Margaret of Anjou and Jacquetta

On Suffolk's second expedition to France in 1445 to collect henry's bride and escort her to England, he took with him Jacquetta, the former duchess of Bedford, as well as her husband Sir Richard Woodville.The choice of Jacquetta was probably judicious. She spoke French and had been brought up as the daughter of a Count, Margaret's exact status. Jacquetta was about 15 years older than the young Margaret, a mature woman who could calm the nerves of a young girl now propelled to the pinnacle of English society.

What little evidence we have suggests that the two women got along well.  Jacquetta was taken on as one of Queen Margaret's ladies when they came to England and several gifts from Margaret to her were recorded. These gifts may perhaps be taken as an indication of that regard.

Margaret of Anjou

At a crisis point in February 1461 Jacquetta was called upon by the mayor and aldermen of the City of London to mediate with Margaret when she held a rampant army at the city gates. Margaret's forces had just defeated the earl of Warwick at the second Battle of St Albans and after finishing off the duke of York at Wakefield on 30 December 1460, this should have proved decisive for the Lancastrian cause. But Margaret had the political equivalent of a tin ear. Her troops had plundered and laid waste many parts of the country and they continued with their merry destruction after St Albans. The city of London was nervous, and with good cause, so they did not immediately open the gates and sought assurances from Margaret. Hence they sent out the duchess of Bedford, who they clearly felt would have Margaret's ear and that they would get a fair hearing about their concerns.

Assurances were given and the city fathers agreed to admit Margaret and her forces. Who knows what might have happened after that, but any potential for destruction or even establishing firm government was forestalled.  The citizens disagreed with the decision of the mayor and aldermen and refused to open the gates, and, led by John Lambert, father of Elizabeth Shore, later a mistress of Edward IV and known to history as "Jane" Shore, they put up sufficient resistance so that Margaret decided to turn back to her secure territory in the midlands.

This may be regarded as a significant turning point in the struggle for power known as the Wars of the Roses.

A few months later Margaret's cause was lost at the battle of Towton. Jacquetta's husband and sons decided to realign their fortunes to the Yorkist cause and we may imagine that Jacquetta and Margaret never met again for the rest of their lives.

The Wedding at Titchfield Abbey

Just to the north of the village of Titchfield in Hampshire is an old stone bridge which crosses the River Meon. Locally it is known as the"Anjou Bridge." This stone bridge dates from 1625 and doubtless there were earlier wooden bridges at this narrow crossing and it was this bridge that Margaret of Anjou crossed with her retinue to meet her husband Henry VI at Tichfield Abbey. The date was April 22nd 1445 and there she was married to Henry with the bishop of Salisbury officiating.

The "Anjou Bridge" with Titchfield Abbey in the background.

There is little trace of the abbey today. It was acquired by Sir Thomas Wriothesly, later Baron Titchfield an later still earl of Southampton in 1539 and he immediately set about converting the abbey into a splendid Tudor country house. Of that only the gatehouse and some walls survive.

Margaret was 15 years old and Henry eight years her senior and this day was the culmination of a good deal of diplomatic effort over a protracted period. It was a highly political marriage with a great deal at stake, for the English at any rate, and it turned into a major political miscalculation by the English.

Activity around the idea of a marriage went back to the beginning of 1444 when the English were trying to construct a truce. French resurgence since the time of Joan of Arc made the English hold on Normandy increasingly tenuous and expensive and some breathing room was required. A marriage for Henry, now in his early 20s seems to be a way of securing this. Charles VII of France was amenable to the idea, but he would not propose his own daughters and attention then fell upon Margaret of Anjou. Her father, Rene, duke of Anjou was a cousin to the Valois king but other than that had little to offer. He had wasted a good part of his life pursuing his phantom title to the kingdom of Naples and bankrupted himself in the process. Therefore Margaret came only with a name and a dowry.

However, the English government was interested. The arrangement promised a two year truce with the prospect of negotiating something of longer duration, and in a spirit of optimism Margaret was married at the church of St Martin at Tours on 24 May 1444 to Henry VI. Standing in as proxy for the king was William de la Pole, earl of Suffolk. Once the diplomatic business of the marriage and the truce was effected, the earl returned to England.

Six months elapsed and Suffolk, newly promoted to marquess, returned to France to escort Margaret to England. He was accompanied by Sir Richard Woodville and his wife Jacquetta. They were to spend some time in France. Margaret was unwell at this time and the winter weather that followed did not allow a crossing so it was not until April of the following year that they were able to ross the Channel.

