athousandtales:

If we ask ourselves what manner of man Henry VII was, there is no simple or assured answer. When all the available evidence is surveyed we are still obliged to rely a good deal upon conjecture. Notwithstanding the substantial materials that survive for the history of the reign and of the king’s activities, there is astonishingly little of an intimate nature, little unequivocal revelation of his personality. As to his appearance, we have to think of a man impressive and outstanding – tall, rather slender, dignified, of sallow complexion, and rather aquiline features, whose most striking characteristic was the vivacity of his expression and the brilliance of his small blue eyes, especially animated in conversation. He was a man of high qualities and great ability and he devoted himself to his duties as king with a degree of devotion and a professionalism unwonted in most of his predecessors. He displayed a far-reaching comprehension of affairs of State and remained always the essential pivot upon which government turned. No minister of his at any time overshadowed the throne. His talent for choosing the right man for ministerial posts was remarkable. Their loyalty and service to him were matched by his loyalty and trust in them. He was astute, cautious, prudent, patient. He attempted nothing rash or ill-considered, avoided impetuosity, and generally manifested a well-informed and well-balanced mind. He was neither bloodthirsty nor militant. Generally conciliatory, he could be drastic, ruthless, and firm when occasion demanded. He was markedly decisive in thought and action. He was never dilatory when crises demanded fast response. His political wisdom came to be universally acknowledged. His relations with his parliaments were tactful and sensible, generally constructive, and he avoided any acute friction by his recognition that there were limits to what was practicable. He did not regard himself as a great legislator, but assented to numerous measures of a practical, unspectacular nature which he, his ministers, or other persons initiated. There was nothing theoretical about his attitudes or his policies. He followed the art of the possible in a calm and sober manner, eschewing bombast, vainglory, and over-inflated ambition. He may have been a more colourful personality than our generally opaque materials reveal, perhaps more human, warmer, and more capable of humour than our evidence shows. That he could occupy himself in a variety of pastimes, and encourage music, dancing, poetry, and literature, is clear enough, but the impression remains of a degree of austerity and aloofness which always stood between him and popularity. His subjects learnt to respect him and his achievements, or most of them, but it is hard to find evidence that they loved him. He was capable of liberality, of compassion, and of unpredictable gestures of consideration for unfortunates. He may indeed have been thought of as the English Solomon, but this tribute is not one which in itself inspires affection. He had a reputation for honesty and reliability and was generally candid and forthright, but capable of sustained dissimulation and prolonged diplomatic manœuvring, whilst as a rule keeping steadily to his own targets. He attained too a measure of diplomatic skill that was not unequal to coping with the arch-intriguers of his day (…) He knew how to get substantially his own objectives without excessive commitment and without stooping to the unscrupulousness of his rivals. He was unwavering in the pursuit of his political ends. These were fundamentally: security, wealth, as good law and order as was practicable, but subjected to interference at times in his own self-interest; the maintenance of peace, the supremacy of the Crown, the firm establishment of his dynasty at home and abroad; the furtherance of his realm’s position among the European powers. He did not fail in these basic objectives. (…) When the end came for Henry on 21 April 1509, he had no reason to feel unduly apprehensive about England’s international position.

– Henry VII, by S. B. Chrimes.