All language subtitles for BBC.The.Real.White.Queen.and.Her.Rivals.1of2.720p.HDTV.x264.AAC.MVGroup

July 6th, 1483, and
Westminster Abbey was packed tight

for the coronation
of one of England's

most controversial kings,
Richard III.

His name and the battles
of his violent era

are familiar parts of our history.

Towton, Bosworth,
the Wars of the Roses

when the rivalry between two great
dynasties tore the nobility apart.

But my story is not about kings
and their great power struggles,

it's about the remarkable women

whose stories have been hidden

by these tales of conflicts
and alliances.

Almost by accident,
I have spent my working life

researching and writing
the secret histories

of virtually unknown women

who appear as the wife or mother
of a more famous man.

Three of them in particular
have fascinated me for years.

They are at the heart of our story.

And on the day that Richard
was crowned,

they could all be found
here in Westminster.

The first is Anne Neville.

At this extravagant ceremony,

she was transformed into
the leading woman in the realm.

As Richard's wife,
she was the new queen.

She brought with her the love
and loyalty of the north of England.

She was so important that Richard
honoured her

with a joint coronation.

As the daughter of the most powerful
noble in the realm,

Anne was destined for greatness
from birth.

And by her side
was another extraordinary woman.

Dressed in scarlet,
carrying the queen's train

was Margaret Beaufort,

the second most important woman
in the country.

She had deliberately placed herself
at the heart of this new court.

Margaret's ambitions were bound up
with her only son, Henry Tudor.

Never far from the centre of power,

the Margaret I know
was a skilled politician

who believed herself guided by God.

And out of sight at this
great occasion was the third woman.

Hidden in the sanctuary of the abbey
in fear of her life

was Elizabeth Woodville

the former Queen of England
and Richard's declared enemy.

She had risen the furthest
and fallen the hardest.

Elizabeth was the commoner queen.

An English beauty
who enchanted a king.

This is my chronicle
of these three women.

The former queen, the new queen

and the woman who planned to be
greater than them both.

We call this conflict
the Wars of the Roses,

but they called it
the Cousins' War.

A war between kin, not countries.

And that is why the women
really matter.

They had to survive a violent family
feud and utterly ruthless men.

But women were actors
on their own account,

capable of fierce loyalty
and shocking treachery.

Living in a world where women's
roles were strictly limited

and their behaviour judged
as good or bad

by a misogynistic church,

they had to exercise their power
in hiding.

In a time of bloodshed,
these three tenacious women

would become canny allies

and grow into
calculating adversaries.

Here in windswept Wales,

30 years before the Cousins' War
met its bloody climax,

a fragile 12-year-old girl
was facing a new life,

a new home and a new husband.

A man twice her age
who she barely knew.

Margaret Beaufort was an heiress
to valuable lands,

but that gave her no power
over her own life.

Margaret would have known that as
a young woman from a noble family,

she would never have had
any choice over her husband.

She probably would not even
have been consulted.

The medieval marriage
was to forge family alliances.

It was nothing to do with love.

With no control
over her own destiny,

Margaret turned to God
at a young age.

Later in her life, this devotion
would earn her respect and status.

But as a child, Margaret's fate
had been decided

by no less than the King of England,
Henry VI.

He had given her in marriage
to his half-brother, Edmund Tudor.

The aristocracy
in the late Middle Ages

were a social and political elite.

And they were always seeking
to increase their landholdings

and increase their status.

So they did this by securing
desirable marriages

to other aristocratic families.

Margaret Beaufort
was a very desirable commodity

in the late medieval
marriage market.

Margaret and all her possessions
were transferred to Edmund Tudor

and she was brought here,
to his estates in Wales.

At 12 years old,
Margaret was old enough to marry,

but she was small for her age
and still a little girl.

Even her contemporaries would have
thought that she was too young

and too physically undeveloped
for the marriage to be consummated.

Her 24-year-old husband
had different ideas.

He wanted a son to inherit
his property and title

and would not delay.

He took young Margaret
into the marital bed

and just months after marrying
Edmund Tudor, Margaret was pregnant.

Even by the standard of the time,
this was a selfish, brutal act.

But Edmund was so determined
to secure Margaret's estates

and the all-important heir,

that he risked both her life
and that of the unborn child.

Margaret might have been forgiven
for cursing the man

who had ordered her into this
frightening life, but she didn't.

She remained fiercely loyal
to Henry VI,

the King, who was now
her brother-in-law.

Henry VI had reigned
for over 30 years.

He sat on the throne
alongside his wife,

the formidable Margaret of Anjou,

not only as ruler of England,

but as head of a great dynasty,
the House of Lancaster.

But Henry's reign was troubled.

His nobles thought him feeble
and unstable.

His weakness encouraged disagreement

at the highest levels
of English society.

