Though he was not a member of the House of York, Edmund Mortimer, 5th and last Earl of March had a huge impact on it, not least by getting all three of Edmund of Langley's children into trouble on his behalf, and then by conveniently dying and leaving all he had to his sister's son, Richard, Duke of York.
Note to Shakespeare lovers - do not confuse this Edmund with his Uncle Edmund, who died in 1409. The Bard of Avon tends to do this, but you see, he was not a historian.
Born on 6 November 1391, Edmund was the son of Roger Mortimer, Earl of March and Alianore Holland, eldest daughter of the Earl of Kent (and half-niece to Richard II). He was only six years old when his father was killed in Ireland in July 1398 and the custody of his estates shared out between Edward of York, Duke of Aumale, John Holland, Duke of Exeter, and Thomas Holland, Duke of Surrey - his mother's brother.
After the accession of Henry IV Edmund and his brother Roger became what Pugh, with his characteristic bluntness, calls 'in effect, state prisoners'. They were lodged at Berkhampstead and Windsor Castles until Constance of York's 1405 plot, after which they were moved to Pevensey for the next three years.
In 1409 they were transferred to the household of Henry, Prince of Wales (future Henry V), and in November 1412 Edmund was given livery of his estates, his brother Roger dying soon afterwards. However Edmund wanted to choose his own wife - Anne Stafford - and because of this marriage Henry V fined him the unprecedented sum of 10,000 marks. (About £6,666.)
To be clear, Henry was entitled to levy a fine, but the amount was wholly unreasonable. Not even Henry VII matched this sort of greed. Because of this, and the cost of equipping himself to join Henry's French expedition, Edmund had to raise a huge loan, mortgaging a large proportion of his English and Welsh estates to a syndicate of rich individuals. He still owed much of the money at the time of his death.
It seems as certain as anything can be that this was the motive for his agreement to join in the Southampton Plot organised by his former brother-in-law, Richard of Conisbrough, Earl of Cambridge. However his nerve quickly cracked and it appears he was the one who betrayed the plotters, receiving a pardon on 7 August 1415.
The result of course was that no one trusted him with any further plots, and his 'threat' to Henry V was effectively neutralised. Though absent from Agincourt due to sickness he took a significant part in Henry's French wars, not least because Henry didn't care to leave him in England. His efforts received no reward.
After Henry V's death, Edmund was accused of having too large a household, and of keeping open house to win support. His kinsman Sir John Mortimer was accused of treason and, after escaping from the Tower (twice!) was executed. The final solution to the Mortimer question was to send Edmund off to Ireland as Lieutenant in 1424. Like his father before him, he died there. In January 1425. He had no children, though his widow went on to have children with another man.
Edmund's brother and sisters had died before him (the Mortimers rarely seem to have made old bones) and only Anne, Richard of Conisbrough's wife, had had any children. So the Mortimer inheritance came to the House of York, and, particularly after the debts had been paid and Earl Edmund's widow had died, completely transformed the family fortunes. Richard, Duke of York, was to be the richest subject since Henry Bolingbroke - and with similar results.
Main source for this again the invaluable Henry V and the Southampton Plot by T.B. Pugh.
Showing posts with label Edward Duke of Aumale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Edward Duke of Aumale. Show all posts
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
The House of York takes stock.
The events of January 1400 had a major impact on the York family, though on some more than others.
Edmund of Langley had established himself as a loyal supporter of Henry IV, though Richard's deposition had naturally cost him the Lancastrian properties and offices he'd been granted. He was in ill health, in particular he had severe skeletal problems, and after this point he seems to have retired from active public life.
Edward of York had lost his Aumale title, and was probably lucky not to have lost his life, being more culpable than most members of Richard's government. He suffered severe financial losses because of the resumption of his 1397 grants, but on the other hand Henry was already showing him limited favour (for example the grant of the Isle of Wight) and was to continue to employ him in various offices, albeit none as lofty as those he had enjoyed under Richard.
Richard of Conisbrough still had his annuities and his position was theoretically unchanged. He was not to know that Henry IV was soon to become effectively bankrupt and unable to honour annuities.
Constance of York had lost her husband and was notionally penniless because although Despenser had not been attainted (yet) everyone proceeded on the assumption that he had been. Widows of attainted men were not entitled to dower, and the jointure she had was in lands granted in 1397 and taken back. Fortunately for her, Henry IV was quite generous in providing for her, starting with the gift of £30 found on Despenser's body. It appears (if my understanding of the process is correct) that she kept submitting petitions, and as each one was granted went back and petitioned for a bit more. Forfeits of treason apart (most of Despenser's moveable property* and certain lands granted quickly away to others) she eventually ended up with the whole of the Despenser lands (bar her mother-in-law's dower) and the wardship of her son. She had to pay a rental (farm) for this, but that was par for the course, and she even had a protection written in that the wardship was not to be taken away if someone else offered to pay more! In the case of the manor of Bawtry (Yorkshire) she was in dispute with someone who had been granted it by the King, but it seems she won this fight as she certainly died possessed of Bawtry.
(*I should mention that some part of Despenser's property went missing, and the King sent out a commission to discover what had happened to it. Presumably it was either stolen or hidden away by well-wishers.)