The party landed at Porchester on 9 April but Margaret was again unwell. It seems to have been something more than sea-sickness as it was described as caused  'of the labour and indisposition of the sea by occasion of which the pocks broke out upon her.' Whatever the complaint, it kept her down for seven days.

The chroniclers are vague about what happened to her. Gregory say that she went to Hampton (Southampton) to rest in God's House, before returning to Titchfield. Gregory says that she went to Southwell (probably meaning Southwick) and Fabyan's Chronicle also records that they were married at Southwick. It may be hard to make sense of all this. Porchester had been converted to a royal palace by Richard II and was perfectly able to accommodate large retinues. It was a practical place to house Margaret's party. There was a connection with the Priory of Southwark since it was at one time within the walls of Porchester Castle until they decamped for their own place a few miles north in the middle of the 12th century and it is possible that Henry himself was staying there. It would make better sense for him to be lodging at Titchfield; otherwise why hold the ceremony there rather than Southwick? Margaret may have been taken to God's house at Southampton because there were men there who could minister o her sickness. She would have been taken by water (by far the fastest way to travel) and returned to Porchester ready to progress to Titchfield.

Initially the marriage was considered a success by the English public since it promised years of peace in the future, but it quickly unravelled. In July a French embassy came to England to discuss a further truce and of course they wanted something in return. The County of Maine, at that time a buffer state between French Anjou and English Normandy, was desired by the French. Both Henry and Margaret, already asserting herself, were party to the negotiations and Henry gave a private undertaking to cede Maine to France in return for a 20 year truce. Suffolk and a few others were involved but the treaty was a secret one and by 22 December Henry agreed in a letter to surrender Maine by 30 April 1446.

Had this resulted in the intended peace the trade may not have been such a bad one but the Maine garrison, who had not been consulted or informed, refused to surrender. Charles chose to consider this a breach of the treaty and marched into Maine in February 1448. Two weeks later it was his. The following year he marched into Normandy and within two months had taken Rouen. Everything was quickly lost and England's presence in France was now reduced to the Pale of Calais.

The Last Knight Errant

Detractors of the Woodvilles tend to skate over the life of the youngest son Edward. He was too young to be of any political significance during the reigns of Edward IV, Richard III and Henry VII, but in any case, his aptitude and interest was soldiering and he went out of his way to be in the thick of the action. Christopher Wilkins has written a full biography, The Last Knight Errant, which throws light on his somewhat obscure life.

Edward Woodville was the last Woodville with a significant reputation and he died as he had lived as a fighting man. Soldiering was very much in the Woodville tradition. His grandfather and father had been soldiers, as had two of his older brothers and they all had good reputations. Edward revelled in it. While his elder brothers Antony and John had been recognised as skilled jousters they appeared to have broader interests. Antony held a high reputation on the jousting field but was a complex man who tended to avoid the uncertainties of battle where he could. Edward actually sought out battles.

He was the youngest of the Woodville brothers. As with all of them his birth date is uncertain but it was probably c 1458.  He followed in the footsteps of his father and older brothers and became a military man.

The first record that we have of him is in April 1472, when he accompanied Anthony to Brittany with 1,000 archers. There may have been little action but at the apprentice age of 16 this was his first exposure to a military campaign.

Presumably he was on hand in the following years but there was not much military engagement during Edward’s second reign.  In 1478, he appeared at a tournament held to celebrate the marriage of young Richard, Duke of York, to Anne Mowbray; his horses were resplendent in cloth of gold.  Later that year, and he was then 20, he was sent to Scotland to negotiate a marriage contract between the widowed Anthony Woodville and Margaret of Scotland. He was accompanied by the much more experienced John Russell, Bishop of Rochester, who was presumably the lead negotiator, while Edward was there to represent his brother’s interest.  Nevertheless it was a significant posting and may signify that he could be trusted with such roles. The parties agreed a treaty with a dowry of 4000 marks to be paid by the Scottish King James and a wedding was planned for October. In the end the marriage did not come to pass as the Scots continued to raid the northern border of England and King James began to prevaricate.