And strengthened the ambitions
of another English noble line,

the House of York.

Lancaster against York would
scar England for decades to follow.

And overshadow the lives
of our three young women,

Margaret Beaufort, Anne Neville
and Elizabeth Woodville.

Safely distant
from the troubled royal court,

leading the quiet life
of an English country lady,

was the beautiful wife
of a mid-ranking English knight.

Elizabeth Woodville was a mother
of two boys

living in rural Leicestershire,

but her family was extraordinarily
well connected.

Elizabeth's parents were leading
lights at the court of Henry VI

because her mother, Jacquetta,

was born into
the Royal House of Luxembourg,

an ancient European family
who could trace their lineage back

through recorded history into myth.

The family seat
was a fairytale castle

that dominated the roads and rivers

between France, Germany
and the Low Countries.

And as a child,
Elizabeth must have heard

the whole family story
from her mother, Jacquetta.

A story wrapped in magic
and mystery.

Jacquetta's ancestor,
Count Siegfried,

was said to have married
a water goddess, Melusina,

a being half-woman, half-fish,
rather like a mermaid.

She made the family castle
of Luxembourg

magically appear
on her wedding night.

And their marriage was a happy one,

until the count broke his vow

of giving her absolute privacy
once a month,

and she flew away with her
daughters and was never seen again.

This was an age when people believed
in the power of the supernatural.

Their connection
with the water witch

would have given the Woodville women
a strange and mysterious allure.

But more vital than
their European heritage

were their English allegiances.

Known as the Rivers Family,
they were Lancastrian loyalists,

steadfast followers of the king,
Henry VI.

So when the tension between
the houses of Lancaster and York

broke into open conflict,

they were quick to rally
to Henry's cause.

The men in Elizabeth's family
all readied themselves for war

against the Yorkist rebels.

The House of York
had a new young champion

and claimant to the throne,
Edward of York.

His family had long coveted
the kingdom,

and in 1461, he was ready
to fight for the prize.

The noble families of England

were divided behind the banners
of York and Lancaster.

But one family would matter more
than any other

in this great struggle.

The family of Anne Neville.

Her childhood was one of opulence
and privilege

beyond the dreams of anyone else
in the country.

She was the youngest daughter
of Richard Neville,

the wealthiest noble in England,

with a fortune that put him at the
centre of English power politics.

Anne was born here,
in Warwick Castle,

the main powerbase of
her spectacular father,

Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick.

He was, without question,
the supreme noble in England,

and starting to be thought of
as greater than the king himself.

Warwick controlled lands
from the south of England

all the way up to the border
with Scotland.

Mostly concentrated in the north
and the Midlands,

but there were some quite powerful
estates down in the south, too.

So, effectively, you could draw
a line from London to Berwick,

which would always go through
lands owned by him.

Warwick's standard,
the bear and ragged staff,

would have been known
to almost everyone in the country.

A symbol of his unrivalled power
and influence.

Effectively, the Neville family
were princes in their own kingdom.

They could raise armies, they could
fight their own private wars.

They effectively owned the lives
of the men

who lived and worked on their lands.

So they had enormous influence,
and especially in the north country,

which was outside of the diaspora
of royal power,

they were the rulers.

For young Anne,
it all meant a gilded life,

but there was a price to be paid
for luxury and security.

She may have been his daughter,
but for Warwick,

she was also a valuable
piece to be played

in the complex game
of aristocratic alliance.

Anne had no brothers. She and her
sister would inherit everything.

Even when they were tiny,
the entire nobility could see

their unequalled marriage potential

and eyed them up as valuable wives
for their sons.

Anne was one of the two most
desirable heiresses in England.

And making a good marriage
alliance for her

was one of the principal
political decisions for Warwick.

He had aspirations to be as close
as possible to the throne.

And in an age when all politics
was family politics,

dynastic politics, it was clear
that his two young daughters

were going to be very important
parts of that strategy.

But right now, the Earl of Warwick

was engaged in a different strategy,
how to topple a king.

His sympathies and ties
were with the House of York.

And he threw his considerable
powerbase behind Edward,

backing his challenge against
the Lancastrian King Henry VI.

War was now inescapable.

And taking sides,
as the violence escalated,

were our three young women.

Anne Neville, daughter
of the mighty Earl of Warwick

and Elizabeth Woodville,

the beautiful young wife
of a Lancastrian knight,

each had a life-changing stake
in the outcome of these troubles.

For Margaret Beaufort,
the pious child bride,

life had taken a menacing turn.

A long way from family and friends
and with war looming,

Margaret Beaufort
had endured terrible suffering.

The husband who had forced her
into pregnancy was dead.

A victim of the plague.

And she had another great burden.

Aged 13, she was now a mother.

In the cold gloom
of Pembroke Castle,

Margaret had faced
the most dangerous moment

of any medieval woman's life,
the ordeal of childbirth.

