I'm finally announcing the giveaway winners: Blodeuedd (international winner) and Pricilla (US winner). I've e-mailed both of you. Thanks to everyone who entered!
I'll have a post of substance coming up soon, I hope, but I don't think I've mentioned here that The Stolen Crown is now available on Kindle. So if you're a Kindle Karrier, check it out!
Friday, October 08, 2010
Friday, October 01, 2010
Elizabeth Woodville's Purported "Journal."
A very silly nonfiction book featuring Lady Jane Grey (among other things, it has her waltzing, playing the pianoforte, and being made to wear "hunting outfits . . . similar to those of jockeys") put me in mind of this equally silly "journal" of Elizabeth Woodville. This is not my invention, but was presented in Thomas Russell Potter's 1842 book, History and Antiquities of Charnwood Forest, as being an extract from an authentic document. According to David Baldwin in his biography of Elizabeth Woodville, a newspaper clipping pasted inside a 1914 book also reproduces this extract, with a few additions, and claims that the original "journal" could be found at Drummond Castle. Not surprisingly, Baldwin was unable to find such an original document. This "journal," with its portrayal of Elizabeth Woodville as a proper Victorian miss, therefore, is likely entirely bogus, but it makes for fun reading, and for far more pleasant reading than some of the modern slurs against Elizabeth Woodville.
Thursday Morninq (May 10, 1451).—Rose at four o'clock, and helped Katherine to milk the cows: Rachael, the other dairy-maid, having scalded one of her hands in a very sad manner last night. Made a poultice for Rachael, and gave Robin a penny to get her something comfortable from the apothecary's.
Six o'clock.—Breakfasted. The buttock of beef rather too much boiled, and the ale a little the stalest. Memorandum to tell the cook about the first fault, and to mend the second myself, by tapping a fresh barrel directly.
Seven o'clock.—Went out with the Lady Duchess, my mother, into the court-yard; fed five and thirty men and women; chid Roger very severely for expressing some dissatisfaction in attending us with the broken meat.
Eight o'clock.—Went into the paddock behind the house with my maiden Dorothy: caught Stump, the little black pony, myself, and rode a matter of six miles, without either saddle or bridle.
Ten o'clock.—Went to dinner. John Grey one of our visitants—a most comely youth—but what's that to me? A virtuous maiden should be entirely under the direction of her parents. John ate very little—stole a great many tender looks at me—said a woman never could be handsome, in his opinion, who was not good-tempered. I hope my temper is not intolerable; nobody finds fault with it but Roger, and Roger is the most disorderly serving man in our family. John Grey likes white teeth—my teeth are of a pretty good colour, I think, and my hair is as black as jet, though I say it—and John, if I mistake not, is of the same opinion.
Eleven o'clock.—Rose from table, the company all desirous of walking in the fields. John Grey would lift me over every stile, and twice he squeezed my hand with great vehemence. I cannot say I should have any aversion to John Grey: he plays prison-bars as well as any gentleman in the country, is remarkably dutiful to his parents, and never misses church of a Sunday.
Three o'clock.—Poor farmer Robinson's house burnt down by an accidental fire. John Grey proposed a subscription among the company, and gave a matter of no less than five pound himself to this benevolent intention. Mem. Never saw him look so comely as at that moment.
Four o'clock.—Went to prayers.
Six o'clock.—Fed the poultry and hogs.
Seven o'clock.—Supper at the table; delayed on account of farmer Robinson's fire and misfortune. The goose pie too much baked, and the loin of pork almost roasted to rags.
Nine o'clock.—The company almost all asleep. These late hours are very disagreeable. Said my prayers a second time, John Grey disturbing my thoughts too much the first. Fell asleep about ten, and dreamt that John had come to demand me of my father.
Thursday Morninq (May 10, 1451).—Rose at four o'clock, and helped Katherine to milk the cows: Rachael, the other dairy-maid, having scalded one of her hands in a very sad manner last night. Made a poultice for Rachael, and gave Robin a penny to get her something comfortable from the apothecary's.
Six o'clock.—Breakfasted. The buttock of beef rather too much boiled, and the ale a little the stalest. Memorandum to tell the cook about the first fault, and to mend the second myself, by tapping a fresh barrel directly.
Seven o'clock.—Went out with the Lady Duchess, my mother, into the court-yard; fed five and thirty men and women; chid Roger very severely for expressing some dissatisfaction in attending us with the broken meat.
Eight o'clock.—Went into the paddock behind the house with my maiden Dorothy: caught Stump, the little black pony, myself, and rode a matter of six miles, without either saddle or bridle.
Ten o'clock.—Went to dinner. John Grey one of our visitants—a most comely youth—but what's that to me? A virtuous maiden should be entirely under the direction of her parents. John ate very little—stole a great many tender looks at me—said a woman never could be handsome, in his opinion, who was not good-tempered. I hope my temper is not intolerable; nobody finds fault with it but Roger, and Roger is the most disorderly serving man in our family. John Grey likes white teeth—my teeth are of a pretty good colour, I think, and my hair is as black as jet, though I say it—and John, if I mistake not, is of the same opinion.
Eleven o'clock.—Rose from table, the company all desirous of walking in the fields. John Grey would lift me over every stile, and twice he squeezed my hand with great vehemence. I cannot say I should have any aversion to John Grey: he plays prison-bars as well as any gentleman in the country, is remarkably dutiful to his parents, and never misses church of a Sunday.
Three o'clock.—Poor farmer Robinson's house burnt down by an accidental fire. John Grey proposed a subscription among the company, and gave a matter of no less than five pound himself to this benevolent intention. Mem. Never saw him look so comely as at that moment.
Four o'clock.—Went to prayers.
Six o'clock.—Fed the poultry and hogs.
Seven o'clock.—Supper at the table; delayed on account of farmer Robinson's fire and misfortune. The goose pie too much baked, and the loin of pork almost roasted to rags.
Nine o'clock.—The company almost all asleep. These late hours are very disagreeable. Said my prayers a second time, John Grey disturbing my thoughts too much the first. Fell asleep about ten, and dreamt that John had come to demand me of my father.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Poetry Corner!
Ah, the dangers of Facebook. Just when I was about to toddle off to bed, I was encouraged by The History Police page to unleash my Bad Ricardian Inner Poet. It led to this:
There could be more here if you encouraged me . . .
The Ballad of the White Rose
Anne, my sweet, frail flower
Sacrificed for the sake of power
Forced to marry a cruel and vengeful youth,
You kept within your heart the shining truth.
To lie with him you did abhor,
For you were bound to the white boar.
Death freed you from Lancaster’s wretched grasp,
Only to place you in Clarence’s cruel clasp.
In a cook shop you languished,
While all thought you had vanished.
Yet as Romeo would not be parted from his love,
Richard could not forget his gentle dove.
All he sought was your fair hand,
He cared nothing for your land.
Through London’s streets he paced by night,
While you continued in your helpless plight.
Good Lady Fortune led him to your side,
And you at last became his bride.
To lie with Richard, oh, such bliss!
Nothing like Lancaster’s cold kiss.
But now the door we must close,
On the wedding night of our fair rose.
There could be more here if you encouraged me . . .
Sunday, September 26, 2010
The Captivity of Margaret of Anjou
A comment on Margaret’s Facebook page (thanks, Marilyn!) reminded me that I’ve never posted in detail about Margaret’s captivity following her defeat at Tewkesbury. So now I’m going to remedy this situation.
Edward IV left Tewkesbury on May 7, 1471, heading toward Worcester. On his way, he was told that Margaret had been found not far from there in a “poor religious place,” the identity of which is unknown, and would be at his commandment. Some authors, including Paul Murray Kendall and Clements Markham, claim that William Stanley captured Margaret, but they give no source for this information, and I have yet to find a primary source that mentions Stanley in connection with Margaret’s seizure.
Taken with Margaret were her daughter-in-law, Anne Neville, the Countess of Devon, and Katherine Vaux. Anne, of course, had been widowed at Tewkesbury, as had Katherine Vaux, whose husband William had fought and died for Margaret. The Countess of Devon was Marie, a bastard daughter of Charles, Count of Maine and thus a kinswoman of Margaret. Her husband, Thomas Courtenay, the Earl of Devon, had been executed after the battle of Towton; his brother John died at Tewkesbury. Ironically, the women were brought to Edward IV at Coventry, where Henry VI’s and Margaret’s court had been centered during the late 1450’s. It is not known whether the captives had first been taken to Tewkesbury to see their Lancastrian dead.
Edward’s army and the captives returned to London, where on May 21, 1471, they made a triumphant procession into the city, Margaret displayed in a chariot as a trophy of war. Probably Anne Neville was not with her at this point; as her sister Isabel was married to Edward IV’s brother the Duke of Clarence, Anne most likely had been sent to join her sister. Margaret was brought as a prisoner to the Tower, where her husband, Henry VI, also was a captive. That very night, Henry VI died. The official account claimed that Henry VI died of “pure displeasure and melancholy,” but few believed it, then or now. Whether Margaret was allowed to view her husband’s body before it was taken away for burial is unknown.
Now bereft of both her husband and of her only son, Margaret began what would prove to be four and a half years of captivity. According to records cited by Cora Scofield, Katherine Vaux remained with her, and two other women, Petronilla and Mary, waited on her. The ladies were not held for long in the Tower, for on January 8, 1472, John Paston reported to Mary Paston that Margaret had been removed from Windsor to Wallingford near Ewelme, the residence of Alice de la Pole, Duchess of Suffolk. Alice was the widow of William de la Pole, who had negotiated Margaret’s marriage to Henry VI and who been appointed by the king to bring his bride to England. Wallingford Castle was under the constableship of Alice’s son, John, who was married to Edward IV’s sister Elizabeth, and Margaret may have been given into the charge of Alice.
Cora Scofield has suggested that after January 1472, Margaret alternated between strongholds, sometimes in captivity at Wallingford, sometimes in captivity at the Tower. J. L. Laynesmith notes that payments to John, Lord Dudley, for Margaret’s “diets” exist for 1473 and 1474; Dudley was constable of the Tower, but held other offices as well. Laynesmith suggests that Margaret might have returned to the Tower in 1473, or perhaps was lodged someplace else in London under Dudley’s supervision. Sometime during this period, at the crown’s expense, a tailor provided Margaret with seven yards of a woolen cloth known as “puke,” while another person was paid for supplying Margaret six yards of black velvet for “frontlets, tippets, and other necessaries.”
Two records for 1475, Margaret’s last year of captivity, are of interest. Sometime in 1475, Margaret joined the London Skinners’ Fraternity of the Assumption of the Virgin: her membership is commemorated by a miniature (shown above) in the fraternity’s records. Katherine Vaux, Margaret’s faithful lady-in-waiting, also joined the fraternity that year and may be depicted alongside Margaret in the miniature. It may well be, then, that Margaret was residing in London at this time, and that her imprisonment was not rigorous. She certainly had the ability to petition for a papal dispensation, for on November 18, 1475, she was granted one. As transcribed by Peter D. Clarke, it reads as follows:
Margaret, formerly queen of England but now held captive in the hands of her enemies, [informs the pope] that since she is of a delicate and weak constitution and she inhabits a cold region where olive oil does not grow and eating other oil is harmful and abhorrent to her, she doubts whether she and even her household and other persons who sometimes happen to eat with her and may do so in the future can properly [nourish] their bodies and not endanger their persons without eating butter, eggs, and other dairy products. She requests that the pope grant to her and her current household and other person who happen to eat at her table that they may eat butter, eggs, and other dairy products on Lenten and other fasting days or that he leaves such food to their consciences. [approved under a special papal mandate by Antonio Parentucelli, bishop of Luni-Sarzana, regent of the penitentiary, and agreed by him that it be left to their consciences]
By the time Margaret’s dispensation was issued, her captivity was drawing near its end. Earlier in 1475, Edward IV and the French king, Louis XI, had entered into the Treaty of Picquigny; in the negotiations that followed, Louis XI agreed to ransom Margaret for 50,000 crowns (10,000 pounds). Louis’s motives were by no means altruistic; he would ultimately require Margaret to renounce all of her rights to her parents’ lands in Lorraine, Anjou, Bar, and Provence. Margaret, who died in 1482, would spend her last years in France as Louis’s pensioner.
On November 13, 1475, Edward IV authorized Thomas Thwaytes, who had been given custody of Margaret (probably pending the negotiations about her ransom), to deliver her to Thomas Montgomery, who in turn was to conduct her to King Louis in France. Scofield reports that Margaret was soon afterward taken to Sandwich and thence to France. She left behind the graves of those whose rights she had struggled for so long to protect: her husband, then buried at Chertsey Abbey (he was later moved to Windsor), and her son, buried at Tewkesbury Abbey.
On January 22, 1476, at Rouen, Margaret renounced all of the rights she might have in England and was formally handed over to French officials, thereby severing her ties with England. Nearly thirty-one years before, she had entered Rouen in grand state as England’s new queen.
Sources:
John Bruce, ed., Historie of the Arrivall of Edward IV in England. Camden Society, 1838.
Peter D. Clarke. “New evidence of noble and gentry piety in fifteenth-century England and Wales.” Journal of Medieval History 34 (2008), pp. 23-35.
Keith Dockray, ed. Henry VI, Margaret of Anjou and the Wars of the Roses: A Source Book. Gloucestershire: Sutton Publishing, 2000.
Diana E. S. Dunn, ‘Margaret (1430–1482)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford University Press, 2004 [http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/18049, accessed 25 Sept 2010].
J. C. Giles, ed., The Chronicles of the White Rose of York (includes Warkworth’s Chronicle).
R. A. Griffiths, The Reign of King Henry VI. Gloucestershire: Sutton, 2004 (paperback edition).
J. L. Laynesmith, The Last Medieval Queens. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005 (paperback edition).
Nicholas Pronay and John Cox, eds., The Crowland Chronicle Continuations: 1459–1486. London: Richard III and Yorkist History Trust, 1986.
Charles Ross, Edward IV. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1997.
Cora Scofield, The Life and Reign of Edward IV. London: Longmans, Green and Co., 1923 (2 volumes).
Thursday, September 23, 2010
The Importance of Context
Thanks to the Internet, more primary sources are available to us historical novelists than ever before. As the availability of such sources grows, however, so does another danger: that the sources will be interpreted out of context. Karen Clark over at A Neville Feast has blogged about an excellent example of this: a letter by the Earl of Warwick in which his use of the phrase "destruction of some of my kinsmen" in official correspondence in reference to the deaths of his father and his brother and other relations has been treated by a novelist as proof of his heartlessness. I myself have ranted a number of times about Henry VI's supposed "Holy Ghost" remark, reported as hearsay by an ambassador who himself doubted the story's veracity, being quoted without the qualifier the ambassador attached to it as proof positive that Edward of Lancaster was illegitimate.
One sees popular historians as well as historical novelists making this mistake with original source material. One recent example I came across in my research for my work in progress was this one by Alison Weir, who in her book The Children of Henry VIII refers to John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, as "arguably the most evil statesman to govern England during the sixteenth century." As partial proof as Northumberland's villainy, Weir cites a letter from the duke and writes:
Read in context, however, the letter doesn't really bear out this assessment. Here is the actual letter, taken from Patrick Fraser Tytler's 1839 book, England Under the Reigns of Edward VI and Mary . . . Illustrated in a Series of Original Letters, Volume 2:
First, as other historians have recognized, based on other correspondence of Northumberland's at this time, the letter refers not to the death of Northumberland's daughter, but to the death of his daughter-in-law, Anne, married to his son Ambrose Dudley. ("Daughter" at the time was commonly used in situations where we would say "daughter-in-law.") Anne, a widow when she married Ambrose, was not a little girl, but was old enough to have borne her previous husband a son, who survived her.
Second, like Warwick in the previous century, Northumberland was not writing to report his personal troubles; as he clearly states, he was writing in response to concerns that his daughter-in-law had died of an infectious disease, which would make Northumberland's presence at court undesirable. Whatever Northumberland's own feelings about his daughter-in-law's death were, this business letter was not the place to express them. (One could, however, read the phrase "This [is] as much as I am able to express" to mean that he did not want to dwell further on the painful details of his daughter-in-law's death, though it could also be read to state that he knew no more details.)
Third, when Northumberland wrote this letter in 1552, he had fathered thirteen children, only seven of whom were still living at that date. Of those children who had predeceased him, the eldest son, Henry, had died in 1544 during the siege of Boulogne; the others had died during childhood. Northumberland, like so many other parents of the age, would have been all too accustomed to the early death of his offspring and their spouses. Facing the death of yet another young person, he might have thought it futile to rage against fate or express grief. The fact that he did not bewail the loss of his daughter-in-law in this letter, at any rate, does not mean he felt no sorrow. As Tytler wrote in 1839, showing more appreciation of human psychology than Weir would over 150 years later, "It is strange, that not a word of sorrow escapes the lips of [Northumberland]; and yet it would be hard to blame him, for the deepest is often the stillest grief."
Weir's using this single letter as evidence of Northumberland's lack of parental feeling is especially troublesome because, as Eric Ives notes in his recent book on Lady Jane Grey, evidence from Northumberland's other correspondence suggests that Northumberland was an affectionate father. Probably in 1552, he wrote to his eldest son, John, "Well enough you must understand that I know you cannot live under great charges. And therefore you should not hide from me your debts whatsoever they be, for I would be loathe but you should keep your credit still with all men. And therefore send word in any wise of the whole sum of your debts, for I and your mother will forthwith see them paid." In a letter to Cecil on January 3, 1553, when he was ill and probably depressed, he wrote, "What should I wish any longer this life, that seeth such frailty in it? Surely, but for a few children which God hath sent me, which also helpeth to pluck me on my knees, I have no great cause to desire to tarry much longer here." Moreover, at the lowest point of his life, when he stood condemned to die, he was anxious to save his children from his impending fate: he particularly requested "that her majestie wilbe gratyous to my chillder, which may hereafter do hir grace gode service, concydering that they went by my commaundement who am their father, and not of their owne free willes."
Letters from historical figures are a godsend to both historians and historical novelists alike. But if one is going to distort their meaning or read them out of context, one is really better off not using them at all.
Sources:
Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, Edward VI: 1547-1553, Revised Edition (1992).
Eric Ives, Lady Jane Grey: A Tudor Mystery.
David Loades, John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland: 1504-1553.
John Gough Nichols, ed., The Chronicle of Queen Jane and of Two Years of Queen Mary. Available on Google Books.
Patrick Fraser Tytler, England Under the Reigns of Edward VI and Mary . . . Illustrated in a Series of Original Letters. Available on Google Books.