The only widow the King treated with similar kindness was his sister, Elizabeth of Lancaster, and as I have mentioned before, it seems to me that Henry Bolingbroke had due respect for Plantagenet blood. He was very much less generous to the countesses of Salisbury and Wiltshire, for example, who received the next thing to damn all.
Edmund of Langley had established himself as a loyal supporter of Henry IV, though Richard's deposition had naturally cost him the Lancastrian properties and offices he'd been granted. He was in ill health, in particular he had severe skeletal problems, and after this point he seems to have retired from active public life.
Edward of York had lost his Aumale title, and was probably lucky not to have lost his life, being more culpable than most members of Richard's government. He suffered severe financial losses because of the resumption of his 1397 grants, but on the other hand Henry was already showing him limited favour (for example the grant of the Isle of Wight) and was to continue to employ him in various offices, albeit none as lofty as those he had enjoyed under Richard.
Richard of Conisbrough still had his annuities and his position was theoretically unchanged. He was not to know that Henry IV was soon to become effectively bankrupt and unable to honour annuities.
Constance of York had lost her husband and was notionally penniless because although Despenser had not been attainted (yet) everyone proceeded on the assumption that he had been. Widows of attainted men were not entitled to dower, and the jointure she had was in lands granted in 1397 and taken back. Fortunately for her, Henry IV was quite generous in providing for her, starting with the gift of £30 found on Despenser's body. It appears (if my understanding of the process is correct) that she kept submitting petitions, and as each one was granted went back and petitioned for a bit more. Forfeits of treason apart (most of Despenser's moveable property* and certain lands granted quickly away to others) she eventually ended up with the whole of the Despenser lands (bar her mother-in-law's dower) and the wardship of her son. She had to pay a rental (farm) for this, but that was par for the course, and she even had a protection written in that the wardship was not to be taken away if someone else offered to pay more! In the case of the manor of Bawtry (Yorkshire) she was in dispute with someone who had been granted it by the King, but it seems she won this fight as she certainly died possessed of Bawtry.
(*I should mention that some part of Despenser's property went missing, and the King sent out a commission to discover what had happened to it. Presumably it was either stolen or hidden away by well-wishers.)
The only widow the King treated with similar kindness was his sister, Elizabeth of Lancaster, and as I have mentioned before, it seems to me that Henry Bolingbroke had due respect for Plantagenet blood. He was very much less generous to the countesses of Salisbury and Wiltshire, for example, who received the next thing to damn all.
Thursday, 18 September 2008
The Epiphany Rising or 'Rebellion of the Earls'
Richard's friends almost inevitably started to plot together. The two Hollands (formerly Exeter and Surrey but now busted down to Huntingdon and Kent respectively) and Salisbury were definitely involved. Thomas Despenser was almost certainly involved, although there is just a small chance that he wasn't as he doesn't get much of a mention in most accounts. As for his brother-in-law, Edward of York, now Earl of Rutland again, if he was involved (and it's not absolutely certain that he was) he betrayed the conspirators.
Other people involved included Lord Lumley (interestingly a retainer of the Earl of Northumberland!) the Abbot of Westminster, the Bishop of Carlisle and Sir Thomas Blount.
Henry was planning to spend Christmas at Windsor. Most of his friends had gone home, especially the big batallions from the North, so he would be there with his household and maybe the odd close friend - though none are mentioned so it was possibly a bit quiet chez Bolingbroke. The basic idea of the conspiracy was to show up mob-handed at Windsor for a proposed tournament, bump off Henry (and possibly his sons) and make Richard king again. Various subsidiary risings were organised, notably one in Cheshire, and Richard Maudelyn, the king's double and likely cousin, was recruited to play the part of Richard until they could get their mitts on the genuine article. (He was locked up in Pontefract Castle with the grim Sir Thomas Swynford, but they probably didn't know it.)
There are three versions of how the plot was betrayed:
1. Elizabeth of Lancaster (Huntingdon/Exeter's wife) told her brother Henry.
2. One of the people involved told a prostitute, who 'peached them.
3. Edward of York bottled it at the last minute and told his father, who told Henry.
It is certain that Henry got his warning very late, and got out of Windsor, slipping through the rebel lines back to London, where he quickly raised an army of supporters. Shortly after the rebels took Windsor, and probably did a fair bit of jumping up and down in their armour when they realised all had gone to pot.
Edward of York meanwhile was leading the van of Henry's forces against men who had been his friends until maybe hours earlier! Some accounts have him parleying with them, but it's certain that they fought him at Maidenhead Bridge, and held him off until after dark.
Thomas Holland and maybe others visited Queen Isabelle who was lodged at Sonning, and some accounts have her leaving with them - if she did she must have soon parted again, as the rebels, hopelessly outnumbered, were in flight. Plan B seems to have been to get to Despenser's Glamorgan. John Holland (Exeter/Huntingdon) had been left behind to raise Richard's supporters in London. Having failed miserably he fled to Essex where he was eventually 'executed' - murdered by a mob in fact.
The others rested at Cirencester, and found themselved assailed by a mob that had been prompted by one of Henry's agents. Thomas Holland (Kent/Surrey) and Salisbury was captured, while Thomas Despenser escaped by legging it over the roofs. At this point someone, accidently or on purpose, set the town on fire.