Childbirth was much more dangerous
in the 15th century than it is now.

We estimate that about one in ten
women died in childbirth.

There was nothing they could do
about very common complications

like eclampsia and haemorrhaging.

If you haemorrhaged, you died.

If the baby got stuck in the birth
canal or was a breech presentation,

there was almost nothing
they could do.

They could do a caesarean,
but only after the mother had died

because they understood
that it would be fatal.

So if you think about the number of
things we've got an answer to now,

and think about the fact that they
didn't have any answer to them then,

you can understand what
a dreadfully frightening experience

it would have been for women.

Margaret would have been
acutely aware of the fatal dangers

facing her as she went into labour.

And because of her size,
she was greatly at risk.

The birth was long and difficult.

Both she and the baby
were expected to die.

Margaret, small,
still a child herself,

was probably permanently
physically damaged.

She would never bear another child.

Against all the odds,

Margaret survived this agonising
childbirth and delivered a son.

Unusually, she didn't christen him
for his father,

but chose instead a royal name.

She called him Henry,

after the child's uncle, the king,
who Margaret revered as a saint.

Perhaps she felt as she emerged
from the ordeal of childbirth,

that this baby who had caused her
so much pain

was destined for greatness.

Why did this vulnerable young woman
have such a determined belief

that she and her child
could rise so far?

Her background was noble,
but tainted.

Just like the king,
she was descended from Edward III

through his third surviving son,

John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster.

But there was one major difference
between her and Henry VI.

The Beaufort line
was a bastard line.

Like many men of the time,

John of Gaunt fathered
illegitimate children.

Unusually, he later married
his mistress

and had his bastards legitimised
by an Act of Parliament.

But it was clearly agreed,

the Beaufort line could never
take the throne.

So the Beauforts
were of the Royal Family,

but also not of the Royal Family.

And from a Beaufort point of view,

I think that must have
really rankled.

They would have seen that
as a considerable injustice.

That we've been legitimated,
we're part of the Royal Family,

we're very, very close
to the Royal Family,

so why are we being excluded
from succession to the throne?

Bastards or not, Margaret knew
she was close to the throne.

But she saved her greatest
ambitions, however unlikely,

for the son that she insisted
would carry the royal name, Henry.

As the war between the cousins
started,

our women stood on different sides
of the conflict.

For the House of Lancaster,

Margaret Beaufort remained devoted
to Henry VI.

The family of Elizabeth Woodville

were also aligned with King Henry

as he stood against
the Yorkist Edward's forces.

But on the other side
of the conflict was Anne Neville.

Her father, the Earl of Warwick
was Edward of York's main ally.

All three women
had to watch anxiously

as the war that was going to
determine the rest of their lives

escalated from early skirmishes
to its pivotal moment.

Towton.

Edward quickly gathered
all his forces together

and they met on the battlefield
of Towton in South Yorkshire.

And Towton was the bloodiest
battle of the civil wars,

of the whole of
the Wars of the Roses.

The Lancastrians and Yorkists
probably put

between 20,000 and 30,000 men
in the field.

Significantly, most of the English
nobility was present at Towton.

That's what really singles out
Towton as a very special battle.

This was the battle that was going
to decide the Wars of the Roses.

The Earl of Warwick had attracted
the best soldiers and gunners

to the Yorkist banner,

greatly boosting
their chances of success.

Edward, who had been
Warwick's military pupil,

fought, as always,
in the middle of his men.

And he was a fantastic
symbolic figure.

Tall, very good looking.

And he fought with an axe,
with his standard behind him.

A really inspiring figure
to his troops.

There was a high death rate,

although no-one knows exactly
what the death rate was,

but the word went round
25,000 people died in the battle.

Almost every great northern family
lost a son.

It was said that all the fields
from Tadcaster to Towton,

a distance of more than two miles,

were filled with the bodies
of dead men.

It was a bloody,
but decisive victory for Edward.

Towton was the moment, the battle
that secured Edward on the throne.

It established the House of York.

The slaughter at Towton toppled the
House of Lancaster and King Henry.

He fled into exile
with his wife and son.

But England had not heard the last
of him or his cause.

Young Edward of York was
triumphantly crowned Edward VI.

And our three young women
experienced dramatic upheaval.

Anne Neville's status rose with that
of her powerful father, Warwick.

He had made Edward's victory
possible

and people now called him
the Kingmaker.

Anne's good fortune
was in sharp contrast

to the new life facing
Elizabeth Woodville.

Her side had lost
and her husband had died

fighting for the Lancastrian cause.

It was a terrible blow
for Elizabeth.

She had lost her husband and she was
now a widow with two little boys.

To make matters worse,
her mother-in-law

was refusing to pay her
the allowance

that she was owed
under her marriage contract.