One sees popular historians as well as historical novelists making this mistake with original source material. One recent example I came across in my research for my work in progress was this one by Alison Weir, who in her book The Children of Henry VIII refers to John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, as "arguably the most evil statesman to govern England during the sixteenth century." As partial proof as Northumberland's villainy, Weir cites a letter from the duke and writes:
He regarded the death of his seven-year-old daughter Temperance as more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, explaining to William Cecil with terrifying heartlessness that it would prevent him from attending council meetings for a few days in case he was infectious. In his letter, he cold-bloodedly described the child's body--"between the shoulders it was very black". There was no evidence of any grief.
Read in context, however, the letter doesn't really bear out this assessment. Here is the actual letter, taken from Patrick Fraser Tytler's 1839 book, England Under the Reigns of Edward VI and Mary . . . Illustrated in a Series of Original Letters, Volume 2:
NORTHUMBERLAND TO THE LORD CHAMBERLAIN AND SIR. WM. CECIL.
Orig. St. P. Off. Domestic. June 2, 1552. "After my most hearty commendations. — Whereas I perceive by your letter of this instant, that, except the death of my daughter might seem dangerous and infectious, the King's Majesty's pleasure is that neither I should absent myself nor stay my son; whereupon I have thought good to signify unto you what moveth me to suspect infection in the disease whereof my daughter died. First, the night before she died, she was as merry as any child could be, and sickened about three in the morning, and was in a sweat, and within a while after she had a desire to the stool; and the indiscreet woman that attended upon her let her rise, and after that, she fell to swooning, and then, with such things as they ministered to her, brought her again to remembrance, and so she seemed for a time to be meetly well revived, and so continued till it was noon, and still in a great sweating; and about twelve of the clock she began to alter again, and so in continual pangs and fits till six of the clock, at what time she left this life. And this morning she was looked upon, and between the shoulders it was very black, and also upon the one side of her cheek; which thing, with the suddenty, and also [that] she could brook nothing that was ministered to her from the beginning, moveth me to think that either it must be the sweat or worse, for she had the measles a month or five weeks before, and very well recovered, but a certain hoarseness and a cough remained with her still. This [is] as much as I am able to express, and even thus it was: wherefore I think it not my duty to presume to make my repair to his Majesty's presence till further be seen what may ensue of it; neither my son, nor none that is in my house, except his Majesty, shall command the contrary, or that your Lordships' wisdom shall think it without peril, being no more nor no less than before is declared; requiring your Lordships' farther answer hereupon, and accordingly I will [endeavour] myself.
Thus I commit your good Lordships to the tuition of the Almighty.
From Oteforde in Kent, this 2d of June.
First, as other historians have recognized, based on other correspondence of Northumberland's at this time, the letter refers not to the death of Northumberland's daughter, but to the death of his daughter-in-law, Anne, married to his son Ambrose Dudley. ("Daughter" at the time was commonly used in situations where we would say "daughter-in-law.") Anne, a widow when she married Ambrose, was not a little girl, but was old enough to have borne her previous husband a son, who survived her.
Second, like Warwick in the previous century, Northumberland was not writing to report his personal troubles; as he clearly states, he was writing in response to concerns that his daughter-in-law had died of an infectious disease, which would make Northumberland's presence at court undesirable. Whatever Northumberland's own feelings about his daughter-in-law's death were, this business letter was not the place to express them. (One could, however, read the phrase "This [is] as much as I am able to express" to mean that he did not want to dwell further on the painful details of his daughter-in-law's death, though it could also be read to state that he knew no more details.)
Third, when Northumberland wrote this letter in 1552, he had fathered thirteen children, only seven of whom were still living at that date. Of those children who had predeceased him, the eldest son, Henry, had died in 1544 during the siege of Boulogne; the others had died during childhood. Northumberland, like so many other parents of the age, would have been all too accustomed to the early death of his offspring and their spouses. Facing the death of yet another young person, he might have thought it futile to rage against fate or express grief. The fact that he did not bewail the loss of his daughter-in-law in this letter, at any rate, does not mean he felt no sorrow. As Tytler wrote in 1839, showing more appreciation of human psychology than Weir would over 150 years later, "It is strange, that not a word of sorrow escapes the lips of [Northumberland]; and yet it would be hard to blame him, for the deepest is often the stillest grief."
Weir's using this single letter as evidence of Northumberland's lack of parental feeling is especially troublesome because, as Eric Ives notes in his recent book on Lady Jane Grey, evidence from Northumberland's other correspondence suggests that Northumberland was an affectionate father. Probably in 1552, he wrote to his eldest son, John, "Well enough you must understand that I know you cannot live under great charges. And therefore you should not hide from me your debts whatsoever they be, for I would be loathe but you should keep your credit still with all men. And therefore send word in any wise of the whole sum of your debts, for I and your mother will forthwith see them paid." In a letter to Cecil on January 3, 1553, when he was ill and probably depressed, he wrote, "What should I wish any longer this life, that seeth such frailty in it? Surely, but for a few children which God hath sent me, which also helpeth to pluck me on my knees, I have no great cause to desire to tarry much longer here." Moreover, at the lowest point of his life, when he stood condemned to die, he was anxious to save his children from his impending fate: he particularly requested "that her majestie wilbe gratyous to my chillder, which may hereafter do hir grace gode service, concydering that they went by my commaundement who am their father, and not of their owne free willes."
Letters from historical figures are a godsend to both historians and historical novelists alike. But if one is going to distort their meaning or read them out of context, one is really better off not using them at all.
Sources:
Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, Edward VI: 1547-1553, Revised Edition (1992).
Eric Ives, Lady Jane Grey: A Tudor Mystery.
David Loades, John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland: 1504-1553.
John Gough Nichols, ed., The Chronicle of Queen Jane and of Two Years of Queen Mary. Available on Google Books.
Patrick Fraser Tytler, England Under the Reigns of Edward VI and Mary . . . Illustrated in a Series of Original Letters. Available on Google Books.
Monday, September 20, 2010
The Last Will of Anne Stanhope, Duchess of Somerset
Anne Stanhope, Duchess of Somerset, will be making an appearance in my work in progress. While doing research yesterday, I stumbled upon her will, printed by John G. Nichols in an 1845 issue of the Gentleman's Magazine. I'll probably be posting about her more later, as she is a fascinating woman, who was the subject of a number of literary dedications and whose own daughters were highly educated. The portrayal of her in the recent television series "The Tudors" as an adulteress is entirely fanciful. From 1537 to 1550, she was busy bearing her husband, Edward Seymour, the Duke of Somerset, ten children. Edward Seymour was, of course, Jane Seymour's brother and the uncle of King Edward VI.
For reasons that are beyond the scope of this post, Anne's husband was executed in 1552. The duchess herself was imprisoned in the Tower, where she remained until Mary's accession in 1553. As a prisoner, her diet included mutton, beef, veal, capon, and larks, prepared for her by her own cook; she also enjoyed the company of two gentlewomen.
In 1558, Anne married her second husband, Francis Newdegate, who had been her husband's steward. He died in 1582, leaving her all of his estate. Famously, Anne's son Edward, Earl of Hertford, married Lady Jane Grey's younger sister Katherine, an escapade that landed both Hertford and Katherine Grey in the Tower. The imprisoned couple, who had conceived one son before their imprisonment, managed to conceive a second one during their incarceration. Both sons were eventually placed in Anne's care.
Born in about 1510, Anne lived to be quite an old lady, dying on April 16, 1587. She was survived by four of her children, including the no-longer-incarcerated Earl of Hertford, who had remarried following the death of Katherine Grey. Her will, which follows, indicates that for all the vicissitudes of the duchess's life, she did not die poor. (Do note the rope of a thousand pearls.)
[Burghley Papers, MS. Lansd. 50, art. 90.] In the name of God. Amen. The xiiij day of Julie, in the yeare of our Lord God 1586. I Anne by the goodness of God Duchess of Somerset, considering the many yeres wherwith God hath blessed me, and the sicknes wherwith I am visited, doe in perfect mynde and remembrance make this my last will and testament in manner and forme following. First, I thank God in Christ Jesus that he hath long agoe called me to the knowledge and love of the Gospell, and ever since kept me therein to an assured hope of life everlasting, thorough faith in the righteousnes of Jesus Christ alone. In which faith I recomend my bodie to the dust whence it was taken, and my soule into the most mercifull handes of him that redemed it, to be kept of him till it shalbe reunited to the bodie in that glorious daye of the resurrection of all flesh. Secondly, I geve thanks to God allso for the temporall blessings of my landes, goodes, and chatells, which I dispose to my childeren, servaunts, the poore, and others, as followeth.
First, I geve to my sonne the Earle of Hertford, and his heyres for ever, all my mansion howse situate in Chanon rowe, within Westminster, in the Countie of Middlesex, with the howsholde and furniture therof. Item, I geve him a glasse of cristall dressed with gould, a basen and ewer all gilt plaine, a payr of gilt pottes, a payer of flagons newe bought, iij gilt trenchers, a spone of gould not foulded, iiij other spones gilt antique fashion. Item, I geve him ij of the fayrest gilt bowles with covers, a salt of cristall, and my beast cheane of greate pearle with long beades of goulde betwene, a fayer juel of diamondes, and a greate pearle worth by estimation about xxx1.
Item, I geve to his wife my daughter of Hertford a fayer tablet to weare with antique work of one syde and a row of diamondes on the other syde. Item, I geve her a clock of gould work worth about xxx1.
Item, I geve to my sonne the Lord Henry Seymour xiij hundred powndes of lawfull English monie, over and above the vij hundred I have allreadie geven him towards the payment of his debts. Item, I geve him a fayer jewel of an egret with divers stones. Item, I geve him ij bowles of silver and gilt, with ewers, and a basen and ewer of sylver.
Item, I geve to my daughter the Ladie Marie Rogers all my lease and tearme of yeres in the manner and ferme of Ashford, in the countie of Middlesex, which I have fernied of (blank). Item, I geve her a harkenet of pearle, in number about c.c.c. two ropes of perle, in number about ij thousand, a lace with small pearle, a jewel of jacinth rownd with small pearle, a cople of bowles with covers, a spice box of sylver with the furniture of it, a ladle sylver and gilt, and my saddel embroydered with black velvet.
Item, I geve to my daughter the Ladie Elizabeth Knightley a greate cheane of pearle with true-loves, a jewel of a balist, ij great standing cuppes sylver and gilte, a jugge of stone fayer dressed with sylver and gilt, and a skellet of sylver.
Item, I geve to my sonne Beuchamp [a grandson] ij hundred powndes of lawfull English monie and a cheane of pearle and gould with friers' knottes, the gould by estimation worth about Lxxx1.
Item, I geve to my Sonne Thomas Seymour [another grandson] a hundred powndes of lawful English monie, and a cheane worth about Lxl.
Item, I geve to my sonne Beuchampes wife a booke of gould kept in a grene purse, and a payer of bracelets without stones.
Item, I geve to my daughter Maries husband a clieane of gould black.
Item, I geve to my daughter Elizabethes husband one of my ringes that hath the best diamonds.
Item, I geve to my goddaughter Anne Knightley five hundred powndes of lawful English monie and a rope of small pearle, in number about a thousand.
Item, I geve to my Lord Treasurer a jugge of cristall with a cover dressed with sylver and gilt, and a ring with an emerald.
Item, I geve to my nephew John Stanhope the fortie powndes he oweth me.
Item, I geve to my nephew Michael Stanhope a piller of gould with viii diamondes.
Item, all the reast of my plate not geven before I geve to my fower childeren, equally to be devided betwene them. Item, I geve a cofer of sheetes and pillowberes and a case standard with fine white naperie to my two daughters, equally to be devided. Item, I geve to the same my ij daughters my apparell, equally allso to be devided.
Item, I geve to my servant Win. Dickinson tenne powndes of lawfull English money, to be paide him for an annuitie or pension by myne executor during his life. Item, I geve to Richard Saunders, my servant, five powndes of lyke lawfull English monie, to be paide him by myne executor for a yearly pension during his life. Item, I geve to Richard Lanckeshire, John Trodde, and mother Gardener, to every one of them a yerely pension of 40s. to be payde them by myne executor during there lives. Item, I geve to all the rest of my gentilmen, yeomen, and gromes, and others in ordinarie, a yeres wages.
Item, I geve to Margaret Ashhurst all my wearing linnen, which is in her keeping, and a new black satten gowne. Item, I geve to Anne Jones 40s. Item, I geve to Mrs. Ansley a gowne of wrought velvet furred thorough with cunnie. Item, I geve to Jane Seymour 100l of lawfull English mony.
Item, I geve to godly and poor students in the ij Universites xx1, x1 to the one and x1 to the other.
Item, I geve to the poor prisoners in London xx markes, willing that these ij legacies be distributed by ij godly preachers.
The rest of all my landes, tenements, rentes, plate, Jewells, with other goodes, leases, chattles, horses, mares, geldinges, oxen, shepe, and all other stock and store, together with all mony, debts, now or hereafter dew, by bonde, covenant, or otherwise, my debts and legacies being payd, I geve to my sonne the Earle of Hertford, whom I make and appoint my sole executor, to see my debts payd and my legacies faithfully performed, and my funeralls discharged according to this my last will and testament. In witness whereof, to this my last will and testament, I have subscribed my name with myne own hande, and putte my seale this daye and yere abovesayd.
Signed, Anne Somerset.
Postscriptum. Memorandum, that there is no materiall enterlyning, but the gown geven to Mrs. Ashhurst, these wordes, " lawfull English monie," and abowt the recitall of the goodes,tenements, leases, &c. Witnesses. Tho. Penney. Tho. Muffet. W. Clarke.
Endorsed. This was acknowledged and avowed by her Grace the Duchess of Somerset to be her last will and testament, we witnesses whose names are underwritten.
Tho. Penney. Tho. Muffet. W. Charke.
References:
John G. Nichols, "Anne, Duchess of Somerset." Gentleman's Magazine, 1845. (Available on Google Books)
Retha M. Warnicke, "Inventing the Wicked Women of Tudor England: Alice More, Anne Boleyn, and Anne Stanhope." Quidditas: Journal of the Rocky Mountain Medieval and Renaissance Association, 1999.
Retha M. Warnicke, ‘Seymour, Anne, duchess of Somerset (c.1510–1587)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, online edn, Oxford University Press, Sept 2004 [http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/68053, accessed 20 Sept 2010]
Photograph of Anne's tomb in Westminster Abbey taken by Bernard Gagnon; obtained through Wikimedia Commons.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
New in My Nonfiction Library
I am in the very pleasant position of having too much to read, for over the past few days, I've added several new nonfiction books to my collection. So, taking a cue from Kathryn's post, I thought I would mention some of them.
First and foremost is Michael Hicks' The Wars of the Roses. I was reading this last night, and from what I've seen so far, it's excellent--a balanced, well-researched account of the wars and the men and women involved in the conflict. Hicks has his share of detractors, mainly those unhappy about his unfavorable portrayal of Richard III, but I would recommend this book even to those readers, as no one, including Henry VII, is whitewashed here from what I've seen from reading selected portions of it.
Next, I got a copy of Elizabeth Norton's new book, Margaret Beaufort: Mother of the Tudor Dynasty. On a skim, I've seen some glitches (such as Norton's having Margaret of Anjou present at the Battle of Wakefield), but on the whole this seems to be a decent, if not ground-breaking, introduction to Margaret Beaufort's life. I like the fact that Norton included an appendix of Margaret's letters.
I also received a copy of Desmond Seward's The Last White Rose, about the rebellions that dogged Henry VII and Henry VIII, but I haven't had a chance to give it even a skim.
Moving away from England to France for the moment, I've received a review copy of Tracy Adams' The Life and Afterlife of Isabeau of Bavaria, which explores the myths that have grown up around Isabeau of Bavaria, wife to Charles VI of France. I'm particularly interested in reading this book because of the parallels between Isabeau and Margaret of Anjou, who married Isabeau's grandson Henry VI: both were married to kings who went mad, thrusting their queens into roles of power, and both have been treated badly by history.
I can't forget my Kindle! I've downloaded Kate Williams' Becoming Queen Victoria, which is about not only the young Victoria but about Princess Charlotte, whose tragic death paved the way for Victoria to become queen. I also have 1536: The Year That Changed Henry VIII by Suzannah Lipscomb on my Kindle.
Finally, I'm anticipating receiving John Goodall's God's House at Ewelme, about the almshouse that was established in 1437 by William de la Pole and his wife Alice Chaucer, then the Earl and Countess of Suffolk, and that still exists today, administered by the Ewelme Trust. The book, which I checked out from the library a while back but, alas, had to return, has a great deal of information about the history of the foundation, so I'm looking forward to re-reading it and discussing it on this blog.
Despite all of these books, I went to Borders yesterday and felt unfulfilled when I walked out without buying any new ones. It's a disease--what else can I say?
First and foremost is Michael Hicks' The Wars of the Roses. I was reading this last night, and from what I've seen so far, it's excellent--a balanced, well-researched account of the wars and the men and women involved in the conflict. Hicks has his share of detractors, mainly those unhappy about his unfavorable portrayal of Richard III, but I would recommend this book even to those readers, as no one, including Henry VII, is whitewashed here from what I've seen from reading selected portions of it.
Next, I got a copy of Elizabeth Norton's new book, Margaret Beaufort: Mother of the Tudor Dynasty. On a skim, I've seen some glitches (such as Norton's having Margaret of Anjou present at the Battle of Wakefield), but on the whole this seems to be a decent, if not ground-breaking, introduction to Margaret Beaufort's life. I like the fact that Norton included an appendix of Margaret's letters.
I also received a copy of Desmond Seward's The Last White Rose, about the rebellions that dogged Henry VII and Henry VIII, but I haven't had a chance to give it even a skim.
Moving away from England to France for the moment, I've received a review copy of Tracy Adams' The Life and Afterlife of Isabeau of Bavaria, which explores the myths that have grown up around Isabeau of Bavaria, wife to Charles VI of France. I'm particularly interested in reading this book because of the parallels between Isabeau and Margaret of Anjou, who married Isabeau's grandson Henry VI: both were married to kings who went mad, thrusting their queens into roles of power, and both have been treated badly by history.
I can't forget my Kindle! I've downloaded Kate Williams' Becoming Queen Victoria, which is about not only the young Victoria but about Princess Charlotte, whose tragic death paved the way for Victoria to become queen. I also have 1536: The Year That Changed Henry VIII by Suzannah Lipscomb on my Kindle.
