YORK OR LANCASTER: WHO WAS THE RIGHTFUL KING OF ENGLAND?

Part 2 – For a kingdom any oath may be broken – York’s title 1460

 

Introduction

This is an essay about the legitimacy of the duke of York’s title to the English crown. I am not going to delve into the duke’s motive for claiming the crown, or into the details of the rebellion that led to his claim. I have covered both these issues in previous posts on this site[1].

Who was the true king of England: the Lancastrian Henry VI or his cousin Richard duke of York? That was the question uppermost in the minds of the lords spiritual and temporal in parliament in the autumn of 1460.[2] They were debating this question because: “…In October the duke of York came over from Ireland to Westminster at the beginning of parliament and as soon as he had entered the upper chamber of the royal palace, where the lords spiritual and temporal were sitting, he approached the royal throne and claimed the seat as his own; he put forward an account of his descent from Lionel duke of Clarence, to whose successors, he said, the kingdom of England belonged, since he was the elder, rather than to the descendants of John duke of Lancaster, the younger brother from whom king Henry was descended.[3] It was a claim as dramatic as it was unexpected and parliament was fully occupied for three weeks discussing the duke’s lineage and his rights.

The outcome of their discussion was so disconcerting to the anonymous author of

‘A Short Latin Chronicle’ that he lapsed into English when writing about it: ”Wherefore the king understanding the said title of the said duke [to be] just, lawful, and true and sufficient by the advice and assent of his Lords spiritual and temporal and the commons in the parliament and by the authority of the same parliament, approves, ratifies, confirms and accepts the said title (as) just, good, lawful and thereunto gives his assent and agreement of his free will and liberty. And moreover it is said by advice and authority, declared, called, established, affirmed, and reputed that the said Richard duke of York (is) very true and rightful heir to the crown of England and France.”[4] Everything is in the duke’s favour except the outcome. His title to the throne is thrice lawful; the Lancastrians are thrice usurpers. Nonetheless, York is not to be crowned until after Henry is dead. It was a recipe for disaster.

York was ten years older than Henry and statistically, at least, unlikely to outlive him. More importantly, the queen and her disinherited son were still at large with an armed force, embittered and well able to oppose this Act of Accord. Not for the first time, nor for the last, an English parliament had managed to make a bad situation worse. The only royal settlement likely to subsist now was one settled on a battlefield. Moreover, the Act of Accord presents a constitutional conundrum. If parliament judged York’s title to be unbeatable, why did they not give effect to their judgment? And, if York believed in the truth and justice of his title, why did he agree to bend his knee to the usurping Henry? The answers to these questions lie in the politics of the day.

York’s Petition

York submitted his written claim on the 16 October 1460[5]. It had the virtue of simplicity, being based solely on his hereditary right of succession. The only evidence adduced was York’s lineage. The main thrust of his case was that in 1399, when king Richard II was deposed, Henry of Lancaster seized the throne, which more properly belonged to Edmund Mortimer earl of March who was descended (through his grandmother Philippa) from Lionel duke of Clarence the third son of king Edward III; whereas, Henry of Lancaster was descended from John duke of Lancaster the king’s fourth son.

The Lords’ objections

The king, who was consulted next day, requested the lords to state objections to Yorks claim.[6] The lords prevaricated. They asked the king’s justices for advice. The justices declined to give it on the grounds that the succession was above the common law, and beyond their jurisdiction and competence. The sergeants-at-law also refused to give their counsel; they argued that if the succession was too weighty for the king’s justices, it was surely above the sergeants’ learning and authority. It seems that only those of the blood royal, and the lords spiritual and temporal were qualified to solve this problem. Freedom of speech was allowed and each lord was to put forward whatever he could to strengthen the king’s title and to defeat York’s. Eventually, five objections were raised:

