'Now Take Heed What Love May Do'

The exact date on which King Edward IV married Elizabeth Wydeville is uncertain, but traditionally they are held to have married on, or about, 1 May 1464. In literature, Mayday had long been associated with romance, chivalry and passion. The selection of the date was appropriate, because Edward's marriage to Elizabeth appears to have been a love match. 

The marriage took place in circumstances of secrecy. Elizabeth's mother Jacquetta attended - and perhaps arranged the match - as did an unnamed priest. Two gentlewomen also attended. Contemporary writers and chroniclers later wrote, variously, that Elizabeth had enchanted the young king under an oak tree; that she had defended herself with a dagger when he attempted to force himself upon her; or that he threatened her with a dagger. 

Edward has been criticised by modern historians for selecting Elizabeth as his bride. However, there were good reasons to marry her. Firstly, she was undoubtedly fertile. She had already produced two sons in her first marriage, and she herself had thirteen siblings. Clearly, from Edward's perspective, Elizabeth came from good stock and would be able to produce sons, which was the primary duty of the medieval queen. Secondly, as later events would show, Elizabeth was beautiful, intelligent, charismatic, pious and ambitious. Thirdly, she was descended from the ducal house of Luxembourg, and could in theory offer her husband a prestigious foreign alliance. Fourthly, she had been married to a Lancastrian knight and the Wydevilles had traditionally supported the Lancastrian regime, so marriage to Elizabeth offered Edward the opportunity to heal the divisions between the warring houses of Lancaster and York.

On the other hand, Edward's choice was surprising to his contemporaries, because Elizabeth was not a foreign princess; marriage to a French princess would have been more profitable both for Edward and for his kingdom. The earl of Warwick had been negotiating for the king to wed Bona of Savoy. By marrying an English widow, Edward failed to consolidate his position, which was a risky policy given that he was a usurper. The situation in England remained precarious, and marriage to a foreign princess would have offered the promise of foreign military and diplomatic support, in the wake of further conflict and bloodshed. Secondly, the marriage alienated Warwick, who had supported Edward until that point. There is no evidence that the nobility as a whole resented the Wydevilles, but they were certainly disliked by Warwick, and he was a dangerous enemy to have, as events were to prove. 

In defying convention, Edward behaved exactly like his future grandson Henry VIII, who married four English women, at least two for love. King Edward has often been viewed as a serial womaniser, and indeed it is possible that he was actually married to Eleanor Talbot before marrying Elizabeth Wydeville. The king could not have known it, but his previous involvement with Eleanor was to jeopardise his marriage to Elizabeth. In Richard III's reign, the Wydeville marriage was declared invalid and the children of Edward and Elizabeth were declared illegitimate and unfit to succeed. 

In September 1464, Edward finally admitted that he had married Elizabeth. She was crowned queen on 26 May 1465, and gave birth to their first child, a daughter named Elizabeth, in February 1466. The marriage seems to have been a successful one. Elizabeth demonstrated her suitability to be queen and was praised for her constancy and modest behaviour, particularly during the troubles of 1470. Ultimately, it was their daughter Elizabeth's fate to be queen of England as the wife of Henry VII. 

The Wars of the Roses: A Tudor Construction?

Historian Dan Jones has published an interesting article in the October 2014 edition of BBC History Magazine claiming that the Wars of the Roses, the dynastic conflict between the royal houses of Lancaster and York in the mid-to-late fifteenth century, might have been a Tudor construction invented by that dynasty to consolidate and legitimise their rule. Some historians have supported this approach. K. B. McFarlane argued years before that there was no such thing as the 'Wars of the Roses'. This period of history has become ever more popular with the success of Philippa Gregory's "Cousins' War" novels (and the BBC television adaptation of one novel, The White Queen). But is Jones right to claim that the Wars of the Roses was, effectively, invented by the Tudors to explain their success in attaining the throne? Is the traditional interpretation of the conflict, so vividly described in Shakespeare's plays, 'misleading, distorted, oversimplified and - in parts - deliberately false'?