Finally, I'm anticipating receiving John Goodall's God's House at Ewelme, about the almshouse that was established in 1437 by William de la Pole and his wife Alice Chaucer, then the Earl and Countess of Suffolk, and that still exists today, administered by the Ewelme Trust. The book, which I checked out from the library a while back but, alas, had to return, has a great deal of information about the history of the foundation, so I'm looking forward to re-reading it and discussing it on this blog.
Despite all of these books, I went to Borders yesterday and felt unfulfilled when I walked out without buying any new ones. It's a disease--what else can I say?
Friday, September 10, 2010
Giveaway, New Website Design, and Kindling!
NOTE: I've rethought my giveaway. Now, the two winners (one outside of the United States) will have his or her choice of any of my published books!
I'm a tad busy at the moment, but I wanted to point you to my newly designed website, courtesy of Avalon Graphics! Stop by and admire the new look!
In honor of my pretty new website, I'm giving away two copies of any of my published novels--with each winner getting to choose the book he or she prefers! One copy will be reserved for a winner outside of the United States. Just leave a comment on the blog or on the corresponding Facebook page and you'll be entered. The giveaway closes on September 17.
Finally, when Amazon brought out the wireless-only Kindle, I capitulated and bought one. I have to say I'm quite enjoying it. It's perfect for reading independently published books that I otherwise might not take a chance on buying, and it's also great for reading new books that I can't quite talk myself into buying in hardback but don't want to wait for the paperback or for a library copy. I'm currently reading Becoming Queen Victoria by Kate Williams on my Kindle. I'm also enjoying downloading some of the many older books that are free for Kindle users. (By the way, I'm hoping The Stolen Crown will soon be made available on Kindle; both The Traitor's Wife and Hugh and Bess are available in Kindle versions.)
Without further ado, here are seven things I love about my new Kindle:
1. Great big type.
2. Holding a Kindle and a dog on one’s lap is easier than holding a book and a dog on one’s lap. I could even fit a cat up there too.
3. No matter how dopey the book I’m reading is, I somehow look more intelligent when I’m reading it on my Kindle.
4. I can walk past the Nook lady at Barnes and Noble and look smug.
5. For every book I buy on the Kindle, I am justified in buying another book to take up residence on my bookshelf.
6. Three words: New Kindle smell.
7. My daughter doesn’t have one.
I'm a tad busy at the moment, but I wanted to point you to my newly designed website, courtesy of Avalon Graphics! Stop by and admire the new look!
In honor of my pretty new website, I'm giving away two copies of any of my published novels--with each winner getting to choose the book he or she prefers! One copy will be reserved for a winner outside of the United States. Just leave a comment on the blog or on the corresponding Facebook page and you'll be entered. The giveaway closes on September 17.
Finally, when Amazon brought out the wireless-only Kindle, I capitulated and bought one. I have to say I'm quite enjoying it. It's perfect for reading independently published books that I otherwise might not take a chance on buying, and it's also great for reading new books that I can't quite talk myself into buying in hardback but don't want to wait for the paperback or for a library copy. I'm currently reading Becoming Queen Victoria by Kate Williams on my Kindle. I'm also enjoying downloading some of the many older books that are free for Kindle users. (By the way, I'm hoping The Stolen Crown will soon be made available on Kindle; both The Traitor's Wife and Hugh and Bess are available in Kindle versions.)
Without further ado, here are seven things I love about my new Kindle:
1. Great big type.
2. Holding a Kindle and a dog on one’s lap is easier than holding a book and a dog on one’s lap. I could even fit a cat up there too.
3. No matter how dopey the book I’m reading is, I somehow look more intelligent when I’m reading it on my Kindle.
4. I can walk past the Nook lady at Barnes and Noble and look smug.
5. For every book I buy on the Kindle, I am justified in buying another book to take up residence on my bookshelf.
6. Three words: New Kindle smell.
7. My daughter doesn’t have one.
Saturday, September 04, 2010
The Singing, Laughing Henry VI at St. Albans?
Following the Lancastrian victory on February 17, 1461, at the second Battle of St. Albans, Margaret of Anjou was reunited with her husband, Henry VI, who had been in Yorkist hands and who had accompanied the Earl of Warwick to the encounter with Margaret's forces.
But what was Henry VI doing during the battle? Paul Murray Kendall, for one, leaves the matter in no doubt: "King Henry, whom Warwick had taken with him, was found under a tree laughing and talking to himself" (Kendall, Richard the Third). This portrait, implying a Henry who was clearly demented, has a great deal of appeal for historians like Kendall who are hostile toward Margaret; it shows that Margaret was willing to place England in the hands of a madman to secure her own power.
Contemporary descriptions of the battle, however, are by no means united in their description of Henry's behavior during the battle--indeed, not a single contemporary English source that I have seen describes Henry as laughing and talking to himself during the battle. Here are all of the contemporary or near-contemporary accounts that I know of:
An English Chronicle, edited by John Silvester Davies:
Gregory's Chronicle:
Registrum Abbatiae Johannis Whethamstede (thanks to Lesley Boatright for the translation out of the Latin):
The Crowland Chronicle Continuations:
Annales Rerum Anglicarum (from English Historical Documents, Vol. IV, ed. by A. R. Myers)
John Benet, from The Wars of the Roses, ed. by Elizabeth Hallam:
Calendar of State Papers, Milan, George Neville writing to Francesco Coppino, Bishop of Terni, Apostolic Legate in Flanders, April 7, 1461:
Calendar of State Papers, Venice, George Nevill, Bishop of Exeter, Chancellor of England, to Francesco Coppini, Bishop of Teramo, in Flanders, April 7, 1461:
The Great Chronicle of London
Calendar of State Papers, Milan, March 9, 1461, Prospero di Camulio, Milanese Ambassador to the Court of France, etc., to Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan.
Jehan de Waurin, Recueil des Chroniques, from English history illustrated from original sources ... 1399-1485, ed. by F. Hermia Durham.
So what do we have here? None of the English writers describes Henry as laughing and singing under a tree or as otherwise acting demented. The English Chronicle has Henry, seeing his Yorkist captors scattered, going to his wife. Gregory has Henry deserting to Margaret in the middle of the battle. Whethamsted, the abbot of St. Albans, who played host to Henry after the battle and would have been well aware of his mental state at the time, has Henry being given advice by Thomas Hoo before eventually being escorted to his wife. Crowland simply says that Henry went north after the battle. Annales Rerum Anglicarum has Henry being captured on the field and soon thereafter knighting his son. Benet also has Henry being captured by the queen's men. The Great Chronicle, a later source, has Henry being brought to Margaret. George Neville, Warwick's brother, refers to Henry contemptuously as a puppet but makes no reference to Henry's conduct during the battle.
It is only when we get to Prospero di Camulio, writing from France, and to Jehan de Waurin, a Burgundian chronicler, that the story of Henry laughing and singing beneath the oak tree appears. It's possible, of course, that these two sources are accurately reporting Henry's conduct and that all of the English sources somehow left out this detail, but it seems unlikely, especially given the fact that none of the English sources quoted are sympathetic toward the Lancastrians and surely at least in some cases would have relished recounting a story that showed their king in such a pathetic state.
At any rate, the fact that the laughing-under-a-tree story is reported by only two foreign sources should have made Kendall hesitate before reporting it as an undisputed fact. It didn't, of course, and like so many other dubious stories from the time, it has acquired respectability and staying power thanks to being thoughtlessly regurgitated in popular nonfiction and in historical fiction.
But what was Henry VI doing during the battle? Paul Murray Kendall, for one, leaves the matter in no doubt: "King Henry, whom Warwick had taken with him, was found under a tree laughing and talking to himself" (Kendall, Richard the Third). This portrait, implying a Henry who was clearly demented, has a great deal of appeal for historians like Kendall who are hostile toward Margaret; it shows that Margaret was willing to place England in the hands of a madman to secure her own power.
Contemporary descriptions of the battle, however, are by no means united in their description of Henry's behavior during the battle--indeed, not a single contemporary English source that I have seen describes Henry as laughing and talking to himself during the battle. Here are all of the contemporary or near-contemporary accounts that I know of:
An English Chronicle, edited by John Silvester Davies:
The xij. day of Feuerer, the Thurseday, kyng Harry with his lordes, that ys to say, the duk of Norfolk, and Suffolk, the erles of Warrewyk and of Arundelle, the lorde Bonevyle and other, went oute of Londoun, and came with thayre peple to the toune of Seynt Albonys, nat knowyng that the peple of the North was so nyghe. And whanne the kyng herde that they were so nyghe hym, he went oute and took hys felde besyde a lytelle towne called Sandryge, nat fer fro Seynt Albonys, in a place called No-mannes land, and there he stoode and sawe his peple slayne on bothe sydes. And at the laste, thorow the witbdrawyng of the Kentisshmen with thayre capteyne, called Lovelace, that was in the vaunt-warde,—the whych Lovelace fauored the Northe party, for as moche as he was take by the Northurnmen at Wakefeld whan the duk of York was slayne, and made to theym an othe for to saue his lyfe, that he wold neuer be agayns theym,—and also be vndysposycion of the peple of the kynges syde, that wold nat be guyded ne gouerned by theyre capteyns, kyng Harryes part loste the feeld. The lordes that were wyth the kyng seyng thus, withdrowe theym, and went theyre wey.
Whan the kyng sawe his peple dysparbeled and the feeld broke, he went to his quene Margarete that came wyth the Northurmen, and hyr sone Edward; for thay of the North sayde that thay came for to restore the kyng to the quene his wyfe, and for to delyuer hym owte of pryson; forasmeche as seth the batayle of Northampton he had be vnder the rewle and gouernaunce of the erles of Warrewyk and Salesbury, and of other.
Gregory's Chronicle:
And in the myddys of the batayle Kynge Harry wente unto hys Quene and for-soke alle hys lordys, ande truste better to hyr party thenne unto hys owne lordys.
Registrum Abbatiae Johannis Whethamstede (thanks to Lesley Boatright for the translation out of the Latin):
When they saw this, the (senior and sensible) commanders in the field under the king understood that the king hmself had neither the spirit nor the courage to console or inspire his people – indeed, he could not put a good face on it or find words – but rather in his heart inclined to the reverse. They withdrew to the queen, his wife, hoping in future to have a better day with the enemy, by the grace of the God who instructs hands for battle and fingers for war.
When they had withdrawn, and all the people [= army] had slid away as in flight, there came to the lord king a certain esquire, learned in the law and eloquent enough, [393] whose name was Thomas Hoo. He suggested to him that he should he should look at and consider the situation in which he now stood: how he was alone, without commanders, without soldiers, without standard-bearers, or any other men-at-arms who should have been at his side for ensuring the safe and secure protection of his body. He should send a suitable man to the army of the Northerners and to the leaders who were in command of them, to tell them that, not only for the said reason, but also because he well knew that they wished him well and had banded together simply for his sake and had come in their strength to these parts, he was ready and prepared to come to them and to remain with them in the same way as he had formerly remained under the command of the Southern lords.
And so, after giving this advice, the said esquire was sent to the army of the Northerners. When he came there, and had revealed the king’s will to the earl of Northumberland, to whom he was very well known, he brought back certain lords with him, and they escorted the king first to the tent nearest the royal castle – that is, the tent of Lord de Clifford. Then they went to fetch the queen and the prince and conducted them both at once into his presence.
When he saw them, he was overjoyed in his inmost heart, just as a betrothed man rejoices over his betrothed, or a father over his son who after he had “perished” was found again and brought again into his presence. He embraced them in his arms, kissing them, and exclaimed at once, “May the Lord God be blessed, who has done such great things in the people of the North that it was enough to restore to us again my wife wrenched away for a time, to drive off all the enemy they met in this, and happily to triumph over the enemy!”
The Crowland Chronicle Continuations:
The northerners then invaded the South and reached St. Albans. The earl of Warwick, who had brought along King Henry as if to make him fight against his wife and son, was put to flight but the northerners failed to follow up their victory and took the king and queen back to the North.
Annales Rerum Anglicarum (from English Historical Documents, Vol. IV, ed. by A. R. Myers)
On Shrove Tuesday . . . took place the battle of St. Albans, where the Duke of Norfolk and the Earls of Warwick and Arundel and many others fled from the field. And King Henry was captured on the field along with Lord Montagu, his chamberlain. And the prince came to the king in the field, where the king, his father, dubbed him knight.
John Benet, from The Wars of the Roses, ed. by Elizabeth Hallam:
The king went out against them, about a mile from the eastern quarter of St. Albans, where the duke of Norfolk, the earl of Warwick and the earl of Arundel fled. They abandoned the king, who was then captured by the other lords.
Calendar of State Papers, Milan, George Neville writing to Francesco Coppino, Bishop of Terni, Apostolic Legate in Flanders, April 7, 1461:
On the 15th of February, as I think your lordship will have learned from others, we had an action with the enemy to our loss, near St. Albans, the details of which would be equally painful and lengthy to narrate, and everyone who heard of it must have been much astonished. However, I think it right to give you a summary account of this battle. The Lord Barni, brother of my lord of Canterbury, together with my brother Lord Montacute and Sir Thomas Carletone, knight, were taken and carried away to York. The strenuous cavalier, Lord de Bonavilla, with the spirited and valiant knight Sir Thomas Bryel were taken and beheaded. I forbear to name the other persons of lower rank who perished; they say that some 3,000 fell on one side and the other; but we, being fortunate, amid so many misfortunes, escaped and lost that puppet of a king (quel idolo del Re) as that statue of a king turned his face towards the North, pillaging in the country, and at length the wife, with her husband, arrived at York, glorying in their very bloody victory.
Calendar of State Papers, Venice, George Nevill, Bishop of Exeter, Chancellor of England, to Francesco Coppini, Bishop of Teramo, in Flanders, April 7, 1461:
As something new has occurred here since your departure, I will write briefly about these events, as learnt by letters, from the lips of messengers, or from common report; although they are much incumbered and perplexed with many important matters.
On the 13th kalends of March (17th February) we fought unsuccessfully near St. Alban's, the details of which action would be too long to narrate, but I think it right to give a summary of the battle. Lord Berners (John Bourchier), brother of the Archbishop of Canterbury (Thomas Bourchier), with my brother Lord Montagu (John Nevill) and Sir Thomas Charleton, Knight, were captured and taken as far as York. Lord de Bonneville and Sir Thomas Kiryel were taken and beheaded, and many of inferior station on our side were destroyed. The loss on both sides amounts to well nigh 3,000 men. We however fled, and lost that puppet of a King—fortunate assuredly in this disaster; whereupon the puppet was carried off northwards and the country ravaged; at length the woman with her consort got to York, big everywhere of their not bloodless and unquestionable victory.
The Great Chronicle of London
And the Quene & hyr party hadd the vyctory & cawsed therle of warwyk & his men to ffle, Soo that kyng henry was lafft soo smally accompanyed, he was there takyn & browgth unto the Quene his wyfe . . .
Calendar of State Papers, Milan, March 9, 1461, Prospero di Camulio, Milanese Ambassador to the Court of France, etc., to Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan.
The king was placed under a tree a mile away, where he laughed and sang, and when the defeat of the Earl of Warwick was reported, he detained upon his promise the two princes who had been left to guard him. Very soon the Duke of Somerset and the conquerors arrived to salute him, and he received them in friendly fashion and went with them to St. Albans to the queen, and on the morrow one of the two detained, upon his assurance, was beheaded and the other imprisoned.
Jehan de Waurin, Recueil des Chroniques, from English history illustrated from original sources ... 1399-1485, ed. by F. Hermia Durham.
And thus the king was taken under a great oak, where he was laughing greatly at what had occurred, and he begged those who came to him that they should do no hurt to the person of Monsieur Kyriel, which they promised ; but Lovelace, the disloyal traitor, led the king, Sir Thomas, and his son to the queen, who was right glad to meet the king.
So what do we have here? None of the English writers describes Henry as laughing and singing under a tree or as otherwise acting demented. The English Chronicle has Henry, seeing his Yorkist captors scattered, going to his wife. Gregory has Henry deserting to Margaret in the middle of the battle. Whethamsted, the abbot of St. Albans, who played host to Henry after the battle and would have been well aware of his mental state at the time, has Henry being given advice by Thomas Hoo before eventually being escorted to his wife. Crowland simply says that Henry went north after the battle. Annales Rerum Anglicarum has Henry being captured on the field and soon thereafter knighting his son. Benet also has Henry being captured by the queen's men. The Great Chronicle, a later source, has Henry being brought to Margaret. George Neville, Warwick's brother, refers to Henry contemptuously as a puppet but makes no reference to Henry's conduct during the battle.
It is only when we get to Prospero di Camulio, writing from France, and to Jehan de Waurin, a Burgundian chronicler, that the story of Henry laughing and singing beneath the oak tree appears. It's possible, of course, that these two sources are accurately reporting Henry's conduct and that all of the English sources somehow left out this detail, but it seems unlikely, especially given the fact that none of the English sources quoted are sympathetic toward the Lancastrians and surely at least in some cases would have relished recounting a story that showed their king in such a pathetic state.
At any rate, the fact that the laughing-under-a-tree story is reported by only two foreign sources should have made Kendall hesitate before reporting it as an undisputed fact. It didn't, of course, and like so many other dubious stories from the time, it has acquired respectability and staying power thanks to being thoughtlessly regurgitated in popular nonfiction and in historical fiction.
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
Mean Girls, Historical Fiction Style
As some of my Facebook friends know, there's a group called The History Police where like-minded individuals congregate in order to decry books and movies that distort history. Because a lot of us in that particular group are interested in medieval and Tudor history, books dealing with those periods get a good going-over there.
One of the discussions has centered on a novel set during the Wars of the Roses. It depicts Margaret of Anjou as being sexually promiscuous. Elizabeth Woodville also features in the novel, and is depicted in this and the author's other novels as practicing witchcraft with malicious intent. There's nothing unusual about either woman being treated in this manner, of course; it's almost mandatory in historical fiction set during this period.
Now, as we've discussed on this blog, there is no evidence--only Yorkist propaganda in Margaret's case and Richard III's unproven allegations in Elizabeth's--that Margaret had extramarital affairs or that Elizabeth Woodville was a practicing witch. These allegations were politically useful to those who made them. They also have their roots in misogyny and sexism, accusations of sexual misconduct and of sorcery being convenient weapons to use against women one needed to discredit or to get out of the way.
Which brings me to my point (you knew I would get there soon or later, didn't you?). The author of the novel I mentioned above is a woman, as are the authors of most other novels that depict Margaret of Anjou and Elizabeth Woodville in this manner. Why would a female novelist want to perpetuate these stereotypical views of these women, or of any other historical woman? Why not make an effort to separate fact from propaganda?
