A MEDIEVAL POTPOURRI

‘I came in my might like a sun in splendour, Soon suddenly bathed in my own blood’

George duke of Clarence’s  epitaph  – Tewkesbury Abbey.

This is thought to be a portrait of Isobel from the Luton Guild Book.  See  The Dragonhound’s  interesting post here

After the death of Isobel Duchess of Clarence on the 22 December 1476 aged 25, her coffin lay in repose on a hearse for thirty-five days in the midst of the  choir of Tewkesbury Abbey while a vault was constructed, ‘artificialiter’, behind the high altar facing the entrance to the eastern Lady Chapel (1).  Hicks, George’s biographer wrote how the widower  ‘… took  great pains over her exequies’  and Isobel was finally laid to rest on the 8 February 1477.  Just over a year later  following his execution on the 18 February 1478, her husband, aged 28, was to join her in their tomb.

On the 20 February Dr Thomas Langton, a royal councillor wrote in a letter ‘Ther be assigned certen Lords to go with the body of the Dukys of Clarence to Teuxbury, where he shall be beryid; the Kyng intends to do right worshipfully for his sowle’.

George Duke Clarence.  Rous Roll. Motto ex Honore de Clare.

 Could this be a portrait of George, in blue, and Richard the figure in green?  Luton Guild Book.  See here for the Dragonhounds interesting theory.  

Much has been written on George and his life and death, not quite so much about Isobel. Isobel, daughter of Richard Neville, the Earl of Warwick, who became  known as  the Kingmaker and Anne Beauchamp and thus sister to Anne, then Duchess of Gloucester, later Queen to Richard III,  never recovered after  giving birth to a son at the infirmary of Tewkesbury Abbey on the 5 October 1476.  It’s not known why Isobel would have given birth in the Abbey infirmary and not in the comfort of her home, Warwick Castle.   Could this indicate that she was ill prior to going into labour?  The next day the baby, a boy named Richard, was baptised in the nave  of the Abbey.  Whether or not Isobel was ill prior to giving  birth, she never recovered fully afterwards and was taken home to Warwick Castle on November 12th where she died on the 22nd December, her baby son dying around the same time. It has been presumed that her death was brought about by childbirth and/or consumption.  There are indications that George loved and mourned Isobel and Hicks suggests it may be taken as a ‘sign of his continuing sense of loss’  that six months later Isobel was enrolled posthumously when George and their two surviving children were admitted to the Guild of the Holy Cross at Stratford-upon-Avon (2 ). Unusually for the times there  is no evidence he was ever unfaithful to Isobel with no known mistresses or illegitimate children.  This was rare for a man of the nobility in the 15th century.  George was adamant that she and their son had both died of poisoning.  So convinced was George that he attempted to send his surviving son, Edward, out of the country to somewhere he would be safe.   Whether he was successful or not is a moot point.  Some theorise he succeeded in this venture but it is generally accepted that it was his son who was placed in the Tower of London after Bosworth where he remained until his execution on the 28 November 1499.    George was judicially murdered in what  has been described as the ‘first act of self-immolation of the Yorkist monarchy by Edward IV’ which ‘reverberated throughout the nobility with tragic consequences in 1483‘ (3). George was laid to rest beside Isobel and his now parentless children left to their fates.  

Isobel and George Duke and Duchess of Clarence.  The Rous Roll.  British Library.

Isobel Neville, Duchess of Clarence.  Rous Roll.  The British Library.

 I will not go into the rows, accusations, counter accusations and shenanigans that had led to the great falling out between the royal brothers.  It’s documented elsewhere and I would recommend Hicks’  False, Fleeting, Perjur’d Clarence 1449-78 for anyone who would like to delve  deeper into George’s story.  The end came when George bravely but rashly had Thomas Burdett’s declaration of innocence, which had been made on the scaffold before his execution,  read out to the royal council.  John Stacey, Burdett’s co-defendant also proclaimed his innocence on the scaffold, his voice weaker, probably because of the torture that he had endured.   Is it likely that a medieval man in those pious times would have been prepared to go to meet his Maker with a lie upon his lips?   I think not. Thomas  Penn in his book The Brothers York notes a similar case in 1441 when two astrologers, Bolingbroke and Southwell had been arrested on much the same charges, that  time  predicting Henry VI’s death.  Pen suggests this case could have been the blue print for the Burdett and Stacey case.   George’s goose was well and truly cooked and an enraged King Edward summoned George and before  a parliament ‘stage-managed‘ and  thronged with sycophants and a trial ‘very carefully prepared apparently by the  Wydevilles‘ with witnesses doubling as prosecutors,  it was ensured George stood not a  cat’s chance in Hell.  His prediction that Edward ‘entended to consume hym in like wyse as a Candell consumeth in brennyng’  proved correct.    The most reliable narrative, that of the Croyland Chronicler, who appears to have been an eyewitness at the trial and was clearly shocked, indicates that it  was not ‘conducted in a manner conducive to justice’  and that George was offered inadequate opportunity for defence (4).  Hick’s writes that the Act of Attainder ‘although long is insubstantial and imprecise and it is questionable whether many of the charges were treasonable, some were covered by earlier pardons, some seem improbable, none is substantiated and certainly no accomplishes were named or tried‘.  The sentence was of course that of  death and a vacillating Edward was finally  pushed into proceeding with his brother’s execution.    After the deed was accomplished Edward  ‘provided for an expensive funeral, monument, and Chantry foundation at Tewkesbury Abbey’  which, frankly, was the very least he could do under the circumstances.    There are indications Edward regretted his brother’s execution and that ‘he bewailed his brother’s death’.   As well as Sir Thomas More and Holinshed’s Chronicle remarking on it  Virgil also wrote ‘yt ys very lykly that king Edward right soone repentyd that dede; for, as men say, whan so ever any sewyd for saving a mans lyfe, he was woont to cry owt in a rage ‘O infortunate broother, for whose lyfe no man in this world wold once make request’ (5).  Edward, presumably filled with guilt, floundered around, blaming everyone else for what was the judicial murder of his brother except those truly responsible, himself and his Wydeville wife,   One can only imagine the pain of their mother, Cicely Neville.  The third brother, Richard Duke of Gloucester, later King Richard III was said by Mancini to be so. ‘overcome with grief that he could not dissimulate so well, but that he was overheard to say that he would one day avenge his brother’s death’ (6).

 After the burial of George, the vault was sealed and a large blue flat stone was laid over the entrance with an  inlaid funerary brass which may have depicted George and Isobel. This blue stone was still in place in 1826 although the brass itself had long since disappeared.  Besides the vault  there was also once a magnificent monument incorporating their effigies which completed the ring of Despenser tombs around the abbey choir (7).  Nothing remains of that monument today.

The entrance to the Clarence Vault, Tewkesbury Abbey.  Photo with thanks to the Wars of the Roses Catalogue.

A glass box in the Tewkesbury Abbey was long thought to have contained the remaining bones of George and Isobel but does it?    Confusingly the vault had been  opened, desecrated and pillaged several times over the centuries perhaps  at the Dissolution and in 1509 when the Lady Chapel was demolished but  definitely three times in the 18th century when in 1709, in the most reprehensible outrage, the royal remains were displaced to make room for the coffin of a “periwig-pated alderman” by name of Samuel Hawling  and later on, in 1729 and 1753, his wife and son who were also interred there (8). This situation was belatedly put right in 1829 when the Hawlings were in their turn ejected from the vault and rightfully so.    On that occasion some bones unconnected to the Hawlings that remained in the vault were presumed to be those of the Clarences and placed in a small ancient stone coffin that had been discovered elsewhere in the Abbey.   

The Glass Box containing the bones from the Clarence Vault. Photo The Wars of the Roses Catalogue 

In 1876 the vault was opened again to enable the laying of a new pavement in the  ambulatory.  The stone coffin in which the bones that had been supposed to be those of the Clarences had been placed  was found to be filled with water, Tewkesbury being prone to flooding.  It seems the bones were cleaned and then placed in a  glass box.  It is unclear if this is the same box where they remain to this day.     The opening to the vault was then fitted with iron gates, and in the pavement over the vault a brass inserted engraved with two suns in splendour, the badge of the House of York. with the inscription, composed by a Mr. J.T.D. Niblett:

 Dominus Georgius Plantagenet dux Clarencius et Domina Isabelle Neville, uxor ejus qui obierunt haec 12 Decembris, A.D. 1476, ille 18 Feb., 1477.

    Macte veni sicut sol in splendore, Mox subito mersus in cruore.

Which translates thus..

 ‘Lord George Plantagenet, Duke of Clarence, and Lady Isabelle Neville, his wife, who died, she on Dec. 12, 1476, he on Feb. 18, 1477.