To start with, the term 'Wars of the Roses' certainly does not date from the time of the conflict. Sir Walter Scott seems to have coined it in his novel Anne of Geierstein, published in 1829. Scott in turn came up with the name having read Shakespeare's play Henry VI Part 1, specifically a scene in which a number of noblemen and a lawyer in the gardens of the Temple Church select red or white roses to demonstrate their loyalty to the Lancaster or York house, respectively. Jones is probably correct in suggesting that the Lancastrians never actually used the red rose as a badge during the period of conflict. As Adrian Ailes comments, Henry VII's decision to combine the red and white roses as a symbol of the end of conflict between Lancaster and York 'was a brilliant piece of simple heraldic propaganda'. 

Leanda de Lisle, however, recently suggested that the term 'Wars of the Roses' actually originated long before the publication of Scott's novel in 1829. She mentions that historian David Hume referred to 'the wars between the two roses' in his work of 1762, while more than a hundred years earlier the conflict was described as 'the quarrel of the two roses'. Lisle interestingly notes that Edward IV made extensive use of the white rose as a badge representing the House of York, for it was believed to have been the badge of Edward's ancestor Roger Mortimer, the supposed 'true' heir of Richard II before his right was 'usurped' by Henry IV. Perhaps most intriguingly of all, Lisle dismisses claims that the conflict should instead be known as 'the Cousins' War'.


Above: did the Wars of the Roses really involve the red rose of Lancaster competing for the throne against the white rose of York?

Jones' argument that the Wars of the Roses was an invention of the victorious Tudors hinges on the suggestion that it is a myth that the wars erupted because 'there were too many men of royal blood clustering around the crown, vying for power and influence over a weak-willed king'. Yet, in histories of the conflict that I have read, it is argued that conflict broke out firstly because of Henry VI's incompetence as a king, and secondly because of military disasters in France. England lost all the territories it had conquered and was left only with Calais (later won back by the French in 1558). Jones argues, fairly, that the 1420s saw no serious unrest and speculates that Henry VI's weak kingship did not ultimately result in dynastic conflict until he experienced insanity in 1453. This is correct. In stating this point, why does Jones seem to imply that historians have traditionally viewed the roots of the conflict as occurring as early as the 1420s/30s? To me, it was Henry VI's madness in 1453 that instigated the conflict. His illness allowed Richard duke of York to seize the reins of government, leading to conflict and rivalry with Henry's queen, Margaret of Anjou. Jones speculates that Henry VI's forced decision to disinherit his own son Prince Edward in 1460 in favour of the Yorkists was the point at which 'the wars became dynastic'. Surely this is stating the obvious: beforehand, conflict between York and Edmund Beaufort, duke of Somerset, occurred because both men were fighting for control of the king and the greater power and influence at court. But at some point, York seems to have concluded that he would make a stronger and more efficient king than the incapacitated Henry VI.


Above: Henry VI, house of Lancaster (left).
Edward IV, house of York (right).

In dividing the conflict into four phases, Jones' conclusions do not suggest that the Wars of the Roses was necessarily a Tudor invention. Rather, it indicates that the term 'Wars of the Roses', itself, is not perhaps the most helpful or effective way of characterising this period of dynastic conflict, especially given the fact that neither house probably employed their rose as the most prominent badge to represent their claim. The Tudors' decision to incorporate the red and white roses into what became the Tudor rose - achieved by Henry VII's marriage to Elizabeth of York in 1486 after his victory at Bosworth - was undoubtedly propaganda at its most effective, indicating that they had brought unity, harmony and sound rule to England after thirty years or so of political, governmental and dynastic unrest. But I remain unconvinced by Jones' claim that the Wars of the Roses should be considered a construction of the victorious Tudors. If anything, I came away from his article more convinced than before that it was a period of dynastic conflict, in which rival families sought to obtain the throne. Maybe they were not neatly separated into Lancaster and York, that is fair enough. But after 1460, there was certainly concerted rivalry between those loyal to Henry VI and the Lancastrians, and those who favoured Edward IV and the Yorkists, that blossomed due to increasing determination to obtain the throne and achieve peaceful governance after years of serious unrest.

9 April 1483: The Death of Edward IV

Above: Edward IV, king of England (1442-1483).

