Living on the Brink: Poverty and Survival in Tudor England.

Living on the Brink: Poverty and Survival in Tudor England

Have you ever wondered what poverty looked like in Tudor England, and how it shaped the daily lives of those who lived at the very edge of survival? Well let’s find out.

Poverty in the sixteenth century was not hidden or exceptional; it was a constant and visible presence in towns, villages, and households across the country. For many people, being poor was not a temporary hardship but a lifelong condition shaped by birth, geography, health, and forces far beyond individual control. Tudor society was rigidly hierarchical, and while the idea of social mobility existed in theory, in practice most people remained where they were born, struggling to survive on fragile foundations.

Most Tudor people lived close to poverty even in good times. Wages for labourers were low and often failed to keep pace with rising prices, especially during periods of inflation caused by population growth and coinage debasement. Employment was insecure and seasonal. Agricultural workers might find steady labour at harvest time, only to face months of unemployment in winter. Craftsmen and urban workers depended on fluctuating demand, illness, or the goodwill of employers. Very few people had savings. A single bad harvest, a sudden illness, an accident, or the death of a breadwinner could push a family from hardship into outright desperation.

Food dominated daily anxiety. Bread formed the foundation of the Tudor diet, especially for the poor, and even small rises in grain prices could have devastating consequences. When harvests failed, families stretched meals with thin pottage made from oats or barley, added peas or roots when they could, or went hungry altogether. Meat was rare for the poor, usually limited to scraps, offal, or occasional salted fish. Hunger was not always dramatic or sudden; for many it was a slow, grinding reality marked by constant undernourishment, weakness, and vulnerability to disease.

Urban poverty was especially visible. Towns such as London attracted migrants hoping for work, but overcrowding and competition were fierce. Many poor families lived in single rooms, sometimes entire households crammed into damp, dark spaces with little ventilation. Sanitation was primitive. Waste ran through open streets, clean water was scarce, and disease spread quickly. Plague outbreaks hit poor neighbourhoods hardest, as residents lacked both the space to isolate and the money to flee. Injury or sickness often meant disaster, because a labourer who could not work could not earn. Medical care was limited, and charity was uncertain and uneven.

Rural poverty came with different pressures but no less hardship. One of the most significant changes of the Tudor period was the enclosure of common land. Common land had allowed villagers to graze animals, collect firewood, and grow small amounts of food. When landowners fenced off these shared spaces for private profit, often for sheep farming, villagers lost vital resources that had helped them survive. Families who once supplemented wages with common rights became entirely dependent on paid work. When work dried up, hunger followed. Many were forced to leave their villages altogether, becoming travelling labourers who walked long distances in search of seasonal employment. This life brought instability, exhaustion, and suspicion from settled communities.

Children experienced poverty intensely and from an early age. Many were sent into service at a very young age, not as a route to opportunity but as a strategy to reduce the number of mouths to feed at home. Service could be harsh, with long hours, strict discipline, and little protection. Other children were apprenticed under difficult conditions or pushed into begging alongside their parents. Orphans were particularly vulnerable. Without family support, they relied on parish care or private charity, both of which varied widely. Some were placed with households that exploited their labour, while others were neglected entirely.

Old age was another big fear. Without pensions or savings, elderly people who could no longer work often slipped into poverty unless they had family willing and able to support them. Widowhood was especially dangerous for women, who faced limited employment options and legal restrictions. Many elderly poor depended on begging, parish relief, or informal help from neighbours to survive.

Religion and government played crucial roles in shaping responses to poverty. In the early Tudor period, monasteries provided food, shelter, and alms to the poor. Their dissolution under Henry VIII removed a major source of relief almost overnight, leaving thousands without support. The sudden disappearance of this safety net increased visible poverty and alarmed authorities. In response, the Tudor state gradually developed systems of poor relief, culminating in parish-based responsibility for the poor. However, this system was uneven, underfunded, and often harsh.

The poor were increasingly divided into categories. Those considered deserving, such as the elderly, disabled, or very young, might receive limited help. The able-bodied poor, however, were viewed with suspicion. Begging without permission could lead to whipping, branding, or expulsion from towns. Poverty became framed as a moral failing rather than a social condition. This shift reflected growing fears about order, idleness, and rebellion in a rapidly changing society.