Two years later in 1480, Edward Woodville was assigned the governorship of Porchester Castle. This had been under the control of Antony and it is perhaps a recognition of Edward’s growing maturity and competence that he was given this responsibility. Porchester had been an important fort since Roman times  and it had been refurbished and rebuilt during the reigns of Richard II and Henry V and was gradually taking over in importance from Southampton. Portsmouth was also becoming a naval centre as activity shifted away from Southampton. Together with Carisbroke Castle, also under the command of Antony Woodville, Porchester formed a key defence for the south coast. As commander of Porchester and governor of Portsmouth Edward was now able to learn about maritime matters.

That year he was sent to Burgundy to escort Edward IV’s sister Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy, to England for a visit.  He took with him twelve servants dressed in the York livery of ‘merry and blue’  (maroon and blue) and he was granted a yard of purple velvet and a yard of blue velvet so that his tail could make suitably resplendent clothing.

And so it was not until 1482, when Richard, Duke of Gloucester, led an army against the Scots, that Edward Woodville participated in military action. In this campaign he served as one of Richard’s lieutenants, with five hundred men in his force. This would suggest that he was experienced enough in arms to undertake this kind of leadership. As he moved north he was commissioned to recruit men and there was the option to make payment in lieu of service. The town of Coventry, we learn,  contributed twenty pounds in lieu of men.

Since the embassy of 1480 the Scots had continued to make border incursions and the northern lords, and indeed Edward himself, were determined to bring this to an end. Richard, duke of Gloucester, as warden of the north was placed in charge. The expedition was successful and the town of Berwick was restored to English control and has remained a part of England ever since. The campaign overall was successful and Richard of Gloucester emerged with great credit, not only for the military success but the diplomatic solution afterwards. Edward must have distinguished himself as Richard made him a knight banneret on July 24, 1482. The two men, brothers in arms in the summer of 1482 found themselves enemies in 1483.

The following year was of course momentous. In April 1483, Edward IV died. Edward Woodville took part in his funeral procession, and it was while he was at sea on a campaign against Philippe de Crèvecoeur, known as Lord Cortes, that word reached him of Richard’s coup at Stony Stratford. Edward V’s council had appointed Edward Woodville to deal with this French threat and had a fleet of ships at his disposal. At the time it was a straightforward appointment; he was the leading naval figure. However, that authority was put into question after Richard gained control and ordered that Edward Woodville be seized at Southampton.

Sir Edward may not have been aware of these orders. On May 14 he  sailed into Southampton Water and captured a French ship which was carrying a huge amount of gold amounting to £10,201. He appropriated this in the name of the king and prepared and signed an indenture to establish that this was not an act of piracy. He wrote that in the event ‘that it can be proved not forfeited unto the King . . . He (Sir Edward) shall repay the value of the said money in English merchandise within three months . . . If the said money is to be forfeited the Sir Edward be answering the King.^⁠1’ He also styled himself in this document  ’Sir Edward Wydeville, knight, uncle to our said sovereign Lord and great captain of his navy.” None of this reads like a man intending to raid the English treasury and defect to Brittany and the indenture was sent to the king’s council.

In London, policy was turning 180 degrees. Cortes was no longer a French invader but a victim of Sir Edward. Richard was prepared to do a deal with Cortes and restore his ships and goods.

Mancini reported that two of the ships, under the command of Genoese captains, encouraged the English soldiers on board to drink heavily, then overcame the drunken men and tied them up with ropes and chains. With the Englishmen immobilised, the Genoese announced their intent to return to England, and all but two of the ships set out for Southampton. Sir Edward Woodville was left with two loyal ships, The Trinity and The Falcon and having grasped the new reality, sailed on to Brittany, where he joined Henry Tudor, with, presumably, since it was never heard of again, the £10201 in gold coins.

When Henry sailed to England in the autumn of 1483 to join the abortive rebellion against Richard III, it seems likely that Edward would have been with him, since his brothers Richard and Lionel were involved in the rebellion and his brother-in-law the Duke of Buckingham was the highest-ranking rebel. In the event, Henry sailed into Poole harbour but, suspecting that the friendly soldiers who urged him to disembark were supporters of Richard III, sailed back to Brittany.

The Crowland chronicler described Edward as one of his leaders at the battle of Bosworth: a “brother of Queen Elizabeth and a most courageous knight.” He was rewarded for his support and was granted Porchester (previously held by him) and the Captaincy of the Isle of Wight, which included the lordship of Carisbrooke Castle. The Captaincy of the Isle of Wight was an important post, formerly held by his eldest brother Antony and historically held by the Redvers barons of Devon.