On this day in history, 9 April 1483, King Edward IV of England died. He had been king of England for twenty-two years, barring a six month period when his predecessor, Henry VI, briefly resumed his kingship. The first Yorkist king of England, Edward's first reign (1461-70) was marred by violence and continuing political and dynastic tensions as a result of Edward's unpopular marriage to Elizabeth Woodville, his fallout with the 'Kingmaker' earl of Warwick, and the continuing threat from the Lancastrians. But his second period of kingship, 1471-83, was comparatively more successful and can be termed a period of peace as the threat from the Lancastrians fell away following the death of Henry, the defeat of his controversial queen Margaret of Anjou and the death of their prince Edward of Westminster in battle.

Edward had been born in 1442 in Rouen, France; the second child of the third Duke of York, Richard Plantagenet, and his resourceful wife Cecily Neville. Edward was the eldest of four sons who survived to adulthood. The fifteenth century was a turbulent and violent period as English dynastic politics became increasingly uncertain and faction-driven as a result of the Lancastrian king Henry VI's ineptitude. The loss of English possessions in France, so hard-won by his much-famed father Henry V, were viewed with consternation and outrage in England, and the nobles, led by York, became increasingly vocal in their demands for the king's unpopular advisers, including the earl of Suffolk and later the duke of Somerset, whom they blamed for England's mounting crises, to be removed from power.


Above: Edward IV's coat of arms.

Edward was a handsome and energetic young man, famed for his good looks and personality. He was 6'4 and as a result was England's tallest king. In the 1450s, he came to play an increasingly important role in his family's dynastic conflict with the Lancastrians. His father, the duke of York, asserted his claim to the English throne in 1460, but he died at the Battle of Wakefield later that year. As a result, his claim passed to his teenage son, Edward. Edward's position in the mounting conflicts therefore became increasingly pivotal. In alliance with his kinsman the Earl of Warwick, Edward defeated the Lancastrians in several battles, including the bloodiest battle fought on English soil, Towton, in March 1461. Edward, at the age of nineteen, became king shortly afterwards.


Above: Edward's queen, Elizabeth Woodville.

However, Edward's reign did not begin particularly well due to the development of conflict with his former erstwhile ally, the Earl of Warwick. Following Edward's accession to the throne, the Earl had negotiated with the French king for Edward to marry his daughter, Anne of France, in an alliance that would enhance England's prestige and allow it to play a major role in European politics. However, Edward disrupted these plans by marrying the commoner Elizabeth Woodville, a Lancastrian widow in her late twenties. This misalliance outraged the earl and caused some consternation at court. It is possible that the king's mother, the formidable Cecily Neville, disapproved of the match. Most historians believe that the King was infatuated with Elizabeth, whose beauty was legendary, although there were, unsurprisingly, rumours that she had ensnared him by use of the black arts.

The new marriage caused hostility amongst the nobility, who resented the Woodville's lowborn origins. Worst of all, Elizabeth had numerous siblings, who were quickly married off to the most powerful nobles in attempts to bolster their power and enhance their prestige. This further alienated the earl of Warwick, who had hoped to marry his two daughters and heiresses Isabel and Anne to nobles. Warwick eventually turned against the king, acting in alliance with Edward's younger brother George duke of Clarence, who had come to resent his brother's policies. Warwick eventually captured the king following the Yorkist defeat at the Battle of Edgecote Moor in July 1469, but because he did not attain the support he had hoped for, the earl was forced to release Edward in September. The king sought reconciliation with his brother and Warwick, rather than executing or imprisoning them as traitors. Warwick, however, sailed to France and allied himself with his former enemy Margaret of Anjou, acting together with the support of the French king. The alliance was cemented by the marriage of Warwick's second daughter, Anne, to Margaret's son, the Lancastrian heir Edward of Westminster.


Above: Richard III, younger brother of Edward IV.

Following Edward's defeat in 1470, the Lancastrian king Henry VI, who had briefly fell into insanity in the late 1450s, was restored to the throne. Edward, however, managed to attain support from the duke of Burgundy, who was married to his younger sister Margaret. Edward returned to England and obtained the support of his people as he steadily moved through the country unopposed. His brother George returned to his side, having been alienated by his unfavourable fortunes following Henry's readeption. The Yorkist king entered London unchallenged, taking Henry VI prisoner. Warwick was defeated at the battle of Barnet in 1471, and the Lancastrian prince was killed at the battle of Tewkesbury that same year. Henry VI was almost certainly murdered at the Tower of London in May 1471, and his shamed and humiliated wife Margaret was forced to seek sanctuary in France. No longer were the Lancastrians, in the persons of Henry and Margaret, a threat to the victorious Yorkist dynasty.