Holland and Salisbury were taken into custody by Lord Berkeley, who had conveniently arrived on the scene, but it appears that the townsfolk were so miffed by the damage (none of them were insured after all!) that they insisted on taking the pair from Berkeley and beheading them on the spot.
Thomas Despenser got as far as Cardiff, but there made the mistake of getting onto a ship. He and his men were overpowered and taken to Bristol, where there was another piece of lynch justice. Various lesser men were tried at Oxford, and there were a number of full-blown official executions with the full process of hanging, drawing and quartering. A lucky minority received pardons, including one fellow who had saved Bolingbroke's life during the Peasant Revolt of 1381.
The consequence of this was that Henry IV issued an order for Richard II to be murdered. He probably thought that would put an end to any future plots against him. He was seriously mistaken.
Other people involved included Lord Lumley (interestingly a retainer of the Earl of Northumberland!) the Abbot of Westminster, the Bishop of Carlisle and Sir Thomas Blount.
Henry was planning to spend Christmas at Windsor. Most of his friends had gone home, especially the big batallions from the North, so he would be there with his household and maybe the odd close friend - though none are mentioned so it was possibly a bit quiet chez Bolingbroke. The basic idea of the conspiracy was to show up mob-handed at Windsor for a proposed tournament, bump off Henry (and possibly his sons) and make Richard king again. Various subsidiary risings were organised, notably one in Cheshire, and Richard Maudelyn, the king's double and likely cousin, was recruited to play the part of Richard until they could get their mitts on the genuine article. (He was locked up in Pontefract Castle with the grim Sir Thomas Swynford, but they probably didn't know it.)
There are three versions of how the plot was betrayed:
1. Elizabeth of Lancaster (Huntingdon/Exeter's wife) told her brother Henry.
2. One of the people involved told a prostitute, who 'peached them.
3. Edward of York bottled it at the last minute and told his father, who told Henry.
It is certain that Henry got his warning very late, and got out of Windsor, slipping through the rebel lines back to London, where he quickly raised an army of supporters. Shortly after the rebels took Windsor, and probably did a fair bit of jumping up and down in their armour when they realised all had gone to pot.
Edward of York meanwhile was leading the van of Henry's forces against men who had been his friends until maybe hours earlier! Some accounts have him parleying with them, but it's certain that they fought him at Maidenhead Bridge, and held him off until after dark.
Thomas Holland and maybe others visited Queen Isabelle who was lodged at Sonning, and some accounts have her leaving with them - if she did she must have soon parted again, as the rebels, hopelessly outnumbered, were in flight. Plan B seems to have been to get to Despenser's Glamorgan. John Holland (Exeter/Huntingdon) had been left behind to raise Richard's supporters in London. Having failed miserably he fled to Essex where he was eventually 'executed' - murdered by a mob in fact.
The others rested at Cirencester, and found themselved assailed by a mob that had been prompted by one of Henry's agents. Thomas Holland (Kent/Surrey) and Salisbury was captured, while Thomas Despenser escaped by legging it over the roofs. At this point someone, accidently or on purpose, set the town on fire.
Holland and Salisbury were taken into custody by Lord Berkeley, who had conveniently arrived on the scene, but it appears that the townsfolk were so miffed by the damage (none of them were insured after all!) that they insisted on taking the pair from Berkeley and beheading them on the spot.
Thomas Despenser got as far as Cardiff, but there made the mistake of getting onto a ship. He and his men were overpowered and taken to Bristol, where there was another piece of lynch justice. Various lesser men were tried at Oxford, and there were a number of full-blown official executions with the full process of hanging, drawing and quartering. A lucky minority received pardons, including one fellow who had saved Bolingbroke's life during the Peasant Revolt of 1381.
The consequence of this was that Henry IV issued an order for Richard II to be murdered. He probably thought that would put an end to any future plots against him. He was seriously mistaken.
Tuesday, 16 September 2008
Henry IV's first parliament
I was going to write about Henry IV's coronation, but given that it's not actually all that relevant to the House of York which after all this Blog is supposed to be about, I decided not to bother. Though it is intriguing that Philippa, Duchess of Aumale does not seem to have received coronation robes. (The relevant papers are published in, of all places, The Coronation of Richard III - the extant documents edited by Anne F Sutton and P W Hammond; a publication I highly recommend if you can get your mitts on a copy. It's a rare book, and no, you are not having mine, it's too bloody useful!)
So passing gently on, we come to Henry IV's first Parliament which definitely was of interest to the House of York, not least because Edward of York was not far off being lynched. There was a lot of flak flying around concerning the execution of Thomas of Woodstock - everyone seems to have forgotten that Henry IV himself had been a star witness for the crown in 1397! To cut a long story short, Edward was challenged to mortal combat by Lord Fitzwalter (his own wife's stepson!) and as he tried to justify himself half the Parliament seems to have thrown down their gages on one side or the other - nearly all against Edward.
Henry cooled the situation by having John Hall, a valet who was 'only obeying orders' in taking part in Gloucester's death, hanged, drawn and quartered for the amusement of the Parliament.
So passing gently on, we come to Henry IV's first Parliament which definitely was of interest to the House of York, not least because Edward of York was not far off being lynched. There was a lot of flak flying around concerning the execution of Thomas of Woodstock - everyone seems to have forgotten that Henry IV himself had been a star witness for the crown in 1397! To cut a long story short, Edward was challenged to mortal combat by Lord Fitzwalter (his own wife's stepson!) and as he tried to justify himself half the Parliament seems to have thrown down their gages on one side or the other - nearly all against Edward.