  • First, the lords were bound to remember the great oaths of fealty that they had sworn to the king. These oaths argued against York’s claim since they could not be broken.
  • Second, the great and noble acts of parliament (unspecified) made in various earlier parliaments could be used against York’s title. Being statutes, these acts carried far more authority than any chronicle and defeated any claim made by any person.
  • Third, similarly, the various entails (again unspecified) made by the heirs male with regard to the crown of England argued against Yorks title, as may appear in various chronicles and parliaments
  • Fourth, York did not bear the arms of Lionel duke of Clarence; and
  • Fifth, Henry succeeded to the throne as the heir of king Henry III, and not as a conqueror

 

York’s response to the objections

The matter of oaths was important, which is why it was the first objection. Although it did not go directly to the merit of York’s title, it was a considerable barrier to the success of his claim. The lords were concerned about two things. First, their own oaths of allegiance to Henry as king “by succession, borne to reign” and to his son Prince Edward, which they had sworn less than twelve months previously at Coventry. Second, they were reminding York of his own oaths of allegiance and obedience, and many protestations of loyalty made to the king over the last decade. The breaking of these oaths was not merely a religious impropriety; it was sinfulness, the breaking of God’s law. To be forsworn was to court eternal damnation.

York responded in kind. He acknowledged every man’s duty to uphold God’s law and Commandments. However, he distinguished between oaths that preserve truth and justice and oaths that promote untruth and injustice. The first kind is obedient to Gods law, which prefers truth and justice; whereas, the second kind is contrary to God’s law. Moreover, since no man can absolve himself from obedience to God’s law to uphold truth and justice and since the oaths referred to by the lords are of the second kind, they are void and of no effect. An oath of allegiance does not bind a man to do anything unfitting or unlawful.

Despite the spiritual views expressed by both sides, Yorks final sentence contained an unmistakable temporal message for the king and his lords. It was a principle York had expressed in an open letter to the king just before first St Albans (1455). Whilst emphasizing, yet again, that he and his followers are the king’s true liegemen ready to live and die in his service he added “…to do all things as shall like your majesty to command us, if it be to the worship of the crown and the welfare of your noble realm (my emphasis).” York was putting conditions on his loyalty and obedience. He was making an important distinction between the institution of ‘the crown’ and the person of the king, and between them both and the rights of the realm. The implication is that although ‘royal authority’ is vested personally in the king, he must behave in accordance with the accepted norms of English monarchs as expressed in the coronation oath that binds them all. York is also introducing the concept of the ‘realm’ of England as a political entity distinct from the monarchy. It has its own rights to which the crown is ultimately responsible. This was more than just a device to protect him from accusations of treason or ‘oath-breaking’; it represents a fundamental tenet of England’s constitution, which we see put most forcibly in Magna Carta.

The second and third objections raise a significant constitutional issue. The key question is whether the Act of 1406, which gave statutory recognition to Henry IV’s title, was the final authority on the issue of succession. The lords obviously thought so, since they argued that it was of an “ authority to defeat any kind of title made to any person”. Having pointed out correctly that the only statute or entail made by any parliament in the past was the Act of 1406, York based his case on two mutually supporting grounds. First, if Henry IV’s title were valid as claimed, he would neither have needed nor wanted statutory recognition of it. Second, his own title being true according to God’s law and natural law was imperishable, even though it had not been asserted earlier. Henry’s title, however, was pretense and in passing the statute, parliament had recognized a title that Henry was not entitled to. The Inheritance Act of 1406 was, therefore, ultra vires. From a constitutional perspective, this was an important development; the theory of a parliamentary title was being subordinated to a theory that God’s law of inheritance determined the succession. York was not impugning the authority of statutes generally; he was simply saying that even though a statute (or an entail) might be binding in normal circumstances, it could not stand against his divine right of inheritance[7].

On the fourth objection that York did not wear the livery of his ancestor Lionel, his answer was predictable. The fact that he didn’t wear that livery did not mean he was not entitled to. He did not wear it for the same reason he had forborn from claiming the crown earlier, and which reason was well known.