Edward's second half of his reign, comprising twelve years, were peaceful. He faced no more rebellions and sired ten children by his wife Elizabeth, whom he enjoyed a loving and affectionate relationship with, although like many men in this age he took mistresses, including the beautiful Jane (or Elizabeth) Shore. Edward became increasingly gluttonous, however, and his weight expanded during the later years of his reign. Dynastic tragedy did occur, for George was executed in 1478 on grounds of treason. On 9 April 1483, less than three weeks before his forty-first birthday, he died. He had named his younger brother Richard (whom he seems to have trusted more than the disgraced George) as Lord Protector during the reign of his successor Edward V, who was a minor. There is uncertainty surrounding the exact cause of Edward's death, although both pneumonia and typhoid have been suggested.

Edward was an extremely popular and successful king. He outshone his predecessor, the saintly if ineffectual Henry VI, and appeared similar to the glorious Henry V. Later, similarities would be drawn between the first Yorkist king and his grandson Henry VIII. He was a spectacular military commander - he was never defeated in battle. His reign saw the restoration of law and order in England that had been notably absent in the conflict-riven reign of his predecessor. Edward managed his finances well and ensured stability in his household. His court was praised as "the most splendid in all Christendom", as the reports of contemporary ambassadors attest. He was interested in fashion and architecture, and knew how to project images of himself as a godly monarch. He was also interested in literature and education - more than forty of his books survive today. To all intents and purposes, Edward enjoyed a successful and prosperous reign. The Yorkist dynasty would, however, be marred by the haunting disappearance of his two sons Edward and Richard. To this day, no-one knows for certain what happened to those two little boys.


Above: the Princes in the Tower. What happened to Edward IV's sons?

Margaret of Anjou - "She-Wolf"?

Stupidly, I've recently gone crazy with buying books - I currently have about 30 which need reading, 6 of which I'm trying to get through from the university library. As a history student, unfortunately, I get so passionate about wanting to discover the past that I feel I have to read constantly, and I've got this notion into my head that I need to know about every period and nation, not just early modern England. Anyway, I thought I'd post on someone who's fascinated me for a long time now, Margaret of Anjou, the subject of one of those said books I've taken out from the library.

Studying A Level Tudor History, with one module on the Wars of the Roses during the period 1450-1485, was incredible to me in allowing me to discover some of the most extraordinary women who lived in that period: Elizabeth Woodville, Margaret Beaufort, and of course, Margaret queen of England herself. Taking for this blog's post the book Margaret of Anjou: Queenship and Power in Late Medieval England by Helen E. Maurer, this post will explore Margaret's controversial but remarkable life as wife of the notoriously inept Henry VI of England. Was she the 'she-wolf' immortalised by Shakespeare's compelling lines? Or was she a powerful political player who genuinely sought to bring a measure of stability to a faction-ridden and corrupt English court?

Maurer makes the very true point when starting her book that the likes of Shakespeare have influenced our understandings of Margaret as 'a vengeful and a violent woman', 'a bitch, an adulterous she-wolf who mocks her captive enemy, Richard, duke of York, before killing him in cold blood'.[1] More to the point, Maurer insists that since Shakespeare, most modern historians have generally agreed with his verdict of Margaret, though recognising the inaccuracies and exaggerations which plague his play. Maurer laments that serious academics have spoken of ‘the queen’s harsh determination’, her ‘unforgiving severity’ towards the Yorkists.[2] One cannot but agree with Maurer when she notes somewhat ironically that this fails to take into consideration Margaret’s incredible leadership and political abilities at an unstable court. But there is a likely reason for such harsh judgments persisting in relation to this late medieval queen: ‘until quite recently all western history was male-centered as a matter of course. The problem that this poses for the inclusion and study of anachronistically prominent women is that they have had to be fitted into male standards and constructs, present as well as past. The result too often has been judgment rather than analysis’.[3]