Vagrants caused particular anxiety. Authorities feared that wandering poor threatened stability and social control. Laws attempted to restrict movement, forcing people back to their parish of birth even when no work or support awaited them there. Being poor and mobile became a crime. Punishments were public and humiliating, reinforcing social divisions and deepening the stigma attached to poverty.

Despite these hardships, poverty did not erase community or resilience. Neighbours shared food when they could, parishes collected alms, and informal networks of support helped many survive. Reputation mattered deeply. Those seen as honest, hardworking, or unfortunate were more likely to receive help than those labelled troublesome or idle. Survival depended not only on money, but on relationships, adaptability, and local goodwill.

Poverty in Tudor England was harsh, visible, and deeply insecure. It shaped daily choices, limited opportunity, and constantly reminded people how fragile life could be. For the poor, survival meant balancing labour, charity, discipline, and punishment in a society that feared disorder almost as much as it pitied suffering.

Do you think Tudor attitudes toward poverty were driven more by fear of social instability or by genuine concern for those in need, and how does that compare to how poverty is understood today?

Image info:

Artist: Pieter Brueghel the Elder 

Title: The Seven Virtues 3 Charity

Date:1559

Collection: Private collection

Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen

Louise of Savoy: A Model of Female Power at the French Court.

Louise of Savoy: A Model of Female Power at the French Court

As you know, I am learning more about some of the people, especially women, who may well have influenced Anne Boleyn. We have touched on her time in Austria and are now learning more about the influences the French court had on her. We know that she loved French fashions and brought them back to England with her, but she would also have been shaped by the people at court. Whether she met them or simply observed them from a distance, their presence would have made a lasting mark. So here is another powerful woman, who I believe may well have influenced Anne.

Louise of Savoy was born on the 11th of September 1476 at Pont-d’Ain, the daughter of Philip II, Duke of Savoy, and Margaret of Bourbon. After her mother’s early death, she was raised by Anne de Beaujeu, the capable sister of King Charles VIII, and was introduced to the refined and politically charged French court. There she met Margaret of Austria, with whom she would later negotiate peace many years on.

At just eleven years old, Louise was married to Charles of Orléans, Count of Angoulême, though she did not live with him until she was fifteen. Their marriage, though not without its complications, was bound by a shared love of books and learning. They had two children who would rise to great prominence, Marguerite, later Queen of Navarre, and Francis, who became King Francis I of France. When Charles died in 1496, Louise was only nineteen, but she proved herself a woman of determination and intelligence, guiding her children’s futures.

She secured her son’s position at court and ensured both he and Marguerite were educated in the humanist ideals and artistic spirit of the Italian Renaissance. Francis’s marriage to Claude of France, daughter of King Louis XII, was a triumph of Louise’s political skill. When Louis died in 1515, Francis ascended the throne, and his mother, now Duchess of Angoulême and later of Anjou, became one of the most influential figures in France.

Louise twice acted as regent while her son was away at war in 1515 and again in 1525- 1526 when he was held captive in Spain. During these times she displayed a talent for diplomacy and governance that earned her widespread respect. She even initiated contact with the Ottoman Empire, seeking the support of Suleiman the Magnificent, and successfully helped negotiate the Treaty of Cambrai in 1529, known as the “Ladies’ Peace”, with her former acquaintance Margaret of Austria. This agreement brought a temporary end to the wars between France and the Holy Roman Empire.

Louise of Savoy died on the 22nd of September 1531 at Grez-sur-Loing, likely of plague, and was buried at Saint-Denis in Paris. Through her daughter Marguerite and granddaughter Jeanne d’Albret, she became the ancestress of the Bourbon kings of France. 

A woman of learning, resilience, and political insight, Louise’s influence stretched far, shaping not only her son’s reign but also the world of refinement, intellect, and ambition that Anne Boleyn would encounter in France. Anne would have seen and heard about these powerful and intelligent women and learned how grace, wit, and diplomacy could shape influence at court, something her family would later use to their advantage, with Anne becoming a tool for their ambitions.

