He lost his head at Pontefract so what was he doing on sale in Colchester?
This Kathryn Warner post gives a lot of detail about Thomas Earl of Lancaster’s life, rebellion and execution six days after the Battle of Boroughbridge. Here we explained the circumstances in which John Ashdown-Hill is seeking his remains, to solve the York/ Beaufort Y-chromosome mystery.
Incidentally, the other Thomas of Lancaster you may encounter in a search engine was Henry V’s brother and Duke of Clarence but died at the siege of Bauge, a few months before his King and exactly 99 years after his namesake.
Did anyone watch the second episode of Lucy Worsley’s fib-busting series last night? I didn’t quite make it to the end because I was so tired, but saw enough to understand that she did to James VII/II exactly what she did with Richard III. By that I mean she concentrated on the deeds/misdeeds of the winning side. Like Richard, James II became no clearer as a man and king as the programme progressed. James was Catholic and “unpopular in a Protestant country”. Full stop.
We were shown the letter from a handful of peers that “invited” William III to visit Britain and some Dutch archivists explained how it would aid his campaign against Louis XIV, another Catholic. Lucy explained just how laughably improbable the “warming pan” stories were and how James Francis Edward’s birth would stop the Catholic monarchy from just dying out when his father passed away, as he did within thirteen years of his dethronement. William’s propaganda emphasised that his coup, from his landing at Brixham, was bloodless. This was true in England but not in Scotland and Ireland, where James and his supporters fought back, as you can see here.
Lucy was as watchable as ever, cheeky and entertaining. And when she was dressed up, she was delightfully sleek. I continue to love whatever she does.
You can read about this second episode in the series here.
The excellent BBC series Digging for Britain, Series 5, the episode concerning the east of Britain, presented by the equally excellent Dr Alice Roberts, contained a section on the Battle of Barnet, 1471.
Why is it that an accepted site for a battle so often proves to be the wrong one? Bosworth is a prime example, of course, but it seems the Battle of Barnet was another. Apparently it has always been thought that the battle took place where the town of Barnet is now, yet there was never any proof. So the discovery of some 15th-century cannon balls in fields outside the town had the local detectors out in force.
Accounts of the battle describe it as having taken place in a hollow in the landscape, and the area of the fields fitted the bill. Standing in the middle and panning his camera around in a circle, one of the searchers showed how the land rose gradually all around. He and his fellows searched and searched, only finding things that might have had nothing to do with the battle, but then (in a style that brought Time Team to life again!) right at the eleventh hour a final detector happened upon something more substantial. They did not know if it was from horse harness or perhaps male clothing, although it was a little heavy for that.
Various other finds convinced them they had found the true site of the battle. But it seemed curious that Edward IV, arriving on the scene with his battle at the end of the day, should choose to place himself in a dip. Surely that would be inviting trouble? Especially as he did not know exactly where the Lancastrian army was situated. But, the Lancastrians didn’t know the exact whereabouts of the Yorkists.
Battle commenced in at dawn, in fog, with the Earl of Warwick, in command of the Lancastrians, firing his cannon where he thought the Yorkists were. But he couldn’t see them because they were low down, and his cannon balls went harmlessly over their heads. Edward, on the other hand, kept his cannon silent, in order not to give his position away.
It became a bloody affair, with the Lancastrians mistaking one of their own, the Earl of Oxford, whose badge was a star, for Edward IV, whose badge was the sun in splendour. Warwick was killed in the rout that followed.
So, was Edward IV a brilliant tactician in choosing the site he did? Or was it pure chance? We will never know.
Go here to see some of the programme itself.
It is well documented how, through the treasonable and treacherous actions of Sir William Stanley at Bosworth, Richard lost his crown and his life. He was hacked to death after Stanley, who brought 3000 men with him, intervened at the crucial point when Richard, with his household cavalry in a heroic charge, came within a hair’s breadth of reaching Tudor and despatching him. There is a story that after Richard’s crown was found under a hawthorn bush, it was Stanley who crowned him.
Sir William seems to have been one of those people who can run with the hounds and play with the foxes, doing well under Edward IV, who made him Chamberlain of Chester and, interestingly, Steward of the Prince of Wales’ Household(1). Later Richard made Stanley Chief Justice of North Wales and finally Tudor made him Lord Chamberlain and Knight of the Garter. It is said that Stanley – step-uncle to Tudor and brother-in-law to Margaret Beaufort – was one of the richest men in England. Bacon estimated his income at 3000 pounds a year. Stanley was also step-father to Francis Lovell, having married Lovell’s mother, Joan Beaufort, widow of John Lovell, 8th Baron Lovell, but I digress!
Fast forward 10 years and it all ended ignominiously at Tower Hill, where Stanley was beheaded on 16 February 1495 for the treasonable act of communicating with Perkin Warbeck. Stanley was accused of telling Robert Clifford, who informed on him, that if he was sure Perkin was indeed Edward’s son ‘he would never take up arms against him’.
The question I am raising here is not so much about Stanley’s interminable fence-sitting, which is common knowledge – and a penchant he shared with his brother Thomas – but rather, did Sir William, an apparent dyed-in-the-wool turncoat, capable of the greatest untrustworthiness, actually possess a latent streak of honour, perhaps dating from the time when he was Steward to the Princes of Wales’ Household? Did his time there give birth to a fierce loyalty to Edward’s sons, that later emerged with such a passion that he risked all, absolutely all, when he joined the Perkin Warbeck plot? Did he grow fond of young Edward, later focusing this affection on Edward’s brother, Richard of Shrewsbury, whom Warbeck purported to be? OR, was he, as the historian Gairdner (2) suggested, merely attempting to secure his position in the event of an invasion?