The last objection was that Henry took the throne as the rightful heir to Henry III and not as conqueror[8]. York rejected this objection outright. It is simply not true, he said, that Henry IV was the lawful heir to Henry III “…and the opposite, which is the truth shall be readily enough shown, proved and justified by adequate authority and as a matter of record”. He added that Henry’s words were fraudulent and meant to disguise his “…violent and unlawful usurpation” from the people.

The Act of Accord

The Official account of the lords’ “sad and ripe communicacion in this matere[9] is brief but illuminating. The tension at Westminster is palpable. Under pressure from York to bring the matter to a rapid conclusion, the Chancellor seems on the verge of panic. He is desperate for a result that will reconcile York’s ‘unbeatable’ title with the lords corporate obligation to protect the common weal of the realm, their personal duty to king Henry and their consciences. The Chancellor proposed that Henry should retain the crown during his lifetime and when he dies, York should succeed him. It is, the Chancellor suggests, a resolution that avoids the trouble that might ensue, saves the king’s honour, preserves his dignity and estate, and may appease the duke of York — if he agrees! It also means the lords will not have broken the oaths they swore to the king at Coventry. The Chancellors plaintive call for anybody with a better idea to come forward is testament to his despair; as also, is his plea that the lords should stand by him when he explains the situation to the king. For want of something better, the lords readily agree to this outcome.

In truth, there was no appetite to depose a crowned and anointed king who had reigned for thirty-eight years, no matter how grave were his faults[10]. Although the lords sympathized with York’s predicament, they regarded his claim as inopportune. Notwithstanding the legality of his title, he was unable to overcome fifteenth century realpolitik. It was further confirmation that the succession was a political and not a legal process. For the lords the overriding consideration was to preserve the peace of the realm. It is a consideration that ordinarily would protect them from accusations of inconsistency and bad faith; however, in reality they were simply evading the issue and not solving the problem. Only the complete destruction of the Queen’s party or the Yorkists had any hope of procuring an effective peace. Furthermore, the disinheritance of the Prince of Wales guaranteed the continuance of war.

The historical opinion of York’s behaviour is unforgiving. At the time, the Lancastrians depicted him as a hypocrite whose claim to the crown was based on personal ambition and not on the common interest. Many modern historians endorse that view and it is easy to understand why. He swore at least two oaths of allegiance to the king and one of allegiance and obedience, and he made numerous declarations of his loyalty; yet in the end, he tried to depose Henry. York’s integrity can only be defended by examining his motives, which is outside my scope. Therefore, I will not comment on these accusations save to add a health warning. Most, if not all, of this opinion is derived from Lancastrian propaganda. The Yorkist counter-claims are clearly set out in the many political manifestos they produced during the 1450’s. These contained Yorkist propaganda for sure, but a balanced view of what was happening is only possible by considering both sides of the argument.

That said, I do believe that York’s action in accepting the Act of Accord, and his motive for so doing have been misconstrued by some historians. Parliament, it seems, is absolved from acting inconsistently or in bad faith because they moved to preserve the peace; whereas York is denounced for doing the same thing.[11] It is a strange judgment that simultaneously acquits the lords and convicts York for keeping the peace.

He had “taken the moral high ground and promptly compromised” writes John Watts, adding that “under the terms of his own argument, Duke Richard could not bind himself to the deferment of his right during Henry’s lifetime: any oath to do so would be contrary to God’s law and hence null and void.” The professor adds with a flourish “what true king would agree to be subject to a usurper?[12] The notion that York was prevented from accepting the Act of Accord since, on his own argument, it was untruthful and contrary to God’s law, is a shallow one. It ignores the reality of York’s situation and does his argument on the matter of oaths a disservice. The succession cannot be considered in the vacuum of religious doctrine, moral rectitude or personal right. It is, I repeat, a political process, not a legal or religious one. From York’s perspective, this action had been forced on him by constitutional system that made it impossible for him to protest against the excesses of a corrupt and incompetent Lancastrian regime and the breakdown in law and order, without committing treason. York’s cause of action had never been against the king, but against those household servant and royal favourites who abrogated royal authority.

