… on two of the major rebellions – Simnel and “Perkin” – against Henry VII. This article is from Voyager of History and we may soon be in a better position to know whether Richard of Shrewsbury could have been at Tyburn in 1499.
… on two of the major rebellions – Simnel and “Perkin” – against Henry VII. This article is from Voyager of History and we may soon be in a better position to know whether Richard of Shrewsbury could have been at Tyburn in 1499.
Michele Schindler’s seminal biography of Francis Viscount Lovell, one of the trio named in Colyngbourne‘s doggerel, is published today. Hopefully, it will go towards solving the great mystery of his fate.
Could he really have suffocated in a Minster Lovell chamber, after the estate was given to Jasper “Tudor”? Could he have ended his days in Scotland, under a safe conduct complicated by the Sauchieburn rebellion, or was that a red herring?
The beautiful Cathedral of Wells is a medieval visual delight. It was, of course, the See of Bishop Robert Stillington who sought out Richard Duke of Gloucester and announced that King Edward IV had been secretly married to Eleanor Talbot, daughter of the Earl of Shrewsbury, prior to wedding Elizabeth Woodville in a second secret ceremony, thus making his second marriage bigamous and invalid. He knew the matter was true, he said, because he was the one who had officiated at the marriage of Edward and Eleanor..
Stillington was Archdeacon of Taunton when Edward might have met and married Eleanor Talbot, probably around 1461. He was, of course, not then a Bishop but the Canon Stillington. He also served in Edward’s government as Keeper of the Privy seal. He was elected to his Bishopric in 1465–at King Edward’s insistence, as the the Pope initially proposed a different candidate. He was also intermittently Lord Chancellor, though he appears to have been dismissed in 1473. A few years later, Stillington was briefly imprisoned for unspecified offences which seem to have been connected with George of Clarence’s treason charges.
After Richard III’s death at Bosworth, Henry VII immediately ordered Stillington imprisoned . Upon his release, rather than retiring somewhere far from court or bowing to the new Tudor regime, he immediately involved himself in the Lambert Simnel uprising. Once Stoke Field was fought and Tudor victorious , Stillington fled to Oxford, where for a while the University protected him. However, eventually he was captured and thrown in prison in Windsor Castle–this time for the rest of his days. He died in 1491 and was taken to Somerset for burial at Wells Cathedral.
During his lifetime, Stillington did not spend much time in Wells but he did complete building work within the cathedral and raised his own mortuary chapel there in the 1470’s, complete with huge gilded bosses bosses of suns and roses. This chapel, dedicated to the Virgin, was built on one side of the cloisters near the holy springs that give Wells its name and on the foundations of an earlier Saxon church. During the Reformation, in the reign of Edward VI, Sir John Gates destroyed the chapel and tomb and, according to old accounts,ripped the Bishop’s remains out of his lead coffin.
Rather interestingly, Stillington’s Chapel is the ONLY part of Wells Cathedral that was severely damaged during the Reformation, the Bishop’s tomb not only being desecrated but the building itself razed to the ground – and some would have it that there’s no such thing as Tudor propaganda? Of course, the roof was later pillaged by Monmouth’s rebels to make ammunition for use at Sedgemoor.
The foundations of Stillington’s chapel have been excavated, and if you visit Wells Cathedral today, you can see scant stonework sticking out of the ground in Camery Gardens. Nearby, in the cloisters, several massive chunks of his tomb canopy are on display, decorated with symbols of the House of York.
There is a pub in Bridgnorth, near where I live. Well, let’s be honest, there’s about a hundred. If you have ever been to Bridgnorth, aside from the Severn Valley Railway, the funicular railway from Low Town to High Town and the remains of the slighted castle, which lean at a greater angle than the Tower of Pisa, the sheer number of pubs will strike you. The one I was referring to is The Bell and Talbot on Salop Street in High Town. The hanging sign shows a dog lying beneath a bell while the one on the wall looks a bit more like a coat of arms, with two hounds rearing up either side of a bell.
The symbol of the Talbot Hound is easy to miss but is significant in Shropshire. Talbot dogs were small white hunting hounds, extinct now, but understood to be an ancestor of the beagle and the bloodhound. The origin of the breed, its emergence in England and the reason for the name are all lost in the mists of time, but they have an enduring connection to the most prominent Shropshire family of the last five centuries.
Henry VI is believed to have referred to John Talbot in 1449 as ‘Talbott, oure good dogge’: I’m sure he meant it as a compliment, but I wouldn’t appreciate such a label! Did the name of the hound emerge from this quip? Or was it a reference to the already-established Talbot breed, coincidentally sharing a name with Henry’s premier general in France? John Talbot became Earl of Shrewsbury and his family inextricably linked with the title and surrounding county for generations. The 1445 Shrewsbury Book, commissioned by Talbot, has an image of the earl presenting his book to Margaret of Anjou, Henry’s queen, with a little white Talbot hound standing behind him.
