Henry VI was not a wicked man - though I think the pressure group that's trying to have him made a saint is pushing it a bit far. (He could be vindictive, especially if he he felt he was the butt of personal criticism, and he seems to have had a fairly obsessive belief that people were trying to kill him.)
His main faults were connected with his ability to do the job of king. He was a splendid example of the failure of the hereditary principle, lacking both the political skills of his English grandfather and the military qualities of Henry V. He was, in fact, rather ordinary. Had he been a bricklayer it wouldn't have mattered that much - though he might have been thrown out of his gild for incompetence. If he'd been a country gentleman, he'd probably have ruined his family fortunes, but there'd have been no wider implications. As a sovereign, he was a disaster waiting to happen.
In fairness to Henry, it would have required an exceptional talent to steer England through the mid fifteenth century. Parliament was already growing reluctant to fund the French wars in the closing years of Henry V's reign, and the government's financial position went from bad to worse as Henry VI's reign continued. Henry V's conquest (which never amounted to more than a third of France at best) was only possible because the French had been divided among themselves. Once some sort of national unity and confidence was restored a reversal of the situation was inevitable. Henry VI's government inevitably got the blame for this, but it's hard to imagine a medieval sovereign who could have done much better - given the finances allowed.
The other main problem of the reign was political and social disorder. This was of course partly related to the French Question and the related financial mess, but nonetheless it needed sorting and Henry was hopelessly ill-equipped to solve the problem.
Morally speaking there was little to choose between the various political factions that arose. While some had better rhetoric than others, they were all violent and self-seeking in the last analysis. Henry was unable to rise above this battleground and act as an objective judge of the quarrels. Instead he backed his favourites, time and again, seemingly blind to the defects of these men or the hatred he was building against himself.
The 'opposition' eventually came to realise that there was no justice to be had from the King, and they had to turn to violence or be destroyed. York (probably the least bad and certainly the least incompetent of the great lords) was rejected and politically isolated because of Henry's (initially irrational) suspicion of him.
It was bound to end in tears - and it did.
Monday, 30 March 2009
Sunday, 29 March 2009
Monday, 23 March 2009
Richard, Duke of York - a bit more about the early years.
I spent some time yesterday leafing through Ralph Griffiths' amazing tome The Reign of Henry VI which I think holds the record for the thickest book in my collection. 968 pages in hardback, costing £25 as far back as 1981 - I must have been loaded in those days! (Well, it was before I got married.)
Anyway, it appears that after the death of Ralph Neville, York and Joan Beaufort lived in the King's Household. (The latter is perhaps the more surprising.) Also in the same household was the King's mother, Katherine of Valois. The Council ordered that all royal wards should live with the King, suitably attended at the King's expense. It must have been rather crowded.
After the death of Henry V, the following arrangements evolved, though they were not what had been ordered in Henry V's will. Bedford, Henry VI's elder surviving uncle, spent most of his time in France, and acted as Regent there. However, when he did come home to England he was pre-eminent there as well.
The second uncle, Humphrey of Gloucester, stayed mainly in England at the head of the Council, but his role as Protector was tightly circumscribed, much to his distaste. He spent much of his time falling out with his uncle, Bishop Beaufort - the pair of them seem to have cordially detested one another. This was the political element - Henry VI himself was under the care of the Duke of Exeter. (Thomas Beaufort, the youngest son of John of Gaunt and Katherine Swynford.) Exeter's role seems to have been fairly hands-off and mainly delegated to deputies.
One thing this government failed to do was keep order in England. I was surprised how much violence and feuding there was at this time - everyone seems to have been at it, not least John Talbot (later Earl of Shrewsbury) and Joan, Lady Abergavenny, who as important members of the nobility really ought to have known better.