I came in my might like a sun in splendour, Soon suddenly bathed in my own blood’

 ….. a fitting epitaph for a man I always think lived his life like a dazzling firework, zooming through the air before finally falling  to the earth spent and dying.   Virgil reported his ‘comeliness’   alarmed an angst ridden Elizabeth Wydeville who feared it made him appear worthy of the  crown. Another reason George had to go!  It’s both annoying and frustrating George is too often seen as a one dimensional character,  almost bordering on a pantomime villain, accused of being a traitor, drunkard, turncoat etc., etc.,even a lunatic.    In fiction he has regularly been depicted as a nasty piece of work and even in one very popular novel bashing his young sister-in-law  Anne Neville and giving her a cut lip.    Certainly the Ankarette Twynhoe affair is a blot on his copy book,  a strange story lacking clarity and which so far has never been explained satisfactorily.    No historian has ever come up with  a plausible reason why George acted in the way he did preferring in the main to go down the well trodden route  that he was a bad man and not wired up right.  Give Me Strength!  Could it be possible that Isobel and her baby were indeed poisoned which would explain something which otherwise makes little sense, is totally irrational plus making George’s rage understandable.  If a link between Ankarette, the Twynhoes and  Elizabeth Wydeville could be discovered the whole scenario would then fall nicely into place.   It would also  be an explanation as to why Isobel was in the Infirmary at Tewkesbury prior to going into labour when surely the most comfortable place for her to have given birth would have been at home at Warwick Castle?  Clearly she was ailing from something but what?    I think we should at the very least keep an open mind on what is a very puzzling episode rather than leaving it that George simply threw a wobbly,  arrested an innocent, elderly lady and had her executed just to prove he could and to wind Edward up. Yeah right! as they say in South London.  

Another thing I find baffling is the general perception held by many historians  of George and Warwick’s rebellion particularly in Warwick’s case which paints them as traitors of the most execrable kind.   Warwick was clearly provoked beyond endurance by the rise and rise of the grasping, popinjay Wydevilles,  coupled with Edward’s cavalier attitude towards him.   Indeed I cannot blame them for it and I think their actions to rid the world of these odious people should be praised not maligned.  The Wydeville marriage was, after all,  the rock that the House of York foundered upon.   Regarding the drunkenness charge,  the late historian John Ashdown Hill pointed out there is nothing in contemporary records that suggest George was a drunk and it’s merely a silly myth on the same lines as Richard III’s ‘hump’ and withered arm.    Bravo John!  Unfortunately the winner gets to write history.  

But back to the vault.  in 1982 the bones were give the first modern examination by Dr Michael Donmall. They consisted, it would seem,  of parts of two skulls, an assortment of long bones, pelvic and shoulder fragments , parts of a spinal column and some foot bones.  The age of the skull deemed to be that of  a male was estimated to be in the range of 40-60 years and the female 50-70 years.  Both individuals were described by Dr Donmall  as showing age related arthritic changes.  This would, alas,  rule out they were the remains of George and Isobel.

In 2013 the bones were re-examined by Doctor Joyce Filyer who muddied the waters further by suggesting that the bones were those of more than two individuals.   Doctor Filyer however agreed with the 1982 findings that the two individuals were too old to be the Clarences.   However Dr John Ashdown Hill suggested that the damaged skull may  not not have belonged to the male’s bones  and it is just possible this may be what remains of George’s skull.  John bases this on the fact that some years prior to death the individual had suffered a cut to the front of the skull which had healed.  This would be consistent with the ‘report that George suffered an injury at the Battle of Barnet six years prior to his death’.   However it should be remembered that the nature of George’s battle injury is unknown.  Dr Ashdown-Hill goes on to mention that there are also some very fragmentary bones included  which are the remains of a ‘very slender woman who appears to have died in her twenties and that these may comprise surviving fragments of the body of Isobel Neville, Duchess of Clarence‘. So does the glass box indeed hold at least some of the remains of the Clarences or is it just wishful thinking?  

A further view of the Clarence Vault.  Photo @ The Wars of the Roses catalogue.

Like his brother Richard, George has suffered from the brilliant pen of  William Shakespeare, who described him as ‘False, Fleeting, Perjur’d‘.  Shakespeare also lay the responsibility of George’s death at the door of his brother Richard, then Duke of Gloucester.  Perhaps he had not read Mancini’s comments although it probably would not have made any difference.  It should be remembered that  George was a man of his times,  who had flaws but his good points are regularly overlooked.  As Hicks wrote the Croyland Chronicler paid tribute to his ability and dangerous popularity, ‘an idol of the multitude‘.   The Salisbury Cathedral chapter act book observed ‘Thanks be to God who has given such a benevolent and devout prince into the tutelage of the church’.  Lets leave the final word with John Rous who would have met him and described him thus..‘…a myghty prince, femly of perfon and ryght witty and wel visaged.  a gret almys geuer and a grete bylder as showis at tutbure (Tutbury) warrewik (Warwick) and odre placis and there was he purposed to have doone many grete thinges as wallyng the town..and at Gypclyf (Guy’s Cliffe) to have performyd the wil and purpos of hys fadre in law (Richard Neville Earl of Warwick) and to have gete privilages to his burges of Warrewik but froward forteon maligned foor a geyn him and leyd al a parte’. 

1. The Abbey Church of Tewkesbury H J L J Massé
2. False, Fleeting, Perjur’d Clarence M A Hicks
3. Last Champion of York: Francis Lovell, Richard III’s Truest Friend p. 49. Stephen David.
4. Ibid p141
5. Virgil 168
6. The Usurpation og Richard III p.63 Dominic Mancini
7. The Third Plantagent John Ashdown-Hill
8. The Abbey Church of Tewkesbury H J L J Massé

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Joan Neville and her husband William Fitzalan Earl of Arundel lie together to this day in their beautiful tomb in the chapel at Arundel Castle. Photo author’s own.

Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury (b.c1400-d. 1460) and his wife Alice Montacute/Montague Countess of Salisbury (b. 1407, d. before 9 December 1462) had ten children, including two sons, Richard Earl of Warwick (1428-1471) and John Marquis of Montague (1431-1471) whose stories have become very familiar to us through the roles they played in the madness that was to become known as the Wars of the Roses.  These brothers had six sisters who are slightly less well known but in some cases who went on to marry men that played significant parts in the wars and thus created a complicated tangle of allegiances.  Whether the sisters  would have had any input in matters can only be speculated upon.  The sisters lives spanned a period of an amazing 80 years – and was an extraordinary mix of splendour, wealth, indulgence, ceremony, hopefully some love, extreme anxiety and tragedy.  

They were

JOAN c.1424-1462

Joan married William Fitzalan d.1487 Earl of Arundel about 1438 when she would have been about 14.  Marriages would not have been consummated until the bride reached maturity and thus their first child was not born until 1450.   The marriage produced five children one of whom, Thomas married Margaret sister to Queen Elizabeth Wydeville/Woodville.  Fitzalan fought  for Warwick his brother-in-law at the 2nd Battle of St Albans in 1461.     Joan predeceased him dying about 9 September 1462 after a marriage that had endured for 24 years.   We have no way of knowing whether it was happy or otherwise but it is a fact that William never married again and seems thereafter  to have steered well clear of politics.  This ensured he attained the age of  70 years, a good age for the times.

Joan Neville Duchess of Norfolk’s effigy,  Arundel Castle chapel.

CICELY died 28 July 1450.  Born sometime between the births of Joan and Richard and without a doubt named after her aunt,  Cicely Neville Duchess of York,  mother to Edward IV and Richard III.   Married 1436, when they were both children, Henry Beauchamp, duke of Warwick  who died in 1446 aged 21 years old.  A daughter from this marriage  predeceased Cicely.      Second marriage  April 1449 to John Tiptoft,  Earl of Worcester (1427–1470), a marriage which lasted only 15 months.   Tiptoft was  known as the Butcher of England.    This charmer  was known for his brutality  including in 1470 the impaling of 20 of Warwick’s men,  an execution mode unknown in England.  This created an enraged outcry even in those brutal times (1).  However he has been described as a ‘humanist’ and a great reader of books so thats alright then.

There is also good reason to believe that Tiptoft was among those responsible for the judicial murder of the Earl of Desmond and his two small sons.   Of course it does not follow that Tiptoft was cruel or harsh to his wives.   In fact he very much loved his second wife, a widow Elizabeth Baynham who he married soon after Cicely’s death and  who herself died before 4 April 1452    We know this because in a letter following Elizabeth’s death written to Henry Cranebroke, monk of Christ Church,  Canterbury, Tiptoft asked for prayers, ‘with special remembraunce of her soule whom I loved best‘ (2). However this  seems quite callous and  disrespectful to the memory of Cicely    Whether Tiptoft had behaved coldly towards Cicely or not, he fell into her  brother’s, the Kingmaker’s,  hands who without further ado  executed his former brother in law on 18 October 1470.   Cicely seems to me the saddest of the sisters, a young widow, who lost a child, married to a man known for his harsh nature and dying sometime in her 20s.    Cicely was laid to rest near to where her first husband was buried in the  choir  of  Tewkesbury Abbey, the Despenser family’s mausoleum ( 3 )

The beautiful floor of the Choir, Tewkesbury Abbey.  Somewhere in this area Cicely and her Ist husband, Henry Beauchamp lie buried.  