In 1569, George Talbot, 6th Earl of Shrewsbury was one of the few English noblemen wealthy and trusted enough to house Mary, Queen of Scots during her period under house arrest at Elizabeth I’s instruction. Shrewsbury was a prominent Protestant and Elizabeth made him a Privy Counsellor as part of the arrangement because of ‘his approved loyalty and faithfulness, and the ancient state of blood from which he is descended’. Mary was initially held at Tutbury Castle and although Elizabeth would not meet the costs of her prisoner’s keeping, Mary’s French incomes covered her hosts expenses for a while. She was moved two months later to Wingfield Manor, a more suitable, well-kept lodging than the dilapidated Tutbury with its inadequate drains. Although he would discharge his duty diligently, Shrewsbury was censured any time he left Mary’s company for his own business and despite his wealth, he and his wife, Bess of Hardwick found themselves financially embarrassed by the cost and Elizabeth’s refusal to help meet them. Mary was eventually removed from Shrewsbury’s care before her eventual entrapment and execution at Fotheringhay Castle.
Alton Towers lies just north of Shropshire, across the border into Staffordshire, and even as a theme park, it retains a link to the Talbot family who made it their ancestral home. The buildings that lie ruined today were built by Charles Talbot, 15th Earl of Shrewsbury in the early nineteenth century. The ride Hex is contained within the ruins and tells the story of that earl’s battle with the supernatural to lift a curse placed in him and his family.
For anyone interested in the fifteenth century, John Talbot, 1st Earl of Shrewsbury, remembered as Old Talbot, is a towering figure sadly eclipsed by later events. He was one of the few Englishmen Joan of Arc is reputed to have known by name. His fearless, often reckless leadership made him the most successful English general in France over many years. He was probably in his mid-sixties when he was eventually killed at the Battle of Castillon in 1453. His loss was such a blow that Castillon is considered the last battle of the Hundred Years War and there is a memorial in France to him, set up where he fell in recognition of a foe worthy of respect.
For those with an interest more precisely focussed on Richard III and the events of 1483, the Talbot family have a vitally important role to play. Unfortunately, there is little solid fact on which to hang any opinion of the controversy of Edward IV’s marital status. Where hard, written evidence is lacking – and we should expect it to be lacking, given the systematic destruction of Titulus Regius after Bosworth – I tend to fall back on the actions of people affected by events. In their reaction, or even inaction, we can often glean an idea of what must have been going on and what people thought of it.
The Talbot family come into sharp focus because the basis of Richard’s charge that Edward IV’s children were illegitimate is a claim that Edward was a bigamist. It was alleged that prior to his marriage to Elizabeth Woodville, he had already contracted a marriage to Eleanor Talbot, daughter of the 1st Earl of Shrewsbury. We have no solid evidence that this is the case, but as I said, we probably shouldn’t expect to. Look at what people in London in June 1483 did, though. They accepted the evidence we are told they were shown. We cannot examine it and for the most part, historians dismiss it as fantasy. Yet those who could read it accepted it so completely that they deposed a king and offered the crown to his uncle. Why would they do that? Fear of Richard? Hardly. He had no army in London or anywhere nearby. He was mustering a few hundred men at Pontefract, but they had not left by then and London was well versed in resisting thousands, never mind a few hundred. Fear of a minority? Maybe, but Richard had shown himself willing to act as regent for his nephew, and he was the senior royal male of the House of York, an experienced governor and successful general (within his limited opportunities). Could it be that, just maybe, the allegations looked true?
Edward IV’s reputation, deserved or otherwise, surely made it seem plausible. None would doubt that he was capable of contracting a secret marriage to a relatively unsuitable older lady. That was, after all, how he ended up married to Elizabeth Woodville. By 1483, George Talbot was 4th Earl of Shrewsbury, the first earl’s great-grandson. He was probably too young to fight at Bosworth, but definitely supported Henry VII during the Lambert Simnel Affair. The Talbot family were Lancastrian in their sympathies; after all, their patriarch had built his reputation and title on defending that House. They are often considered hostile to Richard III, probably because of his accusation against one of their number, but I’m not sure that was the case. By the time of the Lambert Simnel Affair, supporting Henry VII was the natural position for the 4th Earl. Besides, if, as I strongly suspect, the Affair was an uprising in favour of Edward V rather than Edward, Earl of Warwick, then the Talbot family perhaps opposed it because they were perfectly well aware of Edward V’s illegitimacy.
Back in 1483, the Talbot family made no move against Richard or his accusation about Eleanor Talbot and Edward IV. When Simon Stallworth wrote his newsletter to Sir William Stonor as late as 21 June 1483, the day before Dr Shaa’s sermon at St Paul’s Cross, he knew nothing of the impending bombshell. He did, however, note that Lord Lisle ‘is come to my Lorde Protectour and awates apone hym’. This is more significant that it is often deemed to be.