In the era of Richard II domestic violence is often blamed on the absence of a decent war in France to keep the thugs busy. Obviously this argument (which I've accepted myself at times) is deeply flawed, as in the 1420s there was a fair old war going on in France and it clearly did not keep things quiet at home. Nor can Henry VI be blamed at this stage - he was a little boy, and not involved in government. It seems the English (and Welsh) were just a rowdy lot and enjoyed a bit of casual violence against their neighbours.
Anyway, it appears that after the death of Ralph Neville, York and Joan Beaufort lived in the King's Household. (The latter is perhaps the more surprising.) Also in the same household was the King's mother, Katherine of Valois. The Council ordered that all royal wards should live with the King, suitably attended at the King's expense. It must have been rather crowded.
After the death of Henry V, the following arrangements evolved, though they were not what had been ordered in Henry V's will. Bedford, Henry VI's elder surviving uncle, spent most of his time in France, and acted as Regent there. However, when he did come home to England he was pre-eminent there as well.
The second uncle, Humphrey of Gloucester, stayed mainly in England at the head of the Council, but his role as Protector was tightly circumscribed, much to his distaste. He spent much of his time falling out with his uncle, Bishop Beaufort - the pair of them seem to have cordially detested one another. This was the political element - Henry VI himself was under the care of the Duke of Exeter. (Thomas Beaufort, the youngest son of John of Gaunt and Katherine Swynford.) Exeter's role seems to have been fairly hands-off and mainly delegated to deputies.
One thing this government failed to do was keep order in England. I was surprised how much violence and feuding there was at this time - everyone seems to have been at it, not least John Talbot (later Earl of Shrewsbury) and Joan, Lady Abergavenny, who as important members of the nobility really ought to have known better.
In the era of Richard II domestic violence is often blamed on the absence of a decent war in France to keep the thugs busy. Obviously this argument (which I've accepted myself at times) is deeply flawed, as in the 1420s there was a fair old war going on in France and it clearly did not keep things quiet at home. Nor can Henry VI be blamed at this stage - he was a little boy, and not involved in government. It seems the English (and Welsh) were just a rowdy lot and enjoyed a bit of casual violence against their neighbours.
Saturday, 21 March 2009
Richard, Duke of York - childhood.
We don't know where young Richard was at the time of his father's execution, although the most likely place would be with his stepmother, Maud Clifford, up at Conisbrough Castle.
In October 1417 he passed into the care of Sir Robert Waterton, a Yorkshire knight with a long record of service to the House of Lancaster, and previous experience in looking after spare royal children. However in 1423 his wardship and marriage were purchased by Ralph Neville, Earl of Westmorland.
Neville was another long-standing supporter of the Lancastrian monarchy, defecting to Bolingbroke ahead of the crowd in 1399 despite lavish favour shown him by Richard II. His (second) wife was of course the famous Joan Beaufort, half-sister of Henry IV, and their hobby was arranging impressive marriages for their children. By October 1424 Richard was already betrothed to their youngest daughter, Cecily. Cecily was accounted a great beauty in later years, and may have inherited this from her grandmother, Katherine Sywnford.
Ralph Neville died a year later, but that did not prevent a marriage between Cecily and Richard in 1429. Cecily was 14 on 3 May 1429, Richard about 18. It's possible the marriage was consummated at this time, but no children were born for ten years. As the couple were definitely fertile it may be they spent little time together in the early part of their marriage.
Richard was knighted by the Duke of Bedford in 1426, and his next public outing was at Henry VI's coronation in late 1429.
The most useful textbook for Richard Duke of York is Duke Richard of York 1411-1460 by P.A. Johnson. This is highly recommended and particularly useful if you want the full SP on Richard's complex financial affairs. (They are far too complex to be covered in a blog, but also very interesting.)
In October 1417 he passed into the care of Sir Robert Waterton, a Yorkshire knight with a long record of service to the House of Lancaster, and previous experience in looking after spare royal children. However in 1423 his wardship and marriage were purchased by Ralph Neville, Earl of Westmorland.