With no source of income,
Elizabeth's future looked bleak.

THUNDERCLAP

Also facing anxious times was
the 17-year-old Margaret Beaufort.

The king she worshipped almost
as a saint had been deposed.

Many of her family
and allies were dead.

Even worse, the future for the son
she adored looked uncertain.

The new king would control
the destiny

of wealthy, young, fatherless heirs.

And Henry Tudor
was a valuable prize.

If a boy's father was dead,
then care and custody of him,

guardianship if you like, wardship,
could be given or sold,

because again, this was big business,
to another noble.

The noble would then be able
to administer the boy's lands

and also to dispose of him
in marriage,

which could be
an advantageous business.

In return, he was supposed to protect
the boy's interests

and teach him
everything he should know.

See that he was taught a certain
amount of book learning, perhaps,

everything to do with the estate,

but also, and most importantly,
the art of war.

Margaret Beaufort was powerless
to prevent her son Henry
from being moved

into the home of one of the York
King Edward's strongest supporters,

the experienced soldier,
William, Lord Herbert.

In Herbert's household,
Henry would have been given

a basic military training.

And we know that certainly from
the age of nine, if not earlier,

there was a regular exercise routine
where these children were drilled,

first of all with wooden
toy replica, um...spears,

swords, shields,
and then the real thing.

From now on, if Margaret wanted
to see Henry,

she would have to make
the long journey to Raglan

Lord Herbert's magnificent castle
in Wales.

And she would have to accept
hospitality from a Yorkist.

Although wardship was a normal part
of medieval aristocratic life,

Margaret must have found it
very hard to bear.

Her son had been taken from her
and placed with her enemy

and there was nothing
she could do about it.

But in taking Henry
out of Margaret's hands

and putting him
with one of his favourites,

the king had merely underlined
how important he was.

We know that Margaret visited Henry
at least once.

She stayed with her son in
Raglan Castle for about a week

before she had to face the pain
of separation once again.

I think it did affect her
very strongly.

He was her only child, she was
not able to have another one.

And their relationship
had been forged

in this time of terrible danger.

First of all, she'd learned that her
husband had succumbed to the plague,

she was alone and vulnerable,

and that gave an intensity
to their relationship.

And I think when they were
separated, it impacted on her a lot.

It must have been terribly hard

for Margaret to leave her son
in the hands of the enemy,

even if she knew that he was being
raised as a nobleman

in the house of a favourite
of the king.

Worse for her must have been
the fear that the Yorks

would be turning him to their side,

That the boy she had named
for the Lancastrian king

was becoming a Yorkist.

Margaret had dreams for her son

that could only be realised
through years of patient scheming.

But immediate action was needed

to save the children of the widow
Elizabeth Woodville.

Her husband was dead,
she had no source of income

and she and her boys
were facing ruin.

To save her family, she was forced
to turn to the man

who had brought this misery on them.

Edward, the newly-crowned king.

According to the traditional story,

Elizabeth waited for Edward
under an oak tree

with her two fatherless boys.

When the king appeared, she stepped
forward and begged him to help her.

Edward, a notorious womaniser,

was so struck by Elizabeth's beauty
that he fell for her at once.

Edward did just fall hard
for Elizabeth.

It was love or lust,
whichever way you care to look at it.

She was beautiful, all reports say,

and in the way that the age
most admired.

I mean, the age admired
a willowy figure,

golden hair, white skin,
perhaps grey or blue eyes.

Apparently powerless,
without friends or family

who could help her, Elizabeth's
situation had seemed hopeless.

But she still had one powerful tool
available to her.

In many ways, Elizabeth
was trading her beauty,

her sexual appeal,
for great position.

And good on her, really.

Because a women didn't necessary
have very many weapons

in the 15th century.

And if she was going to try and carve
her own place in the world,

her looks and her allure

were really one
of the strongest tools she had.

The young king may have assumed
that he could have a secret affair.

He'd had many lovers. Other women
were happy to be his mistress.

It was said that he went for
women of all sorts.

Noble, lowly, married, unmarried.

I mean, the Chronicler does say,
rather nicely,

with, you know, some admiration,

that nonetheless,
he overcame none by force.

He did all by, you know,
money and promises.

But that having won them,
he then dismissed them.

Elizabeth resisted
Edward's advances.

Chroniclers at the time reported
that she was so determined,

she held him off with his own
dagger.

There's stories that he held a knife
to her throat,

that she held a knife to his throat,

but that either way, she said
if she was too low to be his wife,

she was too high to be his concubine.

And that might have appealed
to Edward.

In Elizabeth, he'd met a woman
who was not prepared to be dismissed.

Elizabeth left the completely
love-struck king

with only one option.

One morning, he rode to the Rivers'
home for a secret ceremony

that would change the fortunes of
the House of York and of the nation.

