Henry VII, Another Royal Dude Who Didn't Get A Play Written About Him

Born 1457, Reigned 1485-1509

After the grand success of Richard III -- the evil tyrant vanquished by the young hero Richmond -- Shakespeare left the Wars of the Roses cycle. Richard III made an excellent exit, and we all know what the theatre thinks of a good exit. Henry VII, the first of the Tudors, would not have made a good encore -- not if Shakespeare told anything like the truth.

Henry Tudor was the grandson of Katherine of Valois (Henry V's widow) who married her Master of Horse, Owen Tudor. Their son Edmund, Duke of Richmond, was Henry's father. Henry's mother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, was descended from John of Gaunt's third and highly dubious marriage to Katherine Swinford, their prior illegitimate issue being "legitimized" later after the marriage.

On these oh-so-shakey grounds did Henry Tudor claim the crown. Thus it became crucial to discredit the previous reign by whatever means available. Richard III became a hunchback monster who had been retained in his mother's womb a full two years and born with long hair and a full set of teeth.

Every death that could be attributed to Richard was, including those of the missing princes, a point that the Tudors capitalized on repeatedly but only after 1486 and without any attempt to apprehend the reputed hired assassin, Sir James Tyrrell. In fact, he received not one, but two general pardons, one on June 16, 1486, and another a month later. He continued to live the good life in France with funds provided by someone, until 20 years later when he was arrested for high treason -- and promptly executed. His "confession" of the crimes he committed at Richard's supposed command was only revealed after the execution, and no transcript was ever produced. It is much easier, of course, to put words into the mouth of a dead man.

Perhaps the most important point about the murder of the two little princes -- that heinous crime for which Richard's name is forever vilefied -- is that if he didn't kill them he certainly should have. As cruel as that may sound, in a realm that had already suffered through two child kings, both deposed in bloody civil wars, Edward V was a political liability. If allowed to grow to manhood he or his brother would surely have attempted to gain the crown through whatever means necessary. It's part of Kingship 101: There is no such thing as an "ex-king;" there are only late kings. Leaving excess claimants to the throne is an invitation to disaster.

Henry Tudor certainly knew this. He married Edward IV's daughter, Elizabeth, and then sent to the block most of her remaining Yorkist relatives. Clarence's son, the Earl of Warwick, was executed for trying to escape from prison. Richard's bastard son John was executed for supposedly receiving an "invitation to go to Ireland." Henry VIII took out the last ones, including Clarence's daughter, Margaret, the Duchess of Salisbury, when she was in her 70s. The old girl refused to put her head on the block, and was hacked to death by the headsman as he chased her around the scaffold.
Now wouldn't that have made a fine scene on stage?

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
that it do singe yourself.
Henry VIII Act 1: Scene 1

Born 1491; Reigned 1509-1547

His daughter was Queen Elizabeth I and one of Shakespeare's swankiest fans, but it was not for her that the play was written. She died in 1603 and the play was produced about a decade later.

It was Shakespeare's last play and the last for the Globe Theatre as well. During the opening performance a "special effect" -- the firing of cannon -- set the thatch alight and the great theatre burned to the ground. Today the building has been recreated.