No wonder
William Shakespeare, when writing his Plantagenet history plays for the
London stage in the 1590s, eagerly seized on the dramatic potential of
so clear and compelling a story. But is it true? Certainly, kings did
fight a series of battles between 1455 and 1487 and the crown itself changed
hands several times. A high percentage of the nobility, and many gentry,
became involved at one time or another; thousands of countryfolk and townsmen
made up the rank and file of armies; and hundreds of lives were undoubtedly
lost. Yet it is all too easy to exaggerate both the scale and impact of
these wars, particularly if comparisons are made with the First and Second
World Wars in the twentieth century. Phases of more or less sustained
conflict, such as that between 1459 and 1461, were very much the exception
rather than the rule. England's ruling élite, particularly families having
royal blood flowing through their veins, bore the brunt of it all, but
even they often displayed considerable reluctance to take up arms. Many
nobles were either killed in the fighting or faced execution for having
backed the wrong side, but few, if any, prominent families became extinct
as a direct result of civil strife. Most people probably never became
involved in the wars at all; material destruction was both intermittent
and localised; agriculture and trade were only minimally disrupted; and
the country's religious and cultural life continued to flourish throughout. Why, at
a time when Henry V's spectacular victory over the French at Agincourt
in 1415 and subsequent conquest of most of northern France were still
within living memory, did England dissolve into civil war at all? The
main blame must fall on the shoulders of his son, the third Lancastrian
king, Henry VI (1422-1461), surely the most inept and incompetent of all
rulers of the English realm since the Norman Conquest of 1066. Maybe,
given his personal piety and deep religious convictions, he might have
made a decent enough monk but he had none of the qualities required for
successful kingship in the fifteenth century: he had few political or
man-management skills; he had no military prowess or capacity for generalship;
and, after he suffered a complete mental collapse in 1453, he probably
became little more than a political cipher, all too easily manipulated
by those around him. He certainly could not hold a candle to Richard,
Duke of York, no political genius himself, but who did have a strong claim
to the throne and spearheaded opposition to the Lancastrian regime in
the 1450s. Various factors help explain the onset of the Wars of the Roses:
Lancastrian/ Yorkist dynastic rivalry and ideological controversy; the
loss of virtually all Henry V's empire in France by the autumn of 1453;
economic recession in general and the chronic condition of the royal finances
in particular; private aristocratic feuds and escalating lawlessness;
and growing resentment at the power, wealth and influence of the clique
surrounding the king. Even so, it is difficult to avoid the conclusion
that, if Henry VI had not been the man he was and if his government had
not developed along the lines it did, the Wars of the Roses might never
have happened. As early
as February 1450 Henry VI's chief minister William de la Pole, Duke of
Suffolk, was impeached for treason and subsequently murdered; Jack Cade's
rebellion, the most serious popular uprising since the Peasants' Revolt
of 1381, engulfed south-eastern England in May and June; and, in the autumn,
Richard of York openly challenged the Lancastrian regime. Early in 1452,
having failed to rock the government by constitutional means, Richard
of York resorted to armed force. That failed too but, when the king completely
lost his marbles in the summer of 1453, York and his new northern aristocratic
allies the Nevilles (Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury and his son Richard
Neville, Earl of Warwick) eventually emerged triumphant and the duke became
protector of the realm in March 1454. It was a short-lived victory. Henry
Vl recovered at least most of his senses at the end of the year; York's
protectorate was terminated soon after; and, now excluded from the magic
circle of high politics once more and feeling seriously threatened, York
and the Nevilles proceeded to arm and, on 22 May 1455, successfully confronted
their rivals at the first battle of St Albans. Although little more than
a skirmish in the streets of an English market town between rival lords
and their retinues, however, this fight is conventionally regarded as
the beginning of the Wars of the Roses. As a result
of St Albans the balance of political advantage changed again; Henry VI
fell into Yorkist hands; and, when the king suffered another mental breakdown
in November 1455, Richard of York again became protector for a few months.
Again too, however, Henry's recovery put an end to that, not least as
a result of the determination of his formidable queen, Margaret of Anjou.
By the autumn of 1456, in fact, not only were York and his allies once
more out of office but they had been largely replaced by men close to
the queen. Thereafter, Margaret threw herself into factional politics
with ever- mounting vigour; by 1459 she was ready for a further showdown;
and, in the autumn of that year, civil strife erupted with a vengeance.
Indeed, in all probability, only Henry VI's own well-meaning if ultimately
futile efforts to promote peace and reconciliation (for instance, the
so-called Loveday of March 1458) and the reluctance of the majority of
the nobility to take up arms against their anointed king had prevented
an earlier renewal of conflict. When, on
23 September 1459, royal troops intercepted Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury,
in Staffordshire en route to join his son Warwick and Richard of
York at Ludlow in Shropshire, the result was an indecisive engagement
fought at Blore Heath near Newcastle-under-Lyme. Salisbury made it to
Ludlow but on the night of 12/13 October, when faced by the prospect of
fighting a much larger Lancastrian force, the Yorkist lords simply fled:
Richard of York took ship for Ireland, while Salisbury, Warwick and York's
eldest son Edward, Earl of March (the future Edward lV) escaped to Calais.