Lord Lisle was Edward Grey. He was not only the younger brother of Sir John Grey of Groby, the first husband of Elizabeth Woodville and therefore uncle to her two oldest sons, but he was also married to Elizabeth Talbot, a niece of Eleanor Talbot. If Richard was looking for evidence to substantiate or refute the charge he had been made aware of, Lord Lisle was a sensible person to consult. He might know whether there was any family tradition that Eleanor had married Edward and whether any evidence remained in Talbot hands.
Lord Lisle was from a Lancastrian family and Richard was about to offend the family of his wife, yet Lord Lisle remained with Richard and offered no opposition. Indeed, Lord Lisle attended Richard’s coronation, as did the Duchess of Norfolk, Elizabeth. Elizabeth had married John Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk and was the mother of Anne Mowbray, the ill-fated bride of Edward IV’s younger son. She had been born Elizabeth Talbot, though, the youngest daughter of John Talbot, 1st Earl of Shrewsbury and a sister of Eleanor Talbot. She was not so outraged by Richard’s accusations that she boycotted his coronation. Was this because Richard was, in actual fact, righting a wrong that the Talbot family perceived had been inflicted on one of their number by a deceitful young king?
There are many other elements to the precontract story. The timing is always cited as too convenient, but I would counter that George, Duke of Clarence seems to have been on the verge of revealing it in 1477 and it cost him his life. Who else would have been brave enough to trumpet the allegation during Edward IV’s lifetime? It would have been tantamount to signing your own death warrant. This piece of the puzzle is interesting though. We cannot be certain of the truth of the allegation of bigamy. We can, however, be entirely certain that the charge was made, that evidence was gathered (or fabricated), that what evidence existed was unanimously accepted by those able to examine it, that this evidence has subsequently been lost or destroyed and that there was no backlash from the Talbot family in 1483 (accepting that in 1485 Sir Gilbert Talbot, younger son of the 2nd Earl, joined Henry Tudor’s army).
It amazes me that such certainty in the fraud of the bigamy allegation is espoused today. There is no hard evidence for it, but there is also none against it. Expanding our consideration to more circumstantial elements, it is probable that the story nearly emerged in 1477, costing George his life, and it is certain that those who were exposed to the evidence in support of it entirely accepted it. It may have been a well-constructed lie, but it is at least as likely, if not more so, that it was true.
I’m beginning to convince myself that the Lambert Simnel Affair might have been an uprising in favour of Edward V, not Edward, Earl of Warwick….
Because I had considerable trouble finally reading all of this article, I have taken the liberty of copying it all, word for word. So I do not claim anything that follows . It is all Nottinghamshire live:-
“It was the site of one of the most important battles in English history, a blood-soaked clash that finally brought an end to the infamous War of the Roses.
“Yet the Battle of Stoke Field, fought near Newark in June 1487, is overshadowed by events two years earlier at Bosworth when the death of Yorkist Richard III gave the throne to Henry VII.
“Nowadays Stoke Field Battlefield, outside Newark, is just an empty field but the scene of this bloody conflict, which cost around 7,000 lives and which rewrote the history books, is being brought back to life in a joint project between Nottinghamshire County Council and the Battlefields Trust.
“A new history trail, featuring five oak panels which describe the background to the battle, the bloody events of the day and the aftermath, will bring the fascinating untold story of this bloody battle to a new audience.
“Visitors will also be able to travel back in time by downloading videos, starring re-enactors in full historical costume, who tell the harrowing, first-hand accounts of the people who were actually there as the battle unfolded.
“On that June morning, Henry VII was about to enter a conflict which would decide the future of the great Tudor dynasty.
“Across the open fields of this picturesque corner of Notts, waiting to face him, was the young pretender Lambert Simnel with his army of between 6,000 and 10,000 men — for the most part, a poorly-trained force of Irish and German mercenaries.
“Raised in Ireland, the rebel army had crossed the sea and then marched over the Pennines before fording the Trent at Fiskerton.
“The King, boosted by a contingent of Derbyshire soldiers he had collected in Nottingham, had a similar number at his call.
“But these were professional soldiers of the crown, more disciplined and better equipped.
“The King delivered a rousing speech, exhorting his troops to fight with every sinew for God was on their side, their cause was just and, he pledged, they would be triumphant.
“Across the fields between the villages of Stoke and Thorpe, rebel leader the Earl of Lincoln gave a similar battle cry before unleashing his rag-tag army in a bid to capture the English throne.
“Preliminaries over, the two men led their followers into the Battle of Stoke Field, an engagement that historians now record as the most bloody ever fought on English soil.
“For more than three hours, axes and swords, spears and spikes, bows and cudgels, were wielded with merciless force.
“As cries of “King Henry” rent the air, heads were cleaved and limbs severed as the two mighty armies fought a vicious hand-to-hand conflict across the open Notts ground, rapidly stained crimson by blood.
“The battle ebbed and flowed but slowly the King’s men gained the upper hand.