According to chroniclers, Jacquetta
was the only family member present

when Edward and Elizabeth
were married on May Day.

A day for lust, for love
and for the celebration of life.

The marriage was consummated
immediately.

For the next few weeks, the handsome
young king of the House of York

was creeping every night

into a staunchly Lancastrian home
to be with his bride.

Elizabeth's mother must have
encouraged this secret passion

because she knew that their marriage

could reap enormous benefits
for the Woodville family

and pave the way to Elizabeth's role
as the first woman of England.

If Edward could keep his throne,
she would be queen.

But Elizabeth's new husband,
the king,

had underestimated the outrage
his marriage would cause.

Especially amongst powerful nobles
like the Earl of Warwick.

When the news escaped,
when Edward told the council,

they and his family
were absolutely horrified.

Kings were supposed to make
a big public marriage

with a foreign princess
for the advantage of the country,

not make a love match.

And indeed, it was even said

that Edward was proving himself
to be no true monarch

in doing something so undignified
and extraordinary.

In the eyes of the English nobility,
she was wrong on practically every
count.

The fact she was a widow
really meant she was tarnished

by this previous relationship.
They did call her a bigamist.

And the fact that she had children
by this previous marriage

made it considerably worse.

She was so much the wrong person
for him to have married.

Edward's choice of bride
was not just scandalous,

it was deeply offensive to the man
who had made him king,

Warwick the Kingmaker.

For a start, Elizabeth Woodville's
family

had been traditional Lancastrians,

so what was a Yorkist king doing
marrying her?

For another, Warwick was
in the middle of negotiating

a diplomatic, advantageous,
continental alliance for Edward.

So he looked a fool
when he was suddenly told,

no, no, Edward was married already.

Edward had forgotten
his duties as king

and recklessly chosen his own bride
for no other reason than blind love.

Or was it even worse than love?

No other English king had married
for love before.

Was young Edward in the grip
of intemperate lust?

Suspicious rumours
began to circulate

that would have dangerous
repercussions.

Perhaps some malign influence
was at work.

Some people even suggested Edward
had been seduced by witchcraft.

Belief in witchcraft was universal
in the 15th century.

In the power of spells, incantations,
charms and herbs.

What's more, it was one of the few
accusations

from which even royal rank
couldn't protect a woman.

There'd already been,
in that century,

two royal women imprisoned for it.

But the enchanted Edward
was sure of his choice.

And Elizabeth's transformation
was complete.

From obscure country lady, she had
emerged as the new Queen of England.

And in May 1465, Edward officially
confirmed her status

with a highly glamorous and lavish
ceremony in Westminster Abbey.

Elizabeth entered the abbey
barefoot,

dressed in purple, followed by
the lords and ladies of the court.

She passed through the choir,

knelt and prostrated herself before
the high altar

while the archbishop conducted
the service,

anointing her on her
forehead and her breast.

Then, after receiving
the coronation ring on her finger

and the crown on her head,

she was solemnly led to the throne
itself.

In the magnificent abbey,

Edward paraded his new queen
in a dazzling show

attended by the most
important nobles of Europe.

The public spectacle
of her coronation

could not have been more unlike
the secret wedding at the Rivers'
family home.

That had been a private,
personal affair.

This was a matter
of international politics.

As Queen of England,
Elizabeth Woodville

was the first of our women to win
the highest position in the realm.

Margaret Beaufort seemed further
from achieving her aspirations
than ever before.

And Anne Neville had seen her father
the Kingmaker

sidelined by the new king.

But he wouldn't take this treatment
lightly.

He was still the richest noble
in the land.

And he set out to prove it,

with flamboyant demonstrations
of his wealth.

Entertaining, giving large
banquets and parties

was a way of showing off
your wealth, your power

and also of networking.

So, Warwick, yes,
he did entertain lavishly,

he did give very large parties

and even as he moved about
the countryside,

he would have a large retinue
of men at arms,

he would have his banners,
his emblems with him,

so that every stage of his life
was a carefully choreographed ballet

to manifest his power
upon the world.

When his brother was promoted
to Archbishop of York,

the second most powerful position
in the church,

Warwick the Kingmaker
threw an enormous feast.

We have the menu of the feast

and it shows that the Nevilles
would go to extraordinary lengths

to demonstrate their wealth.

The feast lasted several days

and 2,000 guests drank their way
through 25,000 gallons of wine

and ate, among other things,

4,000 mallard and 500 buck and stag.

One table at this great
Neville dinner

was reserved for the young people,

the royal kinsmen and women
of the House of York.

Seated together, with some ladies
of the royal court,

were Anne Neville
and Richard of Gloucester,

the king's younger brother.

She was nine and he was thirteen.

And he was invited to the feast
because he was her father's ward.

So Anne and Richard were growing up
in the same household.