Henry cooled the situation by having John Hall, a valet who was 'only obeying orders' in taking part in Gloucester's death, hanged, drawn and quartered for the amusement of the Parliament.
He put the rest of the debate on ice, but then had Edward, Thomas Despenser, Surrey, Exeter and Salisbury put under arrest. They were split up, some to the Tower, others to Windsor.
Their trial followed shortly afterwards - to summarise, they all claimed they had done what they did out of fear of Richard II. They were sentenced to lose all lands gained since 1397 (which was inevitable given that most/all had been taken from Henry's supporters or Henry himself) and also to forfeit the new titles they had been given. Those they had 'oppressed' were encourged to come forward and ask for redress - the odd thing is that no one ever did. It appears that these favourites of a tyrant had been remarkably liberal in their dealings. By medieval standards almost incredibly so.
Salisbury did not have a 'new' title to lose but he had been challenged to a mortal combat by Lord Morley (one of Thomas Despenser's brothers-in-law.) This was arranged, but the Fitzwalter/Edward of York fixture seems to have been cancelled. As it happens the Morley/Salisbury duel was not to take place either.
The accused were released into the custody of the Abbot of Westminster (a Richard II supporter of the first rank) and most were shortly afterwards appointed to Henry's Council! Edward of York (who was almost certainly the most guilty of the bunch, given that Mowbray had died in exile) was actually awarded a number of tasty grants, not least the Lordship of Wight with the office of Constable of Carisbrooke. Henry, it must be said, had a very proper regard for his cousin's royal blood.
Tuesday, 12 August 2008
Fun at Flint
Richard II was taken to Flint Castle , another location that it's still possible to visit, even though the ruins are rather more knocked-about than those at Conwy. He apparently arrived here on the same day he left Conwy, and spent the night, word being sent on to Bolingbroke at Chester.
Next morning Richard rose early and lingered over his breakfast. (He's said to have had little appetite, but maybe by sitting long at the table he allowed his companions to eat at their leisure?) After hearing mass he climbed to the battlements and watched with some alarm as Bolingbroke's army (or whatever part of it was deployed) approached along the shore. Three men spurred ahead of the others - Archbishop Arundel, Edward of York and the Earl of Worcester (Thomas Percy). Richard met this deputation in the keep, but unfortunately we're not told what they said to each other. The transcript would be fascinating, but I think we can take it they didn't talk about the weather or the price of fish. Meanwhile, the Lancastrian forces disposed themselves around the castle, but did not enter.
At this point Richard climbed the battlements again and protested against the show of force. A bit late for that you may think, but it does sort of suggest he was expecting a peaceful settlement. Northumberland went out of the castle and persuaded Bolingbroke not to enter until Richard had eaten - so we can probably assume it was now dinner time. (That's to say round about noon or an hour or two earlier.)
Bolingbroke was literally standing outside the gate. Creton and his companion were introduced to him by Lancaster Herald. Henry told them to have no fear. 'Keep close to me, and I will answer for your lives,' he said. Interesting form of words. By implication, if they wandered about, they could get hurt.
A little later Henry got fed up hanging about and entered the castle. At Northumberland's request Richard, who had been eating in the keep, came down to meet him. Henry immediately bowed low to the ground, then bowed a second time, cap-in-hand, as the King came closer. Richard took off his hood, and welcomed him.
After this show of manners, Henry bowed yet again. 'My lord, I have come sooner than you sent for me and I shall tell you why. It is said that you have governed your people too harshly, and that they are discontented. If it is pleasing to the Lord, I shall help you govern them better.'
'If it pleases you, fair cousin, then it pleases us well,' said Richard.
This is a good example of how one should never take public speeches too literally!
This account is based on Creton, who was an eye witness, as reported by Nigel Saul in his excellent Richard II. The last few posts have also made use of The Royal Household and the King's Affinity by Chris Given-Wilson. For anyone interested in the 1397-1399 period I highly recommend Chronicles of the Revolution 1397-1399, also by Chris Given-Wilson.
Next morning Richard rose early and lingered over his breakfast. (He's said to have had little appetite, but maybe by sitting long at the table he allowed his companions to eat at their leisure?) After hearing mass he climbed to the battlements and watched with some alarm as Bolingbroke's army (or whatever part of it was deployed) approached along the shore. Three men spurred ahead of the others - Archbishop Arundel, Edward of York and the Earl of Worcester (Thomas Percy). Richard met this deputation in the keep, but unfortunately we're not told what they said to each other. The transcript would be fascinating, but I think we can take it they didn't talk about the weather or the price of fish. Meanwhile, the Lancastrian forces disposed themselves around the castle, but did not enter.
At this point Richard climbed the battlements again and protested against the show of force. A bit late for that you may think, but it does sort of suggest he was expecting a peaceful settlement. Northumberland went out of the castle and persuaded Bolingbroke not to enter until Richard had eaten - so we can probably assume it was now dinner time. (That's to say round about noon or an hour or two earlier.)
