Margaret Beaufort catapulted the Tudors to the throne. But that wasn’t her original plan

Who was responsible for the ascendency of the Tudor dynasty, defining over a century of English history? There might not be a single answer – but Margaret Beaufort must surely take as much credit as anyone.

Often depicted as a Game of Thrones-like schemer, Beaufort could be portrayed as a calculating woman who orchestrated the rise of her son, later Henry VII – and in doing so, sank the fortunes of the Plantagenets while simultaneously ending decades of ferocious civil war.

But how much of that view rests on hindsight?

Speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast, historian Lauren Johnson explains that, rather than following a carefully drawn blueprint for royal success, Margaret’s manoeuvring was born out of constant – though certainly canny – adaptation to changing and dangerous circumstances. Her relationship with her son, and her ambitions for his future, developed gradually. Indeed, in the first phase of her motherhood she seemed to want nothing to do with him.

A kingdom in crisis

Henry was born during the opening phase of the Wars of the Roses, which rumbled on for some three decades from 1455. This was a series of intermittent conflicts between rival branches of the English royal family: the House of Lancaster and the House of York. Both factions claimed descent from King Edward III, and competed for the throne.

Henry Tudor’s claim came through his young mother. Margaret was a descendant of John of Gaunt, a son of Edward III, though through a line that had originally been barred from royal succession. This made Henry’s claim relatively weak, especially compared with rival Yorkist claimants.

At the time of his birth, there was no clear expectation that he would ever become king.

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Henry was born on 28 January 1457 at Pembroke Castle, south Wales. His mother, Margaret, was only 13 years old. In the 15th century, noble girls were technically eligible for marriage at the age of 12 onwards, but actual childbirth at such an age was exceptionally rare – and dangerous.

“She was probably physically, as well as psychologically, damaged by the experience,” Johnson says. “We are not talking about a fully grown woman but a very young girl.”

Margaret was also isolated at Pembroke Castle, far from her family in England. Adding to that, her husband, Edmund Tudor, had died months earlier, leaving her an exceptionally young widow in a politically unstable landscape. “She has none of… her immediate female support network,” Johnson notes. Childbirth in this period was typically a communal and female-centred event, attended by midwives and relatives. Margaret appears to have faced it largely without any such support.

Distance, not maternal focus

The months following the birth of her son challenge the later image of Margaret as an intensely focused, domineering mother.

“I think it’s really telling that, within two months of childbirth, she sets off across Wales to go and arrange another marriage,” Johnson explains. Travel in 15th-century Britain was slow, physically demanding and potentially dangerous – especially for a woman recovering from childbirth.

“She’s still going to be suffering the physical after-effects,” Johnson says.

The implication is that she must have been desperate to escape Pembroke Castle – and connections to her former husband. She also left behind her infant son. This was not entirely unusual among the nobility – children were often fostered in other households –but, says Johnson, it seems as if “she gets away from that child as quickly as she can.”

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Within a year, Margaret had remarried and established a new life in Lincolnshire. Henry, meanwhile, remained in Wales under the care of male guardians.

There’s no evidence of any emotional closeness between Margaret and her child at that stage, and certainly no clever political designs for him. “That baby is actually the source of a lot of pain and difficulty for her,” Johnson says.

So, for much of his early life, Henry grew up at a distance from his mother, and “there isn’t much of a relationship in the early years,” Johnson explains.

This reflects both aristocratic norms and Margaret’s specific circumstances. Noble children were frequently raised in other households to build alliances and receive training. Even so, the separation between Margaret and her son is stark. “As far as we know, the first time she visits him is when he is about 10 or 11,” Johnson says.

A gradual shift in priorities

By the mid-1460s, Margaret’s attitude toward her son began to change. One likely factor was the absence of other children: Margaret had expected to have more with her new husband, but didn’t.

“Margaret must think: ‘If Henry is it, I need to invest more in him’,” Johnson says.

This marks a turning point at which Henry clearly became more central to her thinking, not necessarily as a future king but certainly as her only heir.

In 1471, Henry’s own situation became far more precarious. After major Yorkist victories, the Lancastrian cause effectively collapsed. Leading figures were killed, and Henry – one of the last viable Lancastrian heirs – was forced into exile in Brittany.

Meanwhile, in England, the Yorkist King Edward IV strengthened his rule. “He kills a number of Margaret’s cousins,” Johnson notes, eliminating rivals.

• Read more | Did the Tudors invent the Wars of the Roses?

In this context, it would have been extremely dangerous for Henry to return to England. “I think Margaret, quite rightly, is thinking he should not come back,” Johnson says.

By the early 1480s, though, the political situation appeared more stable.

Edward IV was firmly in power, and there were discussions about bringing Henry back safely. Indeed, with Margaret’s involvement, “there start to be whispers of a marriage alliance,” between Henry and one of Edward’s daughters – a sign that the king was trying to decisively end the internecine violence.

This was a pragmatic solution but still, says Johnson, “Margaret wasn’t trying to manoeuvre her son onto the throne.”

Crisis and opportunity

That changed in 1483.

Edward IV died unexpectedly. His 12-year-old son briefly succeeded him as Edward V, but within weeks the boy’s uncle seized power, having himself crowned as Richard III. The disappearance of Edward V and his younger brother Richard of Shrewsbury, Duke of York – the Princes in the Tower – further destabilised the Plantagenet dynasty.

The threat to Henry’s life – as a potential rival to the new king – was so great that “there’s no way he can come back. And it is only then that [Margaret] starts to manoeuvre for Henry to become a rebel,” Johnson explains.

Margaret’s role in the political rise of her son then became far more active. She began to build alliances among disaffected nobles, coordinating support and promoting Henry as an alternative ruler. These efforts culminated in Henry’s invasion. Landing in Wales on 7 August 1485, he won a pivotal victory at the battle of Bosworth just over two weeks later – during which Richard III was killed. After the clash, Henry was crowned king.

In hindsight, Margaret might well seem like the primary architect of a new dynasty. But, as Johnson says, this perspective smooths over decades of complexity and uncertainty when Margaret had no plans for Henry to become a king.

Lauren Johnson was speaking to Emily Briffett on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.