It was a mark of Anne's high status
that she was living

under the same roof as the king
of England's own brother.

The boy who would become
Richard III.

Anne Neville was brought up,
if not to think of herself
quite as a princess,

then certainly something close
to it.

She knew that her father had
great wealth, great influence

and very important
political connections

and I think this must have informed
her sense of self, of who she was

and what her expectations
of her life might be.

Anne's father,
Warwick the Kingmaker,

was becoming more and more resentful
of the new Queen of England,

the former loyal Lancastrian
and commoner Elizabeth Woodville.

As Queen, Elizabeth could use
pillow talk

to influence her husband the king.

And this was of huge benefit
to her family.

She had five brothers
and seven sisters

who were found excellent marriages
and great positions in the realm.

The Woodvilles were a large,
extensive, enthusiastic

and some said rapacious family,

who very quickly began snapping up
the available positions,

awards, heirs to marry.

It did look to their enemies

as though the Woodvilles were staging
a takeover of the country.

But not even the Earl of Warwick
could deny

that in her most
important duty to king and country,

Elizabeth exceeded expectations.

As Queen, Elizabeth's main job
was to produce heirs.

Making the dynasty secure

and proving that it was blessed
by God.

Elizabeth was expected to be
fertile, and she didn't disappoint.

Within the first five years
of her marriage to Edward,

she gave birth to three daughters.

The birth of royal heirs
was attended

by much ritual and superstition.

Each time Elizabeth had a baby,
she had to follow a strict protocol.

When the queen was
expecting to give birth,

she would effectively retire
from the court.

There would be a ceremonial mass

that was attended by a lot
of people as a farewell,

and then she retired
into a suite of rooms

that had been specially prepared
for her.

At this point, women of her
household would take on roles

that had previously been fulfilled
by men, and deliver what was needed.

The queen passed the last few weeks
of her pregnancy

served exclusively by women.

There's a wonderful description
of the inner sanctum,

the room where she was actually
going to give birth.

It's very dark and warm.

There's got to be carpets on the
floor, on the ceiling and the walls,

it's got to be blue
with fleur-de-lis.

Blue, of course was the colour
of the Virgin Mary

and so, fleur-de-lis was her symbol,
so it's connecting in with this.

There's a sumptuous main bed,

which the bedspread would be edged
in velvet and ermine,

but then, there was a pallet bed,

which had a big canopy over it
in crimson

with gold crowns all over it.

After giving birth, the Queen
was expected to rest for two months

before she ceremoniously
re-entered public life.

There was a long procession to the
chapel and that's where she would be
churched,

the ceremony of purifying, which had
a bishop putting holy water over her

and then, after that, they went in
for mass.

All of this ritual was designed
to celebrate the arrival

of what might be the future king.

For Edward, a usurper of the throne,

these customs were a very public way
to reaffirm his dynasty.

This contemporary image of Elizabeth
with her three daughters

is not just a reminder
of her fertility.

It demonstrates how unusual
she was as a royal, medieval mother.

She has her children by her side.

She didn't farm them out
to aristocratic connections,

as other high-status mothers did.

She kept them by her.

She was a devoted mother in a way
that we can understand today.

But she had failed in one key duty -

Elizabeth hadn't yet produced
the all-important son and heir.

And as each daughter arrived, the
Earl of Warwick's resentment grew.

Eight years after putting Edward
on the throne,

Warwick the Kingmaker could
no longer tolerate the grasping
Rivers family

and his relationship with Edward
collapsed completely.

Warwick was deeply resentful
that he had been replaced

in the central councils of the King,

indeed as the most principal
supporter

and subject...minister
of the crown,

by, in particular, Earl Rivers,
Queen Elizabeth Woodville's father.

The Kingmaker began to enact
his rebellion.

Against the King's wishes,

he married his eldest daughter

to the King's brother,

George, Duke of Clarence,

cementing a dangerous alliance

in opposition to Edward.

Together, Warwick and George
issued a proclamation

against certain "seditious persons"
in court.

Warwick the Kingmaker declared
that the King was being misled

by these evil ministers,

the government of the kingdom
was falling into rack and ruin

and he, Warwick the Kingmaker,
was going to put it right.

After eight peaceful years in
England, war was looming once more.

Having installed Edward
on the throne,

Anne Neville's all-powerful father

now set out to remove him
and seize control.

When the Kingmaker took up arms
against the King at Edgecote Moor,

England was pitched into the most
unstable time in its history.

Once again, the families
of these three women went to war.

Anne Neville saw her father

boldly turn against the King
he'd once served.

Elizabeth Woodville was about
to pay an awful price

for her meteoric rise to power.

And Margaret Beaufort's adored son,

who had been growing up
in the house of a Yorkist noble,

was about to come
under terrible threat.

