Much as the vast majority of medieval royal marriages, Margaret of Anjou’s marriage was one of pure political necessity over which she had no influence. She would in theory live her life at the mercy of the policies of her husband, at the often cruel demands of war and political alliances. Her life should have been governed by duty and obedience to her position as wife to King Henry VI.
But then, by a quirk of fate, Margaret was handed ultimate power in England when her husband was struck down with a serious mental instability. War raged around her, the crown in danger from Henry’s enemies, her husband incapable of dealing with the crisis. What would be the future for this young woman? Would she emerge with a bright reputation as a medieval Queen who would face the dangers and conquer them? Or would she be condemned as a malevolent creature who lacked both morals and empathy.
William Shakespeare has much to answer for. His medieval histories were written with a political agenda in mind and Queen Margaret did not fare well. She is shown as a vengeful and violent woman, the She-Wolf of France, who mocks her captive enemy Richard Duke of York before stabbing him to death in cold blood. What’s more she is accused of adultery, bringing into question the legitimate royal birth of her son Edward of Westminster.
Stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. Not one womanly attribute here. This is the Duke of York’s assessment of Queen Margaret in Henry VI, Part III before his death.
It makes a fine drama, but is it accurate? Was Margaret this uncompromisingly ruthless woman who created her own downfall and that of the Lancastrian royal family?
From the beginning the young Queen, when she arrived in England in 1445 as the new bride, carried a burden on her shoulders. The purpose of the marriage was for Margaret to be the Dove of Peace, to bring an end to war between England and France, but many felt concern about this marriage with the niece of King Charles VII, the French enemy. She came with no dowry of any amount to soften the alliance, and all England achieved from the union was a short-lived truce. What’s more, Margaret’s role as the gentle dove was soon to be blighted by the ferocity of the Wars of the Roses which engulfed the whole of her married life.
Queen Margaret was expected to become pregnant rapidly, to give England an heir and secure the crown for the Lancastrians. Unfortunately it was was to be eight years before the birth of Prince Edward, a situation that was not made any easier by the descent into mental weakness of the King who at first did not even recognise the birth of his heir. Knowing its importance, Margaret went on pilgrimage to Walsingham to give fervent thanks to Our Lady for this precious gift. Yorkist enemies were quick to latch on to Henry’s fragility of mind and body, and so accused Margaret of shameful adultery to acquire the heir that her husband could not give her. There was no evidence of this, but that did not stop the accusations that Prince Edward was either a bastard or a changeling.
Women, even Queens, were expected to play a secondary role in marriage and in the political life of the realm. They did not rule. They did not lead armies into battle. Margaret, however, was descended from families famous for their dominant women who had no compunction in taking over the reins of power when necessary. Her paternal grandmother, Yolande of Aragon, with whom Margaret spent eight years of her childhood, had been Regent in Anjou for her eldest son, ruling the duchy and resisting English military pressure. Margaret’s mother Isabelle of Lorraine had claimed her husband’s rights and fought his wars when he was held captive awaiting ransom.
Thus tackling the dangers of politics and war was an ingrained vocation for women in Margaret’s family. They did not seek power for its own sake but when the need arose they had the ability and confidence to take charge. Margaret was only fifteen years old when she became Queen of England, but had inherited much of the confidence of her female antecedents and was prepared to use it during Henry’s inability to rule, to ensure the triumph of Lancaster at all costs, for the sake of Henry and particularly her son.
Does this make Margaret a heroine or a vicious She-Wolf? Can she be a heroine with such a bad press?
Margaret is accused of bloodshed and a savage vendetta against those who thwarted her ambitions. It has to be said that she was not at the Battle of Wakefield, she was not personally responsible for the death of Richard of York, although she might have rejoiced at seeing his head displayed on Micklegate Bar in York. She did however have a hand in the execution of those two knights, Bonville and Kyriell, who had held Henry prisoner, mostly for his own protection, at the second Battle of St Albans. The story says that Margaret asked her young son what should be done with the two knights. The child Prince Edward replied that their heads should be cut off. Here Margaret was not entirely innocent; she was not afraid of spilling blood to protect her family and send out a powerful message to her enemies. Power was more important than maternal instincts.
