Free The House of Tudor by Alison Plowden
Authors: Alison Plowden
was a humane man with no relish for shedding blood, guilty or innocent, and Warwick’s death upset him - he became noticeably more devout and looked ill. All the same, once the sad corpse of Edward Plantagenet had been carried up-river to Bisham Abbey (at Henry’s expense) to be buried among his Montague ancestors, the King could turn to planning the future of his own young family with a good deal more confidence.
The Tudor nursery had been filling up over the past ten years. In November 1489 Queen Elizabeth had given birth to her second child, a daughter christened Margaret after her grandmother who stood gossip, or godmother, and produced a useful present of a silver and gilt chest full of gold pieces. Eighteen months later, on 28 June 1491, came another son, Henry, born at Greenwich, and in 1492 another daughter, Elizabeth, who lived only three years. A third daughter, Mary, appeared in March 1495, and a third son, Edmund, in February 1499.
The younger members of the family spent a lot of their time at Eltham Palace in Kent, and in 1499 Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam records how he walked over from Lord Mountjoy’s house with his friend Thomas More to see the royal children. While the company was at dinner Prince Henry, a self-confident eight-year-old who already had ‘something of royalty in his demeanour’, sent Erasmus a note ‘to challenge something from his pen’, and that renowned scholar was rather annoyed with More for not having warned him to come prepared.
As the year drew to a close, the House of Tudor faced the new century with confidence. It had survived some determined attempts to dislodge it and its enemies were in disarray - Margaret of Burgundy had been obliged to apologize to Henry. There would be no more apparitions of ghostly Plantagenet princes and already the feuding of York and Lancaster was fading into history. The Tudor King could feel secure on his throne. A new generation was growing up, ready to take over his work. In only fifteen years it was an achievement of which to be proud.
3: A WONDER FOR WISE MEN
To speake againe of Henries praise,
His princely liberal hand
Gave gifts and graces many waies
Unto this famous land:
For which the Lord him blessings sent,
And multiplied his store;
In that he left more wealth to us
Than any king before.
The year 1500 brought sorrow to the royal family when, on 19 June, Prince Edmund died at Hatfield at the age of sixteen months. The pathetic little coffin was brought to London on the following Monday and given a state funeral in Westminster Abbey at a cost of £242 11s 8d with the Duke of Buckingham officiating as chief mourner.
Apart from the fact that it was terrifying, no one knows the exact rate of infant mortality among ordinary people in the early sixteenth century but even in families where the best care was available, parents could think themselves lucky if they reared three babies out of five. The Tudor nurseries were under the direct supervision of the King’s mother, who had drawn up detailed instructions to be followed by the officials in charge. There was to be a Lady Governor to oversee the nursery nurse; the wet nurse’s food and drink was to be carefully ‘assayed’ (that is, tasted) at all times while ‘shee giveth the child sucke’; and there was to be a physician always on duty to stand over the nurse at every meal to make sure she was feeding the child properly.
In spite of these and other precautions, only four out of Queen Elizabeth’s seven children (there had been another boy who died at birth) had survived their first, most perilous years. It was not a particularly good average, but neither was it unusually low. The King and Queen, like so many other bereaved parents, stoically accepted the will of God, and turned to the more cheerful business of preparing for the arrival of their first daughter-in-law.
Negotiations for a marriage between the King of England’s eldest son and the Infanta Catalina, youngest
The Tudor nursery had been filling up over the past ten years. In November 1489 Queen Elizabeth had given birth to her second child, a daughter christened Margaret after her grandmother who stood gossip, or godmother, and produced a useful present of a silver and gilt chest full of gold pieces. Eighteen months later, on 28 June 1491, came another son, Henry, born at Greenwich, and in 1492 another daughter, Elizabeth, who lived only three years. A third daughter, Mary, appeared in March 1495, and a third son, Edmund, in February 1499.
The younger members of the family spent a lot of their time at Eltham Palace in Kent, and in 1499 Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam records how he walked over from Lord Mountjoy’s house with his friend Thomas More to see the royal children. While the company was at dinner Prince Henry, a self-confident eight-year-old who already had ‘something of royalty in his demeanour’, sent Erasmus a note ‘to challenge something from his pen’, and that renowned scholar was rather annoyed with More for not having warned him to come prepared.
As the year drew to a close, the House of Tudor faced the new century with confidence. It had survived some determined attempts to dislodge it and its enemies were in disarray - Margaret of Burgundy had been obliged to apologize to Henry. There would be no more apparitions of ghostly Plantagenet princes and already the feuding of York and Lancaster was fading into history. The Tudor King could feel secure on his throne. A new generation was growing up, ready to take over his work. In only fifteen years it was an achievement of which to be proud.
3: A WONDER FOR WISE MEN
To speake againe of Henries praise,
His princely liberal hand
Gave gifts and graces many waies
Unto this famous land:
For which the Lord him blessings sent,
And multiplied his store;
In that he left more wealth to us
Than any king before.
The year 1500 brought sorrow to the royal family when, on 19 June, Prince Edmund died at Hatfield at the age of sixteen months. The pathetic little coffin was brought to London on the following Monday and given a state funeral in Westminster Abbey at a cost of £242 11s 8d with the Duke of Buckingham officiating as chief mourner.
Apart from the fact that it was terrifying, no one knows the exact rate of infant mortality among ordinary people in the early sixteenth century but even in families where the best care was available, parents could think themselves lucky if they reared three babies out of five. The Tudor nurseries were under the direct supervision of the King’s mother, who had drawn up detailed instructions to be followed by the officials in charge. There was to be a Lady Governor to oversee the nursery nurse; the wet nurse’s food and drink was to be carefully ‘assayed’ (that is, tasted) at all times while ‘shee giveth the child sucke’; and there was to be a physician always on duty to stand over the nurse at every meal to make sure she was feeding the child properly.
In spite of these and other precautions, only four out of Queen Elizabeth’s seven children (there had been another boy who died at birth) had survived their first, most perilous years. It was not a particularly good average, but neither was it unusually low. The King and Queen, like so many other bereaved parents, stoically accepted the will of God, and turned to the more cheerful business of preparing for the arrival of their first daughter-in-law.
Negotiations for a marriage between the King of England’s eldest son and the Infanta Catalina, youngest