ELEANOR/ALIANOR d.c1472.  Married Thomas Stanley c.17th December 1454, who soon after her death married Margaret Beaufort,  despite the fact she looked as if she had been weaned on a lemon, after all she was stinking rich,  mother to Henry Tudor.  Her marriage to Stanley proved fruitful producing a large brood of children.     Because of the survival of two letters written by Eleanor we can glean a little of her nature in that she was caring and resourceful, intervening to resolve disputes and in the case of a Geoffrey Harper, when an annuity he was entitled to was being kept from him,   writing a polite but stern letter to a Piers Werberton,  to get the matter  and ‘…. grete hurte of the seid Geffrey‘  resolved (4).  Ending her letter that his assistance in the matter ‘ …. shall cause me to be your gode lady’ which was medieval speak for ‘Get It Sorted Now !’ and no doubt Werberton did just that, fast. Bravo Eleanor.  

Eleanor must have died in London as she was laid to rest in the Church of St James Garlickhythe, the parish church of the Stanleys.  Stowe noted her burial there in his Survey of London 1598.  Tudor herald Thomas Benolt on his visit there while recording funerary monuments in London in 1500-05,  noted that Eleanor  Lady Stanley, was ‘wtout a stone‘  ..really Thomas! shame on you. Also buried there were two of her sons, John, who had died young and George , Lord Strange – it is said that George died of being poisoned at a banquet – but I digress – as well as her sister in law ,  William Stanley’s widow, Elizabeth Tiptoft Countess of Worcester d.1498, yes the widow of the very Tiptoft, widower of Cicely Neville…. please keep up at the back dear reader!  Sadly all these tombs were lost when the church was destroyed in the Great Fire of London 1666.  

ALICE/ALESIA died c.1503.  A lady who endured truely worrying times.  Married Henry Lord Fitzhugh of Ravensworth d. 8 June 1472, ‘a long standing ally of the Neville Family’ (5).  A  daughter, Anne, married Francis Lord Lovell, Richard III’s loyal friend.  After Henry’s involvement with the Warwick rebellion, he, Alice, their five surviving sons and their daughters were pardoned by Edward IV.  Fitzhugh seems to have stayed out of trouble after that, not taking part in the battle of Barnet 14 April 1471, where his two brother in laws were to fall.  Perhaps he was already ill at that time?  Alice was later to attend, with her daughter in law, Anne Lovell, Richard III’s Coronation wearing ‘long gownes made of vij yerdes of blue velvet and purfiled with v yerdes and a quarter of crymsyn satyn and vij yerdes of crymysy velvet and purfiled with v yerdes and a quarter of white damask’  which were gifts from the new king and queen, her niece Anne Neville, daugher of the Kingmaker (6).  Had a long widowhood of over 30 years dying at nearly 70 years old.   Lived at Tanfield Castle.

Gatehouse of Tanfield Castle.  Home to Alice Fitzhugh nee Neville.  Photo English Heritage.

KATHERINE  d.1504  Married first William Bonville Lord Harrington d.1460, secondly William Lord Hastings executed 1483. Harrington died at Wakefield, leaving a daughter, Cicely only a babe, perhaps even born posthumously, a very rich heiress.  In 1474 Cicely was to marry Elizabeth Wydeville’s son, Thomas Grey Marquis of Dorset.  To return to Katherine much has been written elsewhere of her second husband’s life, and death and I won’t go into it here.  Mention though should be made of Katherine’s epic but ultimately unsuccessful struggle to finish the building of Kirby Muxloe Castle, begun by Hastings prior to his death.    In her will Katherine asked to be buried in the church of St Helen’s at Ashby de la Zouch close to the castle of that name also built by her husband.    Lord Hastings himself, was buried where he had requested in St George’s Chapel, Windsor,  close to the tomb of his bosom friend  Edward IV by a forgiving Richard III.  

 St Helens Church Ashby de la Zouch.  Enlargened by William Hastings and where Eleanor Hastings nee Neville requested to be buried. Photo Kim@Flikr

Margaret d.1506.  Buried at Colne Priory, Essex.  Married John de Vere Earl of Oxford in 1465.  Oxford led a full and varied career which is well documented and I will not go into here but needless to say his adventures caused many trials and tribulations to Margaret.  He died at Castle Hedingham on 10 March 1513 and was buried on 24 April with his ancestors at Colne Priory, alongside Margaret Neville his first wife as requested in his will ‘my body to be buried before the high altar of Our Lady chapel in the priory of Colne in the county of Essex in a tomb which I have made and ordained for me and Margaret, my late wife, where she now lieth buried’.…the last surviving sister of The Kingmaker.  

The Great Hall at Hedingham Castle, Essex.   Belonging to the de Vere family, Hedingham Castle was home to Margaret and her husband, John de Vere, the 13th Earl.  

For those interested in finding out more about the sisters I can recommend The Kingmaker’s Sisters by David Baldwin.  

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Being of somewhat a silly old romantic I was pleasantly surprised to read in the blurb of Kingsford’s Stonor Letter and Papers 1290-1483 that there were love letters to be found among them. And what could possibly be nicer than a medieval love letter? And there they were, letters from the three wives of Sir William Stoner c.1449-1494. I wonder if having kept these letters indicated that Sir William was of a romantic bent himself although to be fair all Stonor correspondence was kept so that would be pushing it a bit.

Sir William has an interesting history and was the recipient of some well known letters written by Simon Stallworth during the period just after Edward IV’s death and Richard III taking the throne describing the turmoil that was going on in London (1). Sir William did eventually choose to go over to the ‘dark side’ joining the Buckingham rebellion (why Sir William, why, why WHY?) but more of that later as I want to focus here on his wives letter to him. I should mention he couldn’t have been all bad as he managed to annoy Queen Elizabeth Wydeville who wrote a stiff letter of reprimand to him.

Sir William married three times, and although all three marriages would have been typical of the times, made to improve status and finances, these letters show that these marriages could often lead, happily, to love for the participants.

ELIZABETH RYCHE nee Croke d.1479

Elizabeth was Sir William’s first wife marrying him in the summer of 1475.  A rich widow, her husband Thomas Ryche was the son of Richard Ryche, a wealthy London mercer, her father John Croke was a London alderman.  Elizabeth had three daughters from her first marriage but no children with Sir William.  

The 12 September 1476 found a worried Elizabeth writing to her husband ‘gentyll Cosyn …I understonde that my brother and yowris is sore seke of the poxes. wherfore I am right hevy and sory of your beyng there, ffor the eyre of the poxe is fful contageous and namely to them than ben nye of blode.  Wherfore I woulde praye you, gentyll Cosyn, that you wolde come hedyr, yif hit wolde plese you so to doo &c.  And yif that hit lyke you not so to doo, lettith me have hedyr some horsis I pray you that I may come to you..ffor in good faith I can fynde hit in my herte to put my self in jupardy there as ye be, and shall do whilst my lyffe endurith.. For in good faith I thought never so long sith I saw you…         By your ovne Elysabeth Stonore.

Frustratingly the outcome of this situation has been lost to us.  Did William go to Elizabeth or did he send for his  ‘ovne Elysabeth’  to be with him? 

Nearly all of  Elizabeth’s letters touch upon her longing to see her husband such as one dated 22 October 1476, where she also mentions a ring he had sent her..

‘Sir, I pray you send me no more ryngis with stonys; ffore the ryng that you sent me be Hery Blackhall; the stone is ffallyn owght be the way and loste; wherffore I ame sory.  Good sire, let it not be long or I may se you; for truely me thynke right long syth I se you…’

At the end of the letter Elizabeth adds “My owne Cosyn, I sene you a bladyr with powdyr to drynke when ye go to bede, ffor hit is holsome ffor you…    Be your ovne to my powre Elysabeth Stonor.’  

Finally a puzzling comment from Elizabeth to her husband in a letter dated 7 November 1476, added at the end of the letter and in her own hand,  which I have yet to work out the meaning of…‘My owne good husbond I se well ye remembre the puttying at (……….) out of the bed when you and I lay last togedyr.    By your owne powre Elysabeth Stonor…

ANNYS/AGNES WYDESLADE nee WYNNARD d.1481

Agnes second wife to  Sir William,  widow of John Wydeslade, the son of a Devonshire squire and a great heiress in her own right.   Her letter to Sir William,  written sometime after the death of Elizabeth at the end of 1479, and  prior to their marriage in about May 1480.  Agnes was obviously already ill before their marriage and sadly died 4th May 1481.  Marriage childless.  

Regarding her illness Agnes explained ‘…The ffesisicion wolle do his cunnyng uppon me, but undertake me he wol not, never did noon in his liff.  Cumfort in hym I fynde, and in my mydne y thinke he wolle do me gode…..’  She goes on to say that she hopes that the ‘tyme of yhoure comyng, which y trust wolle not be longe.  Me thinkith a M. (month?) yere gon that y hurd any tidinges fro you’ .  She hopes that William has not thought her ‘own-kynde’ that she has not written to him since he was last at Wydeslade for ‘myn excuse is y have be in helle, where y had litel cumfort, but as sone as y cam to Exeter then y yn heven, and be cause that y am now in joy y do send you this letter….’  Agnes ends the letter ffrom your tru lover Annys Wydeslade.  