Of equal importance was the model Louise provided for female authority exercised without a crown in her own right. She ruled not through spectacle or overt dominance, but through proximity, intellect, and careful cultivation of loyalty. Her household became a training ground for women who learned how influence could be wielded discreetly: through conversation, patronage, education, and emotional intelligence. This was a court culture in which women were not merely decorative, but observant, articulate, and politically aware. For a young woman like Anne Boleyn, watching from within or just beyond this circle, it demonstrated that power did not always require a throne—only access, confidence, and an ability to read the shifting currents of favour.

Louise also embodied the delicate balance between ambition and restraint. Fiercely protective of her children’s interests, she nevertheless understood the dangers of overreach. Her successes came from patience and timing rather than impulsive action, a lesson Anne may have absorbed deeply. The French court prized elegance, wit, and intellectual sharpness, but it was Louise who showed how these qualities could be transformed into real political capital. In this environment, Anne learned not only how to dress and speak, but how to be seen: how to attract attention without appearing threatening, how to influence without issuing commands, and how a woman’s mind could become her most powerful asset. These lessons, shaped by women like Louise of Savoy, would echo through Anne’s later life in England-sometimes to her advantage, and sometimes with tragic consequences.

Image info:

Artist: Jean Clouet

Portrait of Louise of Savoy

Date: 16th century

Collection: Fondation Bemberg

The Woman Behind the Courts: Marguerite de Navarre’s

Anne Boleyn’s French Inspiration: The Remarkable Marguerite de Navarre

I have been finding out more about the people who shaped, influenced and knew Anne Boleyn prior to her more well-known time at the Tudor court. I have written a little about her time in Austria, and have now been learning more about her influence from the French court. We know she loved the fashions of the French court and that she brought them back to England with her. We know she served Queen Claude, but other women of the court would have influenced Anne in all sorts of ways. One such woman is Marguerite de Navarre, a remarkable princess whose intellect, compassion, and faith made her one of the most important figures of the French Renaissance.

Marguerite was born on the 11th of April 1492 in Angoulême, the daughter of Louise of Savoy and Charles, Count of Angoulême. She and her brother Francis, the future King Francis I of France, were raised in an environment that valued art, learning and culture. Her education was exceptional for a woman of her time, including the study of Latin and the classics.

At seventeen she married Charles, Duke of Alençon, in a match arranged for political convenience, as was common place. Though her husband was loyal and well-meaning, the union was sadly not a happy one. It was after Francis became king in 1515 that Marguerite truly came into her own. Her salons became famous across Europe for their lively discussion of humanist ideas, theology, and the arts. Salons were especially popular in France, where educated nobles and thinkers gathered to share ideas. Other European courts sometimes had similar meetings, but France was the centre of salon culture. Writers, scholars, and reformers gathered around her, and she became known as the “Maecenas” of her brother’s kingdom for her generous patronage.

After Charles’s death, she married Henry II of Navarre in 1527. Their daughter Jeanne later became Queen of Navarre and the mother of Henry IV of France, the first Bourbon king. Marguerite’s marriage placed her in a position of influence both at the French and Navarrese courts, and she used it to promote learning, faith, and tolerance. During the crisis that followed Francis I’s capture at the Battle of Pavia, she rode across to negotiate his release during winter, thus proving her courage and political skill.

As a writer, Marguerite was ahead of her time. Her works include The Mirror of the Sinful Soul, a deeply personal religious poem that explored the relationship between the human soul and God. It was controversial and even condemned by theologians at the Sorbonne, who accused her of heresy. The Sorbonne was a famous university in Paris, known for its powerful theologians and long influence on learning and religion in France. But her brother defended her fiercely. 

Her most famous literary achievement, The Heptaméron, is a collection of stories that combine wit, insight and moral reflection, and is often compared to Boccaccio’s Decameron. Boccaccio’s Decameron is a famous Italian book of one hundred stories told by people escaping the plague in 14th-century Florence.

Marguerite’s influence extended beyond France. Her writings and reformist views are believed to have reached England, and some historians think that Anne Boleyn may have known her personally or served briefly in her household. Anne’s later interest in religious reform and her possession of Marguerite’s Mirror of the Sinful Soul suggest a strong intellectual connection. Years later, Anne’s daughter, the young Princess Elizabeth, translated the poem into English for her stepmother, Queen Katherine Parr, a sign of how Marguerite’s ideas continued to inspire across generations and nations.