Bolingbroke was literally standing outside the gate. Creton and his companion were introduced to him by Lancaster Herald. Henry told them to have no fear. 'Keep close to me, and I will answer for your lives,' he said. Interesting form of words. By implication, if they wandered about, they could get hurt.
A little later Henry got fed up hanging about and entered the castle. At Northumberland's request Richard, who had been eating in the keep, came down to meet him. Henry immediately bowed low to the ground, then bowed a second time, cap-in-hand, as the King came closer. Richard took off his hood, and welcomed him.
After this show of manners, Henry bowed yet again. 'My lord, I have come sooner than you sent for me and I shall tell you why. It is said that you have governed your people too harshly, and that they are discontented. If it is pleasing to the Lord, I shall help you govern them better.'
'If it pleases you, fair cousin, then it pleases us well,' said Richard.
This is a good example of how one should never take public speeches too literally!
This account is based on Creton, who was an eye witness, as reported by Nigel Saul in his excellent Richard II. The last few posts have also made use of The Royal Household and the King's Affinity by Chris Given-Wilson. For anyone interested in the 1397-1399 period I highly recommend Chronicles of the Revolution 1397-1399, also by Chris Given-Wilson.
Sunday, 3 August 2008
Richard blows it...
As mentioned below, Richard II landed in South Wales on 24 July and, according to Adam of Usk, sent Thomas Despenser off to muster the men of Glamorgan. An interesting decision, because it suggests that Richard did not plan to advance via South Wales. (Otherwise why not just advance the whole army to Glamorgan and do the recruiting that way?) Presumably the intention was to do a Henry Tudor, that is, to move along the west coast of Wales and cut in towards Shrewsbury. This would (hopefully) allow for a junction with Salisbury and the men of Cheshire.
The problem was this involved hanging around - by 29 July Richard was no further on than Whitland Abbey, still west of Carmarthen! Here he met some of York's messengers. It took him two days more to get to Carmarthen, and there he got word of York's surrender. It's possible he also had word of the fall of Bristol. Despenser had returned by this time, with little or no reinforcement.
At this point Richard completely lost his bottle. He fled at midnight, disguised as a poor priest, taking with him only fifteen companions. These included his half-brother, Exeter, his half-nephew, Surrey, Thomas Despenser, and the bishops of Carlisle, Lincoln (Henry Beaufort!) and St David's. He apparently believed there was a plot to seize him. He objective was to join Salisbury with his portion of the army in the north.
Among those left behind (and probably very cross!) were Edward of York, Duke of Aumale and Thomas Percy, Earl of Worcester. These two were probably suspected of conspiracy, given their close blood ties to York and Northumberland respectively.
Worcester (Northumberland's brother) was the steward of the king's household. Weeping bitterly (if we are to believe Walsingham) he broke his staff of office and told the King's followers they were free to disperse. Then he and Edward (and probably quite a few others!) cut off across country to submit to Henry. What else were they to do?
Richard and his small band of brothers set off on a journey of about 200 miles across what was then very rough country indeed. Those of you who know Wales will be aware of the hills and estuaries in between Carmarthen and Conwy. Imagine that journey with no decent roads, no proper maps, and probably little local knowledge among the party. It took them a good 10 days, and when they got to Conwy it was to find that Salisbury had not been able to keep his men together!
At this point, Richard should have had an Edward IV moment. There were ships in the harbour and they could have sailed straight back to Ireland, where they had left 1500 men and most of the artillery in charge of the 16 year-old Edmund Holland, Surrey's brother. At worst they could have got from there to France and sought assistance. Instead, with absolutely no cards in his hand, Richard decided to negotiate. He sent Surrey and Exeter off to Chester, to parley with Henry.
The problem was this involved hanging around - by 29 July Richard was no further on than Whitland Abbey, still west of Carmarthen! Here he met some of York's messengers. It took him two days more to get to Carmarthen, and there he got word of York's surrender. It's possible he also had word of the fall of Bristol. Despenser had returned by this time, with little or no reinforcement.
At this point Richard completely lost his bottle. He fled at midnight, disguised as a poor priest, taking with him only fifteen companions. These included his half-brother, Exeter, his half-nephew, Surrey, Thomas Despenser, and the bishops of Carlisle, Lincoln (Henry Beaufort!) and St David's. He apparently believed there was a plot to seize him. He objective was to join Salisbury with his portion of the army in the north.
Among those left behind (and probably very cross!) were Edward of York, Duke of Aumale and Thomas Percy, Earl of Worcester. These two were probably suspected of conspiracy, given their close blood ties to York and Northumberland respectively.
Worcester (Northumberland's brother) was the steward of the king's household. Weeping bitterly (if we are to believe Walsingham) he broke his staff of office and told the King's followers they were free to disperse. Then he and Edward (and probably quite a few others!) cut off across country to submit to Henry. What else were they to do?
Richard and his small band of brothers set off on a journey of about 200 miles across what was then very rough country indeed. Those of you who know Wales will be aware of the hills and estuaries in between Carmarthen and Conwy. Imagine that journey with no decent roads, no proper maps, and probably little local knowledge among the party. It took them a good 10 days, and when they got to Conwy it was to find that Salisbury had not been able to keep his men together!