Soon afterwards the Coventry parliament (or the Parliament of Devils as
it was dubbed in Yorkist propaganda) condemned them as traitors and declared
their estates confiscated. Only force could now restore their position
and so, in June 1460, the Nevilles and Edward, Earl of March, sailed for
south-eastern England and secured control of London. On 10 July, battle
was joined once more outside Northampton. In another reversal of fortunes
victory went to the Yorkist lords, Henry VI fell into their hands (again!)
and when, in the autumn, Richard of York at last returned from Ireland,
he dramatically claimed the throne for himself. This seems to have taken
virtually everyone by surprise. After a prolonged and probably heated
debate in parliament, however, a compromise was cobbled together whereby
Henry VI would retain the crown during his lifetime but, after his death,
his son Edward of Lancaster would be disinherited in favour of the house
of York. Stalwart
Lancastrians in general, and Queen Margaret of Anjou in particular, rejected
the so-called Act of Accord out of hand and raised a new army. On 30 December
1460 at Wakefield the wheel of fortune turned yet again. Richard of York
was killed in the field; Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury was executed
the following day; and, in January 1461, the queen and her largely northern
army marched south. On 17 February it defeated a force commanded by Richard
Neville, Earl of Warwick, at the second battle of St Albans and Henry
Vl was reunited with his wife once more. London, however, baulked at the
prospect of hosting so notoriously undisciplined an army. Perhaps foolishly,
the queen made no attempt to take the city by force but, instead, retreated
back to the north. Meanwhile, Richard of York's eldest son Edward, Earl
of March won the battle of Mortimer's Cross in Shropshire on 2 February,
joined Warwick and, together, the two earls entered the capital amidst
considerable enthusiasm. A few days later, on 4 March 1461, the eighteen-year-old
Edward was proclaimed king.
Clearly,
Henry Vl was even less capable of governing now than he had been a decade
earlier and the government established in his name was very much dominated
by Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick. Over the next six months he struggled
to reconcile as many Yorkist supporters as he could, as well as trying
to ensure continued Lancastrian backing for his fragile regime but, in
practice, he found it almost impossible to satisfy one faction without
alienating another. The failure of Margaret of Anjou and Edward of Lancaster
to leave France hardly helped. Instead, it was Edward IV who landed in
northern England in March 1471; he attracted increasing support as he
marched south, including that of a now disgruntled George, Duke of Clarence,
received an enthusiastic reception in London (as he had in 1461) and,
on 14 April, the extraordinary battle of Barnet was fought in a thick
mist. Here Edward won a famous victory and, most importantly, Warwick
himself was killed in the field. Ironically, on the very same day as Barnet
was fought, Margaret of Anjou set foot on English soil for the first time
since 1463; the Lancastrians were forced into battle at Tewkesbury on
4 May; and, once more, Edward IV triumphed. Edward of Lancaster lost his
life, his mother was captured and, soon afterwards, Henry Vl was murdered
in the Tower of London. Insofar as the fifteenth-century civil wars were
dynastic struggles fought between the houses of Lancaster and York, they
really ended in 1471. The final
phases of the Wars of the Roses resulted from divisions within the York
family itself, coupled with the emergence of Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond,
as a new contender for the crown. When Edward IV died suddenly and prematurely
on 9 April 1483 his eldest son was only a boy; the Yorkist court was split
and the Woodvilles, in particular, were unpopular; and, as a result, the
dead king's only surviving brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester, became
protector of the realm on 10 May. Within a few weeks, on 26 June 1483,
he seized the throne for himself as Richard III. Since 1471, when he fought
for Edward IV at both Barnet and Tewkesbury, he had served his brother
loyally in the north of England and northerners formed the solid core
of his support in 1483. Many in southern England were disgruntled, however,
and, as rumours spread that Richard III’s nephews (Edward V and Richard,
Duke of York) had been murdered in the Tower, a major rebellion broke
out in the south and west. The new king responded vigorously and the rising
collapsed ignominiously. Yet by then, ominously, Henry Tudor, Earl of
Richmond, had emerged as a potentially serious rival, particularly once
his marriage to Edward IV’s daughter Elizabeth of York was mooted. Although
Richard III made considerable efforts to widen the basis of his support
in the political nation in 1484/5 he met with only limited success and,
when Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, mounted an invasion in the summer
of 1485, Richard’s reliance on his own affinity (especially northerners)
remained paramount. Certainly, when Richard III at last faced at Bosworth
his rival on the battlefield early on the morning of 22 August, he was
largely backed by the same men who had helped bring him to power two years
earlier. Many of his supporters probably fought for him with vigour, and
his own courage is beyond question, but the king's death in the midst
of the action made the fall of the Yorkist dynasty inevitable. Even after
the victory was won, however, the virtually unknown Henry VII was by no
means secure on the throne; luck rather than good judgement had probably
been paramount in his victory at Bosworth; and he had neither the background
nor training for kingship. No wonder he became so obsessed with establishing
the new Tudor dynasty on the throne, even after he had married Elizabeth
of York, and countering threats (both real and imaginary) to his security.
Only after a major rebellion had been put down in 1487 did his possession
of the crown become increasingly unassailable. For that reason the battle
of Stoke, fought on 16 June 1487, rather than Bosworth, can be regarded
as the end of the wars of the Roses.
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