Neville was another long-standing supporter of the Lancastrian monarchy, defecting to Bolingbroke ahead of the crowd in 1399 despite lavish favour shown him by Richard II. His (second) wife was of course the famous Joan Beaufort, half-sister of Henry IV, and their hobby was arranging impressive marriages for their children. By October 1424 Richard was already betrothed to their youngest daughter, Cecily. Cecily was accounted a great beauty in later years, and may have inherited this from her grandmother, Katherine Sywnford.
Ralph Neville died a year later, but that did not prevent a marriage between Cecily and Richard in 1429. Cecily was 14 on 3 May 1429, Richard about 18. It's possible the marriage was consummated at this time, but no children were born for ten years. As the couple were definitely fertile it may be they spent little time together in the early part of their marriage.
Richard was knighted by the Duke of Bedford in 1426, and his next public outing was at Henry VI's coronation in late 1429.
The most useful textbook for Richard Duke of York is Duke Richard of York 1411-1460 by P.A. Johnson. This is highly recommended and particularly useful if you want the full SP on Richard's complex financial affairs. (They are far too complex to be covered in a blog, but also very interesting.)
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
The Yorkist Ladies
We are now pretty much at the end of the first phase of the House of York (although, in my untidy way, I may well come back to this era from time to time) but it remains to say what happened to the surviving ladies of the family.
Constance of York, Lady Despenser, only briefly survived her brothers, dying on 28 or 29 November 1416, probably at Caversham. She was buried before the high altar of Reading Abbey, and later joined in her tomb by her great-granddaughter, Anne Beauchamp, daughter of Henry Duke of Warwick. Her son Richard had pre-deceased her, but she left two daughters, Isabelle Despenser and Alianore Holland.
Isabelle was already married (1411) to Richard Beauchamp of Abergavenny, created Earl of Worcester by Henry V. He died in 1421. They had one daughter, Elizabeth, who married Sir Edward Neville, Lord Bergavenny. Isabelle next married her first husband's cousin, Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick. By him she had a son, Henry, later Duke of Warwick, and a daughter, Anne Beauchamp, later wife of Warwick the Kingmaker and mother of Anne and Isabelle Neville. (Ring any bells, Ricardians?)
Alianore Holland claimed to be the legitimate daughter (and heiress) of Edmund, Earl of Kent. She and her husband (James, Lord Audley) made every attempt to prove this via the spiritual courts, but a petition of her Holland relatives to Parliament in 1431 had the effect of preventing her from inheriting lands and title, irrespective of the findings of the spiritual court. After Alianore's birth Kent married the Lady Lucia of Milan, and the 'other side' alleged Constance had been present at the wedding banquet and made no protest. By 1431 of course Constance was long dead, and scarely in a position to give evidence, one way or the other. However it is interesting to note that in this case the much vaunted power of the spiritual court in these matters was simply ignored as irrelevant.
James and Alianore had many children and their descendants are legion.
Joan Holland, Duchess of York
Joan (or Joanne) Holland, second wife of Edmund of Langley, married three further times, though she had no children by any husband. Her second husband was William, Lord Willoughby. She had a running quarrel with her stepson after Willoughby's death over items of property he claimed she had taken without right.
The third was Henry, Lord Scrope of Masham, who was involved in the Southampton Plot and consequently executed. Scrope was a wealthy man, and he and Joan seem to have been equally grasping. At one point Joan arranged to have herself 'abducted' decamping with various valuables, worth £5000. Scrope bargained with her in his will that she could choose £2000 worth of his belongings providing she let go any right she might have to one third or one half of his goods. Of course, as he died a traitor, his goods were all forfeited anyway!
Joan consoled herself with a new, younger husband, Henry Bromflete, (much) later created Lord Vesci. He outlived her by many years, Joan dying 12 April 1434, but Bromflete not until 1469.
Philippa Mohun, Duchess of York
It is sometimes stated, even in otherwise respectable tomes, that Philippa married Henry Bromflete, but both duchesses simply cannot have done and it appears Joan was the one who did.