ANNE NEVILLE d.1486

Unlike William’s first two wives, rich widows, Anne  was younger than William.  Oldest daughter of that great Neville lord,  John Marquis of Montague who died alongside his brother, Richard Neville known as The Kingmaker at the Battle of Barnet 1471.  After the death of her brother George in 1483, Anne became a great heiress.   The only wife to give him children, a son John born August 1482 and a daughter, Anne. It may have been this marriage that led to the connection that Sir William had with Thomas Grey, Marquis of Dorset, one of the voracious, parvenu Wydevilles,  being son to Queen Elizabeth Wydeville/Woodville.  This was despite the fact that Anne had at one time been the ward of Richard duke of Gloucester later Richard III, whose coronation Sir William attended.  No doubt  Dorset had some part to play in the decision of William to rebel against Richard –  ‘his eventual attitude was probably determined by association with Dorset‘ –  an act which led to his attainment in 1483 leading to the temporary loss of his lands (2)   Ironically the last letter in the papers is from Sir Francis Lovell, written on the 11th October 1483 who endeavoured to ‘secure’ William’s support for Richard (3).  Sir William ignored the summons and foolishly joined the Buckingham rebellion.   However Ive gone off on a tangent here and so back to the letters…

The following extract is from a letter written approximately in 1482 shortly after their marriage when Anne was staying  with Cicely Bonville wife to Marquis of Dorset at Taunton Castle.

‘Syr, I recomaund me unto you in my most hertly wise, right joyfull to here of yowre helthe: liketh you to knowe, at the writyng of this bill I was in good helthe, thynkyng long sith I saw you, and if I had knowen that I shold hav ben this long tyme from you I wold have be moche lother then I was to have comyn in this ferre Countrey.  But I trust it shall not be long or I shall see you here, and else I wold be sorye on good feth….. And I beseche oure blessed lord preserve you’  Your new wyf Anne Stonor

Anne saw her husband attainted in 1483 but lived long enough to see him restored to his estates in 1485.

Stonor Park.  Chapel to the right.  Although very much added to and altered since the 15th century Sir William Stonor would still be able to recognise certain parts of the interior dating from the 13th century.

Sir William was buried in the old Lady Chapel at Westminster Abbey.   Only a  decade later his grave was lost when  the old chapel was demolished and  Henry Tudor’s  lavish Chapel built in it place.  Could his remains have been returned to his family at Stonor for reburial much as the remains of Anne Mowbray (another one turfed  from their grave at Westminster) had been returned to her mother at the Minories?  If so could he have been reburied in St Mary’s Church Pyrton where his father Thomas had been laid to rest in 1474?  I have been unable to find out where Williams wives were buried.  

St Mary’s Church Pyrton.  Sir William’s father was buried here 1474. Photo@Martin Beek

(1) See letters from Simon Stallworth to Sir William  dated 9 and 21 June detailing the turmoil taking place in London pp.159.160. Stonor Letter and Papers 1290-1483 Kingsford ed Christine Carpenter

( 2) Stonor Letter and Papers 1290-1483 p.61 Kingsford ed Christine Carpenter

( 3) Ibid p.418 

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And so Dear Reader, we are going to take a break from murderous queens, scheming duchesses,  bad kings, good kings, missing royal children and silly bishops.  We are going to take a look at London’s Old Gates.  Where were they positioned, how many were there, and what become of them?  Part of the old Roman and Medieval London Wall they were once the only exits and entrances into old London, unless of course you were leaving or arriving via old London Bridge although there were smaller postern gates here and there for pedestrians.  How did they they manage to survive and contain what would appear was  an unstoppable ever growing population? Well up until the late 16th century as can be seen by the map above late medieval London was still pretty much contained by its old walls but by the mid 18th century the Gates were destroyed in order to facilitate the widening of roads etc.,  Ah …. I understand it had to be but still, it makes the heart weep a little to think of these grand old Gates totally and utterly destroyed.  

There were seven gates – in no particular order….

Moor Gate.  Medieval.    Originally a small postern gate.    This was demolished in 1415 and Thomas Falconer, mayor,   caused London Wall to be breached near Coleman Street and a new postern to be  built to allow pedestrians to ‘walk by causeways out to the hamlets of Isledon (Islington) and Hoxteth (1).  Repaired in 1472 by William Hampton,  fishmonger and mayor,  the postern  was enlarged,  and  made higher so that the trained bands could march through with their pikes upright (2).  This was  after there were a couple of instances of eyes getting poked out – I made this last bit up but you never know!.     In June 1483  Richard of Gloucester, later Richard III  probably went through the Moor Gate to review his northern troops after their arrival and when they were encamped in the open fields between Moorfields and Holywell Priory (3).   After it was demolished in 1762 the stones were used to prevent London Bridge been washed away by the tide.

Stood approximately near the junction of Coleman Street and London Wall.

Moorgate c1483.  From the Copperplate map.  Drawn by Julian Rowe.  Illustration from Richard III The Road to Bosworth.  P W Hammond & Anne F Sutton

ALDERSGATE – Roman.   Probably linked with Watling Street.  In 1335 it was resolved that the gate should be covered with lead and, thoughtfully,  a small house made under it for the gatekeeper (4).  Stow explains how the gate was named NOT after the Eldarne (Elder?) trees ‘growing there abundantly‘  but for the very  ‘antiquity of the gate itself, as being one of the first four gates of the city, and serving for the northern parts,  as Aldgate for the east, which two gates, being both old gates, are for difference sake called the one Aldgate, and the other Aldersgate’.! (5). However its suggested elsewhere the name is Saxon and means Gate of Ealdred (6).  You can make your own mind up about that one.   In Stow’s time Aldersgate was one of the largest gates containing ‘divers large rooms and lodgings‘ with one floor being paved with ‘stone or tile‘.   John Day a famous  stationer and printer from Stow’s  time had living accommodation within the gate.

Situated opposite No.62 Aldersgate Street. 

ALDGATE – Roman.  Not to be confused with Aldersgate above – keep up Dear Reader, keep up! – known as Ealdgate by the Saxons for it was ancient even in their day.  It had two pairs of gates and two portcullis, which would later prove to come in handy (see below).  Geoffrey Chaucer leased the room above the Gate between 1374 and 1385.  In Stow’s time only one of these two gates survived although the hooks still remained.   This grand old lady came into play during the Wars of the Roses and no doubt probably got a bit bashed about.  I will here have to divert  briefly a little from the actual gate….  In 1471 Thomas the Bastard of Falconbridge aka Thomas Neville advanced upon London.  Reaching Southwark he demanded to be allowed to bring his men into the city.  This was refused (obviously).  In response Neville put Southwark to the torch.  He then begun a three pronged attack on London including one on our Aldgate.  I’ll let Stow tell the rest of the story – he does it so well…

‘…the rebels being denied passage through the city that way set upon Aldgate,  Bishopsgate,  Cripplegate,  Aldersgate,  London Bridge and along the river of Thames, shooting arrows and guns into the city, fired the suburbs and burnt more than three score houses. And further on Sunday the 11th of May,  5000 of them assaulting Aldgate, won the bulwarks, and entered the city but the portcullis being let down,  such as had entered were slain and Robert Bassett alderman of Aldgate ward, with the Recorder, commanded in the name of God to draw up the portcullis which being done,  they issued out and with sharp shot and fierce fight put back the enemy so far as Saint Botolph’s church by which time the Earl Rivers and Lieutenant of the Tower was come with a fresh company which joining together discomfited the  rebels and put them to flight …. Thus much for Aldgate’ (7). Phew!  

After demolition this doughty old gate was re-erected at Bethnal Green for a while.  

Stood approximately at  the corner of Aldgate and  Duke’s Place.

CRIPPLEGATE – Roman.  Possibly begun life as a postern.   Origin of name unknown.  Maybe from a regular meeting place of ‘cripples’ begging there or perhaps from the Anglo Saxon word crepel meaning an underground passage.   Stow wrote he had read that after the body of King Edmund the Martyr being brought to London in 1010,  and entering  through the gate,  ‘miracles were wrought as some of the lame to go upright,  praising God‘.   In 14th century room over gate used as a prison.  During the Wars of the Roses ‘Henry the six and Margaret of Anjou arrived at Cripplegate after their victory over Warwick the Kingmaker at Saint Albans in 1461. Pro Yorkist citizens promised him food as long as they kept out of the city but just as the wagons were rolling through the news came that Warwick and Edward,  later Edward IV were about to re-enter London. The wagons were called back and the Lancastrians had to retire hungry to the north’ (8)

Rebuilt in 1491. After being demolished in 1760 the materials were sold to a Mr Blagden, a carpenter of Coleman Street for £91..

Stood approximately at the junction of Wood Street and St. Alphage Gardens

NEWGATE.  As its name implies not one of the oldest gates but even so possibly in existence since 857 although Stow stated built in the time of Henry Ist c.1068-1135.   First mentioned as a prison in 1188.  In 1218 in ruinous condition.   Henry III wrote to his  Sheriffs of London demanding they rebuild the gate ‘for the safekeeping of his prisoners’.  Rebuilt again in the 15th century.  Rebuilt  after being destroyed by fire in 1555, 1628 and the Great Fire of London.  What a dolorous place – forever linked with Newgate Prison.  

Stood approximately at the junction of Newgate and the Old Bailey.