For ten years York championed the cause of good governance in the common interest but he had achieved nothing, other than a reputation as an incorrigible rebel. This was the opportunity to put both the will and the means for good governance in one person. There is no discord between his argument on oaths and his acceptance of a compromise. Whilst the Act of Accord fell short of his objective, it commanded the most support and was self evidently in the common interest. It would indeed have been contrary to God’s law for York to insist on the strict letter of his right at this time and against the wishes of the English lords. He realized he lacked the broad spectrum of support necessary to depose Henry. The change from being the king’s true liegeman to wanting to replace him was too much too soon even for many of York’s supporters. The fact that this desire for a peaceful outcome was futile is neither here nor there from York’s perspective. Since he could do nothing to guarantee the pacification of Lancastrian dissidence, he could at least ensure his own good intentions.

Ultimately, York’s challenge ended in failure. A successful strategy depended on speed and surprise ‘…a speedy coronation; the swift removal of Henry…’[13] Once York was forced to claim the throne rather than seize it, his enemies had time to concert their opposition to him. However, by establishing the superiority of his title over the Lancastrians, York paved the way for his son Edward to seize the throne in 1461.

[1] See Richard 3rd duke of York (2) ‘The king’s true liegeman’ – 10 February 2015; and (3) ‘The man who would be king’ 8 March 2015 https://murreyandblue.wordpress.com/

[2] Chris Given-Wilson (Ed) – The Parliamentary Rolls of Medieval England (Boydell Press 2005): Anne Curry and Rosemary Horrox (Eds) Volume 12 pp. 509-510 (introduction) and 516 to 521 (PROME). York claimed the throne on the 10 October 1460. His written petition to parliament was read aloud on the 16 October 1460. It was the petition that the Lords spiritual and temporal were considering.

[3] Nicholas Cox and John Cox – The Crowland Chronicle Continuations (Richard III and Yorkist History Trust 1986) p111.

[4] James Gairdner- Three Fifteenth Century Chronicles (The Camden Society 1880) pp.170-71; the full title of the ‘Latin chronicle’ is ‘Compilatio de gestus Britonum et Anglorum’ (MS Arundel 5 College of Arms).

[5] PROME Vol 12, ibid: see also Margaret Lucille Kekewich et al (eds.) – The Politics of Fifteenth Century England: John Vale’s Book (Allan Sutton Publishing 1995) p 195 (ff.130v–134/111v–115. The title and claim of the crown by Richard duke of York in the 39th year of king Henry VI))

[6] PROME Vol 12, ibid; the lords spiritual and temporal were commanded to find “…the strongest objections to defend the king’s right and title and to defeat the title and claim of the said duke of York.”

[7] SB Chrimes – English Constitutional Ideas in the 15th Century (Cambridge 1936) pp.27-30. This paragraph is based on Professor Chrimes’ lucid and succinct explanation, which has stood the test of time.

[8] The lords were wrong; Henry also claimed the throne as conqueror.

[9] PROME Vol 12; ibid

[10] Unlike, the deposition of Edward II, and the deposition of Richard II, there was no case against Henry VI of willful incompetence or tyranny. In fact he seems to have been a good, almost saintly, man personally. A regency government could have adequately managed during his periodic spells of mental infirmity.

[11] PROME, Vol 12 p 524. It is quite clear from the Parliamentary Roll that York accepted the compromise to preserve the peace.

[12] John Watts – Polemic and Politics in the 1450’s; Margaret Lucille Kekewich et al (Eds) – The Politics of Fifteenth Century England: John Vale’s Book (Allan Sutton Publishing 1995) at page 34; see also P A Johnson – Duke Richard of York 1411-1460 (Oxford1991 corrected edition) pp. 212-219.

[13] Watts at p35.