As a patron, she protected figures such as François Rabelais, Clément Marot and Pierre de Ronsard, using her influence to shield reform minded thinkers from persecution. Though she remained within the Catholic Church, she sought peaceful reform rather than division, and tried to persuade her brother to show tolerance towards those with different beliefs. Her kindness and generosity became legendary. She walked among her people without guards, listening to their troubles and calling herself “the Prime Minister of the Poor.”

Marguerite de Navarre died on the 21st of December 1549, but her spirit lived on through her daughter, her grandson Henry IV, and the writers and thinkers she inspired. Contemporaries praised her wisdom, humility, and strength, Erasmus, the Dutch scholar who encouraged education and church reform admired her piety. Later historians saw her as the embodiment of the Renaissance’s union of learning and faith. For Anne Boleyn and others who passed through the French court, Marguerite’s example of intellect, courage, and compassion must have left a lasting mark.

Marguerite’s legacy also lies in the atmosphere she created at court-a space where women could participate meaningfully in intellectual life. She encouraged them to read, debate, and write, subtly widening the boundaries of what was considered acceptable for noblewomen of her age. In doing so, she helped nurture a generation of young female attendants who witnessed firsthand how learning and leadership could coexist. For someone like Anne Boleyn, whose formative years were shaped by the courts of Europe, the example of a woman whose influence rested not on beauty or intrigue but on intellect and moral authority would have been especially striking.

Her political instincts were equally sophisticated. Marguerite used correspondence as a diplomatic tool, maintaining networks that stretched from Rome to the German states. Through letters, she cultivated allies, soothed tensions, and gathered information that allowed her to advise both her brother and her husband with unusual insight. This quieter form of statecraft-conducted through persuasion rather than decree-reflected her belief that dialogue could achieve what force often could not. It is a testament to her skill that even opponents acknowledged the tact and steadiness with which she navigated the turbulent religious and political currents of early sixteenth-century Europe.

How much influence do you think Marguerite’s ideas had on the young Anne Boleyn and the reformist climate that followed?

Image info:

Artist: Jean Clouet

Portrait of Marguerite d'Angouleme, duchess d'Angoulême, Queen of Navarre

Date: Valois-Angoulême 

Date c.1527

Collection:

Walker Art Gallery

Elizabeth Cheney: The Hidden Matriarch of the Tudor Queens

The Woman Behind Three Queens: The Story of Elizabeth Cheney.

Let me introduce to you the great-grandmother of Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard and Jane Seymour. We all know Anne, Catherine and Jane, three of Henry VIII’s famous queens, but their family roots are often overlooked. Without women like Elizabeth Cheney, history may have taken a very different turn.

Elizabeth Cheney, sometimes known as Lady Say, was born in April 1422 at Fen Ditton in Cambridgeshire. She was the eldest child of Lawrence Cheney, High Sheriff of Cambridgeshire, and Elizabeth Cokayne. Through her parents she descended from notable families: her grandfather Sir John Cokayne had been Chief Baron of the Exchequer, while her grandmother Ida de Grey linked her to the powerful Grey family. Elizabeth grew up among the English gentry, and her life would connect her directly to some of the greatest dynasties of Tudor England.

Her first marriage was to Sir Frederick Tilney of Ashwellthorpe in Norfolk and Boston in Lincolnshire. They lived at Ashwellthorpe Manor and had one daughter, Elizabeth Tilney. When Sir Frederick died in 1445, their daughter became heiress to his estates. That daughter would later marry into the Howard family and become grandmother to both Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, two of Henry VIII’s later queens.

Widowed young, Elizabeth Cheney remarried before the end of 1446. Her second husband was Sir John Say of Broxbourne in Hertfordshire, who rose to become Speaker of the House of Commons and a servant in the household of Henry VI. Together they built a large family of three sons and four daughters, forging alliances with some of the most important houses of the time. Their daughter Anne Say married Sir Henry Wentworth, and from that line came Margery Wentworth, mother of Jane Seymour, Henry VIII’s third queen and the mother of Edward VI.

Thus, from Elizabeth Cheney’s two marriages sprang bloodlines that produced three of Henry VIII’s wives. Through Jane Seymour, she became great-great-grandmother to King Edward VI, and through Anne Boleyn she was an ancester of Queen Elizabeth I.