LUDGATE.  Traditionally said to have been built by King Lud, described as a Briton, in 66bc… maybe, maybe.     Roman connections and  led to a Roman burial ground in the area now known as Fleet Street.  Rebuilt 1215 using the stones from the Jewish peoples houses that were destroyed by the barons who were in opposition to King John.   Yet another gate used as a prison.  Stephen Forster, fishmonger and later Lord Mayor of London in 1454 was imprisoned there as a boy for debt.  In 1463 with the input of  Stephen’s widow, Dame Agnes,  improvements were made to enlarge and improve the prison including having lodgings and water ‘free without charge’.  Stow writes of a plaque that was once fixed there inscribed ‘graven in copper‘  –

Devout souls that pass this way

For Stephen Forster, late mayor, heartily pray

And Dame Agnes his spouse to God consecrate,

That of pity this house made for Londoners in Ludgate

So that for lodging and water prisoners nought here pay,

As their keepers shall all answer at dreadful doomsday.’

Amen to that..and Bravo to Stephen Forster and his good wife Agnes! 

Rebuilt once more in 1586 and repaired after the Great Fire of London 1661.

This gate stood opposite St Martin’s Church.  

Bishops’s Mitre at the junction between Bishopsgate and Wormwood Street
 

BISHOPS GATE – Stow speculated built by a Bishop of London.  If this is so, this Bishop’s name so long dead is now forgotten.  Its a great shame for his name should ever be remembered for the ease he generously gave to Londoners in enabling them from making what was a very long and winding journey for those wishing to travel north east.    Prior to this the intrepid traveller’s journey would have entailed passing out through Aldgate, turning east towards Mile’s End, then turning left to Bethenhall Green (Bethnal Green), Cambridge Heath and then north or east depending upon the destination.  The alternative was torturous and convoluted via Aldersgate street towards Isledon (Islington) signposted ‘ by a cross of stone on the right hand, set up for a mark by the north end of Golding Lane, to turn Eastwood through a long street, and till this day called Alder Street to another cross standing, where now a Smith’s Forge is placed,  by Sewers-ditch (Shoreditch?) church, and then to turn again north towards Tottenham, Enfield, Waltham etc’…what happened if the Smith had upped and left taking his Forge with him is anyones guess.  

Edward V, one of the ‘Princes in the Tower’ would have entered London through Bishops Gate escorted by the Duke of Gloucester, after King Richard III May 1483.  

Stood opposite Camomile Street.

Bishopsgate.  c1483.  From the Copperplate map.  Drawn by Julian Rowe.  Illustration from Richard III The Road to Bosworth.  P W Hammond & Anne F Sutton

And here endeth our brief trip around the Old Gates of London.  Much more can be found online for those that wish to find out more.  

1) A History of London p.128.  Stephen Inwood.

2)  The London Encyclopaedia  p.542.Edited by Ben Weinreb and Christopher Hibbert 

3) Richard III The Road to Bosworth p.117 P W Hammond and Anne F Sutton

4) The London Encyclopaedia  p.13.Edited by Ben Weinreb and Christopher Hibbert 

5) A Survey of London 1598 p50.  John Stowe

6) Ibid p.48

7) The London Encyclopaedia  p.13.Edited by Ben Weinreb and Christopher Hibbert 

8) Ibid p.217

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A tantalising glimpse of  an ancient passage leading to Abbot’s Court and the steps leading up to Jerico Parlour.  The Abbots House, known in the 15th century as Cheyneygates, later known as The Deanery, was situated to the right of the steps.  Photo Dr John Crook Country Life Picture Library.

It’s known well how that old fickle wheel of fortune dealt with Elizabeth Woodville/Wydeville, taking her up, taking her down, whirling her around a couple of times and then dumping her, finally, in Bermondsey Abbey, where she died, the impoverished mother in law to the Tudor King, Henry VII.

Her story has been told elsewhere but I would like to focus here on her last stay in Cheneygates, part of the Abbots House complex in Westminster Abbey.   It seemed she liked it there,  after all it was very convenient  being just over the road from Westminster Palace where her daughter Elizabeth of York , now Queen, would often stay, because she took out a  40 years lease which has survived to this very day.  However as they say man makes plans and the gods laugh because her son-in-law and his advisers, sagely decided to call time on her sojourn there and with another and final spin of that old wheel of fortune off she went to Bermondsey Abbey which is yet another story.

How did Elizabeth come to rent Cheyneygates?  When her husband Edward IV died suddenly in April 1483,  Elizabeth – and her family –  attempted to take control of her eldest son, the new king, Edward V, in order to maintain their hold on power.  This was completely riding roughshod over her very recent deceased husband’s will and with hob nail boots to be precise.  The Woodvilles endeavoured, foolishly and unsuccessfully,  to outmanoeuvre Richard, Duke of Gloucester, her husband’s only remaining brother, who had been named in Edward’s will as Lord Protector ( 1 )  No doubt it dawning on the Woodvilles they would  not fare so well under Richard as they did under his brother, they attempted to override  him entirely and there is good reason to believe that there was a plot to assassinate him  while on his journey to London possibly near the Woodville stronghold at Grafton Regis.  However he confounded them, and on 30 April 1483 he removed Edward from the control of the Woodvilles at Stony Stratford after arresting  Elizabeth’s brother, Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers and her son, Sir Richard Grey.  When tidings of this event reach London ‘the following night‘ Elizabeth panicked (2 ).   For reasons at the time best known to herself, Elizabeth wasted no time in skedaddling over the road and into sanctuary at Westminster Abbey – the Abbots House known as Cheyneygates to be precise – taking her remaining and no doubt confused children with her.  In her scramble to take as much stuff with her as she possibly could,  a hole had to be  knocked in the wall separating the abbey from Westminster palace to accommodate all the treasure and other loot she’d grabbed. Not very dignified, but then dignity was not uppermost in her mind at that point.  According to Thomas More,  the Chancellor, Bishop Rotherham also in a rush,  took the Great Seal to Elizabeth at Westminster and  found ‘much heaviness,  rumble, haste and business, carriage and conveyance of her stuff into Sanctuary; chests, coffers, packers, fardels trussed all on mens backs; no man unoccupied, some lading, some going, some discharging, some coming for more, some breaking down the walls to bring in the nearest way, and some yet drew to them that helped to carry a wrong way (3).

And so ensconced there she remained for the foreseeable future.  How that panned out is well known now but back to Cheyneygates…..  On the 10 July 1486 the following lease was drawn up  –

THE LEASE TO THE WIDOWED QUEEN. 

This eindenture made bitwene John by the sufferaunce of god Abbot 
of the Monastery of seint Peter of Westm' the Priour and covent of the 
same of the one partie And the most high and excellent Princesse 
Elizabeth by the grace of god Quene of England late wyf to the moost 
mighty Prince of famous memore Edward the iiij th late Kyng of Englond 
and of Fraunce and lord of Irelond on the other partie Witnesseth 
that the forsaid Abbot Priour and Covent consideryng and wele re- 
membryng that the forsaid excellent and noble pryncesse in the tyme 
of her said late husbond our alder liege lord was unto the said Monastery 
verry especiall good lord aswele in protectyng and defendyng the libertes 
& ffrauncheses of the same as in bountevous and largely departyng of 
her goods to the edifying and reparacions of the ffabrice of the said 
monastery by the hole assent concent & will of all the Captre have
graunted dimised and to ferme letyn unto the forsaid Quene a mansion 
with in the said Abbey called Cheynegatis Apperteynyng unto the 
Abbot of the said place for the tyme beyng with all the Howses 
Chambers Aisiaments and other Appertenaunces therunto belongyng 
To have and hold the forsaid mansion with Thappertenaunces and 
other premisses to the said Quene from the fest of Ester last passed 
before the date herof unto thende of the terme of xl yeres then next 
folowyng and fully to be complete Yeldyng therfor yerely to the same 
Abbot or his successor or theire Assignes x w of lawfull money of Englond 
duryng the said terme to be paid atte festis of Mighelmas and Ester by 
even porcions And the forsaid Quene at her propre costis and Charge 
shall sufficiently repaire uphold and mayntene the said mansion and 
voide dense repaire and make the gutter goyng from the kechen of the 
same as often as shall be necessary and behovefull And atte ende of 
her terme the said mansion with Thappertenaunces sufficiently repaired 
mayntened and upholden yeld up unto the forsaid Abbot Priour and 
Covent and theire Successours Also it is covenanted and agreed bitwne 
the parties abovesaid that the said Quene shall in no wise sell lete 
to ferme nor aliene her said yeres nor eny parte therof in the said 
mansion with Thappertenaunces to any other person or persones duryng 
the said terme And the Abbot Priour and Covent and their successours 
forsaid the said mansion with thappertenaunces to the said Quene in 
the manner and fourme aboverehersed shall warant ayenst all people by 
these presents Provided alwayes that yf it shall happen the same 
Quene to dye within the said terme of xl yeres as god defend that then 
this present graunt and lees immediately after her decesse be voide and 
of no strengthe And over this it is covenanted and agreed that yf it 
happen the said Rent to be behynd unpaid after any terme of the termes 
abovelymytted in party or in all that is to say the Rent of Mighelmasse 
terme at seint Martyns day in wynter then next folowyng and the Rent 
of Ester at Whitsontyde then next ensuyng that then it shalbe leefull 
to the said Abbot and his Successours in the forsaid mansion with the 
Appertenaunces to reentre And the said Quene therfrom to expelle 
and put out this lees and dimyssyon notwithstanding In Witnesse &c 
Yeven the x day of Juyll the yere of our lord god mcccclxxxvi And the 
first yere of the reigne ofkyng Henry the vii (4)

Despite scenes in the tv dramatisation, I use the word loosely,  of  Philippa Gregory’s  ‘White Queen’ which portrayed Elizabeth and her daughters languishing in what appeared to be a dank cellar with damp, dripping walls, Cheyneygates, being part of the Abbots House complex would have actually been extremely luxurious.  Tragically Cheyneygates/Abbots House, later known as the Deanery after the Reformation,  was destroyed during the Blitz in 1941.  I have unfortunately been unable to find any illustrations of Cheyneygates in the 15th century.