The quick answer, for female and male novelists alike, is laziness. After all, most of the novelists who deal in stereotypes of historical women also deal in stereotypes of historical men. One can write a novel that's unsympathetic to, say, Margaret of Anjou or Elizabeth Woodville without turning Margaret into a slut or Elizabeth Woodville into a sorceress, but it requires a little more work on the author's part. Sadly, many authors appear unable or unwilling to undertake such labor.
Another answer is to serve an agenda: the worse Elizabeth Woodville looks, for instance, the better Richard III can be made to look. If Margaret of Anjou is indeed sleeping with half of the nobility of England, the Yorkists can't possibly be faulted for saying that her son is a bastard. Showing the Yorkists as capable of spreading lies to further their cause adds an unsettling element of moral ambiguity, which many novelists prefer to do without.
There's also a third answer, I think: the old Good Girl/Bad Girl dichotomy, where historical women are made to fall neatly into one of two distinct categories. (Anne Boleyn: Bad/Catherine of Aragon: Good is one of the most common variants of this.) One sees this with historical men to some extent, but much more so, I think, with historical women.
So do female novelists owe some sort of higher duty when dealing with female historical figures? That's a hard question to answer, but to an extent, I would have to say yes. I dislike perpetuating myths and unfounded assertions about historical figures in general, both men and women. I'm also not one of those women who finds sexism lurking under every tree. But sexism and misogyny, and the slanders based thereon, have colored our view of historical women in a way they haven't of historical men, and for that reason I do find it especially bothersome when female novelists perpetuate these slanders--thereby ensuring that they live on and even giving them an added credibility that they might lack if they came from a male novelist. As the teacher in the movie Mean Girls said to a group of female high school students, "You all have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it OK for guys to call you sluts and whores."
One of the discussions has centered on a novel set during the Wars of the Roses. It depicts Margaret of Anjou as being sexually promiscuous. Elizabeth Woodville also features in the novel, and is depicted in this and the author's other novels as practicing witchcraft with malicious intent. There's nothing unusual about either woman being treated in this manner, of course; it's almost mandatory in historical fiction set during this period.
Now, as we've discussed on this blog, there is no evidence--only Yorkist propaganda in Margaret's case and Richard III's unproven allegations in Elizabeth's--that Margaret had extramarital affairs or that Elizabeth Woodville was a practicing witch. These allegations were politically useful to those who made them. They also have their roots in misogyny and sexism, accusations of sexual misconduct and of sorcery being convenient weapons to use against women one needed to discredit or to get out of the way.
Which brings me to my point (you knew I would get there soon or later, didn't you?). The author of the novel I mentioned above is a woman, as are the authors of most other novels that depict Margaret of Anjou and Elizabeth Woodville in this manner. Why would a female novelist want to perpetuate these stereotypical views of these women, or of any other historical woman? Why not make an effort to separate fact from propaganda?
The quick answer, for female and male novelists alike, is laziness. After all, most of the novelists who deal in stereotypes of historical women also deal in stereotypes of historical men. One can write a novel that's unsympathetic to, say, Margaret of Anjou or Elizabeth Woodville without turning Margaret into a slut or Elizabeth Woodville into a sorceress, but it requires a little more work on the author's part. Sadly, many authors appear unable or unwilling to undertake such labor.
Another answer is to serve an agenda: the worse Elizabeth Woodville looks, for instance, the better Richard III can be made to look. If Margaret of Anjou is indeed sleeping with half of the nobility of England, the Yorkists can't possibly be faulted for saying that her son is a bastard. Showing the Yorkists as capable of spreading lies to further their cause adds an unsettling element of moral ambiguity, which many novelists prefer to do without.
There's also a third answer, I think: the old Good Girl/Bad Girl dichotomy, where historical women are made to fall neatly into one of two distinct categories. (Anne Boleyn: Bad/Catherine of Aragon: Good is one of the most common variants of this.) One sees this with historical men to some extent, but much more so, I think, with historical women.
So do female novelists owe some sort of higher duty when dealing with female historical figures? That's a hard question to answer, but to an extent, I would have to say yes. I dislike perpetuating myths and unfounded assertions about historical figures in general, both men and women. I'm also not one of those women who finds sexism lurking under every tree. But sexism and misogyny, and the slanders based thereon, have colored our view of historical women in a way they haven't of historical men, and for that reason I do find it especially bothersome when female novelists perpetuate these slanders--thereby ensuring that they live on and even giving them an added credibility that they might lack if they came from a male novelist. As the teacher in the movie Mean Girls said to a group of female high school students, "You all have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it OK for guys to call you sluts and whores."
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The Last Will of Jane Dudley, Duchess of Northumberland
As I forewarned you a few posts ago, we’re beginning to move into Tudor territory! But I think you’ll find this will, and the story behind it, a moving one.
Jane Dudley, Duchess of Northumberland, was born Jane Guildford around 1509. By the time she was sixteen or so, she had married her father’s ward, John Dudley (born 1504), whose father, Edmund Dudley, had had the dubious distinction of being one of the first people executed by Henry VIII. Despite John’s unpromising start in life, he rose high in Henry VIII’s service and even higher in that of his young son, Edward VI. By 1551, he had become the Duke of Northumberland. (We’ll be talking about Northumberland more on this blog in the months to come; hence this abbreviated discussion of him now.)
Meanwhile, Jane had borne her husband thirteen children. By the time of Edward VI's death in July 1553, only seven of Jane and John's children were alive: five sons and two daughters. The youngest son, Guildford, had married Lady Jane Grey. Their match, and Northumberland’s attempt to divert the succession from Mary Tudor to Jane Grey, proved to be the undoing of Northumberland. He was arrested and imprisoned in the Tower, along with all five of his sons, by the victorious Mary. Jane Dudley herself spent about a week as a prisoner in the Tower before being released. She set off to meet Queen Mary, who was making her way to London, to beg for the lives of her sons and most likely her husband as well. Mary, however, was in no mood to receive Northumberland’s wife. She refused to give Jane an audience and ordered her to return to London.
Literally sick with her fears for her husband , Jane wrote a letter to Anne Paget, begging her to urge her own husband, William, Lord Paget, and two of Mary’s intimates, Gertrude Courtenay, Marchioness of Exeter, and Susan Clarencius, to speak to the queen for Northumberland’s life. Jane also asked that Lord Paget be a good lord unto Jane’s “powere v sones,” explaining, “nayture cane noe othere wyss doe butt sue fore theme although I doe nott so meche care fore theme as fore there fathere who was to me & to my mynd the moste beste gentylmane that evere levynge womane was mached w’all.” If anyone did speak to Mary on Northumberland’s behalf, though, it was a futile gesture: Jane’s “moste beste gentylmane,” whom she had known since she was a child of three or four, was beheaded on August 22, 1553.
Though Jane’s five sons remained in the Tower under a death sentence, Mary was inclined to mercy now that Northumberland was dead. Unfortunately, Wyatt’s Rebellion changed her mind. On February 12, 1554, Guildford Dudley and his wife, Lady Jane Grey, were executed.
The Duchess of Northumberland had lost her husband and her youngest son in just a space of a few months. Shattering as these losses must have been, she managed to exert herself on behalf of her four surviving sons, all still in the Tower; as early as October 1553, the Spanish ambassadors had reported, "The Duchess of Northumberland is doing her utmost to secure a pardon for her children." Though she herself was probably an evangelical in outlook, she tried to ingratiate herself with the queen by petitioning that her sons be allowed to hear mass. When Mary’s marriage to Philip of Spain brought a host of Spaniards to court, the duchess lobbied them on behalf of her sons. By the autumn of 1554, her efforts finally bore fruit. John Dudley, her oldest son, was released in October 1554, but he was ailing: he died on October 21, 1554. By January 1555, however, her remaining three sons--including the Robert Dudley who was to become the favorite of Elizabeth I--had been freed, though all remained under attainder for the moment.
Jane had one bright spot in her life in 1554: her daughter Mary, the wife of Henry Sidney, bore a son, Philip Sidney, on November 30, 1554. (Philip Sidney became the well-known author of Astrophil and Stella and A Defence of Poesy.) Jane served as the little boy’s godmother, but she would not live to enjoy her grandchild or the company of her freed sons, for her health was failing. She died either on January 15, 1555, the date in postmortem inquisitions, or on January 22, 1455, the date on her tomb.
In the weeks before her death, Jane wrote her will with her own hand. Fittingly, given her family’s recent history, she left forty shillings each to the prisoners of Newgate, Ludgate, the King’s Bench, and the Marshalsea. She asked for a modest funeral, explaining that she would prefer that her debts be paid and the poor given unto “then any pompe to be shewed upon my wreched carkes.” Whoever trusted to the transitory world as she had, the duchess added, “may happen have an overthrowe as I hadd.”
Though Northumberland’s goods had been seized, Mary had allowed Jane to retain many of the luxuries she had enjoyed in the days before her husband’s downfall. Jane thus was able to give her two daughters and her surviving sons’ wives, who included the ill-fated Amy Dudley, gowns of rich material. Jane also remembered a number of her own relations and those of her husband: Northumberland’s younger brother Andrew, his disabled brother Jerome, and his half-sister Bridget all received gifts. Bridget’s gifts included three pairs of linen ruffs and a pair of “night sleeves” of calico cloth. Jane’s other gifts to her family members included beds, chairs, coffers, sheets, cushions, and Turkish carpets.
Jane remembered with deep gratitude the Spaniards who had helped her. To Don Diego de Acevedo, she left a bed and other gifts, “beseching hym even as he hath in my lyf tyme shewed hym self lyke a father and brother to my sones, so I shall requyer hym no lesse to doo nowe their mother is gone.” Ruy Gomez received a silver box; Jane prayed “hym to be good to my sonnes.” To the Duchess of Alva Jane left her green parrot, adding “I have nothing worthy for her elles.”
The Lady Paget to whom Jane addressed her impassioned letter in 1553 received a “high-backed gown of wrought velvet,” while her husband was given a black enameled ring. Susan Clarencius received a tawny velvet jewel coffer.
Among Jane’s most prized possessions were several elaborate clocks. Don Diego de Mendoza received “my litle booke Clocke that hath the sonne and the mone wythin yt.” The Queen’s high steward received a clock with “planettes and the chime to yt belonging whiche is at the Clockemakers in Southwarke.” Poignantly, Jane left her daughter Mary a clock “that was my lorde her fathers, praying her to kepe yt as a Jewell.” Elsewhere, Jane alludes to "my very owne Lande by my lorde my dere Husbandes giftes."
Jane did not forget her servants; she asked that her executors see her debts paid and “my servants discharged that hath in my howse served me honestly sence my lorde departid.” A number received individual bequests; those not named were to receive two years’ wages and a black coat.
Despite her wishes for a simple funeral, Jane was buried in some style on February 1, 1555. The chronicler Henry Machyn, who apparently provided goods for funerals and thus had a natural interest in the ceremonies, noted, “The first day of February was buried the Duchess of Northumberland, at Chelsea, where she lived, with a goodly hearse of wax and pencels and escutcheons, two banners of arms, and four banners of images with many mourners and with two heralds of arms. There was a majesty and the valence and six dozen of torches and two white branches, and all the church hanged in black and arms and a canopy borne over her to the church.” Janes's tomb can still be seen today at Chelsea Old Church.
Finally, there is a rather odd Princes-in-the-Tower theory, propounded by Jack Leslau, which holds that Jane’s father, Edward Guildford, was actually Edward V, and that the younger prince survived under the guise of John Clement. Proponents of the theory have suggested that DNA testing be done to confirm whether the two men were related. Any such testing on Jane herself would be against Jane’s express wishes, for in her will, she specifically asked that she lie undisturbed: “nor in no wise to let me be opened after I am ded: I have not loved to be very bold afore women moche more I wold be lothe to com into thandes of any lyving man be he phisicion or surgion.”
Sources:
Calendar of State Papers, Spanish, vols. 11-12.
S. J. Gunn, “A Letter of Jane, Duchess of Northumberland, in 1553.” English Historical Review, November 1999.
David Loades, ‘Dudley, John, duke of Northumberland (1504–1553)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford University Press, Sept 2004; online edn, Oct 2008 [http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/8156, accessed 29 Aug 2010]
Henry Machyn, A London Provisioner’s Chronicle. Online here.
National Archives PROB 11/37/194.
Jane Dudley, Duchess of Northumberland, was born Jane Guildford around 1509. By the time she was sixteen or so, she had married her father’s ward, John Dudley (born 1504), whose father, Edmund Dudley, had had the dubious distinction of being one of the first people executed by Henry VIII. Despite John’s unpromising start in life, he rose high in Henry VIII’s service and even higher in that of his young son, Edward VI. By 1551, he had become the Duke of Northumberland. (We’ll be talking about Northumberland more on this blog in the months to come; hence this abbreviated discussion of him now.)
Meanwhile, Jane had borne her husband thirteen children. By the time of Edward VI's death in July 1553, only seven of Jane and John's children were alive: five sons and two daughters. The youngest son, Guildford, had married Lady Jane Grey. Their match, and Northumberland’s attempt to divert the succession from Mary Tudor to Jane Grey, proved to be the undoing of Northumberland. He was arrested and imprisoned in the Tower, along with all five of his sons, by the victorious Mary. Jane Dudley herself spent about a week as a prisoner in the Tower before being released. She set off to meet Queen Mary, who was making her way to London, to beg for the lives of her sons and most likely her husband as well. Mary, however, was in no mood to receive Northumberland’s wife. She refused to give Jane an audience and ordered her to return to London.
Literally sick with her fears for her husband , Jane wrote a letter to Anne Paget, begging her to urge her own husband, William, Lord Paget, and two of Mary’s intimates, Gertrude Courtenay, Marchioness of Exeter, and Susan Clarencius, to speak to the queen for Northumberland’s life. Jane also asked that Lord Paget be a good lord unto Jane’s “powere v sones,” explaining, “nayture cane noe othere wyss doe butt sue fore theme although I doe nott so meche care fore theme as fore there fathere who was to me & to my mynd the moste beste gentylmane that evere levynge womane was mached w’all.” If anyone did speak to Mary on Northumberland’s behalf, though, it was a futile gesture: Jane’s “moste beste gentylmane,” whom she had known since she was a child of three or four, was beheaded on August 22, 1553.
Though Jane’s five sons remained in the Tower under a death sentence, Mary was inclined to mercy now that Northumberland was dead. Unfortunately, Wyatt’s Rebellion changed her mind. On February 12, 1554, Guildford Dudley and his wife, Lady Jane Grey, were executed.
The Duchess of Northumberland had lost her husband and her youngest son in just a space of a few months. Shattering as these losses must have been, she managed to exert herself on behalf of her four surviving sons, all still in the Tower; as early as October 1553, the Spanish ambassadors had reported, "The Duchess of Northumberland is doing her utmost to secure a pardon for her children." Though she herself was probably an evangelical in outlook, she tried to ingratiate herself with the queen by petitioning that her sons be allowed to hear mass. When Mary’s marriage to Philip of Spain brought a host of Spaniards to court, the duchess lobbied them on behalf of her sons. By the autumn of 1554, her efforts finally bore fruit. John Dudley, her oldest son, was released in October 1554, but he was ailing: he died on October 21, 1554. By January 1555, however, her remaining three sons--including the Robert Dudley who was to become the favorite of Elizabeth I--had been freed, though all remained under attainder for the moment.
Jane had one bright spot in her life in 1554: her daughter Mary, the wife of Henry Sidney, bore a son, Philip Sidney, on November 30, 1554. (Philip Sidney became the well-known author of Astrophil and Stella and A Defence of Poesy.) Jane served as the little boy’s godmother, but she would not live to enjoy her grandchild or the company of her freed sons, for her health was failing. She died either on January 15, 1555, the date in postmortem inquisitions, or on January 22, 1455, the date on her tomb.
In the weeks before her death, Jane wrote her will with her own hand. Fittingly, given her family’s recent history, she left forty shillings each to the prisoners of Newgate, Ludgate, the King’s Bench, and the Marshalsea. She asked for a modest funeral, explaining that she would prefer that her debts be paid and the poor given unto “then any pompe to be shewed upon my wreched carkes.” Whoever trusted to the transitory world as she had, the duchess added, “may happen have an overthrowe as I hadd.”
Though Northumberland’s goods had been seized, Mary had allowed Jane to retain many of the luxuries she had enjoyed in the days before her husband’s downfall. Jane thus was able to give her two daughters and her surviving sons’ wives, who included the ill-fated Amy Dudley, gowns of rich material. Jane also remembered a number of her own relations and those of her husband: Northumberland’s younger brother Andrew, his disabled brother Jerome, and his half-sister Bridget all received gifts. Bridget’s gifts included three pairs of linen ruffs and a pair of “night sleeves” of calico cloth. Jane’s other gifts to her family members included beds, chairs, coffers, sheets, cushions, and Turkish carpets.
Jane remembered with deep gratitude the Spaniards who had helped her. To Don Diego de Acevedo, she left a bed and other gifts, “beseching hym even as he hath in my lyf tyme shewed hym self lyke a father and brother to my sones, so I shall requyer hym no lesse to doo nowe their mother is gone.” Ruy Gomez received a silver box; Jane prayed “hym to be good to my sonnes.” To the Duchess of Alva Jane left her green parrot, adding “I have nothing worthy for her elles.”
The Lady Paget to whom Jane addressed her impassioned letter in 1553 received a “high-backed gown of wrought velvet,” while her husband was given a black enameled ring. Susan Clarencius received a tawny velvet jewel coffer.
Among Jane’s most prized possessions were several elaborate clocks. Don Diego de Mendoza received “my litle booke Clocke that hath the sonne and the mone wythin yt.” The Queen’s high steward received a clock with “planettes and the chime to yt belonging whiche is at the Clockemakers in Southwarke.” Poignantly, Jane left her daughter Mary a clock “that was my lorde her fathers, praying her to kepe yt as a Jewell.” Elsewhere, Jane alludes to "my very owne Lande by my lorde my dere Husbandes giftes."
Jane did not forget her servants; she asked that her executors see her debts paid and “my servants discharged that hath in my howse served me honestly sence my lorde departid.” A number received individual bequests; those not named were to receive two years’ wages and a black coat.
Despite her wishes for a simple funeral, Jane was buried in some style on February 1, 1555. The chronicler Henry Machyn, who apparently provided goods for funerals and thus had a natural interest in the ceremonies, noted, “The first day of February was buried the Duchess of Northumberland, at Chelsea, where she lived, with a goodly hearse of wax and pencels and escutcheons, two banners of arms, and four banners of images with many mourners and with two heralds of arms. There was a majesty and the valence and six dozen of torches and two white branches, and all the church hanged in black and arms and a canopy borne over her to the church.” Janes's tomb can still be seen today at Chelsea Old Church.
