Beyond Death

WARNING: LONG POST – Reading time: 5 minutes if you read fast 😀

I often hear people say that the marriage between Elizabeth of York and Henry VII was, despite being political, also a love match. Apparently, he was deeply attached to his wife, respected her, and when she died, he spent a fortune on her funeral, so much that even the most prestigious deceased would have been envious! And considering that Henry was notoriously stingy, you can imagine the colossal effort it must have taken him to organize such a grand funeral.

I’m also told that they were so in love that for Elizabeth, getting pregnant nine times (at least, the confirmed ones) and giving birth to seven children was no hardship at all. As if conceiving children necessarily required an intense love story… because, as we all know, reproduction is impossible without love! Oh, well.

What I always find curious is this relentless effort to prove that Elizabeth and Henry were the perfect couple, overflowing with love, affection, respect, and, above all! an intense and enviable sexual compatibility. Now, let’s set aside this last point, which is frankly impossible to assess (we can study all we want, but we will never truly know if they found each other attractive). The real point I want to make is that their marriage was anything but a love match.

My deep affection for Elizabeth often leads me to say that, after Richard’s fall, she became a prisoner of the Tudors. And, of course, someone always jumps in to remind me that, no, she wasn’t locked in a dungeon with a ball and chain.

I get it, in today’s world, we need to be extremely precise, even in metaphors. So, let me clarify: I’m not saying Elizabeth was kept on bread and water in a damp cell.

Now that we’ve got that straight, let’s get to the real issue: Henry had no desire whatsoever to marry Elizabeth. The idea of marrying a York heiress really didn’t sit well with him. And if you have the patience to follow along, I’ll tell you why. I promise to be brief and concise, though, in the end, I always hope someone will be intrigued enough to dig deeper into the topic.

So, we all know that Henry Tudor’s claim to the throne was rather weak. He was the grandson of a bastard, legitimized by Richard II (only to be later excluded from the line of succession by Henry IV, who downgraded them to mere nobles). So, he found himself claiming the English throne not by dynastic right, but by… battlefield results. Basically, he defeated Richard III, so, by the victor’s logic, he was now the legitimate king. (I’ll skip over the fact that, before the battle, at the French court, he had spun all sorts of fairytales to make himself seem like a credible candidate, even going so far as to pretend to be Henry VI’s son… Too bad he got caught almost immediately.)

But what happened when Richard was slaughtered in battle and Henry proclaimed himself king?

Let’s take a step back. In 1483, Henry Tudor declared his intention to marry Elizabeth of York, not out of some sudden romantic epiphany, but under pressure from two very influential women: his mother, Margaret Beaufort, and Elizabeth Woodville, mother of Elizabeth of York.

Their goal? To overthrow the newly crowned King Richard III.

This declaration came right after the rebellion of Richard’s dear cousin, the Duke of Buckingham, who had conspired with Bishop John Morton (a sworn enemy of Richard and, conveniently, Margaret Beaufort’s godfather). The plan was to help Henry invade England and depose Richard.

But the rebellion failed miserably, Buckingham was executed for treason, and Morton, showing great warrior spirit, ran for his life and took refuge with his godson Henry.

In 1484, someone requested a papal dispensation to allow Elizabeth and Henry’s marriage (since they were cousins, divine permission was needed). Meanwhile, however, Richard held his first and only Parliament, in which he officially declared the children of Edward IV illegitimate, including Elizabeth.

And this is when pure panic broke out.

Because if Elizabeth was no longer a legitimate heir, her marriage to Henry lost much of its political appeal. Henry probably wondered whether the English nobility would even accept a “bastard” as their future queen. Suddenly, marrying her didn’t seem like such a brilliant move anymore.

To counter this, Richard made a deal with Elizabeth Woodville, inviting her and her daughters to court and promising them advantageous marriages.

So, Elizabeth of York, her sisters, and her mother found themselves at Richard III’s court, where they remained until Henry decided to try again with his 1485 invasion.