This, of course, is true in relation to other queens of this period. Retha M. Warnicke critically notes that, writing of Anne Boleyn, ‘in histories that treat men as three-dimensional and complex personalities, the women shine forth in universal stereotypes: the shrew, the whore, the tease, the shy virgin, or the blessed mother’.[4] Similarly, Katherine Howard, who supposedly deviated from notions of the ideal woman in early modern England, was condemned as a whore and traitoress and suffered execution for it.[5] In view of this, Maurer’s insistence that we utilise gender as a central historical category of analysis is compelling: ‘just as the addition of gender helps to make the political story clearer, so the chaotic political history of the Wars of the Roses cast the gender issues into high relief’.[6]

In view of this, this article will attempt to survey the events (diplomatic, political, social, factional) of Margaret’s life through a gendered framework, paying critical attention to the difference her sex made and notions of the female sex. This is essential since ‘in order to move beyond the traditional picture of Margaret’s activities (ie. which eventually condemn her as an adulteress, a shrew and a she-wolf), the very real issue of gender must be engaged’.[7]

Born in March 1430 to René, duke of Anjou and his wife Isabelle daughter and heir of Charles II duke of Lorraine, Margaret was born into a prominent European royal family during this period and thus, in the words of Diana E. S. Dunn, ‘destined her from birth to be a pawn in the complexities of European diplomacy’.[8] European politics governed Margaret’s course of life, which must be considered from both French and an English perspective. In terms of England, Henry VI had acceded to the throne in 1422 aged just nine months following the death of his renowned father Henry V, who had brought prestige and glory to the English crown through his military victories abroad and his claims to the crown of France. This, however, provided a situation of conflict, crisis and factional discontent, a common occurrence when a minor acceded to the crown. Henry, having reached his majority, sought a bride in the early 1440s; an essential element of kingship was the fathering of a male heir who could then succeed his father peacefully following his father’s death. It is not surprising that Henry sought a French princess as his bride – the majority of queens since the Norman Conquest in 1066 had been of the French royal house.[9] Yet this did occur at a time when English dominance in France was slowly fading, since the French had managed to recover some English-held territory while attempts to achieve a settlement between the powers failed.

In terms of Margaret’s perspective, the marriage alliance with England represented a prestigious match for Margaret’s father, while it also brought a fundamental source of influence at the English court to the French monarch Charles VII. Margaret was able to bring important links with parts of the French kingdom, including the duchies of Lorraine and Bar, although her dowry was ‘meagre’.[10] Yet the English desire to effect an alliance with France probably dispelled any annoyance at the prospective queen’s unremarkable dowry.

How Margaret felt about her prospective bridegroom, Henry VI, we cannot tell. She may have held a negative opinion about his father, Henry V, gained from stories of his exploits in France and his undermining of the French kingdom during the early fifteenth century. Nonetheless, the opportunity to become queen of England was a significant and exciting one, and probably the best match she was ever likely to make. In 1445, aged fifteen – this youthful age was not seen as representing particular problems; Isabella of France had wed Richard II aged twelve, while Katherine Howard may have been only around fifteen at marriage – Margaret arrived in England and in May the king presented her with jewels fit for a queen, before marrying Henry at Titchfield Abbey and being crowned on 30 May in Westminster Abbey. [11] Margaret was later described as being ‘a most handsome woman, though somewhat dark and not so beautiful’ as Bianca Maria Visconti, duchess of Milan, although she had very long hair worn loose at her coronation.[12] Margaret was well aware of the duties she was expected to fulfil as queen: namely, produce a male heir in order to ensure the continuation of the Lancastrian dynasty, and to bring political and social stability to a faction-ridden and economically unstable kingdom. It is unsurprising, in view of this, that there was considerable hope and expectation at the royal wedding.