At this point, Richard should have had an Edward IV moment. There were ships in the harbour and they could have sailed straight back to Ireland, where they had left 1500 men and most of the artillery in charge of the 16 year-old Edmund Holland, Surrey's brother. At worst they could have got from there to France and sought assistance. Instead, with absolutely no cards in his hand, Richard decided to negotiate. He sent Surrey and Exeter off to Chester, to parley with Henry.
Sunday, 27 July 2008
Edward of York, betrayer of Richard II?
The French Chronicles, in particular, make out Edward of York to be the guilty betrayer of Richard II. This was certainly believed in France, because the Count of St.Pol hanged an effigy of Edward from a gallows outside the gates of Calais! English sources are a bit more circumspect. but the general impression is that Edward was not exactly Mr.Popularity of 1399/1400. So let's consider the first phase - Edward's conduct in relation to the Irish expedition.
It was probably not a good idea for Richard to hare off to Ireland at this time. There was nothing going on there that was an immediate threat, and it seems he was merely fired up by the breakdown of order in the country. He may have thought he'd settled things in his successful campaign of 1394/95. If so he was deluded.
He may also have doubted Henry would be able to mount a successful invasion. This is not as crazy as it sounds, as Henry was in France, and France was supposed to be Richard's ally.
Edward is criticised for being late to arrive for the muster. He had a good excuse. Richard had sent him up to the Scottish Border to settle some details of the truce. The Scottish Border was a long way, there and back, and presumably he then had to put his retinue in order. It's possible, even likely, that while he was up there he gained some idea of how disgruntled the Percy and Neville clans were. We know he advised Richard to create another wardenship as a means of placating them. However there's nothing to indicate that he got into treasonable discussions.
Was he in correspondence with Bolingbroke? Again, we can't be sure, however it's perfectly possible. He was later to develop a strange love/hate relationship with Henry IV, but nothing Henry did in 1399 suggests that he thought of Edward as a supporter. On the contrary, he was swift to strip Edward of his most important offices, even before he became king.
Over in Ireland they were slow to hear of Henry's landing, and then unable to react because of contrary winds. It's at this point that Richard split his forces, allegedly on Edward's advice. They were in Dublin, and there weren't enough ships to embark the whole force. The decision was to put Lord Salisbury and part of the army into what ships were available, with the object of landing in North Wales and mobilising Chester.
The rest of the army marched to Waterford, and embarked there for South Wales.
Splitting the army was possibly not a good plan, but ships couldn't be created by magic out of thin air, and they were propelled by the wind, not steam, so they were to a large extent at the mercy of the elements. Assembling all the ships in one place would surely have delayed Richard's return even further.
In short, the decision may have been mistaken, but even if it was made on the basis of Edward's advice, that advice was not necessarily treasonable.
It was probably not a good idea for Richard to hare off to Ireland at this time. There was nothing going on there that was an immediate threat, and it seems he was merely fired up by the breakdown of order in the country. He may have thought he'd settled things in his successful campaign of 1394/95. If so he was deluded.
He may also have doubted Henry would be able to mount a successful invasion. This is not as crazy as it sounds, as Henry was in France, and France was supposed to be Richard's ally.
Edward is criticised for being late to arrive for the muster. He had a good excuse. Richard had sent him up to the Scottish Border to settle some details of the truce. The Scottish Border was a long way, there and back, and presumably he then had to put his retinue in order. It's possible, even likely, that while he was up there he gained some idea of how disgruntled the Percy and Neville clans were. We know he advised Richard to create another wardenship as a means of placating them. However there's nothing to indicate that he got into treasonable discussions.
Was he in correspondence with Bolingbroke? Again, we can't be sure, however it's perfectly possible. He was later to develop a strange love/hate relationship with Henry IV, but nothing Henry did in 1399 suggests that he thought of Edward as a supporter. On the contrary, he was swift to strip Edward of his most important offices, even before he became king.
Over in Ireland they were slow to hear of Henry's landing, and then unable to react because of contrary winds. It's at this point that Richard split his forces, allegedly on Edward's advice. They were in Dublin, and there weren't enough ships to embark the whole force. The decision was to put Lord Salisbury and part of the army into what ships were available, with the object of landing in North Wales and mobilising Chester.
The rest of the army marched to Waterford, and embarked there for South Wales.
Splitting the army was possibly not a good plan, but ships couldn't be created by magic out of thin air, and they were propelled by the wind, not steam, so they were to a large extent at the mercy of the elements. Assembling all the ships in one place would surely have delayed Richard's return even further.
In short, the decision may have been mistaken, but even if it was made on the basis of Edward's advice, that advice was not necessarily treasonable.
Thursday, 24 July 2008
Changing Times and All That
I've not managed to post much in July - sorry about that, no particular excuse, just been feeling even more idle than usual. I've been doing a lot of thinking about the Richard III novel, and hope to make some actual progress soon. I've decided to strip the thing down to the bare essentials and ship some of my spare characters off to the Norfolk Novel that I've also got on the stocks. (To be honest I've got an awful lot on the stocks, and very little I could launch tomorrow.)
Anyway, back to the York family circa 1398.
It's highly likely that Richard II expected John of Gaunt to live for several years. Gaunt was only in his fifties, not the near-skeleton of Shakesperean myth. OK, I don't suppose he got too many offers of life insurance, but there's no reason to think he was in particular ill-health. Richard allowed Bolingbroke to appoint proctors to receive his inheritance if Gaunt were to die during the time of his son's banishment.