Now, just imagine Henry’s state of mind. A few months earlier, he was planning to crown himself king, and now he was completely humiliated, ridiculed, with no dynastic leverage left to claim the throne.

Then, in 1485, Anne Neville died, leaving Richard a widower.

So, what did the king do? He decided to arrange a double Portuguese marriage:

• Elizabeth of York would marry Manuel of Beja,

• and Richard himself would marry Joanna of Portugal.

(No, I won’t discuss the uncle-niece gossip. Bye!)

At this point, what did Henry do? Furious like never before, he doubled down and openly challenged Richard, declaring himself King of England and signing everything as Henricus Rex, because modesty clearly wasn’t his strong suit.

Richard’s reaction?

Well, how would you feel if some exile declared himself king of your realm?

Personally, I’d be like: “Who is this runaway? What does he want from me? And, above all, how dare he?”

Henry’s arrogance did not go unnoticed, and in December 1484, Richard issued a formal proclamation condemning Henry’s “ambition and insatiable greed” and stating that Henry had “no right, claim, or justification” to the throne.

Take that!

But this wasn’t enough, because that great man of God, John Morton (yes, him again!) ran off to Rome and secured a special papal bull declaring Henry the rightful king, even without marrying Elizabeth. Oh, and he also threatened excommunication for anyone who opposed Henry.

And just like that, with a stroke of genius (and a little divine backing), Henry secured papal approval for his new, incredibly audacious strategy.

At this point, the situation was clear:

• On one side, Richard had completely undermined Henry’s claim, taking away his only trump card, Elizabeth, by offering her to a Portuguese prince.

(And honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Elizabeth, in her famous letter to Norfolk, was desperately asking him to hurry up with the marriage arrangements so she could escape to Portugal as soon as possible… and who could blame her?)

• On the other side, Henry was shouting to the world that he was king and that even God was on his side.

Oh wow. Now things were really heating up…

And then what happened?

We arrive at that cursed August 22, 1485, the day Richard was slaughtered at Bosworth, and Henry Tudor became king.

So, farewell Portugal for Elizabeth!

And this is where Henry’s strategy becomes even more evident: not only did he backdate his claim to the throne to August 21, the day before the battle (thus, with a stroke of bureaucratic genius, making everyone who had fought for Richard officially traitors, meaning they could be executed), but most importantly, he never once mentioned marriage to Elizabeth.

After all, he didn’t need her anymore. At the end of the day, he had become king through victory on the battlefield and divine favor, so what was the point of marrying a York?

Everything was perfect. Or almost. Because there was one little detail he hadn’t considered: the Yorkist supporters, who still hadn’t quite come to terms with the way history had unfolded… let’s just say, not in their favor.

So Henry had himself crowned king, alone… and suddenly, we find ourselves with a bachelor king, anointed by God, while Elizabeth remains on the sidelines, without a title, without a husband, without any role. Bastard and spinster.

Poor woman, what great sin had she committed to deserve this?

Parliament, however, did not appreciate Henry’s “oversight.” After all, he himself had publicly declared that he would marry the York heir, so why was he now pretending to forget about it?

And so, they forced him to renew his promise of marriage.

Reluctantly, Henry once again had to declare that he would marry Elizabeth but… and here’s the best part: he requested a second papal dispensation.

Why? He had already obtained one the previous year, so what was the problem?

The answer is quite obvious: Henry was hoping that this new request would bring to light some legal loophole that would prevent him from marrying her. That way, he could get rid of her once and for all and rule without a York constantly looming over him.

But surprise! The Vatican renewed the dispensation and reaffirmed that the marriage could go ahead.

What a blow for Henry! No matter how hard he tried, there was no escaping this twenty-year-old girl with the wrong bloodline.

Elizabeth’s marginalization did not sit well with anyone, and in December 1485, the first revolts began to break out.

Henry, backed into a corner, could no longer ignore the issue.