Margaret was granted 10,000 marks per annum as the new queen of England by parliament in March 1446, and estates worth £2000 per annum were settled on her from the duchy of Lancaster.[13] As has been noted in relation to Anne Boleyn, Margaret’s elevated status had meant she became a woman of considerable economic power as a landowner and a source of patronage in the English court.[14] Margaret’s marriage was initially successful, and she was a strong queen consort. However, her inability in the early years of her marriage to Henry VI to produce a son must have caused considerable concern at the court. Whether or not this was Margaret’s fault is impossible to discern. Viewing her life through a gendered framework, it is plausible to argue that, by virtue of their sex, failures in pregnancy were attributed to queens, as seen in the case of Henry VIII’s queens. Despite this, she was a strong figure, ‘a determined and effective distributor of patronage, and a woman concerned for the welfare of her household servants’.[15] Evidence of her patronage exists in her founding Queen’s College, Cambridge in 1448, shortly after her husband’s foundation of King’s College. Her excellent upbringing as a princess of the royal house of France undoubtedly benefited her, allowing her to act in her role with dignity, compassion and political sense. Yet unsettling events in her adopted country were soon to threaten Margaret’s stability as queen.

In April 1453, famously, Henry VI collapsed with a very serious physical and mental illness, commonly believed by historians to have been schizophrenia. This was highly unfortunate, for Margaret had fallen pregnant that year, and when in March 1454 her son Edward was born, the king was unable to recognise him. In view of both her son’s birth and her husband’s mental collapse, Margaret ‘was forced into the centre of the political arena, as control of her husband and son became the focus of competing groups among the nobility’.[16] We therefore must reconsider our interpretation of Margaret’s character and behaviour in view of these events. The argument that she was a cold and ruthless ‘she-wolf’ who ambitiously sought power and political advantage for both herself and her ‘party’ at court is nonsensical in view of the events which occurred in 1453-4. By stepping into the centre of power, Margaret was acting logically and common sensically, determined to preserve her lineage and ensure the position of her husband the king was not undermined further. We should recognise these actions as courageous and representative of a strong woman acting on her own in a ruthless court which viewed ruling women in a hostile manner. Of course, contemporary gender beliefs among courtiers did not lead to this view, and beginning with these events, Margaret became increasingly unpopular. Her bid for the regency failed, and Richard duke of York, later her enemy, filled that position instead.

Margaret probably viewed York as a very serious threat to her son’s position, for royal blood flowed in the veins of York and his family. Yet it is unlikely that there had been long-standing hostility and hatred between the two, as Dunn makes clear. Of course, factional discontent intensified following York’s appointment, culminating in the first Battle of St Albans in 1455 whereby Margaret’s ally, the duke of Somerset, was murdered, and York’s party emerged triumphant. However, York was forced to resign the protectorate in 1456, allowing Margaret to regain a sense of political authority within the English court. She and Edward departed from London to take up residence in Kenilworth, before being joined in August by the king, who later recovered miraculously from his illness. Margaret played a strong and active role in her son’s household, controlling appointments to his council and ensuring that her supporters within the Lancastrian monarchy filled vital roles. A reconciliation between the Yorkists and Lancastrians was sought by King Henry in 1458, known as the ‘Loveday’, where the queen was to walk with her enemy York hand-in-hand in a procession in the streets of London. However, it was nothing but a sham, and factional discontent had worsened by spring 1459.

Further battles, in what became known as the Wars of the Roses, occurred shortly afterwards, which Margaret was to play a prominent role in – allegedly, she watched the battle of Bloreheath from Mucklestone church tower, a story which Dunn dismisses as false.[17] Nonetheless, it does indicate that Margaret had taken over the reins of the Lancastrian government in this period of time following her husband’s intermittent illnesses and his ever-present political weaknesses and ineptitude. Following Henry’s capture at Northampton in 1460, Margaret and her son fled to Scotland, and following the Yorkists’ victory at Towton in 1461, which culminated in the accession of Edward IV, the Lancastrian royal family again fled to Scotland for safety.

The next 10 years saw Margaret attempting to regain the crown, which she saw as rightfully hers. Contemporaries, who resented powerful women in prominent government positions, characterised her as scheming and ruthless, but a more nuanced position allows us to view her efforts as commendable, in a way similar to those of Katherine of Aragon’s some seventy years later although in an entirely different context: she believed that she and her husband were the rightful king and queen of England, and she was determined to preserve her family’s inheritance. While prominent nobles, such as Somerset, Exeter and Pembroke remained loyal to the Lancastrians, a lack of money and committed political backing severely hampered Margaret’s efforts to regain the crown.