Old, atmospheric photo of the Archway in Abbots’s Court leading out and into the cloisters as well as the exit to the outside world.    Elizabeth and her family would have gone through this ancient archway which has remained unchanged throughout the centuries to enter and leave Cheyneygates.

Jerico Parlour and Cheyneygates c1910.  Illustration by Herbert Railton.  It can be seen that even before the bomb destruction the Abbots House and Cheyneygates exterior facade were much altered since the 15th century.  However one of the upstairs rooms was still known as My Lady’s Bedchamber in the 18thc.  Could this ‘Lady’ have been Elizabeth Wydeville?

This photo shows the Jerico Parlour as it is today, middle of the picture with steps.   Cheyneygates would have stood where the  modern white building stands on the right.    College Hall to the left.  No doubt Elizabeth would be able to recognise the scene today although Cheyneygates is sadly much altered.  

A different view of the ancient passage way leading to Abbot’s Court.  Elizabeth and her entourage, daughters, brother Lionel and small son would have approached Cheyneygates via this passageway and trod these very flagstones..

‘The Abbey of St Peter and Palace of Westminster about the year 1532’.  Illustration by A E Henderson F.S.A 1938.  The Abbot’s House complex circled in red.  College  Hall stands to the left, Jerico Parlour at the back and Cheyneygates to the right.  Cheyneygates overlooked the Great Cloister.

An old plan of Westminster Abbey showing Abbot’s Court.  The Abbot’s House/ Cheyneygates , is here called the Deanery which it became known as after the Reformation.  Note the site of the Refectory where Margaret’s Beaufort’s body was taken from Cheyneygates to lie in repose before her burial.

College Hall.  Built by by Abbot Litlyngton along with the Jerusalem Chamber c1376.  The roof is  original.  There was a dais at the far end where the Abbot and his guests would be seated.  The gallery dates from the 17th century.

It was in College Hall that Dean Stanley writing in the 19th century suggests that Elizabeth and her group would have been met by Abbot Esteney on their hasty retreat from the palace (5).  And there she was sat, according to Thomas More, when Bishop Rotherham found her  ‘alone, low down on the rushes, all desolate and dismayed‘( 6).  And who could blame her to be honest as reality kicked in and she realised the game was well and truly up.  Rotherham apparently tried to reassure her that all would be well, in fact he left the Great Seal with her but the very next day realising he had done something really silly he sent someone to get it back.  

Pretty soon Richard uncovered the depth of Elizabeth’s plotting.  The 10 June found him writing in haste to York for extra troops to  ‘eide and assiste us ayanst the Quiene, hir blode adherentts and affinitie, which have entended and daily doith intend, to murder and utterly destroye us and our cousyn, the duc of Bukkyngham and the old royall blode of this realme…’ (7).   And so begun Elizabeth’s second stay in the Abbot’s house.  Eventually, and pragmatically,  she reconciled with Richard and sent her daughters out of Cheyneygates into Richard’s care, whereupon probably the older ones breathed a massive sigh of relief.  The rest is history and after Bosworth in 1485, having taken out a 40 year lease on Cheyneygates,  she returned to live there, perhaps she had never left.   However the lease came to nothing as a short while later she was sent to live out her days at Bermondsey Abbey by her son in law, a canny Henry Tudor,  no doubt comfortable but according to her will impoverished –   Sic transit gloria mundi.  But wait!  As it transpired she was not the last lady of the nobility to be a tenant at Cheyneygates  – Margaret Beaufort, Henry Tudor’s  mother, decided she wanted to live at Cheyneygates too and indeed it was where she died on the 29 June 1509 (8 ).  How strange, the richest woman in England with numerous properties had to have the very property where Elizabeth Woodville resided if only for a short while.  Was it that Margaret, Elizabeth’s one time fellow conspirator,  just had to have  something that the ex-queen once had as she also  had to have the prayer book of Richard III or indeed his crown for her own son – or – am I being a tad cynical…? Hmmmm!.

Elizabeth Woodville, in her glory days before it all went pear shaped.  This is the earliest known version of the many copies of a now lost original portrait of Elizabeth which was possibly from a likeness of her taken when she was alive.  The Royal Collection.

For those who wish to delve deeper into the history of the Abbots House and Cheyneygates a link to an interesting book The Abbots House at Westminster; J Armitage Robinson 1911 can be found here.

(1). This is complex.  For the best and fullest explanation of this situation I would recommend Annette Carson’s Richard Duke of Gloucester as Lord Protector and High Constable.

(2) Richard III The Road to Bosworth p.99 P W Hammond and Anne E Sutton
(3)  Richard III The Great Debate p.47 Thomas More.

(4) The Abbot’s House at Westminster.  1911 J Armitage Robinson

(5) Westminster Abbey p411 1869 Dean Stanley

(6) History of King Richard III Thomas More

(7) Richard III The Road to Bosworth p.103 P W Hammond and Anne E Sutton

(8) The King’s Mother p.237.  Jones and Underwood.

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Well that old wheel of fortune could certainly whizz around and no more so than in the lives of the women of the nobility from the turbulent times we now know as the Wars of the Roses.  An example of one of these ladies is Anne Herbert née Devereux countess of Pembroke.  Anne born c.1433 was the daughter of Sir Walter Devereux (1411–1459) and Elizabeth (d. 1438) daughter and heir of John Merbury.   In 1449 Anne was married to William Herbert first earl of Pembroke (c.1423-1469) at her family home at Weobley.  Anne’s father agreed to pay a dowry of 500 marks, to provide ‘meat and drink’ for Herbert ‘and forty of his men and their horses’, and to pay for Anne’s ‘apparrell competent pertaining to her degree’ (1). However it would all be worth it,  the marriage proving to be successful producing a massive brood of at least ten offspring including William jnr and Maud.  William jnr, aged about ten,  would marry Elizabeth Wydeville’s sister Mary also aged about 10,  and after her death, Richard III’s illegitimate daughter Katherine –  I will return to William jnr and Katherine later –  while instructions were left in her father’s will dated July 16th 1468 that Maud was to marry ‘Lord Henry of Richmond’ ie Henry Tudor:

I will that Maud, my daughter, be wedded to the Lord Henry of Richmond; Ann to Lord Powys; and Jane to Edmund Malafant (2)

As we know this marriage never came about,  Henry instead marrying Elizabeth of York and Maud, Henry Percy Earl of Northumberland,  yet another Herbert ward.  Yet another daughter, Margaret, married the notorious Sir Henry Bodrugan.

William had received the custody and marriage of Henry Tudor on the  12 February 1461 when Henry was four years old and was sent to be brought up in Anne’s household at Raglan Castle with the rest of the Herbert children.  She must have been a kind and loving guardian as when Henry Tudor usurped the throne in 1485, as a result of the outcome at Bosworth, one of his earliest actions was to send for her to come to him in London.   But we have galloped away here too fast and will return to Anne’s earlier life.  Both Anne and her husband although from staunch Yorkist families (both Herbert and his  father served in France, his father in Richard Duke of York’s retinue) they had once supported Henry VI but as the tricky situation between the king, who was mentally unstable, and York developed, deteriorated and grew ever more turbulent, Herbert, his loyalties strained,  threw his lot in with York – and to be perfectly honest who can blame him – but I digress.  Herbert assured York in May 1454 that he was ‘noo monis mon but only youres’ (3)  It must have been a worrying time for Anne as she sat in Raglan castle with her brood of children and of course young Henry, as well as other ladies of the nobility, as their menfolk thundered about the countryside, sometimes losing, sometimes winning and sometimes off into exile only to return, invigorated and ready for more.  In Anne’s case, at that moment in time, her husband was victorious and although York was to lose his life at the battle of Wakefield on the 30 December 1460  his son Edward would go on to win a decisive victory at Tewkesbury  and finally claim the crown as his own.  This led to the glory years for Anne and her husband.  He was to become a cherished and well rewarded follower to the young king.  Rewards were showered upon him including Privy councillor to the new king,  Chief Justice of North Wales for life,  Knight of the Garter,  custody of the Stafford lands during the Duke of Buckingham’s minority and Lordship of Pembroke.  Created Baron Herbert he was now an extremely wealthy man, his income amounting to £3200-3300 per annum.  Heady days indeed for both William, who had became known as Edward’s ‘master-lock’, and Anne.