And so…

• January 14, 1486 – A papal legate for England and Scotland examines eight witnesses who know both the bride and groom.

• January 16 – A “sufficient” dispensation is granted to confirm the marriage.

• January 18 – The wedding finally takes place.

And now, Henry was truly trapped.

But… there’s always a but.

We are often told that Henry destroyed all copies of the Titulus Regius (the act through which Richard had declared Edward IV’s children illegitimate) before his marriage to Elizabeth.

But in reality, he did it afterward.

Translation?

Henry married Elizabeth while she was still legally a bastard.

And here comes the ultimate display of power: it wasn’t Elizabeth who legitimized him through marriage, it was he who legitimized her. In other words, he was actually doing her a favor!

In fact, in March 1486, just two months after their wedding, Henry obtained a third papal dispensation (or a fourth, if we count the one issued by the papal legate in 1484). What a generous man!

At this point, it’s pretty obvious that Henry had no real desire to marry a Yorkist heiress. It’s just as clear that he wanted the throne for himself alone, convinced that the crown had landed on his head by divine right, not just because he had butchered a king on the battlefield, relying on mercenaries and traitors.

But from that moment on, history must be told as it was passed down to us:

• Elizabeth became the first Tudor queen.

• She gave Henry four children, three of whom would become kings and queens.

• Her lineage is still alive today, as King Charles III is a direct descendant of her daughter, Margaret.

Very nice, of course. But this doesn’t really sound like a love match.

Not from Henry’s side. And certainly not from Elizabeth’s.

Let’s sum it up:

• Henry did everything he could to avoid marrying her, securing three dispensations and an extra papal bull.

• Elizabeth hoped to escape to Portugal.

• But life, cruel as it is, had other plans.

In her life as queen, Elizabeth was forced to adopt a motto that didn’t suit her at all: “Humble and Penitent”, and her sole purpose was to be a fertile womb for the Tudor dynasty’s heirs.

And this was supposed to symbolize the peace between the White Rose and the Red Rose?

Honestly… I’d reconsider the terms of that agreement.

Sure, she attended official events, but that doesn’t mean Henry wanted her by his side out of love.

He had to keep her around for political reasons: she represented a part of the Yorkist faction that still supported her, and he couldn’t afford to alienate them entirely.

(And considering that even with this strategy, rebellions kept flaring up—Lambert Simnel and Perkin Warbeck being prime examples, I’d say Henry had little choice, don’t you think?)

In the end, Elizabeth gave up.

She lived only for her children and whatever little power she had left (apparently, she had a voice in the king’s council alongside her mother-in-law. It must have been quite a challenge to make herself heard in a room with someone like Margaret.)

And the perfect sacrifice for the crown?

Dying of puerperal fever in an attempt to give Henry another male heir.

At the time, a queen who died in childbirth was seen almost as a saint, because she had given her life for the kingdom.

Her son, Henry VIII, did the same with Jane Seymour.

(The Tudors seemed to have a thing for giving grand funerals to the wives they killed through childbirth.)

But this doesn’t demonstrate love or deep affection, it was simply the cruel social convention of the time.

And now, I can already hear someone saying:

“But Henry never remarried after Elizabeth’s death, so he must have really loved her!”

Well, no.

After her death, Henry absolutely tried to find a new wife, but he was too ill and too paranoid to finalize the deal.

And besides, this was the perfect opportunity to finally rule alone, just as he had always wanted.

Now…

Could it be that, after all those years, the two developed some mutual affection?

Sure, it’s not easy to survive at court without forming at least some kind of alliance, especially when everyone around you is hiding a dagger up their sleeve.

But to say that the marriage between Elizabeth and Henry was a love story?

Well, that’s a stretch.

P.S. If anyone has love letters (or any proof of affection) that contradict what I’ve said, I’m ready to repent for all my thoughts, sins, deeds, and omissions, and cover my head in ashes.

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