Sir Edward Woodville remained single and led the life of a libertine. We will never know if he would have grown out of that. It is not an unfamiliar pattern for young men to ‘sow their wild oats’, especially, as a younger brother, there was no dynastic pressure on him. His contemporary John Paston followed this path, chasing women constantly until at about the age of 30 he decided to settle down. Mancini, when reporting Edward’s licentious activities included Edward Woodville as one of the king’s dissolute companions.

He seems also to have inherited some of Antony’s other titles because it was as “Lord Scales” that he went to fight the Moors in Granada, serving in the armies of Ferdinand and Isabella. Here he earned some European fame as the Conde de Scala (count of Scales.) Spain was undergoing political transformation. The kingdoms of Aragon and Castille had become united through the marriage of the two monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, and a concerted effort was being made to drive the Moors out of Southern Spain. The struggles attracted mercenaries.

Edward must have been leading one of these groups when he arrived at Seville in 1 March 1486. Although settled in high office at home in England he must have fond life too dull and leapt at the opportunity for some real action. He had 300 men under his command, 100 were described as archers and 200 as yeomen.This phase of the Spanish campaign was fighting against a divided Moorish kingdom, but nevertheless it was still strong. As edward arrived at Loja the Spanish troops were trying to establish camp when they were ambushed by the Moors. Edward spied an opportunity to attack a Moorish weak point and asked permission of King Frednand to attack This was given and he led a  foot charge against the Moors with his men fighting in a wedge formation.

A full account is given by the Spanish chronicler Bernàldez::

Dismounting from his horse and armed with sword and battle axe, he charged forward at the Moorish host before them all, with a small company of his men, armed like himself, slashing and hacking with brave manly hearts, killing and dismounting the enemy left and right.

This inspired the Spanish.

The Castilians, seeing his charge, rushed on to support it, following on the heels of the Englishman with such valour that the Moors turned tail and fled.^⁠2

The next stage in the fight was to scale the walls and Sir Edward was not above leading his men in this dangerous mission.

Unfortunately just as the suburbs were carried, the knight, as he was mounting a scaling ladder, received a blow from a stone which dashed out to of his front teeth and stretched him senseless on the ground.

There seems to be no doubt that his charge against the Moors was pivotal to the outcome of the battle and although he played no part in its conclusion he was acknowledge and richly rewarded by the king and queen. Isabella sympathised with the loss of his teeth and he is said to have wittily replied: “Christ, who reared this whole fabric, has merely opened a window, in order more easily to discern what goes on within.” In an age before the invention of false teeth it did nothing for his appearance, or perhaps even for his speech. Edward was sent home to England with a rich array of gifts, including twelve horses, two couches, and fine linen.

Those who know about the development of medieval tactics in warfare will not that by marching with his men in a tight disciplined group Sir Edward was at the forefront of military thinking. This technique of mixing trained knights with ordinary soldiers had been pioneered successfully by the Swiss and more forward thinkers adopted this approach, hitherto lights and ordinary foot soldiers fought in separate groups on either side, but by mingling lights and men at arms with ordinary infantry proved to be a much better fighting unit.

He was back in England in 1487 fighting for Henry VII against forces led by John de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln, in support of Lambert Simnel, a young pretender to the throne. After three days of skirmishing near Doncaster, Edward’s troops were forced to retreat through Sherwood Forest to Nottingham. At the Battle of Stoke, however, where Edward Woodville commanded the right wing, victory went to Henry VII.

In May 1488, possibly by this time in his thirtieth year, and in his prime as a soldier Edward asked Henry VII to allow him to assist the duke in fighting the French. Henry VII, who was seeking peace with France, refused the request, but Edward ignored this and returned to the Isle of Wight, where he raised four hundred and forty “tall and hardy personages” and sailed to Brittany. Edmund Hall, writing in his chronicle in the next century suggests his motive as  “either abhorring ease and idleness or inflamed with ardent love and affection toward the Duke of Brittany.”

When he arrived in Rennes he was greeted with enthusiasm. Two barrels of claret were rolled out and consumed in their honour and as they were paraded in the Boute de Cohue square a further two barrels of white wine were opened. Musicians played and there was great celebration. Sir Edward himself snd his close entourage are treated to a great banquet. When news got back to the French they were incensed and made representations to King Henry who denied supporting the expedition and assured them he would not break the truce that existed between them. The truce however masked French preparations. The Bretons became alarmed and began to assemble an army over the summer , but the English force of Edward Woodville was probably the only professional force there. Somewhat late in the day his expedition did get official sanction in the end and Henry sent reinforcements, but the French arrived in Brittany before this could be done.