“The Irish, fighting with characteristic passion and bravery, were “stricken down and slayne like dull and brutal beasts,” according to one historical account.
“A last desperate thrust against the King’s main force was repelled and the rebels took to their heels, pursued by troops intent on killing every last man.
“Down a gully leading to the Trent near Fiskerton ferry, a large body of the pretender’s men were trapped.
“Without mercy, they were put to the sword, the carnage earning the little valley the name Red Gutter. And when it was all over only the cries of the wounded and the dying could be heard across the battlefield strewn with the bodies of more than 6,000 combatants.
“Most of the leading rebels, men like Lord Lovell, the Earl of Lincoln and German mercenary chief Schwarz, fell that day. But Lambert Simnel was spared and put to work in the royal kitchens, living to the grand old age — for the times — of 50.
“The battle, bloodier than Bosworth Field, signalled the end of the Wars of the Roses which had been raging since 1455 between descendants of the sons of Edward III, the Duke of York and the Duke of Lancaster.
“It confirmed Henry VII as the first Tudor king and a new dynasty took the crown.
“There are few reminders at Stoke Field today of the violence that occurred more than five centuries ago. One or two names suggest the deeds that went on there — Red Gutter is one, Deadman’s Field another.
A stone monument which can be seen at the site of the Battle of Stoke Field
“A stone marker commemorating the battle can be found at Burrand Bush, where Henry is said to have placed his standard following his great victory. And Willow Rundle, at the side of Elston Lane, is said to mark the spot where Col Schwarz and the Earl of Lincoln fell, speared through the heart with willow stakes which then took root and sprouted.
“Councillor John Cottee, Chairman of Nottinghamshire County Council’s Communities and Place Committee, said: “We are delighted that this project will recognise our county’s only registered battlefield. Our heritage is important to us and our sense of place. The Battle of Stoke Field history trail project aligns perfectly with the county council’s aspirations to make more of Nottinghamshire’s heritage and tourism offer.
“Tourism is one of the fastest growing sectors and contributes £1.8 billion per year to our local economy. Visitors will be encouraged to visit our area, stay longer and enjoy our sites and scenery which all play a part in telling the story of who we are and the role Nottinghamshire has played in shaping the history of our nation.”
“Further information about the trail, including the videos, is available from www.nottinghamshire.gov.uk/BattleofStokeField”
My comments: Henry Tudor didn’t give a rousing speech – he didn’t arrive on the scene until the battle was over. Francis Lovell escaped, it is thought by swimming his horse across the Trent. Schwarz’s German mercenaries, the landsknechte, were very highly trained indeed! Oh, and yes, ‘Boo!’ to Derbyshire!
“Amidst the chronicle of lost tombs at Westminster Abbey is that of Queen Anne Neville, wife of King Richard III. Queen Anne’s invisibility in these terms underlines the purported neglect on behalf of Richard III; this lack of a memorial was rectified however when a bronze plaque was placed to Queen Anne’s memory at Westminster Abbey, in an attempt to redress this act of historical forgetting. The fact though that no memorial existed to Queen Anne Neville up until the 20th century meant that whatever hope there had been in establishing the exact location of where she was buried, was slim, given the fact that her tomb is generally described as ‘lost’. This also added to the sense of mystery which already surrounded Queen Anne’s death.
“Instead of Richard III, it is Henry VII – who won victory over the former at the great Battle of Bosworth in 1485 and is remembered at Westminster Abbey. His legacy to it is most apparent in the magnificent Henry VII Chapel. All of Henry VIII’s (legitimate) children are also buried in the Abbey, thus as branches of the Tudor rose, which the marriage of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York helped to create through the union of the two hitherto warring dynasties. Henry VII’s spouse, Queen Elizabeth of York – who Richard III seems to have regarded as a possible wife after Queen Anne’s death, no doubt in an effort to neutralise the threat his niece represented to him as the undoubted Yorkist heir – lies in glory, in the tomb created for her and Henry VII by the great sculptor Pietro Torrigiano. Queen Anne Neville by contrast, lay technically ‘forgotten’ at Westminster Abbey until 1960.
“Queen Anne Neville also does not share a tomb with King Richard III, whose skeleton was, of course, discovered under a car park in Leicester, once the site of the Grey Friars church where his body, ‘pierced with numerous and deadly wounds’, was buried after Bosworth and – subsequently reburied at Leicester Cathedral in 2015. This was done, however, due to Leicester’s proximity to Market Bosworth, as opposed to any statement on the royal marriage; Richard III was simply buried alone because of the battle. By the time of Bosworth, he had not remarried after the death of Queen Anne. The tomb that was erected for King Richard in the church’s choir was paid for by Henry VII; posthumous respect for a King who had fought ‘like a most brave and valiant prince’, as even those who were not sympathetic to Richard acknowledged. The body of Richard III was of huge importance to Henry VII because it underlined his victory at Bosworth, proclaimed his new dynasty and proved that the last Plantagenet King was indeed, dead.