When Gaunt did die, in February 1399, it threw onto Richard II's plate one of those awful quandries that every government has to face at some time or another. He could either let Bolingbroke inherit (in which case he would have a dangerously over-mighty subject coming home in a few years) or he could block the inheritance, grab the Lancastrian estates and resources, and, with a bit of luck, keep Bolingbroke permanently excluded.
Richard jumped for the latter option, and it was to prove fatal. However, it's worth noting that the alternative might have proved equally fatal in the long run.
From the point of view of the York family, it seems that at this time they were suddenly shot up in the pecking order to heirs to the throne. Roger Mortimer, Earl of March, had died in Ireland, out of royal favour and apparently in danger of arrest; his heir was a child. Bolingbroke was crossed off the list. Had Richard II been run over by a horse that weekend, it appears likely Edmund of Langley would have succeeded. Or maybe Edward of York, given that Richard had apparently told Bagot that Edward was the man for the job!
Both Edmund of Langley and his elder son were among those who received grants of Lancastrian lands and offices. It's worth mentioning though that the grants were not absolute but had a saving clause - until Henry, Duke of Lancaster shall sue for the same. Which is a bit odd, if Richard envisaged outright confiscation.
Anyway, back to the York family circa 1398.
It's highly likely that Richard II expected John of Gaunt to live for several years. Gaunt was only in his fifties, not the near-skeleton of Shakesperean myth. OK, I don't suppose he got too many offers of life insurance, but there's no reason to think he was in particular ill-health. Richard allowed Bolingbroke to appoint proctors to receive his inheritance if Gaunt were to die during the time of his son's banishment.
When Gaunt did die, in February 1399, it threw onto Richard II's plate one of those awful quandries that every government has to face at some time or another. He could either let Bolingbroke inherit (in which case he would have a dangerously over-mighty subject coming home in a few years) or he could block the inheritance, grab the Lancastrian estates and resources, and, with a bit of luck, keep Bolingbroke permanently excluded.
Richard jumped for the latter option, and it was to prove fatal. However, it's worth noting that the alternative might have proved equally fatal in the long run.
From the point of view of the York family, it seems that at this time they were suddenly shot up in the pecking order to heirs to the throne. Roger Mortimer, Earl of March, had died in Ireland, out of royal favour and apparently in danger of arrest; his heir was a child. Bolingbroke was crossed off the list. Had Richard II been run over by a horse that weekend, it appears likely Edmund of Langley would have succeeded. Or maybe Edward of York, given that Richard had apparently told Bagot that Edward was the man for the job!
Both Edmund of Langley and his elder son were among those who received grants of Lancastrian lands and offices. It's worth mentioning though that the grants were not absolute but had a saving clause - until Henry, Duke of Lancaster shall sue for the same. Which is a bit odd, if Richard envisaged outright confiscation.
Monday, 16 June 2008
Mowbray v Bolingbroke (2)
Henry Bolingbroke, having probably talked the matter over with Daddy, broke his tale to the King on or about 20 January 1398, and repeated it to the Parliament that reassembled at Shrewsbury later that month. Richard's initial response was to strip Mowbray of his offices of marshal and admiral. In addition, although Bolingbroke was granted bail on various sureties (including one from his loving cousin, Edward of York) Mowbray was banged up in the Great Wardrobe in London. This suggests that at this point the King thought Henry was telling the truth.
On 23 February, Mowbray was brought before the Council at Oswestry (right up on the northern border of Wales) and denied everything. This led to both men having to attend a further meeting at Bristol in March, this time appearing before a Committee of Parliament. Given that neither of the parties was going to back down, and there were no witnesses, it was pretty inevitable the quarrel was going to have to be decided by combat, and this was what the Committee decided. The combat to be under the auspices of the Court of Chivalry - Edward of York, Duke of Aumale, Constable, and Thomas Holland, Duke of Surrey, Acting Marshal, presiding.
It was widely felt at the time time that the King should have reconciled the pair - this was apparently the advice of the French King to his new son-in-law, while John of Gaunt was allegedly angry about his son having to fight over 'a thing of naught.' All very well, but easier said than done. Far from coming to terms, Bolingbroke chose to add fresh charges. He said that Mowbray was behind all the treasons of the last eighteen years, as well as pinching funds from the Calais garrison and being responsible for the death of the late Duke of Gloucester.
Arrangements were made for a combat outside Coventry on 16 September, and both parties sent off for mail-order armour for the occasion. Edward of York, as Constable, had the job of organising the Big Fight. If only sponsorship had been invented in those days, they could have made a fortune!
On 23 February, Mowbray was brought before the Council at Oswestry (right up on the northern border of Wales) and denied everything. This led to both men having to attend a further meeting at Bristol in March, this time appearing before a Committee of Parliament. Given that neither of the parties was going to back down, and there were no witnesses, it was pretty inevitable the quarrel was going to have to be decided by combat, and this was what the Committee decided. The combat to be under the auspices of the Court of Chivalry - Edward of York, Duke of Aumale, Constable, and Thomas Holland, Duke of Surrey, Acting Marshal, presiding.