The French forces were overwhelming. Edward was in the vanguard leading 2000 men  and as they charged they were overcome by the superior French forces. Edward was killed together with many of his men. The Breton forces broke and the battle ended in a rout. It was the end of an independent Brittany.

A grey stone monument marks the battle at St. Aubin-du-Cormier on July 22, 1488. Amongst those recognised fighting for the Breton cause on that day are: “Lord Scales and 500 English archers.” Edward Woodville  had fought his last battle.

It is intriguing to ask what drove a man like Edward Woodville. He was as talented an athlete as his father and older brothers Antony and John but he was distinctive in that he deliberately sought glory on the field of battle. The other Woodvilles fought when need be and used their talent to grace tournaments in peace time. Edward clearly relished the risk and thrill of battle. Antony had at least two opportunities to fight on foreign fields but declined on both occasions. Edward was only too eager to get into a fight and travelled great distances at some expense to find glory on the battlefield.

According to Mancini, and this is the only reference, Edward was something of a libertine. He wrote that “although [Edward IV] had many promoters and companions of his vices, the more important and especial were three of the . . . relatives of the queen, her two sons and one of her brothers.”   Her two sons in this instance were the older Greys, both of whom had a reputation that is reported elsewhere and it must be assumed that the Woodville brothers the high profile Edward. Antony had a respectable, even pious, reputation; Lionel was a bishop; and Richard seems to have led a quiet life. So one concludes that Edward is the Woodville mentioned here.

When was Elizabeth Woodville born?

I have just read a Wikipedia article which gives the date of Elizabeth Woodville's birth as 3 February 1437. Oh really? The truth is that we have no evidence at all for her date of birth and that is the case for every one of the Woodville children. We can speculate and make informed estimates but however we do this we are groping in the dark. In any case, the February 3rd date seems far too early, for reasons which I will outline.

The portrait above is attributed to John Stratford who was appointed by Edward IV as the King's painter in 1461. The attribution was made by William A. Shaw in a 1934 article for the Burlington Magazine about Early English Portraiture. As an expert in this field he was may have been right about the approximate date, based on stylistic analysis and given the tools at his disposal in 1934, but in more recent times other experts have questioned the originality of the work and it is suggested that the portrait is a copy of a lost original.

Now the interesting piece of information for the historian is the inscription in the top left corner in gold lettering. It is not clear in this image but it reads: "Aetat SVE 26, Anno Dom 1463." which translates as: "Aged herself 26, 1463." That seems clear enough and we can deduce that she was born in 1437, that she was 27 when she married the 22 year old Edward IV, and that she was 42 years old when she gave birth to her last child Bridget in 1479. This is all quite plausible and 1437 is the generally accepted date for her birth.

However, I would like to raise a flag. 1463 seems a highly unlikely date for the portrait to be painted. At the time she was the widow Grey and probably not on the king's radar. Even if he was showing interest in 1463, arranging for her portrait would have been a highly public and expensive undertaking and given the secrecy of the wedding in 1464 would seem to be quite unwise. In any case she would have been known as Lady Grey at that date. It would be more plausible if the portrait was undertaken after the marriage and prior to the coronation, therefore at any time between October 1464 and may 1465 and one would lean to 1465 as the preferred date. If indeed it was painted as early as this at all.

This portrait resembles in its pose several other extant portraits of the queen and it is likely that the original of these was painted after 1471, when Edward returned to the throne. The earliest surviving painting, from the royal collection, now in the Ashmolean Museum, is thought to have been painted between 1513 and 1530, and all of the other portraits are, like this one, much more precise and skilfully painted than the Ashmolean portrait.

Elizabeth Woodvile from the Ashmoleum Museum, painted c 1513-1530

A further mystery surrounding the painting at the top of this article is that it was owned by William Shaw himself, apparently, and its whereabouts today is unknown. The only evidence of it is a colour photograph in the Connoisseur Magazine published in 1911.

So we have to ask ourselves if we can take any of this 'evidence' seriously. Dr William Shaw was a respected academic but it does now seem odd that this portrait has never come to light. Queens' College are quite polite about this: 'The portrait has never been reported by anyone other than Dr Shaw, and its present whereabouts are unknown.' However, being less well-mannered, I am inclined to ask if this was ever a genuine portrait, but merely a copy made by someone in the 20th century with the inscription that communicated the message that the generator of this page intended. This was after all the era of the Piltdown Man and the Loch Ness Monster, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle fell for some contrived photographs that purported to show fairies at the bottom of the garden. Have no basis other than a suspicious mind to make any accusation against Dr Shaw but I don't think we should put any energy into trying to explain these dates.