“Henry’s own claim to the throne was understandably one about which he was extremely sensitive, as we can see from his attitude towards both the young Earl of Warwick and pretenders such as Lambert Simnel and Perkin Warbeck; he was, however, keen to stress that his own right to the Crown rested on a divine right won at Bosworth, as opposed to simply through the Yorkist heiress, Princess Elizabeth. Elizabeth, of course, had a far stronger claim to the English throne than his own, for which reason she had to be rendered submissive to his authority; she could have been his greatest threat – instead, she became his wife – but that fact was obviously never forgotten by King Henry.
“Some short time before Queen Anne Neville’s death, she and King Richard lost their only son. Indeed, this was a strange turn of events, given the fact that Richard III was widely supposed to have had Edward V and Richard, Duke of York, the historical ‘Princes in the Tower’, murdered, and now had lost his own ‘heir male’, for which reason it was easy to understand why a superstitious age might have ascribed this to God’s will, to avenge Queen Elizabeth Woodville, their mother. Queen Anne’s son, Edward of Middleham, died on 9 April 1484; cutting off Richard III’s direct line like this, meant that Elizabeth of York remained the true heiress in many minds, despite Richard’s Act of 1484, the Titulus Regius, which had declared her illegitimate. We may believe though, the descriptions of the Croyland Chronicle when it described Queen Anne and Richard III ‘almost bordering on madness by reason of their sudden grief’; it was alluded to in Richard’s reburial service in 2015. In parallel, we might be reminded of the scene when the news that the two Princes were thought to have been killed by order of the King, was broken to their mother, Queen Elizabeth Woodville, who ‘shriek[ed]… struck her breast, tore and pulled out her hair’ (Alison Weir, Elizabeth of York, Pg 105, 2013).
“Perhaps it was the death of her son, which weakened Queen Anne Neville; we simply do not know. It is possible that grief may have debilitated her nervous system, making her more susceptible to a medieval infection. The grief could have brought a closeness between the King and Queen – instead, we read in the Croyland Chronicle, that the King ‘shunned her bed’ (Ibid, Pg 127). The ‘Chronicler’ further reported that Queen Anne fell ‘extremely sick’ several days after Christmas; common opinion had it that the cause was tuberculosis. Croyland emphasises the ‘wound in the Queen’s breast for the loss of her son’ when referring to Christmas, 1484 (Ibid, Pg 121).
“We know little about Queen Anne Neville, even her appearance is elusive – but then, Richard III’s reign was of course, short. She features in the famous Rous Roll, illustrated on several occasions. Richard III’s marriage to Anne – the widow of Prince Edward of Lancaster – was likely to have been one borne out of political strategy because of the mighty Warwick lands which she brought with her as a daughter of the great Richard Neville, Warwick the Kingmaker. However, Anne was also Richard’s cousin, so perhaps he chose a girl he knew, as well as understanding what she would bring with her. A papal dispensation had been granted for Anne Neville’s marriage to her Yorkist cousin, Richard. Their wedding took place – fittingly, in the light of Anne’s missing tomb – at Westminster. Anne was crowned with Richard on 6 July 1483; the King and Queen walked on red cloth from Westminster Hall to Westminster Abbey. Lady Margaret Beaufort – mother of the future Henry VII – carried the Queen’s train (Ibid, Pg 102).
“Queen Anne died on 16 March 1485 – five months before the massively decisive Battle of Bosworth; she died ‘upon the day of a great eclipse of the sun’ (Ibid, Pg 128). On 22 March, less than ten days later, Richard III had sent an envoy to begin negotiations for a Portuguese marriage; this again was not a comment on his own personal feelings for Queen Anne Neville. Richard III would have been desperately aware of the fact that he had to maintain a tight grip on his throne and replace the son that had so recently died because his direct branch of the Plantagenet dynasty could die after him. After the Queen’s death, vicious rumour bussed about that the King had had her poisoned, but historically, there is no evidence for this. More importantly, these rumours show that the King was thought capable of such a thing, as he had been believed to have murdered the two Princes, so the attestation is valuable for how Richard may have been regarded by recent posterity. Although admittedly, this was a posterity in which Tudor propaganda was a powerful tool, as subsequent portraits of Richard which have been later tampered with, have shown. Any physical ‘deformity’ of Richard III would have been viewed significantly in an age when this was thought to be reflective of character; Richard III – as his skeleton shows – suffered from scoliosis, but apparently no – Shakespearean – withered arm.
“It was indeed a far cry from another Queen Anne by another King Richard; Queen Anne of Bohemia was greatly loved by Richard II, who was utterly distraught by her death from plague in 1394. They share a tomb at Westminster Abbey with clasping hands. There is nothing like this for Queen Anne Neville and Richard III.