Anne Devereux and her husband Sir William Herbert kneel before an unnamed king, presumably Henry VI.   John Lydgate’s Troy Book and Siege of Thebes c.1457 with later additions.  @British Library

However around the wheel spun and things took a dangerous and downward turn when the earl of Warwick and the king’s brother George duke of Clarence, both increasingly  alienated from Edward,  enraged by the rise and rise of the voracious,  parvenu Wydevilles – and who can blame them – rebelled.  Unfortunately for Anne her husband was now as heartily hated by Warwick as much as the Wydevilles – perhaps for somewhat different reasons – and his luck had begun to run out.  William’s history with Warwick went back a long way and indeed he had once been Warwick’s Steward and Sheriff of Glamorgan in 1449-53 (4).    No doubt one of the reasons for Warwick’s hostility towards his erstwhile friend was when Edward made the decision In 1461 to make William chief Justice and Chamberlain of South Wales as well as transfer to him the offices and custody of the estate all previously granted to Warwick.  And so friends that had once rode together,  fought together and perhaps even laughed together become mortal enemies with devastating results.  This was the tragedy that was the  Wars of the Roses.   The wheel was spinning and after a skirmish at Banbury in 1469 an argument ensued about billeting between William and Humphrey Stafford Earl of Devonshire.   Some have said the argument was about a woman but is it likely a woman would be a priority for them with the battle of Edgcote about to take place the next day?    However after Devonshire stormed off in a fit of pique, taking his archers with him, William  was left in a vulnerable position.  Although stories of how courageously he and his brother, Sir Richard of Colebrook, both fought wielding poleaxes the fight was lost.  Sir Richard is said to have twice passed through the ‘battail of his adversaries’ armed with a poleaxe and ‘without any mortal wound returned’ (5).  Both were taken prisoner and executed the next day.   With  his impending death staring him in the face, William wrote out his last poignant will,  almost a love letter,  to his clearly beloved wife:

‘..And wyfe, thwt ye remember your promise to me, to take the ordre of wydowhood, as ye may be the better mayster of your owne, to performe my wylle, and to help my children, as I love and trust you, &c…. Wife pray for me, and take the said ordre that ye promised me as ye had in my lyfe, my heart and love….’

’’Item, I to be buried in the Priory of Bergavenny under charge; bytwene my fader’s toumbe and the chancell, and the cost that should have be at Tynterne to be set upon the chancell, as my confessor &c. shall say; and you my wife and brother Thomas Herbert, &c.’

It can only be imagined how Ann’s tears fell when she read this.  She adhered to her late husband’s wishes and never married again.  A famous Welsh poet of the time, Gutor Glyn,  dedicated one of his poems to her… 

a wife has been equally endowed, possessing a hundred rents

to maintain Gwent after her husband …

You are an Isolde fiercely grieving for Tristan

after your husband, Ann,

a Martha in the vigour of martyrdom,

a mournful Mary after her brother’s death …

Gwent has a ring and mantle,

never was there a fairer face in black.

William’s wishes in regard to his place of burial were not carried out because for some reason lost to us now, he was buried at Tintern Abbey and not the Herbert Chapel, Priory of Bergavenny (Abergavenny) close to his parents as well as his brother Sir Richard Herbert of Colebrook and his wife Margaret.     A large chest tomb near the high altar at Tintern  destroyed during the Dissolution is said to be that of William and Anne although William Hampton in his book, Memorials of the Wars of the Roses, goes with Abergavenny  being the place of burial as nominated in the will.  It must be said that there is no sign of a tomb for William and Anne in the Herbert Chapel at Abergavenny.  

Tintern Abbey: The Crossing and the Chancel, Looking towards the East Window 1794. Joseph Mallord William Turner. Tate Gallery.  Burial Place of Anne and William Herbert.

William’s parents, Sir William ap Thomas d.1445 and  Gwladus/Gladys Gam d.1454, effigies on top of their tomb in the Herbert Chapel, Priory of Abergavenny, where William requested to be buried. Sir Richard of Colebrook, William’s brother and executed with him also lies buried here with his wife Margaret.  Gladys Gam was the daughter of ‘Davy’ Gam made famous by Shakepeare’s mention of his name being among the English dead at Agincourt in his play ‘Henry V’. Photo @Rex Harris

William Herbert’s mother Gwladys/Gladys Gam was a celebrated beauty in her time and known as the Star of Abergavenny.  A Welsh poet described her as ‘like the sun – the pavilion of light’.  Photo @ Rex Harris

After her husband’s death, which was shortly followed by the death of his nemesis, Warwick, little is known about Anne in her widowhood.  However on the death of king Edward IV and Richard III’s arrival on the throne, her son William jnr, now a widower was honoured by Richard when he was given the hand of the king’s illegitimate daughter, Katherine in marriage.  This marriage was of short duration as it appears Katherine died young and without issue.  What would have become of Anne’s daughter-in-law after Richard’s death at Bosworth is anyone’s guess.  At the very least she may have been an embarrassment to the Herberts.  Indeed William Hampton posed the question was Katherine Plantagenet the reason why Anne was summoned by Henry Tudor in the aftermath of Bosworth?  We  know now that Katherine was laid to rest at St Jamesgarlickhythe close to the London home of the Herberts while William was laid to rest in 1491 besides his first wife Mary Wydeville at Tintern Abbey where, it is said, both his parents lay buried together.

Raglan Castle.  Where Anne would have spent most of her time raising her children and the young Henry Tudor.  Note the resident cat!

Another artist’s impression of the beautiful ruins of Tintern Abbey resting place of Anne and William Herbert.  Artist Thomas Baker, British, 1809-1969.

1. Herbert, née Devereaux, Anne, countess of Pembroke (c.1433-1486). Laura Richmond. Oxford DNB.

2. Testamenta Vetusta p.304

3.  Herbert, William, first Earl of Pembroke ODNB R A Griffiths.  Quoting Pugh, The Magnates p92
4.  Warwick the Kingmaker A J Pollard p94

5.  Herbert, Sir William, Earl of Pembroke ODNB.  Sidney Lee.  Published 1891.

If you enjoyed this post you might like my post on Katherine Plantagenet found here

Continue reading “THE MEDIEVAL BED – A PRIZED POSSESSION”

Edward IV and Elizabeth Wydeville.    Original 15th century stained glass panels.   Royal Window North West Transept Canterbury Cathedral

Canterbury Cathedral, of all the cathedrals I have managed to visit, remains firmly on my ‘favourites’ list. I lived there for a while many years ago, having been entranced by the city and cathedral on one visit. In those far off days as it was free to visit the Cathedral, which was very handy as money was in short supply, I spent many a happy lunchtime wandering about that wonderful place and grew familiar with its many interesting spots, such as where Thomas Becket was slain, where Cardinal Morton, Good King Richard’s nemesis, once lay buried, his grave now empty and the beautiful tomb of Edward the Black Prince. But my favourite spot was to stand and gaze up at the glorious windows, known as the Royal Windows, depicting Edward IV and his family. From their likenesses in those windows they all appeared to be very good looking, quite beautiful in the Queen’s case, and the people of that time who visited the Cathedral must have been proud of their handsome royal family. Of course it was to end tragically but that is covered elsewhere and so…. back to the windows..

Edward commissioned these windows, which were glazed by William Neve, about 1480, having been a frequent visitor to Canterbury. They were badly damaged in 1643 by an over zealous and obnoxious Puritan, Richard Culmer, who left a description of himself in the very act of destruction ‘on top of the citie ladder, neer 60 steps high, with a whole pike in his hand ratling down proud Becket’s glassy bones’.(1).  Later this odious man relieved himself in the Cathedral as he was too afraid to leave being in fear of the crowd  which had gathered outside and  was ready ‘to knock out his brains’(2 ). He sounds a right little charmer!

The late historian John Ashdown-Hill stated that the faces of Edwards sons, Edward of Westminster and Richard of Shrewsbury,  are modern restorations as is the portrait of Cecily, which I believe actually represents her sister  Mary.  The original stained glass panel depicting Cicely/Mary is now in the Burrell Collection in Glasgow where it also is identified as Cicely. However the figure John Ashdown-Hill identified as Cicely  ( the daughter with the restored face, last figure on the right) at Canterbury is clearly identified at the bottom of the glass  as  Mary/ Marie. Why Mary should be at the end of the row of the sisters ,not being the youngest, is a puzzle as she was the second eldest. However its possible that Mary who died in May 1482 while the windows were still being created was placed at the end being deceased.  It is equally puzzling why Cecily, being third but second surviving daughter would be at the end of the row of daughters too.   In any case Cicely would surely have been one of the three sisters depicted together being third daughter, second to survive.

Modern restoration of Cicely shown behind her sister Katherine.  Royal Window Canterbury Cathedral.  The inferiority of the copy is very plain to see.  

All in all I am happy to ascribe the last figure on the right which has been restored as that of being Mary but having said that I have a sneaky suspicion that the names beneath each sister  at the bottom  of the panels may have got so totally muddled  over the centuries that we are all barking up the wrong tree and it could be any one of the five daughters.  But still the most important thing we must rejoice in is that these windows have in the main survived.