11 comments

  1. Just one small thing. The Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March who was the rightful heir of Richard II was Philippa of Clarence’s grandson.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. One thing I don’t understand about the position of those historians who think York was a hypocrite for asserting his claim to the throne so late is – is their complaint against him that he did not do it earlier, or that he did it at all? If former, do they think he should have been king then, if only he asked for it earlier? If latter, do they think hereditary claims were not so important when it comes to the question of who should be king? If yes, then what exactly was the rule to follow?

    Also, if he should have asserted his claim earlier, when exactly do they think he should have done it?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think their problem is that they’re assuming that York always wanted to claim the throne, which isn’t at all certain. In that case he looks like a hypocrite because he had sworn allegiance to Henry and a fool because his bid didn’t succeed. Curiously, if you assume that he didn’t then his actions were perfectly logical.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. That’s a strange assumption to make. If he had wanted to claim the throne, why didn’t he try do it before? Why first do it only when he’s 49 years old? It seems like the strange “Richard III always wanted to be king, he was just hiding it really well until he turned 30” logic that we often hear from anti-Ricardians.

        I think it’s not difficult to imagine why Richard, Duke of York swore all those oaths to King Henry. Since he was 4 years old, he was an orphan whose father had been executed as a “traitor” for trying to oust the Lancastrian dynasty – i.e. Henry VI’s father Henry V – whom he considered usurpers (and, well, it’s really difficult to argue that they weren’t) in favor of his Mortimer brother-in-law as the rightful heir or the deposed, late king Richard II. That’s the shadow that Richard, Duke of York was growing up under; no doubt he must have been taught to be a good subject to king Henry V and later the baby-king Henry VI, to prove that he is not a “traitor” like his father. At age 14 he also became the heir to that same Mortimer claim to the throne, which he was supposed to do his best to ignore. I’m sure he understood geneology, and at some point he must have understood what it meant, but do people really think a person would just all of a sudden go “I am going to rebel against the usurper and assert my rightful claim to the throne!”, when they’ve felt pressure to do the exact opposite and prove their loyalty as a subject – at what age? Already at 14? Later? 18? 20? 30? When was he supposed to assert his claim for the historians to think it was good enough and justified? The status quo is a powerful thing for people to oppose. There’s no indication that he wasn’t anything but a loyal subject for a long time. It’s not that he didn’t have ambitions, I’m sure most of the nobility did – and what’s wrong about that, when you’re clearly a highly competent person who’s doing a really good job (and the rules of your society say that you have certain rights by birth anyway), which can’t exactly be said of your rivals? – but there’s no reason to think that he aspired to replace Henry as king. If Henry had been less than completely incompetent, what we call “Wars of the Roses” probably would have never happened. RDoY was clearly perceived as a threat by the Beauforts and queen Margaret, but he probably didn’t even have to do much to be perceived as a threat. It must have been frustrating to find yourself deliberately marginalized (as with that infamous posting to Ireland, which ironically resulted in him and the York dynasty becoming so popular in Ireland!), even though you’ve been doing everything right, as you’re supposed to: being a good soldier, good administrator, marrying who you’re supposed to marry, being a good husband and father, well respected and popular… All of that no doubt just made him more of a threat. I can’t blame him if he, at some point, went from trying to prove his loyalty while asserting his position, to deciding that he’s had enough and that he was going to uphold his claim to the throne that his father died for.

        His life story is interesting, it’s odd that authors of historical non-fiction and fiction so rarely focus on him, even though it’s understandable why he’s overshadowed by his sons, especially since Richard III’s story is even more dramatic and full of controversies and mysteries.

        One thing I’ve noticed as odd is that Richard, Duke of York and Cecily Neville had seven sons before they finally gave their eighth son the name “Richard”… It seems that in England, aside from naming your son after the ruling king, the most popular choice was giving the son his father’s name (followed by grandfather’s or uncle’s names, etc.). Yet Richard (who had no brothers) and Cecily went through Henry (predictable choice for the first son), Edward, Edmund, William, John, George, Thomas… and only then Richard, in 1452. But maybe it’s because it was also the grandfather’s name, the name of RDoY’s executed “traitor” father. Not to mention, also the name of the late king Richard II. It may have felt a bit too loaded with potentially dangerous meanings.