Like Joan, Philippa had no children by any of her husbands. The first of these, Lord Fitzwalter, died as far back as 1386. It seems that Philippa may have been born circa 1363, but if you check out her parents' date of marriage even this seems a bit of a stretch unless she and her younger sister were late additions.
Anyway, we can assume she was about 52 at the time of Edward's death and as she lived on until 17 July 1431 she would be at least 68 at the time of her death at Carisbrooke, a very respectable age for the era. Thrice dowered, and with a decent share of York's goods left to her in his will, I think we can assume she had a comfortable retirement, maybe mostly in the Isle of Wight over which she enjoyed lordship. She has a fine tomb in Westminster Abbey.
Constance of York, Lady Despenser, only briefly survived her brothers, dying on 28 or 29 November 1416, probably at Caversham. She was buried before the high altar of Reading Abbey, and later joined in her tomb by her great-granddaughter, Anne Beauchamp, daughter of Henry Duke of Warwick. Her son Richard had pre-deceased her, but she left two daughters, Isabelle Despenser and Alianore Holland.
Isabelle was already married (1411) to Richard Beauchamp of Abergavenny, created Earl of Worcester by Henry V. He died in 1421. They had one daughter, Elizabeth, who married Sir Edward Neville, Lord Bergavenny. Isabelle next married her first husband's cousin, Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick. By him she had a son, Henry, later Duke of Warwick, and a daughter, Anne Beauchamp, later wife of Warwick the Kingmaker and mother of Anne and Isabelle Neville. (Ring any bells, Ricardians?)
Alianore Holland claimed to be the legitimate daughter (and heiress) of Edmund, Earl of Kent. She and her husband (James, Lord Audley) made every attempt to prove this via the spiritual courts, but a petition of her Holland relatives to Parliament in 1431 had the effect of preventing her from inheriting lands and title, irrespective of the findings of the spiritual court. After Alianore's birth Kent married the Lady Lucia of Milan, and the 'other side' alleged Constance had been present at the wedding banquet and made no protest. By 1431 of course Constance was long dead, and scarely in a position to give evidence, one way or the other. However it is interesting to note that in this case the much vaunted power of the spiritual court in these matters was simply ignored as irrelevant.
James and Alianore had many children and their descendants are legion.
Joan Holland, Duchess of York
Joan (or Joanne) Holland, second wife of Edmund of Langley, married three further times, though she had no children by any husband. Her second husband was William, Lord Willoughby. She had a running quarrel with her stepson after Willoughby's death over items of property he claimed she had taken without right.
The third was Henry, Lord Scrope of Masham, who was involved in the Southampton Plot and consequently executed. Scrope was a wealthy man, and he and Joan seem to have been equally grasping. At one point Joan arranged to have herself 'abducted' decamping with various valuables, worth £5000. Scrope bargained with her in his will that she could choose £2000 worth of his belongings providing she let go any right she might have to one third or one half of his goods. Of course, as he died a traitor, his goods were all forfeited anyway!
Joan consoled herself with a new, younger husband, Henry Bromflete, (much) later created Lord Vesci. He outlived her by many years, Joan dying 12 April 1434, but Bromflete not until 1469.
Philippa Mohun, Duchess of York
It is sometimes stated, even in otherwise respectable tomes, that Philippa married Henry Bromflete, but both duchesses simply cannot have done and it appears Joan was the one who did.
Like Joan, Philippa had no children by any of her husbands. The first of these, Lord Fitzwalter, died as far back as 1386. It seems that Philippa may have been born circa 1363, but if you check out her parents' date of marriage even this seems a bit of a stretch unless she and her younger sister were late additions.
Anyway, we can assume she was about 52 at the time of Edward's death and as she lived on until 17 July 1431 she would be at least 68 at the time of her death at Carisbrooke, a very respectable age for the era. Thrice dowered, and with a decent share of York's goods left to her in his will, I think we can assume she had a comfortable retirement, maybe mostly in the Isle of Wight over which she enjoyed lordship. She has a fine tomb in Westminster Abbey.