On the eve of battle, Margaret
would have been at her home,

praying for a York defeat.

But her loyalties
would have been divided,

because fighting for the enemy
was her 12-year-old son Henry.

He'd been led into his first battle
by his guardian,

the Yorkist commander
William Herbert.

Margaret must have been
beside herself,

praying for a York defeat,

hoping for the safety of her son.

The battle was a disaster for York.

Henry's protector, William Herbert,
suffered an awful fate.

He was overwhelmed by rebels,

dragged away and executed
by Warwick the Kingmaker.

The boy, Henry,
who must have seen all this happen,

was abandoned on the battlefield.

Margaret sent out frantic messages

to try and find out
what had happened to her son.

She must have feared
he was captured or dead.

But the boy had been escorted
from the battlefield

in a state of terror.

He and Herbert's widow had found
safety in a house nearby.

Margaret sent a party
of trusted servants to find him

and generously rewarded those
who had saved her son.

For Henry himself, she sent a gift,

a reminder of his inescapable
destiny - a bow and arrows.

Without her son, Margaret's
ambitions would come to nothing

and this battle had come close
to taking him from her.

But Elizabeth Woodville would suffer
devastating, permanent loss

with Warwick the Kingmaker's
victory.

Warwick's triumph meant
that he became England's ruler.

He captured Elizabeth's husband,
the King,

and imprisoned him in his castle.

But his treatment of the Woodville
family was much more savage.

He seized the Queen's
father and brother

and, without trial or charge,
had them beheaded.

This was an act of pure revenge,
driven by hatred and jealousy.

Having dealt with the men
of the family,

Warwick turned his attention
to the matriarch - Jacquetta.

He sent an armed guard
to snatch her from her home

and imprisoned her here,
in Warwick Castle.

Grief-stricken, having just lost
her husband and her son,

Jacquetta now faced their murderer

as he accused her of a crime
punishable by death.

Capitalising on rumours

circulating from the marriage
of King Edward and Elizabeth,

Warwick claimed that Jacquetta
had used magic

to bewitch the King
into marrying her daughter.

Witchcraft in the 15th century
is the ability to influence

what happens to another person

either by making them sick,

making them love you or hate you,

making them lucky or unlucky
by cursing them.

Fear of the power of the witch

tapped into fear of woman's power
in general.

I mean, a witch could be
this old crone over a cauldron,

but she could also be young
and beautiful,

wielding a dangerous sexual magic

and, of course, that very much
ties in all too neatly

with the story of Elizabeth
Woodville's marriage

and how it was made.

Jacquetta's fate was in the hands
of her sworn enemy

and the murderer
of her husband and son.

As she waited in this castle,
the odds were stacked against her.

One word from the Earl of Warwick
was enough

to condemn her to death
by strangulation.

Warwick didn't just want
Jacquetta dead,

he wanted to prove her malign
influence on the young King

and he staged a full show trial
with witnesses.

He even produced
two little figures -

one representing the King
and one the Queen,

which he claimed Jacquetta
had bound together

"with witchcraft and sorcery."

But, incredibly, Jacquetta
escaped her punishment.

The Kingmaker realised
he had over-reached himself.

He didn't have the support
of England's political elite

and he was forced
to set the King free.

Edward intervened and cleared
his mother-in-law's name,

but the Kingmaker's accusations
would have permanent consequences.

Jacquetta was publicly named
as a witch,

the royal wedding condemned
as the product of witchcraft.

A slur was laid on Jacquetta,
and on her daughter Elizabeth,

that would follow them
throughout their lives,

even to the grave and beyond -
into the records of history.

After a brief period
of imprisonment,

Edward IV was back in power.

In March 1470,
he forced Warwick the Kingmaker

and his own brother,
George, Duke of Clarence,

into exile as traitors.

The rebels took their wives
and children

and fled across the Channel.

Unable to find a safe port,

they were nearly wrecked
in stormy seas.

The Kingmaker's thirst for power

had brought his family
into terrible danger.

This was a far cry from Anne
Neville's life of luxury in England.

They're really fleeing for their
lives, and as this is happening,

as if that wasn't traumatic enough,

her sister Isabel has gone into
premature labour

with her first child. There's
no-one on the ship to help them,

they've got no medicine, there is
certainly no question of a doctor

so the only people who would
have been able to help Isabel

were her mother, her sister, Anne,
and their very few maids.

This must have been a terrifying
experience for Anne,

and a very traumatic one because
Isabel, although she survived,

lost her baby.

Anne's life of privilege
was completely torn from her.

Her father, who had seemed
invincible, had been defeated.

Her sister had lost the heir,

they were in exile
from their castles and lands,

and there was no way of knowing how
they would ever get back to England.

Having dragged his family
into this situation,

Warwick needed a drastic plan
to save them.

And he found it.