Finally, there is a rather odd Princes-in-the-Tower theory, propounded by Jack Leslau, which holds that Jane’s father, Edward Guildford, was actually Edward V, and that the younger prince survived under the guise of John Clement. Proponents of the theory have suggested that DNA testing be done to confirm whether the two men were related. Any such testing on Jane herself would be against Jane’s express wishes, for in her will, she specifically asked that she lie undisturbed: “nor in no wise to let me be opened after I am ded: I have not loved to be very bold afore women moche more I wold be lothe to com into thandes of any lyving man be he phisicion or surgion.”
Sources:
Calendar of State Papers, Spanish, vols. 11-12.
S. J. Gunn, “A Letter of Jane, Duchess of Northumberland, in 1553.” English Historical Review, November 1999.
David Loades, ‘Dudley, John, duke of Northumberland (1504–1553)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford University Press, Sept 2004; online edn, Oct 2008 [http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/8156, accessed 29 Aug 2010]
Henry Machyn, A London Provisioner’s Chronicle. Online here.
National Archives PROB 11/37/194.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York
In 1830, Nicholas Harris Nicolas published Privy Purse Expenses of Elizabeth of York, from which these extracts are taken. They cover the last year of Elizabeth's life, from March 24, 1502, through her death on February 11, 1503. The complete book can be found on Google Books and is also available here.
This was a sad year for Elizabeth, whose eldest son, Arthur, died on April 2, 1502. She and Henry VII, who is often stereotyped as cold-hearted, comforted each other:
Despite this sorrowful event, most of the expenses concern mundane daily matters. They pretty much speak for themselves, but note the care Elizabeth took of her fool, her taste for venison, and her rich clothing (contrary to some novels that have Henry forcing his queen to wear threadbare gowns).
Itm....delivered to John Goose my lord of Yorkes fole in rewarde for bringing a Carppe to the Quene ----------xij d.
Itm....to Robert Aleyn for a rewarde by him geven to the doughtier of the keper of the Kinges place at Westm{r} for bringing a present of almond butter to the Quene to Hampton Courte ----------iij s. iiij. d.
Itm....to a Mynstrell that played upon a droon before the Quene at Richemount in rewarde ----------iij s. iiiij. d.
Itm....to a servaunt of my lady Nevile wif to S{r} Thomas Darcy, in rewarde for bringing a present of Sele to the Quene to Richemount ----------x s.
Item....the same day to a pore man that brought a present of Oranges and Apples to the Quene at Richemount ---------- xij d.
Itm....delivered to S{r} William Barton preest for thofferinges of the Quene to oure lady and Saint George at Wyndesoure and to the Holy Crosse there ij s. vj d. to King Henry [i.e., Henry VI] ij s. vj d. to oure lady of Eton xx d. to the Childe of grace at Reding ij s. vj d. to oure lady of Caversham ijs. vj d. to oure lady of Cokthorp xx d. to the holy blode of Heyles xx d. to Prince Edward v s. to oure lady of Worcestre v s. to the Holy Rood at Northampton v s. to oure lady of Grace there ij s. vj d. to oure lady of Walsingham vj s. viij d. to oure lady of Sudbury ij s. vj d. to oure lady of Wolpitte xx d. to oure lady of Ippeswiche iij s. iiij d. and to oure lady of Stokeclare xx d. ----------Sm{a} xlviij s. iiij d.
Itm....the seconde day of May to William Botery for a yerd quart' di quart' of blake tynselle saten of the riche making for an edge of a gowne of blake velvet for the Quene at xxxiij s. iiij d. the yerd xlv s. x d. Itm a yerd quarter di quarter of blake saten for an edge of a gowne of crymsyn velvet at viij s. the yerd xj s. Itm seven yerdes of grene satten of Bruges for a kertell for my Lady Anne at ij s. viij d. the yerd xviij s. viij d. Itm for xij yardes sarcenet of eight divers colours for girdelles for the Quene at iiij s. the yerd xlviij s. Itm iiij yerdes di of sarcenet of tawny grene and russet at xxij d. the yerd viij s. iij d. ---------- vj li. xj s. ix d.
Itm....the xvij{th} of Juyn to a servaunt of the Maire of London in reward for bringing a present of cherys to the Quene at Windesour ----------- vj s. viij d.
# Itm....the ij{de} day of July to William Worthy otherwise called Phip for the bourde of William the Quenes fole for iij monethes ended the last day of Juyn that is to wit from the last day of Marche unto the furst day of July at ij s. the moneth Sm{a} ---------- vj s.
Itm....the same day to the said William Phip for his wages for keping of the said fole by the space of iij quarters of a yere ended at Midsomer last past ---------- xx s.
Itm....to the same William for money by him payed to Rauf Wise of Grenewiche for the diettes and othere necessaryes of the said fole there being sik by the space of iiij wekes ---- ----- iiij s.
Itm....the same day to Edmund Calver page of the Quenes chambre for a payre of shois for the Quenes fole vj d.
Itm....in rewarde to the keper of the parke of Miserder for bringing thre bukkes to Monmouth ----------- v s.
Itm....the same day to High Denys for money by him delivered to a straungier that gave the Quene a payre of clavycordes in crownes for his reward ---------- iiij li.
Itm....the same day to Thomas Woodnot for the expenses of the Quenes greyhoundes for the monethes of July August and Septembre that is to wit iiij{xx} xij dayes at ij d. the day ---------- xv s. iiij d.
# Itm....the xij{th} day of Novembre to Doctoure Undrewood the Quenes confessoure for money by him dault in aulmous in London by the Quenes commaundement ------- --- xx s.
Itm....the same day to S{r} Richard Lewes Knight for a cheyne of golde with vij knottes wayeng vij onz di and di quarter price the onz xxvj s. viij d. Sm{a} ---------- x li. iij s. iiij d.
* Itm....the xxvij{ti} day of Novembre to Richard Justice page of the robys for his costes going from Westminster to London in the nyght for a gowne of blewe velvet for the Quene and for his bote hyere viij d. Itm for conveyeng alle the Quenes lyned gownys from Westminster to London by water and for mens labour that bare the same gownys to the water and from the water v d. Itm for bringing the Quenes furred gownys from London to Westminster and for mens labours that bare the same to and from the water v d. Itm for his costes from Westminster to London to take the remaynes of suche stuf as remaineth there iiij d. Itm for going from Westminster to London for vij yerdes quarter di of blake damaske and for a frontlet of golde for the Quene iiij d. and for maing a newe key to the grete standard being in the warderobe of the robys and for mending of boeth lokkes to the same vj d. Sm{a} ----------ij s. viij d.
Itm....the same day to Henry Bryan for xvij yerdes of blake velvet for a gowne for the Quene at x s. vj d. the yerde viij li. xviij s. vj d. Itm for xiij yerdes of blake satten delivered to Johnson for a riding gowne for the Quene at ix s. the yerde C xvij s. Itm for a yerde di quarter of blake velvet for an edge and cuffes for the same gowne at xj s. vj d. the yerde xiij s. Itm for vij yerdes di of blake bokeram for lynyng of the same gowne at ix d. the yerde v s. viij d. ob. Itm for a nayle of sarcenet for fentes for the same gowne iiij d. and for an elle quarter of canvase for lynyng of the same gowne vj d. Sm{a} ----------xv li. xiiij s. xj d. ob.
Itm for xxxvij payre shoes for xxxvij{ti} poure women at the Quenes Maundy at v d. the payre xv s. v d.
Itm....to Cornishe for setting of a carrelle upon Cristmas day in reward ---------- xiij s. iiij d.
Itm....to the children of the Kinges Chappelle in rewarde to theim geven upon Cristmas day xiij s. iiij d. ---------- xiij s. iiij d.
Itm....to the Quenes grace upon the Feest of Saint Stephen for hur disporte at cardes this Cristmas ---------- C s.
Itm....to the keper of the parke of Odiham for bringing of ten does to the Quene to Richemounte on newe yeres even last passed ----------- x s.
This was a sad year for Elizabeth, whose eldest son, Arthur, died on April 2, 1502. She and Henry VII, who is often stereotyped as cold-hearted, comforted each other:
"Immediately after Arthur's death, Sir Richard Poole, his Chamberlain, with other of his Counsel, wrote and sent letters to the King and Counsel, at Greenwich, whre his Grace and the Queen lay, and certified them of the Prince's departure. The which Counsel discreetly sent for the King's ghostly father, a friar observant, to whom they showed this most sorrowful and heavy tidings, and desired him in his best manner to show it to the King. He, in the morning of the Tuesday following, somewhat before the time accustomed, knocked at the King's chamber door, and when the King understood it was his confessor, he commanded to let him in. The confessor then commanded all those present to avoid, and after due salutation began to say 'Si bona de manu Dei suscipimus, mala autum quare non sustineamus,' and so showed his Grace that his dearest son was departed to God. When his Grace understood that sorrowful heavy tidings, he sent for the Queen, saying that he had his Queen would take the painful sorrows together. After that she was come and saw the King her lord, and that natural and painful sorrow, as I have heard say, she, with full great and constant comfortable words besought his Grace that he would first after God remember the weal of his own noble person, the comfort of his realm, and of her. She then said, that my lady, his mother, had never no more children but him only, and that God by his grace had ever preserved him, and brought him where that he was. Over that, how that God had left him yet a fair prince, two fair princesses; and that God is where he was, and we were both young enough; and that the prudence and wisdom of his Grace sprung over all Christendom, so that it should please him to take this according thereunto. Then the King thanked her for her good comfort. After that she was departed and come to her own chamber, natural and motherly remembrance of that great loss smote her so sorrowful to the heart, that those that were about her were fain to send for the King to comfort her. Then his Grace, of true, gentle, and faithful love, in good haste came and relieved her, and showed her how wise counsel she had given him before; and he, for his part, would thank God for his sone and would she do in like wise.
Despite this sorrowful event, most of the expenses concern mundane daily matters. They pretty much speak for themselves, but note the care Elizabeth took of her fool, her taste for venison, and her rich clothing (contrary to some novels that have Henry forcing his queen to wear threadbare gowns).
Itm....delivered to John Goose my lord of Yorkes fole in rewarde for bringing a Carppe to the Quene ----------xij d.
Itm....to Robert Aleyn for a rewarde by him geven to the doughtier of the keper of the Kinges place at Westm{r} for bringing a present of almond butter to the Quene to Hampton Courte ----------iij s. iiij. d.
Itm....to a Mynstrell that played upon a droon before the Quene at Richemount in rewarde ----------iij s. iiiij. d.
Itm....to a servaunt of my lady Nevile wif to S{r} Thomas Darcy, in rewarde for bringing a present of Sele to the Quene to Richemount ----------x s.
Item....the same day to a pore man that brought a present of Oranges and Apples to the Quene at Richemount ---------- xij d.
Itm....delivered to S{r} William Barton preest for thofferinges of the Quene to oure lady and Saint George at Wyndesoure and to the Holy Crosse there ij s. vj d. to King Henry [i.e., Henry VI] ij s. vj d. to oure lady of Eton xx d. to the Childe of grace at Reding ij s. vj d. to oure lady of Caversham ijs. vj d. to oure lady of Cokthorp xx d. to the holy blode of Heyles xx d. to Prince Edward v s. to oure lady of Worcestre v s. to the Holy Rood at Northampton v s. to oure lady of Grace there ij s. vj d. to oure lady of Walsingham vj s. viij d. to oure lady of Sudbury ij s. vj d. to oure lady of Wolpitte xx d. to oure lady of Ippeswiche iij s. iiij d. and to oure lady of Stokeclare xx d. ----------Sm{a} xlviij s. iiij d.
Itm....the seconde day of May to William Botery for a yerd quart' di quart' of blake tynselle saten of the riche making for an edge of a gowne of blake velvet for the Quene at xxxiij s. iiij d. the yerd xlv s. x d. Itm a yerd quarter di quarter of blake saten for an edge of a gowne of crymsyn velvet at viij s. the yerd xj s. Itm seven yerdes of grene satten of Bruges for a kertell for my Lady Anne at ij s. viij d. the yerd xviij s. viij d. Itm for xij yardes sarcenet of eight divers colours for girdelles for the Quene at iiij s. the yerd xlviij s. Itm iiij yerdes di of sarcenet of tawny grene and russet at xxij d. the yerd viij s. iij d. ---------- vj li. xj s. ix d.
Itm....the xvij{th} of Juyn to a servaunt of the Maire of London in reward for bringing a present of cherys to the Quene at Windesour ----------- vj s. viij d.
# Itm....the ij{de} day of July to William Worthy otherwise called Phip for the bourde of William the Quenes fole for iij monethes ended the last day of Juyn that is to wit from the last day of Marche unto the furst day of July at ij s. the moneth Sm{a} ---------- vj s.
Itm....the same day to the said William Phip for his wages for keping of the said fole by the space of iij quarters of a yere ended at Midsomer last past ---------- xx s.
Itm....to the same William for money by him payed to Rauf Wise of Grenewiche for the diettes and othere necessaryes of the said fole there being sik by the space of iiij wekes ---- ----- iiij s.
Itm....the same day to Edmund Calver page of the Quenes chambre for a payre of shois for the Quenes fole vj d.
Itm....in rewarde to the keper of the parke of Miserder for bringing thre bukkes to Monmouth ----------- v s.
Itm....the same day to High Denys for money by him delivered to a straungier that gave the Quene a payre of clavycordes in crownes for his reward ---------- iiij li.
Itm....the same day to Thomas Woodnot for the expenses of the Quenes greyhoundes for the monethes of July August and Septembre that is to wit iiij{xx} xij dayes at ij d. the day ---------- xv s. iiij d.
# Itm....the xij{th} day of Novembre to Doctoure Undrewood the Quenes confessoure for money by him dault in aulmous in London by the Quenes commaundement ------- --- xx s.
Itm....the same day to S{r} Richard Lewes Knight for a cheyne of golde with vij knottes wayeng vij onz di and di quarter price the onz xxvj s. viij d. Sm{a} ---------- x li. iij s. iiij d.
* Itm....the xxvij{ti} day of Novembre to Richard Justice page of the robys for his costes going from Westminster to London in the nyght for a gowne of blewe velvet for the Quene and for his bote hyere viij d. Itm for conveyeng alle the Quenes lyned gownys from Westminster to London by water and for mens labour that bare the same gownys to the water and from the water v d. Itm for bringing the Quenes furred gownys from London to Westminster and for mens labours that bare the same to and from the water v d. Itm for his costes from Westminster to London to take the remaynes of suche stuf as remaineth there iiij d. Itm for going from Westminster to London for vij yerdes quarter di of blake damaske and for a frontlet of golde for the Quene iiij d. and for maing a newe key to the grete standard being in the warderobe of the robys and for mending of boeth lokkes to the same vj d. Sm{a} ----------ij s. viij d.
Itm....the same day to Henry Bryan for xvij yerdes of blake velvet for a gowne for the Quene at x s. vj d. the yerde viij li. xviij s. vj d. Itm for xiij yerdes of blake satten delivered to Johnson for a riding gowne for the Quene at ix s. the yerde C xvij s. Itm for a yerde di quarter of blake velvet for an edge and cuffes for the same gowne at xj s. vj d. the yerde xiij s. Itm for vij yerdes di of blake bokeram for lynyng of the same gowne at ix d. the yerde v s. viij d. ob. Itm for a nayle of sarcenet for fentes for the same gowne iiij d. and for an elle quarter of canvase for lynyng of the same gowne vj d. Sm{a} ----------xv li. xiiij s. xj d. ob.
Itm for xxxvij payre shoes for xxxvij{ti} poure women at the Quenes Maundy at v d. the payre xv s. v d.
Itm....to Cornishe for setting of a carrelle upon Cristmas day in reward ---------- xiij s. iiij d.
Itm....to the children of the Kinges Chappelle in rewarde to theim geven upon Cristmas day xiij s. iiij d. ---------- xiij s. iiij d.
Itm....to the Quenes grace upon the Feest of Saint Stephen for hur disporte at cardes this Cristmas ---------- C s.
Itm....to the keper of the parke of Odiham for bringing of ten does to the Quene to Richemounte on newe yeres even last passed ----------- x s.
Monday, August 16, 2010
In Which I Discover That Some Googlers Have Very Odd Interests
I have a mess o' deadlines to meet this week, none of which are of the least bit interest to anyone who visits this blog. So I may not come back up for air until next week, but in the meantime here's some search terms for you:
hugh despenser susan higginbotham
I don't think Eleanor would like that at all. Or Edward II.
duke of clarence orgy
What type of website do you think I run? Really.
susan higginbotham dietitian
Krispy Kreme doughnuts, sausage pizza, Coca-Cola, sausage biscuits, bagels, spaghetti, GummiSavers, McDonald's fish sandwiches. Have I got all of the major food groups in there?
beauchamp pageant book - why
Everyone needs a hobby.
hugh defoot became king after foot cut off
After which, of course, he became known as hugh deking. Life offers some compensations.
was richard neville warwick the kingmaker a wife beater
No, or he would have been known as Warwick the Wifebeater. These things are really quite ridiculously simple if you just think about them.
susan higimbotham tits
I beg your pardon?
susan higginbotham novels
That's more like it, buster.
margaret of anjou she wolf
elizabeth woodville witch
Now, ladies, it could be worse. At least no one is Googling about your t*ts.
hugh despenser susan higginbotham
I don't think Eleanor would like that at all. Or Edward II.
duke of clarence orgy
What type of website do you think I run? Really.
susan higginbotham dietitian
Krispy Kreme doughnuts, sausage pizza, Coca-Cola, sausage biscuits, bagels, spaghetti, GummiSavers, McDonald's fish sandwiches. Have I got all of the major food groups in there?
beauchamp pageant book - why
Everyone needs a hobby.
hugh defoot became king after foot cut off
After which, of course, he became known as hugh deking. Life offers some compensations.
was richard neville warwick the kingmaker a wife beater
No, or he would have been known as Warwick the Wifebeater. These things are really quite ridiculously simple if you just think about them.
susan higimbotham tits
I beg your pardon?
susan higginbotham novels
That's more like it, buster.
margaret of anjou she wolf
elizabeth woodville witch
Now, ladies, it could be worse. At least no one is Googling about your t*ts.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Guest Blog: Richard Warren Field
Richard Warren Field is the author of The Swords of Faith, a novel told from the points of view of Richard the Lionheart, and Saladin. Visit his website here and his blog here. Thanks for guest posting, Richard!