Which brings me back to the beginning. We really do not know when Elizabeth was born.

We have one date to guide us and that is 23 March 1437, when Duchess Jacquetta and Sir Richard Woodville were fined £1000 for marrying without the king's permission. The duchess was noticeably pregnant at the time so an earlier union must be presumed. We could suppose that the first child was born later that year.

But was it Elizabeth? Antony we believe from other evidence was born c 1440, although that could have been as late as 1442. He was definitely the eldest male to survive childhood. Elizabeth is also believed to be the eldest daughter and the birth of two sons by  her first marriage would support that view. Her eldest, Thomas, was probably born c 1455, and while some argument can be made for 1452, the later date is more likely. If we take 1455, that would make Elizabeth 18 at the birth of her first child, which seems lateish. Were she born in 1439, she would then be 16.

Bear in mind that she was probably married as a child. Her sister Jacquetta was married in 1450 and it seems to me that must assume that Elizabeth was married to John Grey either at the same time or earlier. It cannot be, in my view, that younger daughters were married before older sisters. This being the case, she probably moved to the Grey household and lived there until the pair were old enough to consummate the marriage. We should take into account too that the later disputed grant of three manors to the young Greys was made in 1456, probably after the birth of the first son and in expectation of a second. This should also incline us to a 1455 year of birth for Thomas Grey.

I should also mention in this context that there were some other Woodville children who probably died young. A fragmentary note written by Robert Glover, a herald in the 1567, lists the children of the Woodville family and in addition to those we know about there was a second  Richard, a Louis and another John. As there was both a John and a Richard who lived to adulthood we might guess that these other boys died young. Richard, of course, would be an expected name for the first-born son. Sir Richard Woodville's father was Richard, and it was entirely conventional to name the first born son after the paternal grandparent. Louis was probably named after Jacquetta's brother, who by this time was Count of St Pol. So there is room for at least two births before 1439. Could they both have been boys?

Possible of course but pure speculation. I do however incline to a 1439 date  for Elizabeth's birth. If she were born in 1437 she would be a full five years older than Edward and that has always seemed a lot to me, particularly t that age. Edward was 22 in 1464 and five years was practically a quarter of his life. Three years might seem a lot less.

The only definitive statement we can make about the birth year of Elizabeth Woodville is that we don't know it and may never know it.

The Honour of Grafton

In 1542 Grafton was transformed from a relatively unimportant manor to the centre of a large collection of estates in South Northamptonshire - the "Honour" of Grafton. The term dates from feudal times when a barony, often including manors from several counties became known as an "honour."

Henry VIII amassed the manors of Abthorpe, Alderton, Ashton, Blakesley, Blisworth, Cold Higham, Furtho, Grafton Regis, Greens Norton, Hartwell, Passenham, Paulerspury, Potterspury, Roade, Stoke Bruerne, Shutlanger, Silverstone, Towcester, Whittlebury, and Yardley Gobion, and  Whittlewood Forest. It was therefore a huge and coherent tract of land encompassing a large part of south Northamptonshire - the hundreds of Cleyly, Greens Norton and Towcester, mostly. This is quite a contrast to the honours established during the time of William I, which were usually scattered manors in several counties.

Grafton at this time became known as Grafton Regis, a name which it still holds. Henry VIII liked this manor and went there frequently every summer and as a result of the park he created was able to enjoy hunting there.

The honour eventually passed to the 2nd duke of Grafton in 1705. The 1st duke of Grafton was Henry Fitzroy, Charles II's illegitimate son by the duchess of Cleveland, The dukedom dates from 1675. The 2nd duke established Wakefield Lodge as his primary residence since Grafton House was occupied at the time by his mother and her second husband.

Paul Murray Kendall and the writing of History

 Paul Murray Kendall was an American academic and writer (1911-1973) who made his name in the 1950s with a very good book on Richard III and others on 15th century history. I have just been reading his book on Warwick the Kingmaker and came across this passage.