The three daughters identified at the bottom of the glass as Elizabeth of York, Cicely and Anne.  

The faces of the two sons of Edward, Edward of Westminster and Richard of Shrewsbury are said to be modern restorations.  

As pointed out by John Ashdown-Hill the faces can clearly be seen are not up to the same standards of workmanship as the rest of the panels.

The face of Elizabeth Wydeville has been damaged in the same attack made by Richard Culmer.  Now restored.  This would appear to be a very accurate likeness.  Compare it to Elizabeth’s portrait in the Luton Guildbook.

Elizabeth Wydeville.  The Luton Guild Book.

And now to Edward.  Edward’s face has been broken but expertly restored.

Edward IV.  His portrait appears to depict a lean and  handsome Edward in his glory days before he become a couch potato.  

Edward IV and his oldest son, Edward Prince of Wales, Canterbury Cathedral.

The Royal Window in its entirety.

If you enjoyed this post you might also like 

https://sparkypus.com/2020/08/03/those-mysterious-childrens-coffins-in-edward-ivs-vault/

https://sparkypus.com/2020/07/06/mary-plantagenet-daughter-of-edward-iv-elizabeth-wydeville-a-life-cut-short/

https://sparkypus.com/2020/05/27/the-mysterious-death-of-edward-iv/

https://sparkypus.com/2020/05/27/the-mysterious-death-of-edward-iv/

(1) Culmer, Cathedrall Newes, 22

(2) Culmer, A Parish Looking-Glasse

Richard brought to Greyfriars for Burial.  Artwork  Emma Vieceli

And so once more the awful date has come and gone.  Many fictional Ricardian novels  have been written based on Richard and his life but surely the scenes of the aftermath of Bosworth in We speak no Treason written by the late Rosemary Hawley Jarman must rank amongst the most moving.    Many Ricardians will already be familiar with this book but for those who have not yet read it,  part of the story is told through the eyes of the Maiden who had ever loved Richard from when she was  a young girl and,  after losing him from her life,  events  had led to her becoming a nun.   She had not seen Richard for many years but in the aftermath of the battle Richard’s body has been brought to her convent to be laid to rest by loving hands.    

‘Men came to kneel by me,  first one cloaked like the stranger, then another still clad in harness and with a neck wound from which the red oozed wearily,  then four or five together. One of these wore a hermit’s robe carelessly donned with the strength of his mail winking beneath it.   They say that the church filled up from the porch to rood screen with men who entered like ghosts and wept like babes.   There were running feet and a voice that burst through the whispering silence with  ‘My Lord! My Lord Lovell!’ –  crying that they were hanging the prisoners and fugitives in Leicester market and Lovell must fly at once,  and for answer came only the deep,  dreadful sound of men’s grief,  the hasty feet clattered nearer and stopped short, the voice said “Ah Dickon!’ as a child might wail in the night, then swore like a man in the face of murder. And the church was filled with love and hate and vengeance, and a heaviness that one could touch with the hand…. Then suddenly Ursula came, hurrying, hobbling in, smiling joyfully,  her eyes blinking joyfully like a mole in the dark.  unseeing and heedless of the silent work, the sadness or the Mother’s prone, praying form beneath the candles, she came while the ranks of  mourning men parted for her.  It was days since she last left her cell.  In her arms she carried a sheaf of satin riches, green as love, each shining rose perfect and proper, each spray a living frond, each colour a jewel, with the stern words of the Absolution limned like lustrous soldiers around the edge.  ‘I’ll make penance for the rest of my days’ she said in a joyous whisper.  ‘I’ve missed Mass,  I’ve missed confession but, Oh Lord,  sister!  ‘Tis finished!  Is it not fair’.    She came close blind to the grief or the figure on the bier.  ‘And for you child, see!’   with a daring, naughty look.   ‘So small and in his honour too’.   She had fashioned a silver Boar in each corner.  ‘Ursula, I said, Ursula’.  She did not hear me.  She was looking at his body, his murdered naked body, so white so still.  ‘Ah!’ she said with deep compassion.  ‘Ah the poor young knight’..

And she unfurled the beautiful frontal like a banner.  It was heavy, but with one movement of her old arms, she threw it out upon the air, so that it caught and glowed in the light, green, the colour of hope, with its roses like stars, its crosses of flame and the eternal words of the Absolution tall and clear. And it fell,  as she had intended,  upon the body of Richard and he lay beneath it wrapped in green fire and was magnificent’.

Miss Jarman,  who had the most extraordinary ability to paint pictures with words, captured the essence of Richard’s character so well  when  a character in the book,   upon catching  sight of him  whispered “Jesu how he shines‘...and so he did. Loyaulté me lie.

Artwork  Emma Vieceli

NOTE: It should be remembered when this book was published in 1972 it was still believed by many, including the author, see R.H.J’s Forward, that after the Dissolution of the Monasteries Richard’s remains had been disinterred and thrown into the River Soar. Of course we now know the truth and that Richard’s remains have been reinterred with the honour due to him at Leicester Cathedral.

Portrait of an Unknown Lady formerly known as Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury by an unknown artist c.1535.  National Portrait Gallery

For many years this was believed to be  a portrait of Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, daughter of George Duke of Clarence, and  niece to two kings,  Edward IV and Richard III.  Intriguingly the lady is wearing a black ribbon around her wrist with a jewel of gold fashioned like a little barrel.  Surely this would indicate this portrait is indeed Margaret and of her tacit recognition and acknowledgment of her father’s death by drowning in a butt of Malmsey?  Unfortunately we do not know whether Margaret did in fact wear a piece of jewellery such as this or not but it would come as no surprise if she had.  Margaret was known for her feistiness such as when she actively encouraged Princess Mary’s refusal to return her jewellery to her father, Henry VIII,  so that Anne Boleyn could wear them.  Poignantly Margaret holds a Honeysuckle flower, symbol of devotion and love.  

However I was disappointed to see  this portrait, in the National Portrait Gallery , is now described as that of an Unknown Lady, formerly known as Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury.  Baffled by this turnabout I contacted the Gallery who very kindly clarified the matter for me.

Close up of the barrel jewel attached to the black ribbon and the W monogram.

In 1963 the portrait underwent detailed investigation by the Gallery’s Scientific Department the results of which showed

‘what appeared to be  extensive repainting,  including the ermine spots on the headdress, scumbling on the white fur of the sleeves, also the ermine edge to the bodice ‘ (1).   Worse still,   ‘the gold barrel shaped jewel  was almost certainly a  later addition as almost certainly were the black ribbon and W monogram jewel.  Without stripping the picture it would be impossible to access how accurately it recreates motifs originally there and how far it is fictitious’  However the report goes on to say there is, so far, no reason why the portrait in its original condition should not have represented Margaret Pole, so there is still hope, although  ‘ these doubts may only be resolved by the reappearance of another  16th century picture of her that was known to have existed.  The W shaped jewel is inexplicable unless the portrait was intended  for her granddaughter Winifred'(2). I am grateful to the National Portrait Gallery Archives for this information’ 

Could it possibly be a direct descendant  of Winifred had these additions added to the portrait in homage and to draw attention  to Winifred’s noble lineage? The portrait was once at  Barrington Hall– Winifred Pole had married into the Barringtons and the family prided themselves on their descent from her.   To make matters worse  the Roy Strong catalogue suggests this could be a 17th or 18th century Barrington lady dressed up as the Countess!   Bad news, maybe, for those who once believed this was without a doubt a portrait of Margaret.

However the  matter is  further muddied by notes from Hazel Pierce’s biography of Margaret – Margaret Pole Countess of Salisbury, Loyalty, Lineage and Leadership,  which state:’ The panel is of oak and tree ring dating suggests that it was felled in 1482 thus the most likely period of use is believed to have been between 1515 and 1525 ‘(3).  The notes go on to say that ‘Initially it did appear that the ermine spots on the outer part of the headdress had been painted over the original craquelure, which indicated that these were later additions along with the ermine spots on the outer sleeves.  However when the portrait was finally cleaned in 1973 the ermine spots did not disappear, neither did the barrel bracelet or the ‘W’ suspended from the sitter’s fingers, which suggests they may have been original after all.  The barrel will refer to Clarence and the W to Warwick.  Therefore the results of the cleaning result once more to the portrait being an authentic likeness of Margaret, Countess of Salisbury’ (4).

So there we have it. The final cleaning in 1973 outdates the 1963 information suggesting that the barrel and ermine were added at another date…sigh of relief!   However casting aside for one moment the two reports both of them from experts surely its obvious that the portrait of the older Margaret bears remarkable similarities with that of the young,  fuller faced Margaret,  as drawn by Rous?

.

Margaret as a young girl from the Rous Roll

Margaret Pole nee Plantagenet?

Can anyone else see the similarity with the almond shaped eyes and small rosebud lips? Or is it just me?  Rous would have known Clarence and his family by sight so we may deduce this drawing is a true likeness of the young Margaret.  I will leave it to you, dear reader,  to make your own mind up…

(1) Roy Strong Tudor and Jacobean Portraits 1969 p 272

(2) Ibid

(3)  Hazel Pierce Margaret Pole Countess of Salisbury Loyalty, Lineage and Leadership p.198

(4) Ibid