“Queen Anne was believed to have been buried on the south side of the altar, according to the Victorian cataloguer of the Abbey’s monuments, A. P Stanley, Dean of Westminster, in his book Historical Memorials of Westminster Abbey. The grave is unmarked, and the plaque instead commemorates the Queen herself. Westminster Abbey states that she was buried in this location, in front of the ‘Sedilia’, or chairs for the priests. It may have been exposed when Sir George Gilbert Scott was making preparations for his new High Altar in the late 19th century.
“A stained glass window exists in Cardiff Castle, depicting Anne Neville next to one of Richard III.
“The bronze plaque in the south ambulatory to Queen Anne Neville was erected at the behest of the Richard III Society, bearing a quotation from the Rous Roll (‘full gracious’) and her heraldic shield is topped by a crown. It is the primary memorial that exists to an – almost – forgotten queen.”
©Elizabeth Jane Timms, 2018
Well, well, this author appears to have expunged Lionel of Clarence and his line from the annals of history, in order to make the Lancastrian claim to the throne senior to that of York. When, thanks to Lionel, it ended up the other way around. Lionel was the 2nd son of Edward III, Lancaster the 3rd, and York the 4th. Put 2nd and 4th together, and you have something rather more superior than the 3rd. Yes? Yes.
This is not my work, but has been lifted entirely from British History Online. My contribution is the illustrations. It is a sensible assessment of the relationship of both Richard and Henry Tudor with the great city of York. :-
York, Richard of Gloucester, and Henry VII
There was much that was new in the political situation in the north after 1471. Warwick, whom the citizens had so often courted with gifts, was dead; the Percies had been restored; and Edward IV began deliberately to make his brother Richard ‘the greatest landowner as well as the most important official north of the Trent’. (fn. 1) Richard came to play a part in the life of the city, and to exercise a hold upon its loyalty, which influenced the city’s political actions even after 1485.
There is evidence of Richard’s influence as early as 1475. The city made presents to him and his servants, the mayor wrote letters to him, and the Duchess of Gloucester wrote letters to the mayor. (fn. 2) Next year the city enlisted the duke’s support when its dismissed common clerk appealed to Percy for backing; and he also intervened with the king to recognize the right of the city freely to elect a successor. (fn. 3) He intervened, too, in the war of civic factions which had driven one old alderman, William Holbek, to sanctuary in the Dominican friary. Duke Richard, accompanied by Percy and a large following, appeared at Bootham Bar and solemnly warned the citizens to keep the peace. On the other hand, he persuaded the king not to withdraw the city’s liberties, and received an expression of gratitude in the form of a present of swans and pike when he visited York at Christmas time. (fn. 4)
The association thus begun became closer. In 1477 Richard and his wife became members of the Corpus Christi Guild; (fn. 5) and Richard vigorously supported the citizens in clearing the Yorkshire rivers of fishgarths. (fn. 6) In 1478, however, it was the king rather than the duke who was being courted: the citizens persuaded him to visit York while he was in the north and spent £35 on his entertainment. (fn. 7)
But the flow of letters between Gloucester and the city went on, (fn. 8) and in 1480 York and The Ainsty produced a contingent of troops to follow Richard on a punitive expedition against the Scots. (fn. 9) In 1481 a force of 120 archers, half to come from The Ainsty, was similarly promised in return for a remission of taxation, and it marched off under the command of Alderman Wrangwissh. The campaign was scarcely over before, in face of a threat of Scottish invasion, both Gloucester and Northumberland asked York for more troops. Again the city complied, and its contingent, under the command of John Brackenbury, the mayor’s esquire of the mace, was sent off to join Gloucester at Durham. (fn. 10)
At this point Edward IV determined upon an invasion of Scotland under his own leadership in 1482. Energetic action by Gloucester was required to assuage another outbreak of civic faction in York, while at the same time he cemented good relations with the citizens by sending back one of their number who had been sheltered by a member of his household after committing some offence. The city reciprocated by taking prompt action against a saddler who was alleged to have slandered the duke, and by raising 80 men for his service in Scotland in June and a further 100 men in July. Their share in the campaign, however, was the subject of some scurrilous comment. John Lam was alleged to have said they deserved no wages, for they had done nothing but make whips of their bowstrings with which to drive carriages. This he denied, but told how some of the soldiers said that ‘they did nothing else but waited on the ordnance and carriage’, and one had been so weary ‘he was fain to take off the string of his bow to drive his horse with’. All the same it was no unsuccessful campaign which brought Berwick back into English hands. (fn. 11)
The death of Edward IV on 9 April 1483 diverted attention to more domestic matters. Richard of Gloucester appeared in York towards the end of the month, exacted an oath to Edward V from the northern nobles and perhaps the city authorities, (fn. 12) and borrowed money for his journey to London from, among others, Miles Metcalfe, one of his councillors who was also recorder of York. (fn. 13) The city decided to take advantage of the situation and sent John Brackenbury to ask for a reduction of its farm. On 5 June Richard wrote urging patience in this connexion. Five days later, however, he wrote again asking for military aid against the queen mother and her adherents.
