(Cover image – © Unknown Artist – The National Portrait Gallery)
Lady Margaret Beaufort has long been viewed through the very narrow lens of her religion, and this has spanned from contemporary sources to her modern day portrayals in fictional works. Through this lens of religion, we seem to have twisted Margaret Beaufort into some sort of religious fanatic, like a Tudor dynasty Boogeyman who will pop out from your wardrobe when you don’t say your evening prayers.
But why do we do this?
Margaret was one of the most, if not THE most powerful women of her day in England, and this, I think, can be disarming, confusing and almost unbelievable considering she’s from a time when men ruled and wives said how high when the husband said jump. In a world of men, Margaret was quietly pulling strings behind the scenes. It’s certainly easier for us to dissect an individual and place them in ‘mental’ boxes, and Margaret seems to have been dutifully placed into the ‘religious icon’ file in many people's mental storage units—however, I suggest we should do some mental administration and place her into a file entitled ‘complete and utter unconditional love’ [1].
We know that Margaret was incredibly religious, and her devotion to the Catholic faith was well known amongst her contemporaries, with Margaret having used her religious devotion and vast wealth as a platform to be a patron of learning [2].
However, purely placing Margaret on a pedestal because of her deep religious devotion is to do her a disservice, she wasn’t two dimensional. Margaret was an intelligent woman with a deep rooted instinct—an almost primitive instinct for survival, she possessed a political knack and tenacity well beyond her years when she found herself plunged into being a single mother and widow at the tender age of thirteen.
So let's have a brief overview of Maggie.
Without getting into the confusing spider web—that is the Tudor family tree—I’ll give you a quick synopsis: Margaret was married to Edmund Tudor, one of six bastard siblings of King Henry VI (he was almost constantly catatonic). King Henry VI's mother—Catherine of Valois—had an affair and married Owyn Tydur, a Welsh archer—well below her station—after her husband, Henry V, croaked it. It was a complete scandal, as she had not sought due permission, but King Henry VI adored his mother so he ennobled his half siblings (Edmund and Jasper being the famous ones out of the bunch) as long as they promised to never have a crack at taking the throne, because they were the sons of a French-born Queen, not the English King. They agreed.
However Henry VI’s marriage to Margaret of Anjou had only produced one living heir, Edward of Westminster, so there was a strong chance any of his brother's male children would become the heir apparent due to being the direct nephew of King Henry VI. This made Edmund and Jasper ideal candidates in the marriage market, and a royal court is nothing, if not swarming with ambitious apex predators.
Margaret was in prime proximity to the throne because her great-grandfather was John of Gaunt, Edward III’s brother, so she herself possessed royal lineage. John of Gaunt had a long term mistress—Kathryne Swynford whom he evidently adored as he later married Kathryne, but before he and Kathryne tied the knot officially, they had produced five children, out of wedlock. Once legally married, John applied for a dispensation to legitimise his gaggle of children. Once permission was duly granted by the Pope, parliament agreed. This group of unassuming children were known as the ‘Beauforts’.
Margaret, being the only daughter of John Beaufort, was married to Edmund Tudor when she was still a child, only twelve years of age and Edmund was in his mid twenties. Margaret gave birth to the little boy who would grow to become Henry VII when she was just thirteen years old, a son to a husband twelve years her senior. I understand that this is shocking, and to put it bluntly; distressing. Even by the mediaeval standards for consummating a marriage of this brutality and lack of respect for Margaret’s childlike frame was unheard of and frankly, obscene. This harsh ‘consummation’ of her first marriage would stay with Margaret, psychically and mentally—she would never carry anymore children. Never having any more children could be solely through the vow of chastity she took due to her devout belief in Catholicism in her last marriage but I believe it was because the pregnancy and birth of Henry damaged her tiny and underdeveloped body, making marital relations painful.
Sadly, Margaret was also to give birth as a widow, as Edmund had succumbed to the plague while a prisoner in Carmarthen Castle after being taken by enemy troops while quelling rebellion. Margaret had to remarry, and remarry fast. She knew she couldn’t survive in male dominion unwed, so this is where that wonderful survival instinct she possessed kicks in. She remarried, quite fast to Henry Stafford, the second son of the Duke of Somerset. As the second son, Henry Stafford is penniless, but Margaret being the sole heir to the Beaufort fortune brings wealth to the table and Henry offers safety and pretty decent societal standing. However, with Margaret having remarried, she was forced to hand her son over to Jasper Tudor, her former brother-in-law. This is the answer for all of Margaret's motives over the coming years, during the Wars of the Roses and what lay after it. Margaret endured twenty-two years of emotional hardship to protect her son, widowhood again and a third marriage to place Henry Tudor on a seat people would flock to protect the idea and sanctity of. The crown may be heavy, but Margaret’s love for her son outweighed any danger and mayhem the throne had the potential to release.
