Joan Beaufort: Scotland’s Controversial Queen

Joan Beaufort was one of the most colorful figures of fifteenth-century Scotland. A queen who owed her crown to a love poem, and later had to fight for power—with a knife in her hand and wounds on her body.

The Prisoner and His Muse in the Garden

James I Stewart was a king without a kingdom. For eighteen years he was held in English captivity as a political hostage—the Scottish crown awaited him across the sea while he moved between the castles of his wardens. His fate changed around 1420, when he saw a young woman walking in the garden through the window of his cell.

Joan Beaufort was about sixteen at the time and came from one of England’s most powerful families. Her grandfather John of Gaunt was the son of King Edward III, and her uncle Henry Beaufort held the titles of cardinal and Lord Chancellor of England. Interestingly, Joan was also the great-granddaughter of Edward III and cousin to King Richard II—royal blood ran through her veins.

James fell in love at first sight and expressed his feelings as a true Renaissance poet—he wrote her an allegorical love poem titled Kingis Quair, describing his beloved as a beauty who could enchant the whole world. It might be the only case in history when a prisoner won the heart of an aristocrat through literature.

Of course, a poem alone was not enough for marriage. England had its own plans for this union—by installing a puppet queen, it hoped to pull Scotland away from its traditional alliance with France. Negotiations were tough and pragmatic. Joan’s dowry of ten thousand marks was deducted from the enormous ransom for James’s release. Politics and poetry struck a compromise.

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The Queen Who Begged for Mercy

The wedding took place on 12 February 1424 at St Mary Overie Church in Southwark, London. The feast was hosted by Cardinal Henry Beaufort at his Winchester Palace, showing off the Beaufort family’s power to all of Europe. Soon after, the young couple sailed to Scotland, where they were crowned at Scone Abbey.

Joan quickly adapted to her new role and developed her own way of wielding power. She was not interested in war strategies or political intrigue—but she regularly intervened in matters of life and death. When her husband condemned someone to execution, Joan interceded on behalf of the condemned, asking for pardon. The most famous case was Alexander Macdonald, Lord of the Isles, who in 1429 plundered and burned parts of the Scottish Highlands. Although his crimes called for revenge, the queen pleaded for forgiveness on his behalf.

During thirteen years of marriage Joan bore eight children. Among them were the future James II and Margaret, who would become Queen of France as the wife of Louis XI. Despite her move to distant Scotland, Joan maintained contacts with her English family—her brothers and uncles visited the royal court, sometimes ahead of official diplomatic missions.

Night in Perth

The evening of February 21, 1437, changed everything. James I was staying at the Dominican monastery in Perth when assassins led by Walter Stewart, Earl of Atholl, broke in. The king stood no chance—the attackers dealt dozens of wounds, massacring his body. Joan was also targeted and seriously injured, but she managed to survive.

What happened next revealed this woman’s true strength of character. Instead of hiding and mourning her husband, Joan made a decision shocking even by the harsh standards of the time. She displayed James’s mutilated body to the public. The details of his wounds spread across Europe, inspiring outrage and sympathy. It was a masterstroke of propaganda—the brutality of the murder mobilized supporters of the crown more effectively than any speech.

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Joan swiftly organized retaliation. She led her husband’s supporters, who captured and punished the murderers. The Earl of Atholl paid for his crime with his life. For several months, the wounded widowed queen effectively ruled Scotland as regent for her underage son—the first queen mother to wield such power since the thirteenth century.

An Englishwoman on the Scottish Throne

Joan’s triumph lasted only three months. The Scottish nobility would not tolerate the rule of an Englishwoman, even if she had just avenged the murdered king and protected his heir. The prospect of a long regency by a member of the Beaufort family was unacceptable to the proud lords. Power was transferred to the Earl of Douglas, although Joan retained custody of her son and represented his interests.

Yet, the former queen did not intend to give up the struggle for power. In July 1439, she married James Stewart, known as the Black Knight of Lorne. She needed a papal dispensation due to their kinship and affinity. It was only the second time in Scottish history that a queen mother remarried.

James Stewart was an ally of the new Earl of Douglas, and together they conspired against Alexander Livingston, governor of Stirling Castle. The struggle for influence during the minority of James II became increasingly dangerous. Livingston struck first—on August 3, 1439, he arrested Joan and forced her to give up custody of the young king. She was released only at the end of the month, but she never recovered her power.

Joan Beaufort died on July 15, 1445, at Dunbar Castle. She was buried beside her first husband in the Carthusian monastery in Perth. Thus, it was there—thirteen years after she witnessed his mutilated body—that she planned the revenge which shook all of Europe.

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Rory Thornfield
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Rory's grandfather left behind a wartime diary filled with accounts of a minor Burma skirmish that history books never mentioned. Reading it, Rory realized: behind every famous battle are dozens of forgotten struggles, each with its own human drama.

His preferred topics: The overlooked corners of military history – secondary campaigns, shadow battalions, local conflicts that never made headlines. From medieval sieges to twentieth-century expeditions, he focuses on the soldiers, not the generals. The people who faced impossible choices and carried those experiences forever.

Rory strips away the romanticism without losing respect for those who served. He combines tactical analysis with personal stories, examining human endurance and moral complexity rather than celebrating warfare. His writing is balanced, thoughtful, and deeply researched.

Outside work, Rory visits forgotten battlefields (now quiet farmland), photographs war memorials nobody tends anymore, and interviews veterans' families.