In 1462, Margaret and her son departed for France, perhaps hoping for more effective aid there. A meeting with the French king Louis XI was fairly successful: Margaret promised to renounce Calais to the French in return for a loan of 20,000 francs. A mutual friendship was later signed. Yet the period 1463-1468 was a dismal failure for Margaret, as Louis renounced his promises and the weakening of the Lancastrian cause. However, the growing disaffection of Margaret’s enemy York’s son Warwick, known as ‘the Kingmaker’, with the English king meant a new development in Margaret’s condition. Although Margaret initially refused to listen to Warwick when he journeyed to France, she was later encouraged to listen to his promises, agreeing to the marriage of her son Edward to Warwick’s daughter Anne Neville. Later sailing to England, Margaret’s cause fell irrevocably apart in 1471 following the brief return of her husband to the kingship. Margaret was informed of her son’s death in battle, something which must have meant her world fell apart. She was later brought in a carriage as a prisoner through the streets of London, followed by King Edward in his triumphant procession through London. Henry VI, her husband, was probably murdered that night in May 1471 in the Tower. The fact that both her husband and heir had died completely changed Margaret’s position, and the grief and shock she must have experienced is unimaginable.

Not much is known about Margaret’s final decade, but she died in August 1482, a tragic and obscure ending to an initially glittering career and eventual failure. She was buried in Angers Cathedral, neglected by her family, forced to renounce her claims to the Angevin inheritance by King Louis. Yet, as Dunn concludes, ‘of all medieval queens consort, Margaret has received some of the harshest criticism from both contemporary commentators and later historians’, which Maurer of course exemplifies through criticising conceptions of Margaret as a ‘bitch’ and ‘she-wolf’.[18] Dunn’s conclusion is compelling: ‘... she was subsequently forced, by political circumstance and the weakness of her husband, to take on a much more active role in politics in order to protect both her own position and that of her son’.[19] Yet, to most people, like Isabella queen of Edward II and Anne Boleyn, Margaret remains a ‘she-wolf’, an unnaturally ruthless and powerful queen consort who meddled in politics enthusiastically, a place not fit for a medieval woman. Surely we should alter our views of her and recognise her for what she was: a strong, intelligent, pragmatic woman who sought to preserve her family’s inheritance and retain stability within the English monarchy. Her husband’s madness and the factional discontent and corruption pervading the court can hardly be blamed on her. It is time to reappraise our views of this mysterious, but notorious, queen of England.

---

[1] H. E. Maurer, Margaret of Anjou: Queenship and Power in Late Medieval England (The Boydell Press, 2003), p. 1.

[2] R. A. Griffiths, The Reign of Henry VI (Berkeley, 1981), quoted in Maurer, Margaret of Anjou, p. 2.

[3] Maurer, Margaret of Anjou, p. 3.

[4] R. M. Warnicke, The Rise and Fall of Anne Boleyn: Family politics at the court of Henry VIII (Cambridge, 1989), p. 57.

[5] C. Byrne, ‘Katherine Howard and the Importance of Gender History’, The Historian 2 (March 2013), 58-62; also available on www.thehistoryfiles.com/katherine-howard-and-the-importance-of-gender-history/1100/.

[6] Maurer, Margaret of Anjou, pp. 4-5.

[7] Ibid., p. 4. See also my article on Katherine Howard for similar points.

[8] Diana E. S. Dunn, ‘Margaret [Margaret of Anjou] (1430-1482), queen of England, consort of Henry VI’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (2004).

[9] Maurer, Margaret of Anjou, p. 17.

[10] Dunn, ‘Margaret, queen of England’. 

[11] Dunn, ‘Margaret queen of England’.

[12] CSP, Milan, p. 19, quoted in Maurer, Margaret of Anjou, p. 23.

[13] Dunn, ‘Margaret queen of England’.

[14] Warnicke, Anne Boleyn.

[15] Dunn, ‘Margaret queen of England’.

[16] Ibid.

[17] Ibid.

[18] Ibid, Maurer.

[19] Ibid.