The letter reached York on Sunday 15 June, but the mayor called the council together at once and it was resolved to send 200 men from the city and 100 from The Ainsty to join the army Northumberland was levying for Richard at Pontefract. (fn. 14) Thus York helped to put Richard of Gloucester on the throne, and it was as king he next visited the city at the end of August 1483.
For a month preparations for his reception had been going on. The wealthier citizens contributed nearly £450 to buy presents for Richard and the queen. On arrival, the sheriffs met the king at Tadcaster, the mayor and chief citizens at ‘Brekles mills’ (apparently not within the city), and the rest of the city at St. James’s Chapel on The Mount. The cavalcade entered by Micklegate Bar and was entertained by pageants as it passed through the streets. An official welcome was extended to the king by the mayor, and he was received by the dignitaries of the minster at its west door. Richard took up residence in the archbishop’s palace, and a week of feasting and entertainment followed. The Creed Play was performed in the king’s presence on 7 September and next day Richard’s son was invested as Prince of Wales.
Ten days later Richard gave practical expression of his gratitude to the city. He called the mayor, aldermen and others before him in the chapter house of the minster and promised a substantial reduction of their fee-farm. (fn. 15) Individuals, too, had their rewards. Nicholas Lancaster, city clerk 1477–80, was already a member of the king’s council; and Thomas Wrangwissh, who commanded the city’s forces in June 1483, received an annuity of 20 marks from the issues of Sheriff Hutton. (fn. 16)
York continued to serve Richard. In October 1483 the city sent soldiers under Wrangwissh’s command to assist him against Buckingham; and Richard used it as a base while trying to come to an accord with Scotland in the early summer of 1484. (fn. 17) It was during this visit that his northern council took definite shape, and its instructions in July 1484 laid down that it was to sit at least once a quarter in York to hear bills of complaint. (fn. 18) Almost at once its president, the Earl of Lincoln, was called upon to cope with an inclosure riot in York and to deal with a forger of coin—though in the latter case the city suffered his action with some trepidation for its liberties. (fn. 19)
By April 1485, however, the king was writing about those who threatened the peace he had sought to establish; in June he reported rumours of invasion, and the city council ordered all defencible men to be arrayed on 8 July; and on 16 August news of Henry Tudor’s invasion reached York. Despite a plague which was raging, the city council sent to Richard at Nottingham for instructions and began to levy troops. Word came back from Richard on 19 August, and on the same afternoon 80 men went off to join his army. They failed to arrive in time for Bosworth; but the mayor’s serjeant of the mace, who did fight there, rode in on 23 August to report that ‘King Richard, late lawfully reigning over us, was through great treason . . . piteously slain and murdered, to the great heaviness of this city’. (fn. 20) York’s loyalty to Richard of Gloucester remained firm to the end.
It had, nevertheless, to accommodate itself to the new situation. A letter was sent on 23 August to the Earl of Northumberland asking advice ‘how to dispose them at this woeful season’.
Next day a deputation met the earl outside Walmgate Bar, and the mayor visited a royal emissary at his inn because ‘he durst not for fear of death come through the city’. On the 25th a deputation went to the king asking him to be a good lord to the city, and the proclamation recording his victory was read. Finally, on 4 September, the king’s recognition of the city’s rights and liberties was brought back to York. (fn. 21) But this expedient conduct did not exclude reservations.
Two months after Bosworth, the city authorities still spoke of ‘the most famous prince of blessed memory, King Richard’; (fn. 22) and over the matter of their recorder they were almost truculent. Miles Metcalfe, who held the office, had been close to Richard; and Henry VII ordered his replacement by Richard Green, a servant of Northumberland’s. The city agreed, but only until such time as Metcalfe was received into the king’s grace. When Metcalfe did receive a pardon in October, it was blandly assumed that this settled the matter, Green being offered compensation in the form of membership of the twenty-four. Under pressure from Henry and Northumberland, the city council played a delaying game; and continued to do so when they produced rival candidates for the post on Metcalfe’s death in February 1486. In the end, moreover, they made their own choice of John Vavasour, formerly a servant of Richard III. (fn. 23) Doubtless the citizens were chiefly concerned to maintain their liberty of freely electing the recorder: in like manner they insisted on their right to choose their common clerk in November 1485 and resisted the king’s attempt to nominate to the office of sword-bearer in June 1486. Yet old Yorkist loyalties perhaps gave an edge to this defence of their freedom. As late as 1491, when a drunken schoolmaster abused King Richard, John Payntor denied him and told him that he lied. (fn. 24)
Meanwhile Henry VII had been received in York in 1486, at a cost of £66 to civic funds and with pageants stressing the king’s wisdom and the city’s loyalty. (fn. 25) Within a year this loyalty was put to the test. In March 1487 the city heard of the Earl of Lincoln’s intention to ‘give the king’s grace a breakfast’ and at once informed Northumberland and the king’s secretary. (fn. 26) It also asked for aid to repair its walls, and the king sent artillery from Scarborough Castle and put certain knights under the mayor’s command in case of attack. When Lambert Simnel did appear, he was refused entry to the city, and an attack by Lord Scrope of Bolton on 11 June was beaten off at Bootham Bar. Five days later came the news of the king’s victory, for which the mayor and aldermen gave thanks in the minster. (fn. 27)