On November 9th he entered Westminster Hall, accompanied by a retinue of attendants. Numbers of men of the royal household lounging about the hall glowered upon the party. After Warwick had gone on alone into the council chamber, the King's menials began to jeer at the men who bore the badge of the Ragged Staff. The language grew hot on both sides. Someone drew a dagger. In an instant men were slashing at one another with whatever weapon they had at hand. Up from the pantries and the kitchens streamed servants of the King brandishing knives and cleavers -

In the council chamber Warwick heard desperate cries of 'Warwick! Warwick!' He rushed into the great hall, was immediately beset by men of the royal household intent on making an end of him. Surrounded by his outnumbered retinue he fought for his life. His friends from the council forced their way to his side. Slowly they cut a path down the hall. Once they were in the open air, Warwick and his men made a break for the barges. Just in time they pushed out into the Thames beyond the reach of their pursuers.

This is brilliant writing. He creates a scene and carries the tension and desperation of the moment through his short punchy sentences. He draws a picture of a great hall where most were gathered and a private chamber for the council meeting. The kitchen must have been below stairs. But where did this information come from? Men running up from the pantries and kitchens brandishing knives and cleavers. Really?

So I went back to the sources to find out what people actually wrote at the time:

The xxx vij. yere, the kyng and the quene beyng at Westminster, the ix. day of Nouembre fylle a grete debate betwene Richard ere of Warrewyk and theym of the kynges hous, in so moche that they wolde haue sleyne the erle; and vnnethe he escaped to his barge,

(Stowe Chronicle, ed Davies p. 78)

There is not much to go on here, but the London Chronicle adds a little more detail.

In this yere, after Candelmasse, a man of therle of Warwyk smote a seruaunt of the kynges in Westmynster hall; wherwith the kynges howsold meyny were wroth, and came owte with wepons, and some for hast with spittes, for to haue slayn therle; but the lordes that were his frendes conveyed hym to his barge; how be it many of his howsold meany were hurt. And for this was great labour made to the kyng to have had the seed Erle areasted; but he Incontynently departed the town toward Warwyk.  (Chronicle of London, ed Kingsford)

So this is the source for Murray Kendall's purple passage. The facts we have here are the date, Candlemass - November 9th, the location - Westminster Hall, that one of the earl's men hit one of the king's men, that it got out of hand, that some of the lords friendly to Warwick protected him as he made his way to the barge, that he made a hurried escape.

It seems probable from this account that words were spoken which provoked one of the earl's men to shove or hit the other. There is little doubt that the atmosphere at court was hostile to Warwick, and there were some there whose fathers had been killed three years earlier at the Battle of St Albans. The charge he had come to answer had nothing to do with this. Since tensions were high, many more got involved  and before too long weapons were out. Some grabbed spits, which may have been at hand, but Kendall interprets this as men rising from the kitchens with knives and cleavers. He also supposes that there was a separate council chamber but this is unlikely. The purpose of a great hall was to conduct the king's business in a public theatre. Warwick was there for a dressing down over his piratical behaviour in the English channel. It would not do for this to be done outside the ears of the court.  The hall in any case was not for the general public or even the kitchen staff, who in any case would have been in a separate building in the 15th century; the "below stairs"  kitchen only became common in the 19th century. But the lords and court officials would be in attendance. Whatever justice was to be delivered onto Warwick needed witnesses.

There were lords there who would have happily run through Warwick with a sword, if they dared, but were probably content to stand by. If Warwick was killed in the fracas their hands would be clean. Nevertheless, if this were to happen it would have been a scandal that would be difficult for the monarchy to live down. Perhaps even the myopic Margaret of Anjou could see that. Warwick still had friends at court and they most likely offered him a protective cordon so that he could reach his barge. The atmosphere was certainly hot and the Stowe Chronicle reports that the earl feared for his life.
It is reported here that there were those who pressed the king, probably led by the duke of Somerset,  to have Warwick, arrested, but the bird had flown.

There is no doubt that the writing of Paul Murray Kendall makes for bright and entertaining reading. He adds colour to the narrative, but perhaps there is too much fictional flesh and too little historical bone here, which brings me to the purpose of this post. It is surely the job of the historian to construct some sort of narrative from meagre sources of information. The historian also has to assess the reliability of the source against other known facts. It is a difficult intellectual exercise and will rarely lead to a fluent narrative. The historical novelist is quite free to stretch and embroider and imagine in order to create a satisfactory reading experience. I contend that the historian, however intuitive, will never have this freedom.