Elizabeth lived until the age of fifty-one, dying on the 25th of September 1473. She was laid to rest at Broxbourne. Her husband survived her and later remarried, but her legacy remained in ways she could never have imagined. Through her descendants, Elizabeth Cheney’s bloodline shaped the course of English monarchy and forever tied her name to the turbulent story of the Tudors.

Elizabeth Cheney’s own lifetime unfolded during one of the most turbulent chapters in English history. She lived through the later years of the Hundred Years’ War and witnessed the collapse of Henry VI’s authority as the Wars of the Roses ignited around her. Though she did not stand on the battlefield, the shifting fortunes of Lancaster and York shaped the world in which she raised her children. Families like the Cheneys, Tilneys, and Says depended on careful alliances, loyalty, and strategic marriages to navigate the uncertainty of civil conflict. Elizabeth, through both of her unions, positioned her family securely within this landscape, ensuring her children entered adulthood with the advantages of land, lineage, and influential connections.

Her memory endured not only through the royal bloodlines that descended from her but also through the properties, monuments, and local ties she helped cement. At Broxbourne, where she spent her later years, the Say family became central figures in community life, supporting the parish church and leaving their mark on its memorials. Centuries later, antiquarians would uncover her image through brasses and records, tracing the unexpected thread that linked this fifteenth-century gentlewoman to the courts of Henry VIII and Elizabeth I. Elizabeth Cheney never lived to see the Tudor dynasty rise, but her influence-quiet, domestic, and rooted in family-played a decisive role in shaping the very world the Tudors inherited.

What do you think-does Elizabeth Cheney deserve more recognition as one of the hidden architects behind the Tudor dynasty?

Image info:

Oil painting based on a brass rubbing of Elizabeth Cheney 

Date: 31st of May 2022

Source: National Trust Collection

Artist:Wentworth Huyshe

Princess Antoinette: A Forgotten Coburg Princess

Princess Antoinette of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld: A Hidden Figure of the Georgian and Imperial Russian Courts

Princess Antoinette Ernestine Amalie of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld was born in Coburg on the 28th of August 1779, the second daughter of Duke Francis of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld and Countess Augusta Reuss of Ebersdorf. She grew up in a family that later produced King Leopold I of Belgium and Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, making her the aunt of both Queen Victoria and her husband Albert.

On the 17th of November 1798 Antoinette married Duke Alexander of Württemberg. The couple moved to Russia, where Alexander, as an uncle to Emperors Alexander I and Nicholas I, pursued a military and diplomatic career. Antoinette herself was considered influential in society and was awarded the Grand Cross of the Imperial Russian Order of Saint Catherine.

Her marriage was not always harmonious. Letters from her brother George in 1802 suggest the couple lived apart for a time, and rumours circulated of an illegitimate child. Despite these difficulties, Antoinette fulfilled her dynastic role and became the ancestress of the modern Catholic branch of the Württemberg family through her son Alexander.

Antoinette died in St. Petersburg on the 14th of March 1824. She was buried in the ducal crypt of Schloss Friedenstein in Gotha, alongside her husband and children Paul and Frederick.

The couple had several children. Their eldest, Duchess Marie (1799–1860), married her uncle, Duke Ernest I of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, becoming stepmother to Prince Albert. Their son Paul died in infancy, while another son, Duke Alexander (1804–1881), married Princess Marie of Orléans and founded the Catholic Württemberg line. Duke Ernest (1807–1868) married Natalie Eschborn and had one daughter, Alexandra, who continued the line through the von Keudell family. Their youngest child, Duke Frederick Wilhelm Ferdinand (1810–1815), died young.

Although lesser known and seemly far removed she linked German nobility with European royalty, shaping dynastic alliances that strengthened Coburg influence across Europe.

Even now, it is easy to forget how many women’s stories were quietly pushed aside, overshadowed by the louder voices that dominated the historical record. Yet when we pause and look closely, we find women whose lives shaped their families, their communities, and even the fate of nations. They faced the same storms as the men around them-war, loss, upheaval, political change-but carried those burdens with resilience that often went unrecognised. By bringing their experiences back into the light, we reclaim not only their voices but also a richer, fuller understanding of the past.

