Henry VII: Who Died and Made Him King?

What is arguably the most interesting dynasty in English royal history almost never came to be. Before the Tudors of Wales became the Tudors, Richard III, head of the house of York, sat on the throne. But during one little battle, Henry Tudor and his guys swept in and finished him off with their weapons. When Richard III's bones were discovered under a Leicester parking lot in 2012, they showed evidence of fatal blows. A sword had entered his skull on one end and came out the other after slicing through his brain, and another segment of his skull had been whacked clear away. The king was dead, long live the new king, Henry VII!

But who did this Henry think he was? Primogeniture, the tradition of passing the crown on from father to oldest son, had been all the rage in England for about four hundred years. Richard III had no surviving heirs when he died and the rest of the children on the York side were either freshly dead (the little princes in the Tower) or female (definitely a problem). But how did Henry Tudor enter the picture?

First, let's talk about Henry himself. His mother, Margaret Beaufort (a powerhouse in an itty-bitty package) was pregnant with him at age thirteen, not unusual for that time period. His father was captured during the Wars of the Roses and died in prison, before his son was born. Even as a boy, this kid oozed self-confidence, so much so that Henry VI stated he was one to whom "both we and our adversaries must yield, and give over the domain." Though his mother remarried later, Henry spent a lot of time with his uncle Jasper, and it was Jasper who took him to France when he was a teenager. As someone with a claim to the throne, Henry was safer in France than in Wales.

The Wars of the Roses were a series of civil wars between two sides of the same family. (This is known today in some families as "the holidays.") The house of York was on one side; the house of Lancaster was on the other. This massive family feud carried on for about thirty years. Henry was the last surviving possibility for the Lancastrians, but the Yorkists were currently in charge in the form of Richard III.

Shortly after his dear brother, Edward IV, died (and Edward's son became Edward V), Richard took the throne for himself. He convinced Parliament that his two nephews were illegitimate because their father was betrothed to another woman before he married their mother. At that time, betrothal held as much weight as marriage, so Richard had no trouble declaring the boys bastards (so much for the one being Edward V; now he was just plain old Edward) and imprisoning them in the Tower of London.

Edward, age twelve, and Richard, age ten, have since been referred to as "the little princes in the Tower," who were seen in the grounds occasionally for a few months after their imprisonment ... and then vanished altogether. In 1674, a chest containing the skeletons of two adolescents was found by workmen who were demolishing stairs leading to the White Tower. While the fate of the two princes has never been determined for certain, many believe these remains were the royal boys. If they were, in fact, murdered, and by whom, is one of English history's enduring mysteries to this day.

Usurper or not, Richard III had only been king for a scant two years when Henry Tudor felt the time was right and whipped up an army of fellow twenty-somethings, marching off to meet Richard and his own army in Leicestershire. Richard III, a seasoned military commander, charged down the hill with his men, who greatly outnumbered the Tudor troops. Henry's supporters assembled themselves into a human shield, which Richard et al hacked their way through laboriously with the intent of securing victory! But no dice: Richard was slain in nothing flat and died from the aforementioned wounds. And then, presto — there was Henry VII.

The new king, known to history as a frugal man, indulged in a rare splash-out for his coronation, a lush event intended to cement the image of the new dynasty and keep Richard — who? — from the minds of his subjects. He marketed himself as the "most Christian and most gracious prince, our most dread sovereign lord," well aware that an endorsement from God Himself was good enough for those medieval subjects.

While careful and conservative, Henry VII was charming and elegant as well, a slim man with wavy brown shoulder-length hair and a penchant for speaking fluent French. This sophistication and culture would certainly be seen in his eventual heir, albeit alongside indulgence and gregariousness. The dignity of his reign would later be cemented as propaganda in the form of the imposing terra-cotta bust created by Pietro Torrigiano, made near the end of Henry's life.

Because family feuds are uncomfortable, and thirty years is a long time, Henry VII was clever enough to wrap up the Wars of the Roses by marrying Elizabeth of York, Richard III's niece and the only family member left on the York side. It was an opportunistic move at first: pair up with the girl from the other side of the conflict, relocate her mother to a nunnery, bring peace and happiness to all of England (except, of course, the mother in the nunnery, as well as Richard III's supporters).

Elizabeth's own father was military mastermind Edward IV, the first Yorkist king and father of the little princes, so she was certainly a fine catch from a fine background. Pairing up with Edward's daughter was a smart move on Henry Tudor's part, and the fulfillment of a promise he'd made to her mother, Elizabeth Woodville, who expected Henry to avenge the deaths of her sons, the little princes in the Tower. The Welshman was psyched to do so, and as word of the assumed murder of the princes spread, Richard III was becoming more unpopular by the day. This created the perfect opportunity for Henry to make his move on the battlefield, and then in marriage.

The nice surprise for Henry VII was that his lovely blue-eyed blonde was kind, generous, liked to dance and hunt, and kept greyhounds. This was a refreshing combination in a medieval princess, and he couldn't pass it up. Unlike their successors, Henry VII and his Queen of Hearts didn't have fertility issues. Elizabeth gave birth to their first child, Prince Arthur, just eight months after their wedding. Six children followed, though only three survived into their teens.

The oldest girl, Margaret, was tearfully handed over to James IV of Scotland in marriage, in the hopes that England and Scotland could finally play nicely. Some years down the road, her husband and his army would head south to challenge Henry VIII and his control over that northern land. An arrow through the jaw later, at Flodden Field, James IV was no more, leaving his baby son and future father of Mary Queen of Scots as king of Scotland. Pay attention, because that point will be...