Edward Duke of York and Agincourt
No one seems to have suspected Edward, Duke of York, of involvement in his brother's plot. This demonstrates the political progess he had made by hitching himself to the bandwagon of Henry V. It would be wrong to suggest that he now enjoyed the sort of influence he had under Richard II - when for a time he was more or less the King's right hand as well as his 'brother' - but he did enjoy an element of favour and was not under continual suspicion.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, Edward had enfeoffed the bulk of his own lands to support the building of Fotheringhay College. As he really could not expect to suck on the Despenser teat much longer he may have hoped for some big financial dividend from the French wars. Alternatively he may have foreseen his own death. He made a will (not unusual in such circumstances, admittedly). This acknowledged his sins to the last full measure, and he admitted that he was 'bound to pray' for the soul of Richard II.
It is sometimes said it was Edward who suggested the English archers should carry sharpened stakes with which to protect themselves. It's impossible to be sure of this, but it is certain that he commanded the right hand 'battle' at Agincourt - Henry V commanded the centre, with Lord Camoys (husband of Hotspur's widow) on the left. Edward was one of the few English 'men of name' to be killed in the battle. It appears he was crushed by the weight of others falling on top of him - alternatively, it may all have been too much for him, bringing on a heart attack. (By this time he is described as 'fat', quite likely for a medieval prince in his forties.)
I find it wonderfully ironic that Edward should die fighting for the House of Lancaster (after all his efforts to get rid of Bolingbroke), and in a French war at that (given that in his early years he had been so strong a support of Richard II's peace policy).
The bodies of York and the other nobles killed were boiled so that their bones could be taken home to England. Edward was of course brought to Fotheringhay, where originally he lay in the chancel, under a flat slab, probably with a brass memorial over him. In Edward VI's reign the chancel became a ruin, and Elizabeth I had Edward and her other Yorkist ancestors transplanted into the former nave. New tombs were erected, and can still be seen there, next to the altar.
If you'd like to take a look at Edward's tomb this link will take you to a selection of excellent photos of Fotheringhay Church on the Worcestershire Branch of the Richard III Society. The Tomb is among them.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, Edward had enfeoffed the bulk of his own lands to support the building of Fotheringhay College. As he really could not expect to suck on the Despenser teat much longer he may have hoped for some big financial dividend from the French wars. Alternatively he may have foreseen his own death. He made a will (not unusual in such circumstances, admittedly). This acknowledged his sins to the last full measure, and he admitted that he was 'bound to pray' for the soul of Richard II.
It is sometimes said it was Edward who suggested the English archers should carry sharpened stakes with which to protect themselves. It's impossible to be sure of this, but it is certain that he commanded the right hand 'battle' at Agincourt - Henry V commanded the centre, with Lord Camoys (husband of Hotspur's widow) on the left. Edward was one of the few English 'men of name' to be killed in the battle. It appears he was crushed by the weight of others falling on top of him - alternatively, it may all have been too much for him, bringing on a heart attack. (By this time he is described as 'fat', quite likely for a medieval prince in his forties.)
I find it wonderfully ironic that Edward should die fighting for the House of Lancaster (after all his efforts to get rid of Bolingbroke), and in a French war at that (given that in his early years he had been so strong a support of Richard II's peace policy).
The bodies of York and the other nobles killed were boiled so that their bones could be taken home to England. Edward was of course brought to Fotheringhay, where originally he lay in the chancel, under a flat slab, probably with a brass memorial over him. In Edward VI's reign the chancel became a ruin, and Elizabeth I had Edward and her other Yorkist ancestors transplanted into the former nave. New tombs were erected, and can still be seen there, next to the altar.
If you'd like to take a look at Edward's tomb this link will take you to a selection of excellent photos of Fotheringhay Church on the Worcestershire Branch of the Richard III Society. The Tomb is among them.
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