Two new major releases about the crusades came out within about a month of each other earlier this year. My thanks to Susan Higginbotham for inviting me on her blog to discuss these books, books about one of the most significant and controversial aspects of the medieval period.
The two books are Holy Warriors by Jonathan Phillips and The Crusades by Thomas Asbridge. The questions that surely come to mind immediately are: “Two books? One is over 400 pages and the second over 600 pages? Please, please tell us, which one should we choose?” The answer is that if you are interested in this subject, you should choose both. (Sorry—yes, both.) Of course, there is some overlap. But there is much material unique to one and not the other; the books complement each other and help reinforce mastery of the subject.
Holy Warriors/Jonathan Phillips. Jonathan Phillips will be familiar to watchers of the History Channel, where he has contributed to their documentaries. I found his contributions to the recent documentary about Robin Hood, offered in cooperation with the director and some of the actors in the recent Ridley Scott movie “Robin Hood,” to be consistently insightful and accurate, in contrast to some of the silly statements made by actor Russell Crowe. In his book, Phillips follows the conventional chronology, but takes some detours into less traveled subjects. He writes an extended chapter about Queen Melisende subtitled “A Woman of Unusual Wisdom and Discretion.” She was a woman who successfully exercised power at a time when women were considered to be the subordinate gender. She showed the talent and ability to enforce her will, with objectives and strategic thinking often superior that of the males who contested her ideas. This chapter elevates Queen Melisende into Eleanor of Aquitaine territory (a generation or two before Eleanor); Queen Melisende might very well make a great subject for a historical novel! (Actually, my research at Amazon shows that Judith Tarr’s Queen of Swords may have covered this territory back in 1997. But, who says there can't be more than one?)
Phillips also spends time offering a more nuanced look at the Fourth Crusade, the “crusade” that ended with western Christians sacking Constantinople and taking control of the Byzantine Empire. This is often portrayed as one of the most shameful episodes of the crusades period, an example of the mercenary bloodlust of western Christians run amuck. Philips takes the time to detail the facts which reveal a series of sad miscalculations, along with some questionable characters making promises they could not possibly keep (“Prince Alexius,” pretender to the Byzantine imperial throne, is the chief culprit meeting this description, though his promises should no doubt have been better scrutinized by the western Christians relying on them). After reading this account, we understand how such a strange and unfortunate outcome evolved, and we discover some of the vilified do not deserve all of the enmity history has heaped on them.
After his conventional chronological treatment of the subject, Phillips spends the last fourth of the book looking at how the crusades, and the crusading concept, moved through history to the present day. A highlight of the material is a balanced, informative discussion of “jihad” and its evolution as a religious and political/military concept.
The Crusades/Thomas Asbridge. Asbridge offers us a comprehensive, smoothly written historical narrative that captures the important details and strives to avoid extremes of interpretation. How does Asbridge accomplish this in a mere 600-plus pages when the same task took Steven Runciman three volumes, and more recently Christopher Tyerman nearly 1000 pages? First, Asbridge stays almost completely in the Middle East, and within the period between
1095 and 1291. Other books address the crusading concept transplanted to Europe (the crusade against the Cathars during the early 13th Century and the campaigns of the Teutonic knights in eastern Europe during the 13th and 14th Centuries), and at “crusades” declared after 1291—Asbridge does not. He also spends little time on the Fourth Crusade. (This is an example of how these books complement each other—Phillips spends considerable time on this, as I discuss above.) But that is consistent with his approach, as none of the action in the Fourth Crusade occurred in the Middle East, and in its essence, this involved an internal Christian conflict, not a conflict between Muslim and Christian forces. Also, Asbridge spends the bulk of the book on the first three crusades, with excellent narrative histories of all of them, including the story of Richard the Lionheart and Saladin, a subject near and dear to my heart, as my recently released novel The Swords of Faith is about that confrontation.
What Asbridge offers is a clear, easy-to-follow storyline for these events, distilled from the many source materials available. He also strives to express balanced interpretations of events. He gives us a picture of Saladin that retains Saladin’s admirable qualities while arguing against his over-glorification. He offers the idea that Saladin did not become a committed religious warrior until after a serious illness in late 1185/early 1186, an illness bringing him so close to death that he dictated his will. And Asbridge argues against the current depictions in the popular culture of Richard the Lionheart as a militarily adept bloodthirsty brute who was otherwise unsophisticated. He offers clear evidence of Richard’s abilities beyond super-warrior.
*****
So the choice should be to buy and read both of these books. That’s what I did, and I found that both books, with the insightful excursions of Jonathan Phillips in Holy Warriors, and the comprehensive, flowing narratives of Thomas Asbridge in The Crusades brought me entertaining insights into a historical period that is still invoked today by people involved in the most pressing issues of our times.
Two new major releases about the crusades came out within about a month of each other earlier this year. My thanks to Susan Higginbotham for inviting me on her blog to discuss these books, books about one of the most significant and controversial aspects of the medieval period.
The two books are Holy Warriors by Jonathan Phillips and The Crusades by Thomas Asbridge. The questions that surely come to mind immediately are: “Two books? One is over 400 pages and the second over 600 pages? Please, please tell us, which one should we choose?” The answer is that if you are interested in this subject, you should choose both. (Sorry—yes, both.) Of course, there is some overlap. But there is much material unique to one and not the other; the books complement each other and help reinforce mastery of the subject.
Holy Warriors/Jonathan Phillips. Jonathan Phillips will be familiar to watchers of the History Channel, where he has contributed to their documentaries. I found his contributions to the recent documentary about Robin Hood, offered in cooperation with the director and some of the actors in the recent Ridley Scott movie “Robin Hood,” to be consistently insightful and accurate, in contrast to some of the silly statements made by actor Russell Crowe. In his book, Phillips follows the conventional chronology, but takes some detours into less traveled subjects. He writes an extended chapter about Queen Melisende subtitled “A Woman of Unusual Wisdom and Discretion.” She was a woman who successfully exercised power at a time when women were considered to be the subordinate gender. She showed the talent and ability to enforce her will, with objectives and strategic thinking often superior that of the males who contested her ideas. This chapter elevates Queen Melisende into Eleanor of Aquitaine territory (a generation or two before Eleanor); Queen Melisende might very well make a great subject for a historical novel! (Actually, my research at Amazon shows that Judith Tarr’s Queen of Swords may have covered this territory back in 1997. But, who says there can't be more than one?)
Phillips also spends time offering a more nuanced look at the Fourth Crusade, the “crusade” that ended with western Christians sacking Constantinople and taking control of the Byzantine Empire. This is often portrayed as one of the most shameful episodes of the crusades period, an example of the mercenary bloodlust of western Christians run amuck. Philips takes the time to detail the facts which reveal a series of sad miscalculations, along with some questionable characters making promises they could not possibly keep (“Prince Alexius,” pretender to the Byzantine imperial throne, is the chief culprit meeting this description, though his promises should no doubt have been better scrutinized by the western Christians relying on them). After reading this account, we understand how such a strange and unfortunate outcome evolved, and we discover some of the vilified do not deserve all of the enmity history has heaped on them.
After his conventional chronological treatment of the subject, Phillips spends the last fourth of the book looking at how the crusades, and the crusading concept, moved through history to the present day. A highlight of the material is a balanced, informative discussion of “jihad” and its evolution as a religious and political/military concept.
The Crusades/Thomas Asbridge. Asbridge offers us a comprehensive, smoothly written historical narrative that captures the important details and strives to avoid extremes of interpretation. How does Asbridge accomplish this in a mere 600-plus pages when the same task took Steven Runciman three volumes, and more recently Christopher Tyerman nearly 1000 pages? First, Asbridge stays almost completely in the Middle East, and within the period between
1095 and 1291. Other books address the crusading concept transplanted to Europe (the crusade against the Cathars during the early 13th Century and the campaigns of the Teutonic knights in eastern Europe during the 13th and 14th Centuries), and at “crusades” declared after 1291—Asbridge does not. He also spends little time on the Fourth Crusade. (This is an example of how these books complement each other—Phillips spends considerable time on this, as I discuss above.) But that is consistent with his approach, as none of the action in the Fourth Crusade occurred in the Middle East, and in its essence, this involved an internal Christian conflict, not a conflict between Muslim and Christian forces. Also, Asbridge spends the bulk of the book on the first three crusades, with excellent narrative histories of all of them, including the story of Richard the Lionheart and Saladin, a subject near and dear to my heart, as my recently released novel The Swords of Faith is about that confrontation.
What Asbridge offers is a clear, easy-to-follow storyline for these events, distilled from the many source materials available. He also strives to express balanced interpretations of events. He gives us a picture of Saladin that retains Saladin’s admirable qualities while arguing against his over-glorification. He offers the idea that Saladin did not become a committed religious warrior until after a serious illness in late 1185/early 1186, an illness bringing him so close to death that he dictated his will. And Asbridge argues against the current depictions in the popular culture of Richard the Lionheart as a militarily adept bloodthirsty brute who was otherwise unsophisticated. He offers clear evidence of Richard’s abilities beyond super-warrior.
*****
So the choice should be to buy and read both of these books. That’s what I did, and I found that both books, with the insightful excursions of Jonathan Phillips in Holy Warriors, and the comprehensive, flowing narratives of Thomas Asbridge in The Crusades brought me entertaining insights into a historical period that is still invoked today by people involved in the most pressing issues of our times.
Monday, August 09, 2010
Henry Stafford's Will, and a Note From Your Blogger
As those of you who have read Philippa Gregory's new novel know, Margaret Beaufort's second husband, Henry Stafford, is a prominent character there. (He also has a speaking part in my own novel The Stolen Crown, as he is the uncle to its hero, Harry, Duke of Buckingham.) Here is an abstract of his will, found in Testamenta Vetusta, available on Google Books. A transcript of the complete will can be found in The Logge Register of PCC Wills, 1479 to 1486, edited by Lesley Boatwright, Moira Habberjam, and Peter Hammond. Note that "my son-in-law the Earl of Richmond" was Stafford's stepson, the future Henry VII. In the complete version of the will, Henry Stafford refers to Margaret as his "beloved wife" no fewer than four times.
Henry Stafford died on October 4, 1471, two days after writing his will. He had made an earlier will before the Battle of Barnet, as Michael Jones and Malcolm Underwood note, specifying "my body to be buried wher it shall best ples god that I dye." Stafford survived the battle with wounds and lived to write a new will, but his wounds likely led to his death a few months after Barnet.
And now for a word from your blogger. As I mentioned a while back, my novel in progress deals with the Tudors, although I'm not at liberty to disclose the exact subject yet. As I become more wrapped up in my research for that novel, I'll be blogging more about sixteenth-century topics than medieval topics, but I hope all of you will stay around for the ride! Don't be scared off by the "T" word: there's a whole array of fascinating people here besides Henry VIII and his wives, and I'll be telling some of their stories in months to come.
Henry Stafford died on October 4, 1471, two days after writing his will. He had made an earlier will before the Battle of Barnet, as Michael Jones and Malcolm Underwood note, specifying "my body to be buried wher it shall best ples god that I dye." Stafford survived the battle with wounds and lived to write a new will, but his wounds likely led to his death a few months after Barnet.
Harry Stafford, Knight, son to the noble Prince Humphrey, late Duke of Bucks, October 2d, 1471. My body to be buried in the College of Plecye. To buy xii marks worth of livelode by year, to be amortized for the finding of an honest and fitting priest to sing for my soul in the said college for evermore Clxl. ; to my son-in-law the Earl of Richmond, a trappur, four new horse harness of velvet; to my brother John Earl of Wiltshire, my bay courser; to Reynold Bray, my Receiver General, my grizzled horse; I bequeath the rest of my goods to my beloved wife Margaret Countess of Richmond, whom I likewise constitute my executrix. Proved May 4th, 1482.
And now for a word from your blogger. As I mentioned a while back, my novel in progress deals with the Tudors, although I'm not at liberty to disclose the exact subject yet. As I become more wrapped up in my research for that novel, I'll be blogging more about sixteenth-century topics than medieval topics, but I hope all of you will stay around for the ride! Don't be scared off by the "T" word: there's a whole array of fascinating people here besides Henry VIII and his wives, and I'll be telling some of their stories in months to come.
Thursday, August 05, 2010
Yes, I Bought The Red Queen the First Day It Came Out
In fact, I went shopping for Philippa Gregory's latest novel so early in the morning that Barnes and Noble barely had its display ready! What can I say--I'm a Wars of the Roses novel junkie.
First, despite its title, The Red Queen is not about Margaret of Anjou, but about Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond, mother of Henry VII. (For some reason, no one in the novel ever addresses Margaret as the Countess of Richmond, though records from the time refer to her as such, and she herself seems to be unaware that she holds that title through her first marriage to Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond. I found this odd, because Margaret as depicted here is not a woman to forget the fact that she has a title.)
Margaret, as those of you who have read the early reviews know, is convinced from early childhood that she is chosen by God to do great things, just like Joan of Arc. When she bears her only child, Henry Tudor, she becomes equally convinced that her God-granted destiny is to put her son on the throne. For those who do not share her conviction--which amounts to just about everyone--Margaret has nothing but scorn.
First, the bad news: there are some odd historical errors here. Gregory pushes the 1469 Battle of Edgecote into 1470, making it the event that restores Henry VI to the throne, and she has Elizabeth Woodville give up the Duke of York before, instead of after, Hastings is executed. (I suppose Gregory might have been following the theory that Hastings was executed on June 20 instead of June 13, but that theory has been discredited for some time.) These chronological errors don't make much difference in the greater scheme of things, but they will distract and annoy anyone who's done more than cursory research into this period. I also found it highly unlikely that Margaret and the other characters would repeatedly exchange letters detailing their treasonous thoughts and schemes, as they do here; they might as well have drawn lines on their necks reading "CUT HERE."
Despite those reservations, I did enjoy this novel. Telling a first-person story through an essentially unlikable narrator is a tough job, and Gregory does it very well here. Margaret's snide remarks about the other characters made me laugh out loud at several points, one of my favorites being her comment about Katherine Woodville: "a girl born and bred only to raise hens in Northampton." There are some rather droll moments, such as when the widowed Margaret canvasses her possible future husbands and sets her cap at Richard, Duke of Gloucester, only to find that the unsuspecting prospective groom has foiled her plans by marrying Anne Neville. Despite being seen through the eyes of the obtuse and insensitive Margaret, several of the supporting characters are quite sympathetic, particularly Henry Stafford, Margaret's sardonic, war-weary second husband, and Jasper Tudor, Margaret's loyal brother-in-law. Henry Stafford's death was quite moving, and Jasper's scenes with his baby nephew were quite sweet. Margaret's cynical, opportunistic third husband, Thomas Stanley, is the perfect foil for Margaret, without being a cardboard villain. He did much to keep the latter third of the novel, which recounts the very familiar events of 1483 to 1485, moving along at a brisk pace. Elizabeth of York makes a brief appearance, but one that's long enough to inform the reader that she is no fool. As for Margaret herself, although I don't share Gregory's view of the historical Margaret Beaufort, I didn't find her characterization here implausible, grossly unfair, or one-dimensional, as I have in some novels where Margaret is depicted as a fiend who does everything but cackle, "I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!"
All in all, I found this a diverting and enjoyable read about a woman who's been relatively neglected in historical fiction.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Summer Search Terms!
Some search terms for July for my website and for Historical Fiction Online:
how long can you be in a funeral home before being burryd in england
If you have to ask, it's probably time to start digging.
medievil games of cance
You pays your money and you lose your aitches.
why was elizabeth woodville not elizabeth i
Because wearing that ruff itched too much.
wife of a traitor
So close . . . So close. Just make it into a possessive and put a "The" in front of it, please.
video of kittens dressed in viking outfits to the tune of the immigrant
I really hope they found this one.
i just want to buy sunne in splendour for my sony reader
If this isn't a cry of anguish, I don't know what is.
how can medieval help a country
Well, it certainly can't hurt.
what s the difference between toe rings and finger rings?
If I were this person, I might want to rethink my lifelong dream of winning big on "Jeopardy."
medieval films of sex
Sadly, all of the known medieval sex films were destroyed in the Great Fire of London. But at least we have the kittens in Viking outfits to watch.
how long can you be in a funeral home before being burryd in england
If you have to ask, it's probably time to start digging.
medievil games of cance
You pays your money and you lose your aitches.
why was elizabeth woodville not elizabeth i
Because wearing that ruff itched too much.
wife of a traitor
So close . . . So close. Just make it into a possessive and put a "The" in front of it, please.
video of kittens dressed in viking outfits to the tune of the immigrant
I really hope they found this one.
i just want to buy sunne in splendour for my sony reader
If this isn't a cry of anguish, I don't know what is.
how can medieval help a country
Well, it certainly can't hurt.
what s the difference between toe rings and finger rings?
If I were this person, I might want to rethink my lifelong dream of winning big on "Jeopardy."
medieval films of sex
Sadly, all of the known medieval sex films were destroyed in the Great Fire of London. But at least we have the kittens in Viking outfits to watch.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
The Will of Cecily, Duchess of York
Here's another will for you: that of Cecily, Duchess of York. Cecily signed her will on May 31, 1495, at her home of Berkhamsted Castle, a few days before her death. Her will appears in Wills From Doctors' Commons, edited by John Gough Nichols and John Bruce and available on Google Books.
Cecily's will takes up eight pages and is printed in a single paragraph. I have taken the liberty of breaking down the bequests into paragraphs to make it more readable.
Of the religious goods that Cecily gives so generously, an "abe" was an "alb," a type of vestment. Likewise, I believe that "tencule" means "tunicle," which is also a vestment. "Fanons" were strips of material worn on the left wrist.
A "dymysent" is a type of girdle; Henry VI gave the pregnant Margaret of Anjou one in 1453.
Cecily twice refers to her husband as being the father of Edward IV: a mere form of words, or perhaps a quiet refutation of the rumors that Edward IV was illegitimate? Wisely, Cecily makes no mention of her other royal son, Richard III.