Henry VII again came to York at the end of July and the Corpus Christi plays, postponed because of the rebellion, were performed before him on Lammas Day. Certain traitors were dealt with and William Todd and Richard York, mayor and alderman respectively, were knighted. The city was ‘dronkyn drye’, but new supplies were evidently available by 10 September when a gift of bucks from the Earl of Northumberland enabled the mayor, aldermen, councillors, and 600 citizens to sit down to a banquet in the Guildhall ‘with red wine sufficient without anything paying for the same’. (fn. 28)
Tribulations, however, were not quite over: 1489 saw the rising of the commons in the north and the murder of Northumberland. The mayor and council determined to hold the city for the king, but were frustrated by the ‘commonalty’, who would permit neither the Sheriff of Yorkshire nor Lord Clifford to enter the city to assist with its defence. The rebel leader, Sir John Egremont, on the other hand, was able to effect an entry in the course of which Fishergate Bar was burnt; and on 17 May the council advised the mayor to agree to Egremont’s demand for 20 horsemen to accompany him to Richmondshire for fear he should pillage the city. Even after he had gone the city authorities still went in fear that he would return; but they were no less afraid of the king’s anger, seeking to assuage it by deputations and presents to him, to the archbishops of Canterbury and York and to the king’s secretary. (fn. 29
In the event nothing disastrous happened, and after 1489 the city played a smaller part in national history. It provided troops to serve against the Scots in 1496–7; in 1501 it welcomed Scottish ambassadors negotiating a marriage alliance between the two kingdoms; and in July 1503 gave a royal reception to Princess Margaret as she travelled north to join her husband. (fn. 30) Despite a good deal of internal dissension, the men of York were for the most part ‘quiet, submissive and very good subjects during the rest of this king’s reign’. (fn. 31) To some extent this was probably due to Henry VII building up the Council of the North on the foundations laid by Richard III. (fn. 32) Direct royal intervention was never lacking when necessary, but both king and city expected some problems to be settled by the royal agents on the spot. At first the chief of these agents was Northumberland.
He was active in the matter of the recordership in 1485 and in disputes about common lands in 1486. He arbitrated in quarrels with the chapter in 1486–7 and between two aldermen in 1487. It was Northumberland the city informed of the Earl of Lincoln’s treachery and Northumberland who informed the city of Lambert Simnel’s landing. (fn. 33) After 1489 a similar part was played by the Earl of Surrey and the Abbot of St. Mary’s. (fn. 34) The city authorities did not always welcome such intervention, but it became firmer and more frequent as time passed and as the Tudors sought to bring the north parts under effective government.
Among the circumstances which governed the part played by York in national politics in the later Middle Ages, the Anglo-Scottish conflict ranks first. It was this which, between 1298 and 1337, conferred on the city a prominence in national affairs greater than at any time before or since. After 1337, however, though York still from time to time provided troops and served as a base of operations against the Scots, the urgency had departed from this issue. At the same time, from the beginning of the 15th century, the city began to find itself involved in the political conflict in which the great noble families were the main contestants. It allowed itself to be drawn into the wake of Scrope and Percy in 1405; and though for long it avoided any such commitment again, it tried to purchase the benevolence of the great men without its walls by gifts and flattery. Individuals established even closer ties with the great families of the north. In 1446 the recorder was sent to Lord Clifford at Skipton-in-Craven (W.R.) about a fishmonger who had received livery from Clifford; (fn. 35) and Miles Metcalfe and John Vavasour both held civic office and were retainers of Richard of Gloucester. Such things could happen despite the fact that, in 1446, 1457, 1486, and 1503, citizens were forbidden to use the livery of any lord, knight or gentleman. (fn. 36)
Yet this capitulation of the city to the forces of ‘bastard feudalism’ is inadequate to explain its loyalty to Richard III. He seems to have succeeded as no one else did—except perhaps Archbishop Scrope—in winning the hearts of the citizens; and Henry VII had some difficulty in reducing them to good, quiet, and submissive subjects. He had to forbid them to become the retainers of lords, though he may have established similar bonds with himself when he knighted Todd and York and gave them pensions from the Hull customs. (fn. 37) More important, however, were his peremptory demands for obedience and order, and the establishment of a group of royal agents in the north who backed those demands with detailed oversight and intervention at short range. In combination with economic difficulties and internal dissensions, these aspects of Tudor policy were to make 16th-century York less aggressively independent than it had been when it fought for King Richard and defied Henry VII and the Earl of Northumberland at one and the same time.