Margaret was to outlive her only child, as Henry VII passed away on the 21st of April 1509. Margaret herself died on the 29th of June 1509, only six days after she saw her grandson Henry VIII crowned and firmly on the throne, a very meaningful and dignified last appearance in public. This last appearance may have been cathartic for Margaret, to confirm in her mind that the dynasty she had worked so hard to protect was successful. Her confessor, John Fisher, spoke highly of Margaret in his sermon for her funeral, in which he addressed with great importance her piety, charitable doings and her devotion to the Catholic faith [3].
Margaret’s portraits are also a picture into her faith, depicting her at prayer, or with a book of hours in hand, with her rosary beads dangling lightly over the page in which she reads. When we are given an image of someone, we instantly draw conclusions and tell ourselves an immediate story and the portrait of Margaret Beaufort in her widow's wimple, dressed in all black aside from her wimple shows a sombre and serious woman concreted in constant prayer. It is her everlasting image, and I believe this to some extent has also held responsibility for shaping our view of Margaret. It is not a portrait that brags of the great wealth or position she possesses. It does not offer us a glimpse at glittering jewels and rich clothing but a devout older lady lost in the sanctity of faith and far away in prayer [4].
Yet what Margaret Beaufort endured and negotiated with in her lifetime is no small feat, as I sit here writing this I cannot help but to admire her. She was a woman who for all her tenacity and political pragmatism began her journey as a single mother at the age of thirteen. Yes, her religion was no doubt a large part of who she was, her faith in God proving to be unbreakable throughout every adversity she faced, such adversities would certainly cause more sceptic folk to turn their back to God, but Margaret didn’t just possess her faith; she was also an incredibly astute politician and when God didn’t serve her need for the robust faith that everything would be okay, politicking did.
She proved to be a much further politically minded player for the throne than the career courtiers she found herself surrounded by whose age may have surpassed her own, regardless of whether red or white, kin or foe was pinned to their collar. She repeatedly and dogmatically refused to be a victim of circumstance. Margaret adapted to the violent cloak-and-dagger milieu she was plunged into with such brilliance and ferocity that she is worthy of far more than just being remembered as the incredibly pious and god fearing woman we have distorted her into. Margaret loved fun, she gambled, hunted and played the courtly game but above all she adored her only child and was a mother before all else.
Certain written fiction and TV series have framed Margaret as having grown into an old, rotten and scheming sour-bag, fanatically religious mother-in-law only nightmares could conjure, but she is so much more than her religion. She was the commander and general in chief of one of (if not the biggest) royal coups in English History and all subsequent royals are descendants of her Beaufort line. The bloodline of the British Royal family is a testament to the love Margaret forged in her bloodshed, terror and pain on that cold and marvellous day on 28th January 1457. That love can still be felt today, love of such magnitude does not fade, its power has not diminished, resounding throughout the following centuries, its culmination having manufactured such a climax that thousands if not millions continue to study that love, read about it and dramatize it. This potent love will continue to echo down through the following centuries, as long as the island that the United Kingdom rests upon, floats. Margaret Beaufort is remembered for her brilliance, her formidability and the education that she inspired and funded in her lifetime, continues to inspire in her death [5].
Perhaps next time you’re in a place of worship, take a moment to remember Lady Margaret Beaufort and the unadulterated love she so capably possessed.
The most dangerous figure in the Wars of the Roses was not he who held the crown, but a mother frightened for the life of her child.
My Lady, the King’s Mother.
References:
Underwood, Malcolm G. “Politics and Piety in the Household of Lady Margaret Beaufort.” Cambridge University, Cambridge University Press, March 2011, https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/journal-of-ecclesiastical-history/article/abs/politics-and-piety-in-the-household-of-lady-margaret-beaufort/44EEE8BCC71079A7D70CCFED233FF5CB.
“History Taster Series on Lady Margaret Beaufort- 'The mother of all Tudors' | Christs College Cambridge.” Christs College Cambridge, https://www.christs.cam.ac.uk/admissions/undergraduate-admissions/events-including-online-events/history-taster-series-lady.
Abadia, Marcela. Representations of Lady Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond and Derby. https://open.conted.ox.ac.uk/sites/open.conted.ox.ac.uk/files/resources/Create%20Document/Representations%20of%20Lady%20Margaret%20Beaufort%20Countess%20of%20Richmond%20and%20Derby_Marcela%20Abadia.pdf.
Portraits of Lady Margaret Beaufort.
Ridley, Mat, and Natalie Despot. “About Us- Margaret Beaufort Institute of Theology.” Margaret Beaufort Institute of Theology, https://www.mbit.cam.ac.uk/about-us/.
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