Margaret Tudor: The Life of Henry VIII's Sister

Henry was devastated by Elizabeth’s death and secluded himself for several weeks in order to privately mourn her. She had been a calming, soothing presence in his often troubled life for almost sixteen years, had won his trust and devotion and borne him several children. For many people, Elizabeth of York was the very epitome of how a queen should be – beautiful, kind, gracious and, outwardly at least, meek and the outpouring of genuine grief, both at home and abroad, that greeted her death only served to prove just how beloved she had been. For her three surviving children, Elizabeth’s death was a dreadful blow that would almost certainly haunt them for the rest of their lives. Prince Henry, who had been extremely close to his mother, was particularly affected by his bereavement and it has been suggested that this early loss of the woman he had considered to be the epitome of perfect womanhood led to his later dramatic matrimonial history as he searched for someone who could compare to the idealised memory of his mother.

Henry was thirsting for glory and joining the Papal league gave him a golden opportunity to resume hostilities with the French, whom he perceived to be the natural enemies of England – and with good cause. Naturally he was keen for James to join him but the Scottish king was hesitant to act as he knew that most of his nobles favoured an alliance with France and had also received an urgent request from Louis XII that he renew the Auld Alliance and join forces with the French against their gathering enemies.

The royal children were brought from their nursery for the occasion and would often have been seen during the festivities, when the advent fast was broken with days of feasting and dancing. Unlike modern children, Tudor offspring had to wait until New Year’s Day for the distribution of presents, which might include gold or silver plate for their dinner table, costly fabrics to make their clothes for the coming year, furs, richly illustrated books and sporting equipment like velvet covered saddles. Despite his much later reputation as a royal miser, Henry VII was a generous husband and father and showered gifts and treats upon his wife and children, ensuring that their chambers were sumptuously furnished, that they were splendidly dressed, and that everything they owned was the very best that money could buy.

Whether by accident or design, over two years would pass before Margaret fulfilled her duty by conceiving a child and securing the succession. In the meantime, James continued to cherish his illegitimate children, even raising a few eyebrows by bestowing his dead brother’s Archbishopric of Saint Andrews, one of the richest and most important church positions in Scotland, on his eldest son, Alexander Stewart (which had the additional benefit of meaning that the rich revenues of the demesne of Saint Andrews would end up in the crown’s coffers until Alexander was old enough to be properly consecrated).

The years of diplomatic negotiation and then months of feverish preparation came to an end on 27 June 1503 when Margaret finally left Richmond Palace for her new life. Unexpectedly, her father decided to accompany her for the first stage of her epic journey, which would take her to the most northern reaches of his kingdom before she crossed the border into Scotland. Henry had been left depressed and prematurely aged by the loss of his wife just five months earlier and doubtless didn’t feel quite ready to let his eldest daughter go too, even under happier circumstances and, although she would still be inhabiting the same relatively small island, there were no guarantees that they would ever get the opportunity to see each other again.

The international community were relieved and pleased to hear that Scotland and England had finally come to an agreement after so many years of uncertainty. On 15 April 1502, Ferdinand and Isabella wrote to their Ambassador in England in order to express their pleasure that the marriage treaty had at last been concluded to the satisfaction of all parties and the couple duly betrothed. The Spanish monarchs had taken a great interest in the match, as they believed that it would significantly increase the security of their daughter Catherine if her adoptive country England was at peace with its neighbour Scotland. However, by the time their congratulations had arrived in London, Prince Arthur was dead at just fifteen-years-old, their daughter was a widow mere months after she had been married amid such enormous pageantry, the English court was in mourning and everything had changed forever.

It might have been easier to have the unfortunate young earl, who was said to be a simpleton but was more than likely just very naïve due to the fact that he’d spent more than half of his life inside the Tower, quietly murdered, but if Henry had learned anything during his fourteen years on the throne it was that boys who vanished inside the thick stone walls of the tower had a tendency to ‘reappear’ at the most inopportune moments and if Warwick was to be killed off, then it would have to be done publicly and with every appearance of legal process.

However, this was the second time that someone had come forward claiming to be the earl and understandably, Ferdinand and Isabel were beginning to fear that one day someone might just let the real thing out of the Tower and help him take the throne – which would not bode well for the future prospects of their daughter Catalina. Henry was dismayed but not in the least bit surprised when Ferdinand of Aragon intimated that there was no possible way that his daughter could set foot in England until Warwick had been neutralised.

Although Ferdinand and Isabel had originally informed Henry that they would be dispatching their daughter to him once she had reached her fourteenth birthday in December, they decided to postpone when another pretender, this time claiming to be the queen’s hapless cousin the Earl of Warwick, made an appearance and was swiftly captured and executed before he could garner any popular support. Edward Plantagenet, the real Earl of Warwick had been imprisoned in the Tower for fourteen years, having been deposited there at the age of 10 after his uncle Richard III’s defeat at Bosworth. The only son of Richard’s scapegrace brother George, Duke of Clarence, he was considered by some to be the true male Yorkist heir to the throne with a far stronger claim than that of King Henry. To date, Henry had actually treated him very well, although he had obviously balked at letting the boy leave the Tower and have any sort of life of his own.