Thomas Stukeley: Henry VIII’s Secret Son?

I’m continuing my Henry VIII series by considering another person who was, according to some rumours, fathered by King Henry VIII?

Could Thomas Stukeley, a daring adventurer and notorious rogue, have been an illegitimate son of Henry VIII?

In this video, I explore the fascinating life of Stukeley, from his noble beginnings and military exploits to his controversial career as a pirate and spy. Discover the rumours and evidence that suggest he might have been the king’s secret son, and delve into the dramatic events that defined his life.

Transcript:

Today, I’m going to continue my series on Henry VIII by exploring the life of Thomas Stukeley (or Stucley), a man rumoured to be an illegitimate son of Henry VIII. Philippa Jones, in her book “The Other Tudors,” asserts that it was commonly believed Stukeley was Henry VIII’s bastard son, noting his strong resemblance to the king, but who was he? What do we know about him?

Thomas Stukeley was born around 1520, the third of five sons (with six sisters) to Sir Hugh Stukeley of Affeton Castle, Devon, and his wife Jane, daughter of Sir Lewis Pollard. Thomas came from a distinguished family. His maternal grandfather was a justice of the common pleas, and his father served as a sheriff of Devon and a knight of the body to Henry VIII.

Thomas likely attended one of the inns of the court before starting his military career, a path often taken by boys of good standing to learn enough law to defend their inheritance. By 1545, he was serving at Berwick Castle, and from 1547, he was a well-paid standard bearer at Boulogne. His substantial earnings were equivalent to over £60 a day in today’s money.

Stukeley’s adventures were numerous and often controversial. In 1550, he served as a standard bearer in the Scottish borders and escorted the Marquis de Maine to Scotland. The next year, he joined Robert Dudley’s embassy to the French king Henry II. Despite his connection with the Dudleys, Stukeley supported Edward Seymour, Edward VI’s former Lord Protector, who’d been ousted by John Dudley, in his bid to return to power. This led to Seymour’s arrest for treason, and ultimately his execution. Stukeley fled to France, avoiding arrest and leaving a number of debts behind. He seems to have been someone who lived beyond his means and who borrowed heavily.

In France, he served the French in their war against the Habsburgs, returning to England in 1552 with a letter of recommendation from Henry II to Edward VI. However, his claim that he was French spy sent to England and that the French planned to attack Calais and invade England led to his imprisonment in the Tower of London.

In 1553, on Mary I’s accession to the throne, Stukeley was released and he returned to soldiering, serving the Emperor’s forces and the Duke of Savoy in campaigns against the French. He returned to England in 1554, married heiress Anne Curtis, which briefly eased his financial woes. However, in 1555, accused of coining false money, he fled again, resuming service with the Duke of Savoy.

Stukeley’s exploits included fighting at the Battle of St Quentin in 1557 and engaging in privateering (or piracy) against French and Spanish ships. Despite several legal troubles, he often escaped imprisonment due to lack of evidence.

In the early 1560s, Stukeley was involved in military and diplomatic missions, including an embassy with Henry Sidney, Lord Deputy of Ireland, to Shane O’Neill in Ireland. His career in Ireland was tumultuous, although he gained favour with Queen Elizabeth I by pleasing Sidney when he was able to find out crucial information about O’Neill’s plans, his time there was marked by imprisonments and disputes over offices.

In 1564, after his first wife’s death, he married Elizabeth Peppard, a wealthy Irish widow. Despite his efforts, Elizabeth I did not support his ambitions in Ireland. His imprisonment in Dublin Castle in 1569 for obstructing Nicholas White’s rights to the office of Seneschal, and allegedly using coarse language about the queen highlighted his contentious nature.

After his release, Stukeley pretended to head to England but went to Spain with his son William, receiving favour there from Jane, Duchess of Feria, and her husband. He was given a pension, a house and enrolled as a Knight of the Order of Calatrava and addressed at the Spanish court as the Duke of Ireland. He spent years seeking support from Philip II of Spain and the pope for an expedition to Ireland, finally embarking in 1578 with a force of 700. However, his venture ended tragically at the Battle of Alcácer Quibir, or the Battle of the Three Kings, in Morocco, where he was killed when his legs were blown off by cannon fire on 4th August 1578. This battle was immortalized in George Peele’s play The Battle of Alcazar published in 1594, which featured Stukeley as the main protagonist.

Thomas Stukeley’s biographer, Peter Holmes, describes him as a brave and intelligent soldier but also a devious man who courted the limelight. William Cecil, Lord Burghley, criticized him harshly, writing that he had “the highest degree of vain-glory, prodigality, falsehood, and vile and filthy conversation of life… altogether without faith, conscience or religion.”

The question of whether he was Henry VIII’s illegitimate son remains unanswered.

Peter Holmes notes that it was Elizabeth I’s withdrawal of favour in 1566, when Thomas wanted promotion in Ireland, that seems to have been the turning point in his life, as her treatment of him helped to justify his move to treason, particularly as at that point Thomas had the favour and support of men like William Cecil. Holmes writes “Whether Elizabeth’s suspicions and Stucley’s intemperate response to them really did stem from a belief that he was her half-brother is an interesting and unanswerable question.”

Philippa Jones suggests that the behaviour of Edward VI, Mary I, and Elizabeth I towards Stukeley indicate that they believed him to be their half-brother. Jones writes of how he was a spy, double agent, pirate, bankrupt, forger, liar, fraudster and traitor, but that he only suffered a few months in prison for his crimes. However, it was lack of evidence against him that led to the cases against him being quashed, and he tended to flee to avoid trouble and arrest. It’s quite a leap to suggest that it was down to him being their half-brother, particularly when there were other men who also got away with things due to royal favour, lack of evidence, or fleeing. There is no solid evidence to support this claim, only hearsay and circumstantial details.

James Fitzgerald, an Irish exile who met Stukeley in Rome, mentioned that some believed Stukeley to be Henry VIII’s son, but this was merely repeating rumours.

Philippa Jones also cites as 17th century broadside ballad “The Famous History of the Life and Death of Captain Thomas Stukeley” as evidence for his paternity, with it saying:

“Yet with this blood of ours the blood of kings
Shall be commixt, and with their fame our fame
Shall be eterniz’d in the mouths of men.”

But it’s a ballad, not a historical document. It’s not evidence.

There are also no records of Stukeley claiming this lineage or of Henry’s legitimate children acknowledging it.

But is there any evidence for his mother being the king’s mistress? Well, no, not that I can find. Amy Licence in her book “The Six Wives and Many Mistresses of Henry VIII” writes of how the king was reputed to have stayed at Affeton Castle, home of Stukeley’s parents, but I couldn’t find any mention of this in the records. There’s just nothing to link her with the king or any firm evidence to link her son with the king.

In conclusion, the evidence for Stukeley being Henry VIII’s son is scant and primarily based on speculation and hearsay.
But what do you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Notes, Sources and Further Reading

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