It's interesting to see which family members received bequests. All of Cecily's granddaughters through Edward IV--the queen, Bridget (a nun), Cecily, Anne, and Katherine--were remembered. The duchess's two grandchildren by George, Duke of Clarence, aren't named: Cecily might have thought it unwise to leave anything to her grandson Edward, Earl of Warwick, imprisoned in the Tower, but his sister Margaret was married to Richard Pole, who enjoyed royal favor. Some of Cecily's de la Pole grandchildren were given bequests, despite the fact that their brother John de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln, had been killed rebelling against Henry VII a few years before. Left out too was Anne St. Leger, daughter of the deceased Duchess of Exeter and Thomas St. Leger. Anne St. Leger was married to George Manners, not a controversial figure. Perhaps Cecily left bequests only to those grandchildren to whom she was close, or perhaps she had been generous to the omitted grandchildren during her lifetime and had no need to remember them in her will.
As Ian Arthurson notes in The Perkin Warbeck Conspiracy, Richard Lessy, Cecily's steward, was involved in the conspiracy; the "charges which he has to pay to the Kinges grace" referred to by Cecily were the 200 pound fine he had to pay for his royal pardon. Arthurson also suggests that Anne Lounde might have been connected with Warbeck's chancellor, William Lounde. Richard Boyville, also named, had connections with Cecily's daughter Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy, who had been heavily involved in the conspiracy. Does this mean, as some have suggested, that Cecily herself was a participant? I find it unlikely; if Cecily indeed had been involved, flaunting her ties to Lessy and the others in her will would only irritate Henry VII, who could have interfered with Cecily's cherished hope of being buried at Fotheringhay beside her husband.
Cecily was indeed buried at Fotheringhay. On a visit there, Elizabeth I, distressed at the neglect of the graves of her ancestors, ordered that the bodies be moved into the present church and that monuments be erected over them. Cecily's coffin was opened for the removal, revealing that she had been buried with a papal indulgence tied around her neck with a silver ribbon. The handwriting on the indulgence was "as fair and fresh as if it had been written yesterday."
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In the name of allmyghty God, the blessed Trinite, fader and son and the holigost, trusting in the meanes and mediacions of oure blessed Lady Moder, of oure most blessed Saviour Jh'u Crist, and by the intercession of holy Saint John Baptist, and all the saintes of heven: I, Cecille, wife unto the right noble prince Richard late Duke of Yorke, fader unto the most cristen prince my Lord and son King Edward the iiijth, the first day of Aprill the yere of our Lord M.cccc.lxxxxv. after the computacion of the Church of Englond, of hole mynde and body, loving therfore be it to Jh'u, make and ordeigne my testament in fourme and maner ensuyng. Furst, I bequeath and surrendour my soule in to the mcrcifull handes of allmyghty God my maker, and in to protecion of the blessed virgin our lady Saint Mary, and suffrage of Saint John Baptist, and of all other saintes of heven. Also my body to be buried beside the body of my moost entierly best beloved Lord and housbond, fader unto my said lorde and son, and in his tumbe within the collegiate church of Fodringhay, if myn executours by the sufferaunce of the King finde goode sufficient therto; and elles at the Kinges pleasure. And I will that after my deceasse all my dettes sufficiently appering and proved be paid, thanking oure Lord at this tyme of making of this my testament to the knolege of my conscience I am not muche in dctt; and if it happen, as I trust to God it shalnot, that there be not found sufficient money aswell to pay my dettes as to enture my body, than in advoiding such charges as myght growe for the same, the whiche God defende, I lymytte and assigne all such parcelles of plate as belongith to my chapell, pantry, cellour, ewry, and squillery, to the perfourinyng of the same, as apperith in the inventary, except such plate as I have bequeithed.
Also I geve and bequeith to the Kinges noble grace all such money as is owing to me of the customes, and two cuppes of gold. Also I geve and bequeith to the Quene a crosse croslette of diamantes, a sawter with claspes of silver and guilte enameled covered with grene clothe of golde, and a pix with the fleshe of Saint Cristofer. Also I bequeith to my lady the Kinges moder a portuos with claspes of gold covered with blackc cloth of golde. Also I geve to my lord Prince [Arthur] a bedde of arres of the Whele of Fortune and testour of the same, a counterpoint of arras, and a tappett of arres with the pope. Also I geve to my lord Henry Duke of Yorke [later Henry VIII] three tappettes of arres, oon of them of the life of Saint John Baptist, another of Mary Maudeleyn, and the thirde of the passion of our Lord and Saint George.
And if my body be buried at Fodringhay in the colege there with my most entierly best beloved lord and housbond, than I geve to the said colege a square canapie of crymeson clothe of gold with iiij. staves, twoo auter clothes of crymeson clothe of gold, twoo copes of crymeson clothe of gold, a chesibull and twoo tenucles of crymyson clothe of gold, with iij. abes, twoo auter clothes of crymeson damaske browdered, a chesibull, twoo tenucles, and iij. copes of blewe velwett brodered, with iij. abes, thre masse bokes, thre grayles, and vij. processioners. Also I geve to the colege of Stoke Clare a chesibull and twoo tenucles of playn crymyson cloth of gold with iij. abes, twoo auter clothes, a chesibull, twoo tenucles, and fyve coopes of white damaske browdered, with iij. abes, twoo awter clothes of crymeson velwett upon the velwete {sic), a vestement of crymeson playne velvet, iiij. antiphoners, iiij. grayles, and sixe processioners. Also I geve to the house of Sion two of the best coopes of crymyson clothe of gold.
Also I geve to my doughter Brigitte [daughter of Edward IV] the boke of Legenda Aurea in velem, a boke of the life of Saint Kateryn of Sene, a boke of Saint Matilde. Also I geve to my doughter Cecill [daughter of Edward IV] a portuous with claspes silver and gilte covered with purple velvet, and a grete portuous without note. Also I geve to my doughter Anne [daughter of Edward IV] the largest bedde of bawdekyn, withe countrepoint of the same, the barge with bailles, tilde, and ores belonging to the same. Also I geve to my doughter Kateryn [daughter of Edward IV] a traves of blewe satten. Also I geve to my doughter of Suffolke [identified by the editors as either Cecily's daughter Elizabeth, Duchess of Suffolk, or Margaret, wife of Edmund de la Pole] the chare with the coveryng, all the quoshons, horses, and harneys belonging to the same, and all my palfreys. Also I geve to my son of Suffolke [Edmund de la Pole] a clothe of estate and iij. quoschons of purpull damaske cloth of gold. Also I geve to my son Humfrey [de la Pole] two awter clothes of blewe damaske brawdered and a vestyment of crymeson satten for Jh'us masse. Also I geve to my son William [de la Pole; misidentified by the editors, who were unaware of this grandson's existence, as William Stourton] a traves of white sarcenet, twoo beddes of downe, and twoo bolsters to the same. Also I geve to my doughter Anne [de la Pole], priores of Sion, a boke of Bonaventure and Hilton in the same in Englishe, and a boke of the Revelacions of Saint Burgitte.
Also I woll that all my plate not bequeithed be sold, and the money thereof be putte to the use of my burying, that is to sey, in discharging of suche costes and expensis as shalbe for carying of my body from the castell of Barkehampstede unto the colege of Fodringhey. And if any of the said plate be lefte unexpended I woll the said colege have it. Also I geve to the colege of saint Antonies in London an antiphoner with the ruelles of musik in the later ynd. Also I geve unto Master Richard Lessy all suche money as is owing unto me by obligations what soever they be, and also all such money as is owing unto me by the Shirfe of Yorkeshire, to helpe to bere his charges which he has to pay to the Kinges grace, trusting he shall the rather nyghe the said dettes by the help and socour of his said grace. Also I geve to Master William Croxston a chesibull, stoles, and fanons of blake velwett, with an abe. Also I geve to Master Richard Henmershe a chesibill, stoles, and fanons of crymyson damaske, with an abe; and a chesibill, stoles and fanons of crymeson saten, with an abe. Also I geve to Sir John More a frontell of purpull cloth of gold, a legend boke, and a colett boke. Also I give to Sir Randall Brantingham a chesibill, stoles, and fanons of white damaske, orfreys of crymson velvet, with an abe, the better of bothe. Also I geve to Sir William Grave a chesibill, stoles, and fanons of white damaske, orfreys of crymeson velvett, with an abe; a masse-boke that servith for the closett, a prymour with claspes silver and gilt, covered with blewe velvett, and a sawter that servith for the closett covered with white ledder.
Also I geve to Sir John Blotte a gospell boke, a pistill covered with ledder, and a case for a corporax of grene playne velvett. Also I geve to Sir Thomas Clerk a chesibill, twoo tenucles, stoles, fanons, of rede bawdeken, with iij. abes. Also I geve to Sir William Tiler twoo coopes of rede bawdekyn. Also I geve to Robert Claver iij. copes of white damaske brawdered, and a gowne of the Duchie facion of playne blake velvett furred with ermyns. Also I geve to John Bury twoo old copes of crymysyn satten cloth of gold, a frontell of white bawdekyn, twoo curteyns of rede sarcenett fringed, twoo curteyns of whit sarcenet fringed, a feder bed, a bolstour to the same, the best of feders, and two whit spervers of lynyn. Also I geve to John Poule twoo auter clothes, a chesibull, twoo tenucles, stoles, and fanons of white bawdekyn, with iij. abes; a short gowne of purple playne velvett furred with ermyns, the better of ij. and a kirtill of damaske with andelettes of silver and gilt furred. Also I geve to John Smyth twoo auter clothes, a chesibill, twoo tenucles, stoles, and fanons of blew bawdekyn, with iij. abes. Also I geve to John Bury twoo copes of crymysyn clothe of gold that servith for Sondays.
Also I geve to John Walter a case for corporax of purple plaync velvett, twoo cases for corporax of blewe bawdekyn, twoo auter clothes, a chesibill of rede and grene bawdekyn, a canapie of white sarcenett, iij. abes for children, and iiij. pair of parrours of white bawdekyn, twoo pair parrours of crymsyn velvett, twoo pair parrours of rede bawdekyn, a housling towell that servith for my selfe, twoo corteyns of blewe sarcenett fringed, a sudory of crymysyn and white, the egges blak, a crose cloth and a cloth of Saint John Baptist of sarcenett painted, a long lantorn, a dext standing doble, twoo grete stondardes and ij. litill cofers. Also I geve to John Peitwynne twoo vestimentes of white damaske, a white bedde of lynnyn, a federbedde and a bolstour, and a short gowne of purple playne velvet furred with sabilles. Also I geve to Thomas Lentall six auter clothes of white sarcenett, with crosses of crymsyn velvet Also I geve to John Long iij. peces of bawdekyn of the lengur sorte.
Also I geve to Sir [John] Verney knighte and Margarett his wiffe a crosse [of] silver and guilte and berall, and in the same a pece of the holy crosse and other diverse reliques. Also I geve to Dame Jane Pesemershe, widue, myne Inne that is called the George in Grauntham, during terme of her life; and after her decesse I woll that the reversion therof be unto the college of Fodringhay for evermore, to find a prest to pray for my Lord my housbond and me. Also I geve to Nicholas Talbott and Jane his wife a spone of gold with a sharp diamount in the ende, a dymysent of gold with a collumbine and a diamont in the same, a guirdill of blewe tissue harnessed with gold, a guirdill of gold with a bokull and a pendaunt and iiij. barres of gold, a hoke of gold with iij. roses, a pomeamber of gold garnesshed with a diamont, sex rubies and sex perles, and the surnap and towell to the same.
Also I geve to Richard Boyvile and Gresild his wife my charrett and the horses with the harnes that belongith therunto, a gowne with a dymy trayn of purpull saten furred with ermyns, a shorte gowne of purple saten furred with jennetes, a kirtill of white damaske with aundelettes silver and gilte, a spone of gold, a dymysynt of gold with a columbyne garnesshed with a diamant, a saphour, an amatist, and viij. perles, a pomeamber of gold enameled, a litell boxe with a cover of gold and a diamant in the toppe.
Also I geve to Richard Brocas and Jane his wife a long gown of purpull velvett upon velvet furred with ermyns, a greate Agnus of gold with the Trinite, Saint Erasmus, and the Salutacion of our Lady; an Agnus of gold with our Lady and Saint Barbara; a litell goblett with a cover silver and part guild; a pair of bedes of white amber gauded with vj. grete stones of gold, part aneled, with a pair of bedes of x. stones of gold and v. of corall; a cofor with a rounde lidde bonde with iron, which the said Jane hath in her keping, and all other thinges that she hath in charge of keping.
Also I geve to Anne Pinchbeke all other myne Agnus unbequeithed, that is to sey, ten of the Trinite, a litell malmesey pott with a cover silver and parte guilte, a possenett with a cover of silver, a short gowne of playne russett velvett furred with sabilles, a short gowne of playne blewe velvett furred with sabilles, a short gowne of purple playn velvet furred with grey, a tester, a siler, and a countrepoint of bawdekyn, the lesser of ij.
Also I geve to Jane Lessy a dymysent of gold with a roos, garnisshed with twoo rubies, a guirdell of purple tissue with a broken bokull, and a broken pendaunt silver and guilte, a guirdill of white riband with twoo claspes of gold with a columbyne, a guirdell of blewe riband with a bokell and a pendaunt of gold, a litell pair of bedes of white amber gaudied with vij. stones of gold, an haliwater stope with a strynkkill silver and gilte, and a laier silver and part guilte.
Also I geve to John Metcalfe and Alice his wife all the ringes that I have, except such as hang by my bedes and Agnus, and also except my signet, a litell boxe of golde with a cover of golde, a pair of bedes of lxj. rounde stones of golde gaudied with sex square stones of golde enemeled, with a crosse of golde, twoo other stones, and a scalop shele of geete honging by.
Also I geve to Anne Lownde a litell bokull and a litell pendaunt of golde for a guirdill, a litell guirdell of golde and silke with a bokill and a pendaunt of golde, a guirdell of white riband with aggelettes of golde enameled, a hoke of golde playne, a broken hoke of golde enameled, and a litell rounde bottumed basyn of silver.
Also I geve to the house of Assherugge a chesibull and ij. tenucles of crymysyn damaske embrawdered, with thre abes. Also I geve to the house of Saint Margaretes twoo auter clothes with a crucifix and a vestiment of grete velvet. Also I geve to the parish church of Stoundon a coope of blewe bawdekyn, the orffreys embrawdered. Also I geve to the parishe church of Much Barkehampstede a coope of blewe bawdekyn, the orffreys embrawdered. Also I geve to the parish church of Compton by sides Guilford a corporax case of blake cloth of gold and iiij. auter clothes of white sarcenett embrawdered with garters.
Also I geve to Alisaunder Cressencr my best bedde of downe and a bolster to the same. Also I geve to Sir Henry Haidon knyght a tablett and a cristall garnesshed with ix. stones and xxvij. perles, lacking a stone and iij. perles. Also I geve to Gervase Cressy a long gown of playn blewe velvet furred with sabilles. Also I geve to Edward Delahay twoo gownes of musterdevilers furred with mynckes, and iiij li of money. Also I geve to Thomas Manory a short gowne of crymesyn playn velvet lyned, purfilled with blake velvet, and iiij li in money. Also I geve to John Broune all such stuf as belongith to the kechyn in his keping at my place at Baynardcastell in London, and iiij li in money. Also I geve to William Whitington a short gown of russett cloth furred with matrons and calabour wombes, a kirtill of purpull silke chamblett with awndelettes silver and gilte, all such floures of brawdery werke and the cofer that they be kept in, and xls. in money.
Also I geve to all other gentilmen that be daily a waiting in my houshold with Mr. Richard Cressy and Robert Lichingham everich of theime iiij li in money. Also I geve to every yoman that be daily ad waiting in my houshold with John Otley xls. in money. Also I geve to every grome of myne xxvj s. viij d. in money. And to every page of myne xiij s. iiij d. in money. Also I geve to Robert Harison xls. in money and all the gootes.
And if ther be no money founde in my cofers to perfourme this my will and bequest, than I will that myne executours, that is to sey the reverend fader in God Master Olyver King bisshop of Bath, Sir Reignolde Bray knight, Sir Thomas Lovell, councellours to the Kinges grace, Master William Pikinham doctour in degrees dean of the colege of Stoke Clare, Master William Felde master of the colege of Fodringhey, and Master Bichard Lessy dean of my chapell, havyng God in reverence and drede, unto whome I geve full power and auctorite to execute this my will and testament, make money of such goodes as I have not geven and bequeithed, and with the same to content my dettes and perfourme this my will and testament. And the foresaid reverend fader in God, Sir Rignold Bray knyght, Sir Thomas Lovell knyght, Master William Pikenham, and Master William Felde, to be rewarded of suche thinges as shalbe delivered unto theme by my commaundement by the hondes of Sir Henry Haidon knyght stieward of my houshold and Master Richard Lessy, humbly beseching the Kinges habundant grace in whome is my singuler trust to name such supervisour as shalbe willing and favorabull diligently to se that this my present testament and will be perfittely executed and perfourmyd, gevyng full power also to my said executours to levey and receyve all my dettes due and owing unto me at the day of my dethe, as well of my receyvours as of all other officers, except such dettes as I have geven and bequeathed unto Master Richard Lessy aforesaid, as is above specified in this present will and testament. And if that Master Richard Lessy cannot recover such money as I have geven to hym of the Shirfles of Yorkeshire and of my obligacions, than I will he be recompensed of the revenues of my landes to the sume of v c. marcs at the leest.
In Wittenesse Herof I have setto my signet and signemanuell at my castell of Berkehamstede the last day of May the yere of our Lord abovesaid, being present Master Richard Lessy, Sir William Grant my confessour, Richard Brocas clerc of my kechyn, and Gervays Cressy.
Proved at " Lamehithe" the 27th day of August, A.d. 1495, and commission granted to Master Richard Lessy the executor in the said will mentioned to administer, &c. &c.
Sources:
Ian Arthurson, The Perkin Warbeck Conspiracy, 1491-1499. Sutton Publishing, 1997.
Edward Bradley, Fotheringhay and Mary, Queen of Scots by Cuthbert Bede. 1885. On Google Books.
Christopher Harper-Bill, ‘Cecily, duchess of York (1415–1495)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, online edn, Oxford University Press, Sept 2004 [http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/50231, accessed 29 July 2010]
John Gough Nichols and John Bruce, Wills from Doctors' Commons. Camden Society, 1863. On Google Books.
Cecily's will takes up eight pages and is printed in a single paragraph. I have taken the liberty of breaking down the bequests into paragraphs to make it more readable.
Of the religious goods that Cecily gives so generously, an "abe" was an "alb," a type of vestment. Likewise, I believe that "tencule" means "tunicle," which is also a vestment. "Fanons" were strips of material worn on the left wrist.
A "dymysent" is a type of girdle; Henry VI gave the pregnant Margaret of Anjou one in 1453.