        Liked by 2 people

      2. Bunny, I can’t reply to your latest comment so I’m replying to the original one instead. Hopefully that way you will receive a notification.

        I agree, you’d think that would be obvious or at least considered a valid alternative, but historians seem to be 1) cynics and 2) don’t like people who challenge the status quo unless they succeed. Probably if York had killed Henry, been king for 20 years and then died in his bed leaving the throne to Edward IV they would view his “usurpation” more favourably than his “hypocritical” concern for the common weal – as you say, similar to how Edward IV and Henry VII are seen compared to Richard III. Perhaps fodder for a future blog post.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. The Lancastrian view is that York should never have claimed the crown and he only did so for personal gain. His hypocrisy was to pretend to be the king’s loyal subject, whilst making war on him. The argument that he had waited too long to make his claim was an argument based chiefly on the doctrine of ‘prescription’, which affirms that every royal dynasty was just if it had divine and ecclesiastical approval, the consent of the people and long time possession, all of which criteria (it is claimed) the Lancastrian dynasty possessed in 1460. However, It is clear from York’s own written response to the lords that he rejected any suggestion that the Lancastrians enjoyed divine approval. He argued that the fraudulent nature of their ‘pretended’ title was contrary to God’s law and thus was without divine authority. It was also his case by implication that a wrong could not become a right by repetition over time; in fact delay makes the situation worse (that is still the law today).

    It was York’s belief that hereditary right had primacy over all other rights since it was God’s law and not temporal law. This policy of ‘strict legitimacy’ was the basis for the titles of both York’s crowned sons Edward IV and Richard III. Presumably, the Lords must have agreed in 1460, since they determined that his claim was unbeatable. However, their refusal to implement this judgment suggests that realpolitik was as important as hereditary right when deciding who should be king. It is unfortunate that some historians still treat the succession disputes as though it was a legal process, whereas it was a political process in reality.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I must confess, I sometimes wonder what planet some ‘historians’ come from. It cannot be coincidence that so many of them either forget or choose to ignore the fact that between 1447 and 1453 York was heir presumptive to the throne on his father’s side; in fact he had a duel title. Given the kings notorious preference for monkish celibacy, it was not unreasonable to think that either he would not or could not sire an heir. It is possible to speculate that York, even if he was ambitious for the throne, was content to rely on his father’s title rather than press his Mortimer claim. If so, it might explain why he held his hand for so long. However, York had rivals for the throne: Henry Holland who was closest in blood to the king and Edmond Beaufort the king’s favourite. It is true that there were impediments to either of these men succeeding but there was nothing that the king could not overcome by entail or through parliament if he wished. York was well aware of the threat to him and to his whole family, which is why in 1451 he may have (foolishly) given tacit support to a commons petition that the king should formally recognize his position as heir presumptive. It was a mistake that cost York the support of parliament and forced the king to make a choice, which he duly did by rejecting the petition outright, dismissing parliament and arresting Thomas Young, the MP who devised the petition. It was following this strategic error that York’s disagreements over governance turned to personal hatred between him and the dukes of Somerset.

    I think the other thing to bear in mind when assessing Yorks motive is that the Cade rebellion was much more than a localised ‘peasant’s revolt’. It was a national movement for political reform involving all stratum of English society and whether York liked it or not the ‘rebels’ saw him as their natural leader. At first, York played a straight Lancastrian bat to the rebels: he kept himself to himself. However, once the rebellion was crushed and the corruption continued he felt compelled to pick up the rebel baton. Given that context, it might be overly simplistic to suggest that York’s motives were wholly altruistic. In 1455 and again in 1460 he was fighting for his own survival; indeed, his life almost certainly depended on deposing Henry in 1460.

    The problem that he had to face was the fitness of the king to rule. He was not a bad man per se, but he allowed corruption and tyranny to flourish in his name through an inability or unwillingness to exercise royal authority; in modern parlance, the king was ‘not fit for purpose’.

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