When facing defeat in England, Margaret refused to surrender, if that makes her a heroine. After the Yorkist victory for King Edward IV at the Battle of Towton, she and her young son were on the run in fear for their lives, to take refuge in Scotland, desperate to make an alliance to restore Henry to the throne. Margaret must cast herself at the feet of the Scottish Queen, to beg her to provide her with money and troops to return. She must swallow her pride and petition for help, much against her character, since the future of her son and husband depended on it. She was still prepared to do it and take to the battlefield.
Even with Scottish help, ultimately Margaret and the Prince were driven out of England, with Henry imprisoned in the Tower at the mercy of the Yorkists. In exile she was dependent on the help of Louis XI, King of France, the manipulative ‘spider’ of Europe. Would she ever return to England again? Would she ever be able to secure the inheritance of her son, or would this be exile for life? What would happen to Henry in the hands of his enemies? It is difficult to be critical of Margaret’s determination to take back King Henry’s birthright. With single-minded resolution, Margaret proved to be as admirably crafty and cunning as we might expect to lure the exiled Warwick onto her side. An uneasy alliance was agreed between Warwick and Margaret that neither of them wanted but that each must have. Warwick would lead the Lancastrian forces in invasion of England, while against all her desires, his younger daughter Anne would wed Margaret’s son Edward.
Thus Margaret returned, intent on victory, to rescue Henry and restore him to the throne.
Could Margaret rescue her reputation at the same time? Not so. All was disaster over which she had no control. In the final two battles of Barnet and Tewkesbury, Yorkist Edward IV emerged victorious; Warwick was killed and her son Prince Edward also. All was finally lost for her. Margaret was taken prisoner, her pride trampled on as she was paraded through the streets of London. On the following day Henry was murdered in his room in the Tower. Was Margaret to blame? More likely the disastrous outcome of civil war.
Now alone, Margaret wished to return to France but this would depend on the willingness of Kings Edward and Louis to make financial terms. She was powerless in an impossible situation with no one to speak for her. This Yorkist victory at Tewkesbury saw the end of the Lancastrian cause and the death of Prince Edward, a desperate ending for Margaret who must dredge something from the wreckage. This became impossible. Until her future could be decided she was placed in the custody of Alice Chaucer, Duchess of Suffolk. The rest was tragic indeed for the once proud Queen.
There was no one to plead Margaret’s cause. What a terrible price she must pay for the power-politics of the time. After King Louis agreed to pay a ransom for her, Margaret was sent home to France where, although she enjoyed freedom of sorts, King Louis wilfully stripped her of all her inheritance. Her father disowned her and abandoned her to her fate. She must pay the penalty of her inheritance and potential power if she was allowed freedom and ever decided to remarry. Thus Margaret was forced to give up to France all claims to her Anjou inheritance and was sent to live in seclusion as a pensioner of King Louis. With no resources of her own and no choice in her lifestyle, she lived out her life in poverty and historical silence – very different from the days when she had been the lynch pin in Lancaster’s military campaigns against the House of York.
Margaret of Anjou deserves more than condemnation from history. A woman in an impossible position, she was forced to suffer terrible loss and helplessness, the degradation of imprisonment and poverty at the hands of her family, abandoned by all, her inheritance and prestige denied her. This is a tale of courage in adversity. Of lack of choice for women who must see the death of their children before their own. It is a tragic story but one in which we must admire the protagonists who fight for what they see as their rights, accepting the consequences with some strength of character. It is a story of the courage of women when faced with insurmountable odds, but of their ultimate weakness in the face of political infighting. A tragic story but how brave these women were, how formidable in their own right.
Queen Margaret had a vision of her God-given duty, of what was demanded from her as wife to the hapless King Henry VI. She-Wolf or heroine? Perhaps we must admit to a careful interweaving of the two.
Anne O’Brien is a bestselling writer of historical fiction and the author of The Queen and the Countess.