(1) Ramsay, Lancaster and York, ii 482
(2) W A J Archbold ‘Sir William Stanley and Perkin Warbeck’ English Historical Review 14( 1899) pp 529-534. ‘On 14 March (year unknown) Gairdner suggested in a note to Archbold that Stanley may ‘simply have wanted to secure his position with both sides in case of an invasion’. I am grateful for this information which I have gleaned from Helen Maurer’s ‘Whodunit – The Suspects in the Case’.
Would you like a few sniggers and outright guffaws? Yes? Then I have just the book for you—Lives of England’s Monarchs by H. E. Lehman. I was searching for something specific, and for some reason Google took me first to page 182…
“…Edward [IV] was a large man possessed of great leadership ability and personal charm. But in many ways he lacked foresight, and was impulsive to his own hurt. He alienated many of his strongest supporters by seducing their wives. In Edward’s behalf, it should be added that, in those cases, it was the husbands, not the wives, who complained most strenuously…”
He alienated many of his strongest supporters by seducing their wives???? Where have I been? This is the first I’ve heard of these mass seductions and furious husbands. Does anyone know any more?
And from page 181 of the same book…
“…Edward’s youngest brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester (later Richard III) was always loyal. King Edward trusted and made Richard vice-regent for all the northern provinces of England. In reward for his loyalty, Edward gave Anne Neville, Countess of Northumberland, to Richard as his bride. (If that name sounds familiar, it is because she is the same Anne Neville, who briefly, was married to Queen Margaret’s Edward, Prince of Wales, near the end of Henry VI’s tragic reign.) Richard defended England against Scottish invasion, and secured the northland throughout Edward’s reign…”
Countess of Northumberland? Wouldn’t Harry Percy have noticed when his wife turned up as Richard’s queen? Was that the reason for Percy’s ill attendance at Bosworth? Oh, and the author also declares that Warwick Castle was in Northumbria.
More from page 181…
“…Fourteen year old Henry Tudor (later Henry VII) was a trouble-maker in Northumberland, but bastardy in both his parent’s lines of descent (i.e. bastard Tudor and bastard Beaufort) made his royal connections seem too remote ever to be a real threat to the Yorkist line…Even so, just to be on the safe side, Edward exiled him from England. Henry Tudor went to live with his paternal uncle, Jasper Tudor, in Brittany, France…”
Edward exiled him? Then spent years and year trying to lure him back? I think not! Edward would have grabbed the little varmint there and then, no messing about. (Oh, if ONLY!)And Brittany wasn’t in France at that point. You couldn’t make it up. Well, H.E. Lehman has, clearly.
For more entertainment, you should look at the book itself. http://tinyurl.com/hchylqp. If the link doesn’t work, Lives of England’s Monarchs by H. E. Lehman is available in Google books.
Here, at 45:12, he discusses Edward’s legal marriage, his bigamous marriage and his (other) mistresses.
Here, at about 49:00 , he disscusses Edward’s (hitherto little known) relationship with Henry, Duke of Somerset and his visits to Leicester.
In January 1400, after the failure of the Epiphany Rising that was intended to remove Henry IV from the throne and restore Richard II, John Holand, Earl of Huntingdon, the younger of Richard’s half-brothers, fled from London. The weather was foul, and time and again his vessel was driven ashore. Eventually he gave up, and took to the land again in Essex. To shorten the story, he was captured and summarily beheaded by his enemies at Pleshey.
As I’ve said, Holand was Richard II’s half-brother, but he was also Henry IV’s brother-in-law. He chose to stand by his blood kinsman, and it cost him his life. Holand was not an angel, but he was a renowned tournament knight, a great showman in the lists, and always put on a star-quality performance. Other knights on the famous tournament ‘circuit’ knew he was a force to be reckoned with. He always delivered the goods as far as his audience was concerned, and must have been quite something to watch, so how very sad the shabby fate he was to meet that New Year in Essex.
The thing is…what is the January weather like in Essex today? Well, Holand might have recognised it, what with high winds, floods, storm surge warnings and the like. It seems that all these centuries later, when it comes to weather, nothing much has changed in that neck of the woods. It was vulnerable then, and still is.
Today in 1461, at Hereford marketplace, Owen Tudor was executed and buried in the local Greyfriars. It appears that, although he had commanded Lancastrian troops at Mortimer’s Cross and been captured, he was not expecting this fate. He may well have foreseen himself being ransomed instead until he saw the block.
Perhaps he was executed because he was thought to have married the widowed Catherine de Valois and fathered some children by her, although there is no real evidence at the time and that such a marriage would have been precluded by the 1427 Act, as Ashdown-Hill reminded us in Royal Marriage Secrets. A royal stepmother could not remarry until her son came of age, which Henry VI did not during Catherine’s lifetime.
After her death in January 1436/7, it seems that rumours, including the legend of her watching a naked servant bathing, arose and were exploited for propaganda purposes so as to use him – and his “sons”, Edmund and Jasper – to bolster Henry’s fragile regime as a counterweight to the Duke of York and his cohort. Doubtless Owen played along and boasted about these rumours.
Eight years after his end, the words “This head that shall lie on the stock that was once wont to lie on Queen Catherine’s lap” were attributed to him, although the phraseology varies. Perhaps he should have kept quiet or restricted himself to the facts.