It was widely felt at the time time that the King should have reconciled the pair - this was apparently the advice of the French King to his new son-in-law, while John of Gaunt was allegedly angry about his son having to fight over 'a thing of naught.' All very well, but easier said than done. Far from coming to terms, Bolingbroke chose to add fresh charges. He said that Mowbray was behind all the treasons of the last eighteen years, as well as pinching funds from the Calais garrison and being responsible for the death of the late Duke of Gloucester.
Arrangements were made for a combat outside Coventry on 16 September, and both parties sent off for mail-order armour for the occasion. Edward of York, as Constable, had the job of organising the Big Fight. If only sponsorship had been invented in those days, they could have made a fortune!
Friday, 18 April 2008
Edward, Duke of Aumale
Edward of York had by this time secured a list of titles and offices that must have given his clerks writers' cramp. Duke of Aumale, Earl of Rutland and Cork. Lord Constable, Lord Admiral, Warden of the Cinque Ports, Constable of the Tower and of Dover, Keeper of the Channel Islands, Keeper of Carisbrooke and Lord of Wight, Warden of the New Forest, Justice in Eyre South of Trent - it just goes on and on. He was also customarily referred to in grants and other official documents as 'the King's brother' - not 'the King's kinsman' as was correct.
In his Fears of Henry IV Ian Mortimer suggests that Richard II had chosen Edward as his eventual successor, and there is some evidence for this. Notably Bagot, in his various confessions, claimed that Richard had told him, Bagot, that this was what was in his mind, and that Edward was the most suitable candidate for the job.
What is beyond doubt is that in the period 1396-1399 Edward was extremely high in Richard's favour and was showered with offices, grants of land and responsibilities. In February 1398 he was even appointed Warden of the West March and Keeper of Carlisle, despite having no land or following in the area. It seems likely that this decision of the King was one of the final straws for the Neville and Percy families, who a few months later were to be united in their support for Bolingbroke.
In his Fears of Henry IV Ian Mortimer suggests that Richard II had chosen Edward as his eventual successor, and there is some evidence for this. Notably Bagot, in his various confessions, claimed that Richard had told him, Bagot, that this was what was in his mind, and that Edward was the most suitable candidate for the job.
What is beyond doubt is that in the period 1396-1399 Edward was extremely high in Richard's favour and was showered with offices, grants of land and responsibilities. In February 1398 he was even appointed Warden of the West March and Keeper of Carlisle, despite having no land or following in the area. It seems likely that this decision of the King was one of the final straws for the Neville and Percy families, who a few months later were to be united in their support for Bolingbroke.
Friday, 7 March 2008
Edward of York - the early years
Edward, destined to be the second Duke of York, was probably born in 1373. (As usual with medievals we don't know the exact date.) He's sometimes known to historians as Edward of Norwich, although there's absolutely no indication that he was born there or had any connection with it - I only mention this to avoid confusion.
Now I must admit - I like Edward. Despite the fact that he was one of the most double-dealing rogues in English history, a man who makes Thomas, Lord Stanley look like a model of consistency and loyal devotion. There's something about him - his sheer bloody cheek for one thing. Despite holding the medieval equivalent of the Guiness Book of Records title for number of times accused of treason without actually being executed he was never fazed. He just keeps popping up again, like one of those little plastic men that live in the bottom of a birdcage. There was no vat of crap, however deep, from which he could not emerge, grinning and smelling of roses.
He was knighted at the coronation of his cousin, Richard II, in 1377. Not bad going that, four years old and already a knight. In 1381 he was married to Beatriz of Portugal, and if his father had not made such a mess of the Portuguese expedition Edward might have become King of Portugal, because Beatriz was her father's heiress. Instead her father had second thoughts and married her to the son of his enemy, the King of Castile, and paid to send Edmund of Langley, his wife, son, and attendant unruly army back home. Collapse of England's Iberian policy - no wonder John of Gaunt was far from a happy bunny.
Back home Edward was created a Knight of the Garter in 1387 and in 1390 was made Earl of Rutland. At this point he is already becoming a close ally of his cousin the King, and by late 1391 he was Admiral of England - one of the 'big' offices of state. Much more was to come.
Now I must admit - I like Edward. Despite the fact that he was one of the most double-dealing rogues in English history, a man who makes Thomas, Lord Stanley look like a model of consistency and loyal devotion. There's something about him - his sheer bloody cheek for one thing. Despite holding the medieval equivalent of the Guiness Book of Records title for number of times accused of treason without actually being executed he was never fazed. He just keeps popping up again, like one of those little plastic men that live in the bottom of a birdcage. There was no vat of crap, however deep, from which he could not emerge, grinning and smelling of roses.
He was knighted at the coronation of his cousin, Richard II, in 1377. Not bad going that, four years old and already a knight. In 1381 he was married to Beatriz of Portugal, and if his father had not made such a mess of the Portuguese expedition Edward might have become King of Portugal, because Beatriz was her father's heiress. Instead her father had second thoughts and married her to the son of his enemy, the King of Castile, and paid to send Edmund of Langley, his wife, son, and attendant unruly army back home. Collapse of England's Iberian policy - no wonder John of Gaunt was far from a happy bunny.
Back home Edward was created a Knight of the Garter in 1387 and in 1390 was made Earl of Rutland. At this point he is already becoming a close ally of his cousin the King, and by late 1391 he was Admiral of England - one of the 'big' offices of state. Much more was to come.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)