THE WAR THAT ROSE FROM THE DEAD
The battle of Bosworth is often regarded as the end point of the Wars of the Roses. But, argues Nathen Amin, the conflict rumbled on for another 20 years
On wresting the crown from Richard III at Bosworth in 1485, Henry VII sought to present himself as the unity candidate – the man chosen by God to reconcile the houses of York and Lancaster. Three decades of chaos and bloodletting were over – or so Henry hoped. The new king even adopted as his emblem the red rose, a little-known Lancastrian badge. This was combined with the white rose of his Yorkist-descended wife, Elizabeth, to create a double rose – a very visual symbol of reconciliation, peace and harmony.
Yet victory at Bosworth in 1485 did not bring to England “smooth-faced peace, with smiling aplenty and fair prosperous days”, as Shakespeare would later claim. Before the Wars of the Roses could truly be brought to a close, Henry had to navigate a tricky reign, crushing Yorkist pretenders and rebels, subduing a haughty nobility, replenishing the treasury, and outwitting his continental rivals to prevent the kind of foreign-backed deposition that had befallen previous kings of England.
That a fierce pitched battle for the crown was fought two years after Bosworth at Stoke Field proves that the Wars of the Roses smouldered on after the demise of Richard III.
So if this long civil war didn’t reach its climax in 1485, when did it come to an end? There is a solid argument that the wars concluded only with the death of Henry VII. The final years of his reign were tough for those subjects fearful of falling foul of an avaricious king, and for the monarch himself, anxiety-ridden over his dynasty’s future. With only one male heir – two sons having already died – the Tudor succession rested on fragile foundations.
Despite myriad illnesses towards the end of his life, Henry VII lived until April 1509, by which point his handsome, strong and scholarly heir was 17 years old and on the cusp of adulthood. By fending off his adversaries, Henry was able to accomplish what no English monarch had achieved for decades – the peaceful transferral of his crown to a son old enough to rule without a regent: Henry VIII. Henry VI, Edward IV and Richard III had all failed where the first Tudor king succeeded.
Despite attempts by historians to draw a line under the Wars of the Roses after Bosworth Field, this acrimonious conflict between implacable factions only truly ended with the accession of the popular, part-Lancastrian, part-Yorkist Henry VIII. As the poet John Skelto put it around the time of the younger Henry’s coronation: “The Rose both white and red, In one rose now doth grow.” that a formidable royal army was heading in their direction, fronted by an armour-clad king. Rather than stand and fight, Warbeck lost his nerve and surrendered.
As with Simnel, Henry granted Warbeck his life – though, following a failed escape attempt, the latter was imprisoned in the Tower of London. Seventeen months later, Warbeck was accused of conspiring with the Earl of Warwick, sealing both their fates. On 23 November 1499, Perkin Warbeck was hanged like a commoner at Tyburn, his body then hastily buried in an unmarked grave. Warwick was beheaded on Tower Hill.
Compassionate assassin
One question has captivated historians over the five centuries since these events unfolded: was Warbeck truly the prince he claimed to be? During his time at large, the story peddled by “Prince Richard” was that, while his brother Edward V was “miserably put to death”, the younger boy had been permitted to escape by a compassionate assassin. In a frustratingly vague account, he gave no indication who it was that ordered his brother’s murder, and mentioned no names or dates that can be corroborated.
After his capture, however, Warbeck confessed to being an imposter from Tournai, son of John Osbeck rather than Edward IV; tellingly, he confirmed this story on the gallows, moments before his death. This revelation has been questioned by some, who consider that it was contrived by the Tudor regime. However, there is an abundance of evidence in the Tournai historical record to support its accuracy, and independent investigations conducted by the French and Spanish also concluded that he was a fraud.
In the end, however, Warbeck’s identity matters not. Only one man emerged victorious from these years of strife – the original pretender, Henry VII. Between 1485 and 1499, Henry had invaded England, seized the crown in battle, married the princess, established a thriving dynasty, replenished the treasury, earned continental recognition from his peers and the papacy, suppressed a Cornish rebellion, and vanquished two serious challenges for his throne.
When later describing the character of Henry VII, Polydore Vergil noted how “his spirit was distinguished, wise and prudent; his mind was brave and resolute and never, even at moments of the greatest danger, deserted him”. It seems an apt summary of the greatest pretender of them all.