These stories remind us that history is never just kings, battles, and treaties-it is also the courage of individuals who refused to be erased. Every woman who stepped forward, defied expectation, or simply endured in difficult times left behind a quiet legacy of strength. Sharing their lives today ensures that their influence, once overlooked, becomes part of the shared narrative we pass on.

What overlooked woman from history do you think deserves far more recognition than she’s ever been given?

Image info:

Artist:

After Johann Heinrich Schröder (1757–1812) 

 Herbert Smith 

Princess Antoinette of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, later Duchess of Württemberg, a copy after the pastel portrait by J.H. Schroeder of c.1795.

Date:1844

Edward I: Longshanks, Lawmaker, and the Hammer of the Scots.

Edward I: Longshanks, Lawmaker, and the Hammer of the Scots.

Edward I of England was born on the 17th of June 1239 at Westminster, the son of King Henry III and Eleanor of Provence. He was named after Edward the Confessor, the old Anglo-Saxon king who had been made a saint, and from birth he carried high expectations. As a child his health was fragile, but he grew into a tall, powerful man, so tall that people called him Longshanks, meaning “long legs.” He was married in 1254 to Eleanor of Castile, daughter of King Ferdinand III of Castile, in a match that was meant to strengthen England’s position in France. Their marriage was infact affectionate and they had many children together, though sadly most did not survive infancy.

Edward grew up in a troubled time. His father Henry III often clashed with his barons, who wanted more say in government. In 1258 they forced through reforms known as the Provisions of Oxford, which tried to limit the king’s power. Edward at first supported the reformers but soon returned to his father’s side. In 1264 the dispute ignited into civil war. The leader of the barons, Simon de Montfort, defeated Henry and captured both him and Edward at the Battle of Lewes. Edward later escaped and gathered forces, winning a great victory at the Battle of Evesham in 1265, where de Montfort was killed. 

With England more stable, Edward set his eyes on the wider world. In 1270 he joined the Ninth Crusade to the Holy Land, though the expedition was small and achieved very little. He was even the target of an assassination attempt, though he did survive. While he was abroad he heard of his father’s death in 1272. He did not hurry home though, but took his time securing his lands before he returned to England in 1274. On August the 19th 1274, he was crowned king at Westminster Abbey.

Edward, as king wanted to strengthen the monarchy, improve the law, and make government more orderly. He worked closely with his chancellor, Robert Burnell, and ordered a great survey of the kingdom known as the Hundred Rolls, which checked on abuses of power and confirmed the king’s rights. Through legal enquiries called quo warranto, he forced lords to prove their claims to land and privileges. He also issued many laws, including the Statute of Westminster in 1275, which reformed criminal and property law. His efforts to tidy up the law earned him later the title of the “English Justinian,” a reference to the great Roman lawgiver. He also strengthened Parliament, calling not just barons and bishops but also knights and burgesses from the shires and towns. This gave more people a voice in taxation and helped Parliament grow into what we are more familiar with today.

Edward was strict in financial matters. Wars cost money, and he demanded alot from his people in taxes and levies. His treatment of the Jews was especially awful. In 1275 he banned them from moneylending, cutting off their main means of earning a living, causing poverty. Then in 1290 he expelled all Jews from England, a policy that would not be reversed for hundreds of years. Today it is remembered as one of the darkest acts of his reign.

Edward’s greatest energies were spent on conquest. In Wales he faced Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, who had taken advantage of Henry III’s weakness to build an independent Welsh principality. In 1277 Edward marched into Wales and forced Llywelyn to submit, but war broke out again in 1282. This time Llywelyn was killed in battle, his brother Dafydd was executed, and Edward completed the conquest. He built great stone castles at Conwy, Harlech, and Caernarfon, and settled them with English colonists, which placed Wales firmly under royal control. In 1301 he gave his son the title Prince of Wales, starting a tradition that continues today.