This is not to say that history is not subject to changing interpretations; reading the literature on Richard III, for example, over the past 100 years should be sufficient to convince one that a wide range of interpretations of the same event is possible. The evidence does not change (except in rare instances) but new reading of the evidence is always possible, and an historian is quite entitled to argue the case.

As an illustration, it is possible to infer from the above Chronicle entry that the hostility towards Warwick may have had something to do with the first Battle of St Albans in 1455. At that battle two of Warwick's bitter enemies, the earl of Northumberland and Lord Clifford were killed. Also done to death was the duke of Somerset, arch rival to the duke of York. Other casualties in this short street battle were light so it is legitimate to suspect that these men were deliberately targeted. However there is no accusation on record to support this suspicion, which is not to say that the suspicion is unfounded. One might therefore wonder if there was more behind this scuffle in 1458 than Warwick's recent freebooting in the Channel. It is a legitimate query, which the historian can raise, but not answer.

To be fair to Paul Murray Kendall, he was well aware of what he was doing. He, when "confronted with a handful of documents—odd moments of personal history fortuitously preserved—[was] forced to make biographical bricks with very little straw." His method, as illustrated in the above passage, is to bring his own detail to the narrative. Which may be fine, but, as I have already indicated, he makes some anachronistic errors. He takes the use of the words "king's servants" in an 18th or 19th century sense as the 'king's menials'. They were more likely court officials - office holders, scribes, guards. Kitchens in the Middle Ages were separate buildings. Fire was a recurrent hazard and if you look at the ruins of any medieval building it is apparent that these buildings were detached. So the idea of kitchen servants rushing upstairs with cleavers and meathooks is pure fiction. So too is the idea that Warwick was off in a separate council chamber when the ruckus started. As I have suggested above it is more likely that Warwick was present in the Great Hall. 

The issue I have with Paul Murray Kendall's presentation is that he describes an event as it happened, rather than as it may have happened. While I agree that such phrases as "it is likely that" or "it is probable that" make for very tedious reading, I contend that it is the historian's job to distinguish between the facts we know and those which are a matter for speculation.

Richard Wydeville as a Jouster

Sir Richard Woodville was a skilled man at arms, possibly one of the leading jousters of his day. The Close Rolls contain this entry in 1440 which shows that  a lot of expense and trouble was to be taken to set up this event in Smithfield.

1440 Nov. 10. Westminster

To the treasurer and the barons of the exchequer. Order to view the king's command to the sheriffs of London, and to allow them in their account at the exchequer all sums of money which by oath of the sheriffs or their deputies they shall be assured are spent by virtue thereof ; as Peter de Vasques of Spain knight, coming of late to England with licence of the king, has challenged Richard Wydevyle the king's knight to certain points or feats

of arms, and the king has gladly granted licence for the same, and has ordered the sheriffs at his cost to erect lists and barriers of timber at ‘Westsmythfelde’ in the suburbs of London by 26 November instant, and to cover the ground within the lists with sand for the purpose, so that there be no let or obstacle there by stones or otherwise, and further by advice of John duke of Norffolk marshal of England to construct a place there for the king suitable to his royal estate.

[Foedera.]

This was an international tournament and the honour of the country was clearly at stake, so we may presume that Sir Richard was chosen as the champion, the best of his time. He was probably in his mid 30s and at the peak of his experience. Jousting was a brutal sport. The men were not fighting with play swords but with real weapons and usually the tournament would be fought until one man yielded. From the Chronicle of London we might gather that both men were a match for each other and before any serious damage could be done, as the men reached for their pole axes, the King intervened and called "Hoo!", bringing the match to a draw with no honour lost on either side.

In this same yere, the morwe after seynt Katerine day, was a chalange in armes provyd afore the kyng, withinne lystes mad in Smythfeld, betwen Sr. Richard Wodevill, knyght of Engelond, and a knyght of Spayn, whiche knyght for his lady love shulde fyghten in certeyn poynts of armes, that is to seye, with ax, swerd, and daggere; and or thei hadde do with the polax the kyng cried, hoo. (In this same year, the morning after St Catherine's Day [Nov 25th], was a challenge in arms before the king, at the Smithfield lists, between Sir Richard Woodville of England and and a knight of Spain, and would fight for their lady love with axe, sword and dagger. When they got to the point of using a pole axe, the king cried, "Hoo!")

In the previous year on Shrove Tuesday he jousted with Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk at the Tower of London. There is no other detail but it may add to the impression that Sir richard Woodville was one of the premier jousters of the day.