedford, was an extremely prominent magnate; but he had been the main upholder of the Tudor cause before 1485, he was completely loyal to Henry, his main interests were in Wales and, most significantly, he died childless in 1495. Henry’s mother, Margaret countess of Richmond, was also a major landowner in her own right, but she too was absolutely loyal. And so, despite his suspect record before 1485, was her third husband, Henry VII’s step-father, Thomas Lord Stanley (created earl of Derby in 1485). Admittedly his brother, Sir William Stanley, was executed for treason in 1495, but that is the only time that political problems ever arose even on the fringe of Henry’s family circle.

Of course the fact that Henry had so few close relatives was not part of his deliberate policy. But even if he had had a large family, it is unlikely that he would have treated it as generously as Edward IV treated his. That is clear, to begin with, from the way in which his queen was kept in the background, and also from the fact that he endowed her with land worth only about two-thirds as much as Elizabeth Woodville had received from Edward IV. Similarly, although Jasper Tudor was given the title of duke and quite a large amount of land, especially in Wales, he had nothing like the grants Edward IV gave to his brothers, Clarence and Gloucester. And, most strikingly, consider the ways the two kings treated their younger sons. Both were made dukes of York and (although under age) were given another large inheritance to augment the lands of that duchy: the inheritance of the Mowbray dukes of Norfolk was diverted to Edward IV’s son, while the estates left by Jasper Tudor in 1495 were given to the young Henry. But whereas Edward IV’s son, although a minor, appears to have received the revenues from these estates, Henry VII kept the revenues of his younger son’s lands in his own hands. Moreover when after Arthur’s death young Henry became prince of Wales, he was made to s...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half Title Page
• In The Same Series
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Foreword
• Acknowledgements
• Note
• Introduction
• Further reading