In Scotland events took a different turn. After King Alexander III died in 1286, and his heir, the Maid of Norway, died in 1290, the Scottish throne was left vacant. Edward was asked to decide among the claimants, and he chose John Balliol, but only on condition that Balliol recognise him as overlord. When Balliol resisted, Edward invaded Scotland in 1296, removed him from the throne, and carried off the Stone of Scone. The Scots soon rose in rebellion under William Wallace, and in 1297 they defeated an English army at Stirling Bridge. Edward struck back and won a crushing victory at Falkirk in 1298, but Scottish resistance did not end. Fighting continued for the rest of his life, and although Edward earned the title “Hammer of the Scots,” he never managed to conquer them fully.

Edward also faced conflict with France. As Duke of Aquitaine he was technically a vassal of the French king, and disputes over Gascony led to war in 1294. This added to the strain of his Scottish campaigns. In 1299 peace was finally made, and Edward, now a widower after Eleanor of Castile’s death in 1290, married Margaret of France, the half-sister of Philip IV. This alliance eased tensions and brought him more children.

Edward’s personality made a strong impression. He was fierce, commanding, and often frightening to those who crossed him. He had a quick temper and could be merciless, but he was also deeply devoted to his first wife Eleanor. When she died he was grief-stricken and set up the famous Eleanor Crosses along the route of her funeral procession from Lincoln to Westminster. He was religious, attending services faithfully, but he had no hesitation in taxing the Church heavily to fund his wars. He could be generous to family and loyal servants, but to enemies he was relentless.

The constant wars of his reign rquired money, and by the 1290s discontent with taxation grew. In 1297 opposition broke out among nobles and clergy, who resented his constant demands. For a time there was a crisis, but a compromise was eventually reached, and Edward continued his campaigns. Even so, resentment at his financial policies continued. By 1307, though over sixty years old, Edward was preparing for yet another invasion of Scotland. While marching north though, he fell ill with dysentery and died on the 7th of July at Burgh by Sands, near the border. His body was taken to Westminster Abbey, where he was buried with the simple Latin inscription calling him the Hammer of the Scots.

Edward I’s legacy is a complicated one. He was a formidable ruler-decisive, disciplined, and relentless in his pursuit of order-but his achievements came at a heavy human cost. His reforms helped shape English law and governance for generations, but his brutality in Wales, his interference in Scotland, and his persecution of the Jewish population cast long shadows over his reputation. Later centuries remembered him both as a nation-builder and a conqueror, a king whose vision of a strong, unified realm was forged through conflict and force.

Despite his fearsome image, Edward’s reign left lasting marks on culture as well as politics. The great castles of Wales still stand as some of medieval Europe’s most impressive fortifications, symbols of both royal power and architectural brilliance. His devotion to Eleanor of Castile continues to be felt through the surviving Eleanor Crosses, rare medieval monuments that reflect an unexpectedly tender side of a king better known for his iron will.

What do you think?

Was Edward I a strong, effective nation-builder, or did the harshness of his conquests and policies ultimately overshadow the achievements of his reign?

Image info:

Erected at Westminster Abbey sometime during reign of Edward I, thought to be an image of the King.

Artist:Unknown 

Date:1272-1307

Henry VIII’s Trusted Companion: The Remarkable Rise of Sir Henry Guildford.

Hello you wonderful people, today we are going to take a look at Sir Henry Guildford.

Most people can name the towering figures of Henry VIII’s court-Wolsey, Cromwell, Anne Boleyn-but few remember Sir Henry Guildford, a man who stood at the very heart of the Tudor world. Born in 1489 and raised alongside the future king, Guildford grew from a trusted boyhood companion into one of Henry VIII’s most valued courtiers. He planned pageants, led armies, carried royal standards, managed the king’s household, and moved with ease through the dazzling, dangerous circles of power. Though history has pushed him into the margins, his career reveals just how much influence a loyal and capable courtier could wield in the early years of the Tudor dynasty. Lets delve right in...

Sir Henry Guildford was born in 1489, the son of Sir Richard Guildford and Joan Vaux, sister of Nicholas, Lord Vaux of Harrowden. As a boy he was close to Henry, Duke of York, serving as his cupbearer. A cup-bearer was a trusted court official responsible for serving drinks. Because poisoning was a real danger, the role carried great responsibility: the cup-bearer often tasted the drink first to ensure it was safe. Over time, the position became not just practical but also highly prestigious, since it meant being constantly near the ruler and enjoying their confidence. When the duke became King Henry VIII in 1509, Guildford was well placed at court. On the 18th of January 1510 he helped stage a revel in which courtiers, dressed as Robin Hood and his men with a Maid Marian, surprised Queen Katherine with dancing and mumming. On Twelfth Night 1511 he devised a moving “mountain” pageant that opened to release morris-dancers. That February he signed the articles of challenge at the Westminster tournament celebrating the birth of a prince. He was very much central to court life, but is very less known about.