Cecily twice refers to her husband as being the father of Edward IV: a mere form of words, or perhaps a quiet refutation of the rumors that Edward IV was illegitimate? Wisely, Cecily makes no mention of her other royal son, Richard III.
It's interesting to see which family members received bequests. All of Cecily's granddaughters through Edward IV--the queen, Bridget (a nun), Cecily, Anne, and Katherine--were remembered. The duchess's two grandchildren by George, Duke of Clarence, aren't named: Cecily might have thought it unwise to leave anything to her grandson Edward, Earl of Warwick, imprisoned in the Tower, but his sister Margaret was married to Richard Pole, who enjoyed royal favor. Some of Cecily's de la Pole grandchildren were given bequests, despite the fact that their brother John de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln, had been killed rebelling against Henry VII a few years before. Left out too was Anne St. Leger, daughter of the deceased Duchess of Exeter and Thomas St. Leger. Anne St. Leger was married to George Manners, not a controversial figure. Perhaps Cecily left bequests only to those grandchildren to whom she was close, or perhaps she had been generous to the omitted grandchildren during her lifetime and had no need to remember them in her will.
As Ian Arthurson notes in The Perkin Warbeck Conspiracy, Richard Lessy, Cecily's steward, was involved in the conspiracy; the "charges which he has to pay to the Kinges grace" referred to by Cecily were the 200 pound fine he had to pay for his royal pardon. Arthurson also suggests that Anne Lounde might have been connected with Warbeck's chancellor, William Lounde. Richard Boyville, also named, had connections with Cecily's daughter Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy, who had been heavily involved in the conspiracy. Does this mean, as some have suggested, that Cecily herself was a participant? I find it unlikely; if Cecily indeed had been involved, flaunting her ties to Lessy and the others in her will would only irritate Henry VII, who could have interfered with Cecily's cherished hope of being buried at Fotheringhay beside her husband.
Cecily was indeed buried at Fotheringhay. On a visit there, Elizabeth I, distressed at the neglect of the graves of her ancestors, ordered that the bodies be moved into the present church and that monuments be erected over them. Cecily's coffin was opened for the removal, revealing that she had been buried with a papal indulgence tied around her neck with a silver ribbon. The handwriting on the indulgence was "as fair and fresh as if it had been written yesterday."
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In the name of allmyghty God, the blessed Trinite, fader and son and the holigost, trusting in the meanes and mediacions of oure blessed Lady Moder, of oure most blessed Saviour Jh'u Crist, and by the intercession of holy Saint John Baptist, and all the saintes of heven: I, Cecille, wife unto the right noble prince Richard late Duke of Yorke, fader unto the most cristen prince my Lord and son King Edward the iiijth, the first day of Aprill the yere of our Lord M.cccc.lxxxxv. after the computacion of the Church of Englond, of hole mynde and body, loving therfore be it to Jh'u, make and ordeigne my testament in fourme and maner ensuyng. Furst, I bequeath and surrendour my soule in to the mcrcifull handes of allmyghty God my maker, and in to protecion of the blessed virgin our lady Saint Mary, and suffrage of Saint John Baptist, and of all other saintes of heven. Also my body to be buried beside the body of my moost entierly best beloved Lord and housbond, fader unto my said lorde and son, and in his tumbe within the collegiate church of Fodringhay, if myn executours by the sufferaunce of the King finde goode sufficient therto; and elles at the Kinges pleasure. And I will that after my deceasse all my dettes sufficiently appering and proved be paid, thanking oure Lord at this tyme of making of this my testament to the knolege of my conscience I am not muche in dctt; and if it happen, as I trust to God it shalnot, that there be not found sufficient money aswell to pay my dettes as to enture my body, than in advoiding such charges as myght growe for the same, the whiche God defende, I lymytte and assigne all such parcelles of plate as belongith to my chapell, pantry, cellour, ewry, and squillery, to the perfourinyng of the same, as apperith in the inventary, except such plate as I have bequeithed.
Also I geve and bequeith to the Kinges noble grace all such money as is owing to me of the customes, and two cuppes of gold. Also I geve and bequeith to the Quene a crosse croslette of diamantes, a sawter with claspes of silver and guilte enameled covered with grene clothe of golde, and a pix with the fleshe of Saint Cristofer. Also I bequeith to my lady the Kinges moder a portuos with claspes of gold covered with blackc cloth of golde. Also I geve to my lord Prince [Arthur] a bedde of arres of the Whele of Fortune and testour of the same, a counterpoint of arras, and a tappett of arres with the pope. Also I geve to my lord Henry Duke of Yorke [later Henry VIII] three tappettes of arres, oon of them of the life of Saint John Baptist, another of Mary Maudeleyn, and the thirde of the passion of our Lord and Saint George.
And if my body be buried at Fodringhay in the colege there with my most entierly best beloved lord and housbond, than I geve to the said colege a square canapie of crymeson clothe of gold with iiij. staves, twoo auter clothes of crymeson clothe of gold, twoo copes of crymeson clothe of gold, a chesibull and twoo tenucles of crymyson clothe of gold, with iij. abes, twoo auter clothes of crymeson damaske browdered, a chesibull, twoo tenucles, and iij. copes of blewe velwett brodered, with iij. abes, thre masse bokes, thre grayles, and vij. processioners. Also I geve to the colege of Stoke Clare a chesibull and twoo tenucles of playn crymyson cloth of gold with iij. abes, twoo auter clothes, a chesibull, twoo tenucles, and fyve coopes of white damaske browdered, with iij. abes, twoo awter clothes of crymeson velwett upon the velwete {sic), a vestement of crymeson playne velvet, iiij. antiphoners, iiij. grayles, and sixe processioners. Also I geve to the house of Sion two of the best coopes of crymyson clothe of gold.
Also I geve to my doughter Brigitte [daughter of Edward IV] the boke of Legenda Aurea in velem, a boke of the life of Saint Kateryn of Sene, a boke of Saint Matilde. Also I geve to my doughter Cecill [daughter of Edward IV] a portuous with claspes silver and gilte covered with purple velvet, and a grete portuous without note. Also I geve to my doughter Anne [daughter of Edward IV] the largest bedde of bawdekyn, withe countrepoint of the same, the barge with bailles, tilde, and ores belonging to the same. Also I geve to my doughter Kateryn [daughter of Edward IV] a traves of blewe satten. Also I geve to my doughter of Suffolke [identified by the editors as either Cecily's daughter Elizabeth, Duchess of Suffolk, or Margaret, wife of Edmund de la Pole] the chare with the coveryng, all the quoshons, horses, and harneys belonging to the same, and all my palfreys. Also I geve to my son of Suffolke [Edmund de la Pole] a clothe of estate and iij. quoschons of purpull damaske cloth of gold. Also I geve to my son Humfrey [de la Pole] two awter clothes of blewe damaske brawdered and a vestyment of crymeson satten for Jh'us masse. Also I geve to my son William [de la Pole; misidentified by the editors, who were unaware of this grandson's existence, as William Stourton] a traves of white sarcenet, twoo beddes of downe, and twoo bolsters to the same. Also I geve to my doughter Anne [de la Pole], priores of Sion, a boke of Bonaventure and Hilton in the same in Englishe, and a boke of the Revelacions of Saint Burgitte.
Also I woll that all my plate not bequeithed be sold, and the money thereof be putte to the use of my burying, that is to sey, in discharging of suche costes and expensis as shalbe for carying of my body from the castell of Barkehampstede unto the colege of Fodringhey. And if any of the said plate be lefte unexpended I woll the said colege have it. Also I geve to the colege of saint Antonies in London an antiphoner with the ruelles of musik in the later ynd. Also I geve unto Master Richard Lessy all suche money as is owing unto me by obligations what soever they be, and also all such money as is owing unto me by the Shirfe of Yorkeshire, to helpe to bere his charges which he has to pay to the Kinges grace, trusting he shall the rather nyghe the said dettes by the help and socour of his said grace. Also I geve to Master William Croxston a chesibull, stoles, and fanons of blake velwett, with an abe. Also I geve to Master Richard Henmershe a chesibill, stoles, and fanons of crymyson damaske, with an abe; and a chesibill, stoles and fanons of crymeson saten, with an abe. Also I geve to Sir John More a frontell of purpull cloth of gold, a legend boke, and a colett boke. Also I give to Sir Randall Brantingham a chesibill, stoles, and fanons of white damaske, orfreys of crymson velvet, with an abe, the better of bothe. Also I geve to Sir William Grave a chesibill, stoles, and fanons of white damaske, orfreys of crymeson velvett, with an abe; a masse-boke that servith for the closett, a prymour with claspes silver and gilt, covered with blewe velvett, and a sawter that servith for the closett covered with white ledder.
Also I geve to Sir John Blotte a gospell boke, a pistill covered with ledder, and a case for a corporax of grene playne velvett. Also I geve to Sir Thomas Clerk a chesibill, twoo tenucles, stoles, fanons, of rede bawdeken, with iij. abes. Also I geve to Sir William Tiler twoo coopes of rede bawdekyn. Also I geve to Robert Claver iij. copes of white damaske brawdered, and a gowne of the Duchie facion of playne blake velvett furred with ermyns. Also I geve to John Bury twoo old copes of crymysyn satten cloth of gold, a frontell of white bawdekyn, twoo curteyns of rede sarcenett fringed, twoo curteyns of whit sarcenet fringed, a feder bed, a bolstour to the same, the best of feders, and two whit spervers of lynyn. Also I geve to John Poule twoo auter clothes, a chesibull, twoo tenucles, stoles, and fanons of white bawdekyn, with iij. abes; a short gowne of purple playne velvett furred with ermyns, the better of ij. and a kirtill of damaske with andelettes of silver and gilt furred. Also I geve to John Smyth twoo auter clothes, a chesibill, twoo tenucles, stoles, and fanons of blew bawdekyn, with iij. abes. Also I geve to John Bury twoo copes of crymysyn clothe of gold that servith for Sondays.
Also I geve to John Walter a case for corporax of purple plaync velvett, twoo cases for corporax of blewe bawdekyn, twoo auter clothes, a chesibill of rede and grene bawdekyn, a canapie of white sarcenett, iij. abes for children, and iiij. pair of parrours of white bawdekyn, twoo pair parrours of crymsyn velvett, twoo pair parrours of rede bawdekyn, a housling towell that servith for my selfe, twoo corteyns of blewe sarcenett fringed, a sudory of crymysyn and white, the egges blak, a crose cloth and a cloth of Saint John Baptist of sarcenett painted, a long lantorn, a dext standing doble, twoo grete stondardes and ij. litill cofers. Also I geve to John Peitwynne twoo vestimentes of white damaske, a white bedde of lynnyn, a federbedde and a bolstour, and a short gowne of purple playne velvet furred with sabilles. Also I geve to Thomas Lentall six auter clothes of white sarcenett, with crosses of crymsyn velvet Also I geve to John Long iij. peces of bawdekyn of the lengur sorte.
Also I geve to Sir [John] Verney knighte and Margarett his wiffe a crosse [of] silver and guilte and berall, and in the same a pece of the holy crosse and other diverse reliques. Also I geve to Dame Jane Pesemershe, widue, myne Inne that is called the George in Grauntham, during terme of her life; and after her decesse I woll that the reversion therof be unto the college of Fodringhay for evermore, to find a prest to pray for my Lord my housbond and me. Also I geve to Nicholas Talbott and Jane his wife a spone of gold with a sharp diamount in the ende, a dymysent of gold with a collumbine and a diamont in the same, a guirdill of blewe tissue harnessed with gold, a guirdill of gold with a bokull and a pendaunt and iiij. barres of gold, a hoke of gold with iij. roses, a pomeamber of gold garnesshed with a diamont, sex rubies and sex perles, and the surnap and towell to the same.
Also I geve to Richard Boyvile and Gresild his wife my charrett and the horses with the harnes that belongith therunto, a gowne with a dymy trayn of purpull saten furred with ermyns, a shorte gowne of purple saten furred with jennetes, a kirtill of white damaske with aundelettes silver and gilte, a spone of gold, a dymysynt of gold with a columbyne garnesshed with a diamant, a saphour, an amatist, and viij. perles, a pomeamber of gold enameled, a litell boxe with a cover of gold and a diamant in the toppe.
Also I geve to Richard Brocas and Jane his wife a long gown of purpull velvett upon velvet furred with ermyns, a greate Agnus of gold with the Trinite, Saint Erasmus, and the Salutacion of our Lady; an Agnus of gold with our Lady and Saint Barbara; a litell goblett with a cover silver and part guild; a pair of bedes of white amber gauded with vj. grete stones of gold, part aneled, with a pair of bedes of x. stones of gold and v. of corall; a cofor with a rounde lidde bonde with iron, which the said Jane hath in her keping, and all other thinges that she hath in charge of keping.
Also I geve to Anne Pinchbeke all other myne Agnus unbequeithed, that is to sey, ten of the Trinite, a litell malmesey pott with a cover silver and parte guilte, a possenett with a cover of silver, a short gowne of playne russett velvett furred with sabilles, a short gowne of playne blewe velvett furred with sabilles, a short gowne of purple playn velvet furred with grey, a tester, a siler, and a countrepoint of bawdekyn, the lesser of ij.
Also I geve to Jane Lessy a dymysent of gold with a roos, garnisshed with twoo rubies, a guirdell of purple tissue with a broken bokull, and a broken pendaunt silver and guilte, a guirdill of white riband with twoo claspes of gold with a columbyne, a guirdell of blewe riband with a bokell and a pendaunt of gold, a litell pair of bedes of white amber gaudied with vij. stones of gold, an haliwater stope with a strynkkill silver and gilte, and a laier silver and part guilte.
Also I geve to John Metcalfe and Alice his wife all the ringes that I have, except such as hang by my bedes and Agnus, and also except my signet, a litell boxe of golde with a cover of golde, a pair of bedes of lxj. rounde stones of golde gaudied with sex square stones of golde enemeled, with a crosse of golde, twoo other stones, and a scalop shele of geete honging by.
Also I geve to Anne Lownde a litell bokull and a litell pendaunt of golde for a guirdill, a litell guirdell of golde and silke with a bokill and a pendaunt of golde, a guirdell of white riband with aggelettes of golde enameled, a hoke of golde playne, a broken hoke of golde enameled, and a litell rounde bottumed basyn of silver.
Also I geve to the house of Assherugge a chesibull and ij. tenucles of crymysyn damaske embrawdered, with thre abes. Also I geve to the house of Saint Margaretes twoo auter clothes with a crucifix and a vestiment of grete velvet. Also I geve to the parish church of Stoundon a coope of blewe bawdekyn, the orffreys embrawdered. Also I geve to the parishe church of Much Barkehampstede a coope of blewe bawdekyn, the orffreys embrawdered. Also I geve to the parish church of Compton by sides Guilford a corporax case of blake cloth of gold and iiij. auter clothes of white sarcenett embrawdered with garters.
Also I geve to Alisaunder Cressencr my best bedde of downe and a bolster to the same. Also I geve to Sir Henry Haidon knyght a tablett and a cristall garnesshed with ix. stones and xxvij. perles, lacking a stone and iij. perles. Also I geve to Gervase Cressy a long gown of playn blewe velvet furred with sabilles. Also I geve to Edward Delahay twoo gownes of musterdevilers furred with mynckes, and iiij li of money. Also I geve to Thomas Manory a short gowne of crymesyn playn velvet lyned, purfilled with blake velvet, and iiij li in money. Also I geve to John Broune all such stuf as belongith to the kechyn in his keping at my place at Baynardcastell in London, and iiij li in money. Also I geve to William Whitington a short gown of russett cloth furred with matrons and calabour wombes, a kirtill of purpull silke chamblett with awndelettes silver and gilte, all such floures of brawdery werke and the cofer that they be kept in, and xls. in money.
Also I geve to all other gentilmen that be daily a waiting in my houshold with Mr. Richard Cressy and Robert Lichingham everich of theime iiij li in money. Also I geve to every yoman that be daily ad waiting in my houshold with John Otley xls. in money. Also I geve to every grome of myne xxvj s. viij d. in money. And to every page of myne xiij s. iiij d. in money. Also I geve to Robert Harison xls. in money and all the gootes.
And if ther be no money founde in my cofers to perfourme this my will and bequest, than I will that myne executours, that is to sey the reverend fader in God Master Olyver King bisshop of Bath, Sir Reignolde Bray knight, Sir Thomas Lovell, councellours to the Kinges grace, Master William Pikinham doctour in degrees dean of the colege of Stoke Clare, Master William Felde master of the colege of Fodringhey, and Master Bichard Lessy dean of my chapell, havyng God in reverence and drede, unto whome I geve full power and auctorite to execute this my will and testament, make money of such goodes as I have not geven and bequeithed, and with the same to content my dettes and perfourme this my will and testament. And the foresaid reverend fader in God, Sir Rignold Bray knyght, Sir Thomas Lovell knyght, Master William Pikenham, and Master William Felde, to be rewarded of suche thinges as shalbe delivered unto theme by my commaundement by the hondes of Sir Henry Haidon knyght stieward of my houshold and Master Richard Lessy, humbly beseching the Kinges habundant grace in whome is my singuler trust to name such supervisour as shalbe willing and favorabull diligently to se that this my present testament and will be perfittely executed and perfourmyd, gevyng full power also to my said executours to levey and receyve all my dettes due and owing unto me at the day of my dethe, as well of my receyvours as of all other officers, except such dettes as I have geven and bequeathed unto Master Richard Lessy aforesaid, as is above specified in this present will and testament. And if that Master Richard Lessy cannot recover such money as I have geven to hym of the Shirfles of Yorkeshire and of my obligacions, than I will he be recompensed of the revenues of my landes to the sume of v c. marcs at the leest.
In Wittenesse Herof I have setto my signet and signemanuell at my castell of Berkehamstede the last day of May the yere of our Lord abovesaid, being present Master Richard Lessy, Sir William Grant my confessour, Richard Brocas clerc of my kechyn, and Gervays Cressy.
Proved at " Lamehithe" the 27th day of August, A.d. 1495, and commission granted to Master Richard Lessy the executor in the said will mentioned to administer, &c. &c.
Sources:
Ian Arthurson, The Perkin Warbeck Conspiracy, 1491-1499. Sutton Publishing, 1997.
Edward Bradley, Fotheringhay and Mary, Queen of Scots by Cuthbert Bede. 1885. On Google Books.
Christopher Harper-Bill, ‘Cecily, duchess of York (1415–1495)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, online edn, Oxford University Press, Sept 2004 [http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/50231, accessed 29 July 2010]
John Gough Nichols and John Bruce, Wills from Doctors' Commons. Camden Society, 1863. On Google Books.
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