He would switch sides

and forge an alliance with his
enemies in the House of Lancaster.

Warwick went to Margaret of Anjou -

wife of the deposed
Lancastrian king Henry VI -

with an astounding proposal.

Warwick's strength was always
as a diplomat.

He was brilliant
at manipulating people,

he was brilliant at making
implausible alliances cement.

And the idea he came up with in
France was absolutely preposterous!

He planned to marry his younger
daughter, Anne Neville,

to Prince Edward, the son and heir
of Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou.

Warwick managed to convince
Margaret that the only future

for the Lancastrian cause
lay in this marriage.

She didn't let him off lightly.

He had to grovel on his knees
for a good 15 minutes,

but Warwick pulls it off, this
incredible, improbable alliance,

and his daughter is betrothed
to the Prince of Wales,

which means, potentially, that
she will be Queen of England.

It was an extraordinary turn
of events.

Warwick was prepared to trade a
lifetime of loyalty to York

to see his daughter, Anne,
on the Lancaster throne.

Of course, nobody thought to ask
Anne's opinion of this plan.

It was not her choice.

Her marriage was the key to
reversing her family's fortunes

and saving the House of Lancaster.

The betrothal made,
Anne's father left her in Normandy

and returned to England, raising
a huge army to destroy King Edward.

Edward is completely caught unawares.

It's one of those rare moments

in Edward's career

where he has been unable to
second-guess his opponent.

Luck has run out for him, and faced
with his inability to put an army

together in a short period of time,
he and his closest advisors

decide that flight
is really the only option.

Edward IV was forced to abandon
his throne and the Yorkist cause,

and flee England.

The Lancastrian king Henry VI
was restored in his place.

With her husband on the run,
Elizabeth Woodville,

the former Queen of England,
was now in grave danger.

Anne Neville's life had returned
to its former glory.

Her father, the Kingmaker,

was once again the most powerful
noble in England.

For Margaret Beaufort, seeing her
hero restored to the throne

was reward for years of patient
scheming.

BELLS TOLL

When her husband Edward
escaped abroad,

Elizabeth Woodville was left
powerless, with nowhere to turn.

Pregnant once again, she sought
sanctuary with her mother

and daughters in Westminster Abbey.

The concept of sanctuary was
a kind of right of asylum,

whereby if a fugitive won their way
to a church or monastery

or a place of sanctuary,
they could claim that right

and, for as long as they stayed
there, the law couldn't touch them.

The authorities could not come in
and haul them out by force

so it gave, at the very least,
a breathing space.

As a devout man,

Henry VI would not breach
Elizabeth's right to protection.

This must have been a terrible
time for Elizabeth.

Her husband was far away, perhaps
never to return, and she was

entirely reliant on the kindness
and generosity of the Abbey's staff.

Her only contact with the
outside world were messages

smuggled in by loyal Londoners.

And, in stark contrast to her
previous royal births,

she faced delivering this new baby
in cramped, cold surroundings.

On November 2nd, 1470, in the
sanctuary of Westminster Abbey,

with her mother and three young
daughters present,

Elizabeth Woodville gave birth
to a boy -

Edward IV's all-important male heir.

Elizabeth named him Edward,
for his father, and had him baptised

in the Abbey like a poor man's son,

not like a future king
for the House of York at all.

What should have been a moment of
great rejoicing was actually a time

of great anxiety. What would the
future hold for this little boy?

But Elizabeth Woodville's
anxiety for her child,

the exiled King's son, was in stark
opposition to the opportunities

Margaret Beaufort now saw
for her boy.

The child's uncle, the ailing king
Henry VI, was back on the throne,

and Margaret immediately
arranged for the two to meet.

It was an encounter that
would have lasting significance

for the young mother.

Henry Tudor's official historian
later reported that the frail king

had met the boy and said,

"This is he unto whom both we and
our adversaryes must yeald

"and geave of over the dominion.

"Yt woold come to passe that Henry
Showld in time enjoy the kingdom."

We know that they met,

but this premonition was probably
claimed by Margaret after the event.

She believed that her son was the
Lancastrian king's rightful heir,

and that one day, Henry Tudor
would sit on the throne of England.

This was not yet Margaret's moment.

Her ambitions for her son
could wait.

Her side, the House of Lancaster,
was strengthened by a new alliance -

the marriage between Anne Neville,
the Kingmaker's daughter,

and the king's son and heir,
Edward Prince of Wales.

At this moment, it was Anne
who seemed to have it all.

Her father's plan to put his
daughter on the throne of England

was coming together.

She was Princess of Wales,
married to Henry VI's son,

and if the king could just hold
onto his crown,

one day she would be
queen of England.

Next time, Anne Neville emerges from
the shadow of her Kingmaker father.

Elizabeth Woodville fights
for survival.

And Margaret Beaufort
sees her way clear to power.

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