In 1511 he sailed with Lord Darcy’s force to Spain. He and Sir Wistan Browne remained after others returned and were knighted by Ferdinand at Burgos on the 15th of September 1511; they received knighthood again from Henry VIII on the 30th of March 1512. By March 1510 he had been granted the wardship of Anne Langford, daughter and heir of Sir John Langforde, giving him legal guardianship and control over her lands (and marriage) while she was a minor. He served as squire of the body, a post that was personal attendant to the king. He was also was listed as a “spear” in the king’s service, spear in the king’s service meant you were sworn to provide military duty directly for the crown, usually with horse, armour, and weapons.

 He married Margaret Bryan in May 1512, receiving from the king the manors of Hampton-in-Arden and Byker in Swineshead. That December he became bailiff of Sutton Coldfield and keeper of Sutton Park, and later in the month constable and doorward of Leeds Castle with charge of the parks of Leeds and Langley.

In 1513 he crossed to France as standard-bearer, commanding in the “middle ward,” and as joint captain with Charles Brandon of the Sovereign. After Tournai’s capture he was created a knight-banneret and, as master of the revels, performed an interlude before the king. On the 6th of November 1515 he was appointed Master of the Horse with a salary and annuity; that year he also wrote to entice the minstrel Hans Nagel from the Low Countries to spy on Richard de la Pole.

In 1519 Erasmus praised Henry’s court in letters addressed to Guildford. He attended the Field of Cloth of Gold in 1520 and the meeting with Emperor Charles V at Gravelines. On the 12th of February 1521 he received custody of Leeds manor and Langley lordship for forty years; in May he sat among the justices who took indictments against the Duke of Buckingham, and on the 24th of April the manor of Hadlow was granted to him. He went to the Calais conferences with Wolsey in autumn 1521 and met the emperor again at Dover in 1522. Having surrendered the horse-mastership, he was appointed Comptroller of the Household in 1522, became Chamberlain of the Exchequer in 1525, and was invested a Knight of the Garter in 1526.

Around 1527 he helped Sir Thomas Wyatt build a banqueting house at Greenwich, travelled with Wolsey to France, and drew a French pension under the Treaty of the More. In 1528 he policed unrest in Kent over forced loans, sat on commissions, and cooperated with Cromwell in local ecclesiastical business. The sweating sickness that year disrupted sessions; he served as William Compton’s executor and organised Cardinal Campeggio’s reception. In 1529 he was knight of the shire for Kent, testified on the consummation of Prince Arthur’s marriage, signed articles against Wolsey in December, witnessed Thomas Boleyn’s elevation, and in 1530 joined the peers’ letter urging the pope to accede to the king’s wishes.

On the 23rd of April 1531 he attended a Garter chapter at Greenwich. He privately opposed Henry’s divorce policy and told Eustace Chapuys so; Anne Boleyn threatened his office, and though Henry twice pressed him to continue, he briefly withdrew from court yet remained on the council. He died in May 1532. He was a hugely influential man that is not often remembered amongst the huge names. 

Guildford married twice and left no children. His first wife was Margaret Bryan. His second was Mary Wotton of Boughton Malherbe, sister of Margaret, Marchioness of Dorset; she survived him, secured a royal release on the 25th of March 1533, and later married Sir Gawain Carew.

Sir Henry Guildford’s life shows how a loyal, capable courtier could rise to remarkable influence in Henry VIII’s early reign, shaping royal ceremony, diplomacy, and household power, even though he is little remembered today.

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What do you make of the man himself and

how might our understanding of Henry VIII’s reign change if we paid more attention to figures like Guildford-men who worked behind the scenes to shape the court’s politics, spectacle, and daily governance?

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Image info:

Artist:

Hans Holbein the Younger 

Sir Henry Guildford.Collection: Royal Collection 

Current location:Windsor Castle