Were the Yorkists really Plantagenets?

On August 1st Edmund Mortimer, Earl of march, rode to Porchester castle to inform Henry V that there was a plot afoot to unseat him from the throne. Mortimer himself was one of the protagonists and indeed the objective of the plotters to place him on the throne due to his lineage from Lionel, Duke of Clarence, which in the minds of some trumped Henry’s own descent from John of Gaunt, a younger son of Edward III.

The plot itself was poorly conceived and poorly planned and it may have been an awareness of its poor potential that brought about Mortimer’s last minute attack of cold feet. The men he betrayed, Richard, Earl of Cambridge, Henry, Lord Scrope of Masham and Sir Thomas Gray of Heton were quickly arrested, tried and executed at Southampton. Henry acted ruthlessly. This was on the eve of the expedition to France and he had no time to waste. It is possible that in a more tranquil moment that the plotters would have been treated more leniently. Earlier plots, including two involving Edward, Duke of York and Constance, Lady Despenser,  were potentially more dangerous than this poor excuse for a plot, but in both instances the protagonists were let off relatively lightly. But in 1415, on the eve of an important invasion, three of the plotters chose the wrong time and the wrong place. The Earl of March, who does not appear to have inherited many of the characteristics of his illustrious predecessors was allowed to live out his natural life. He died in 1425.

The leader of this little cabal was Richard, Earl of Cambridge. He was the second and youngest son of Edmund of Langley, Duke of York, another younger son of Edward III. Richard was born in 1385 and had spent most of his life as a rather forgotten man in the political life of the time. He was only elevated to the status of Earl in 1413 when he was granted the redundant title of Earl of Cambridge, originally held by Edmund of Langley. Unfortunately for Richard, the title came without land or income and as T B Pugh has observed, he became the first man in English history to hold a courtesy title. Nevertheless he was still required to  live up to the status of an earl. He was, for example, required to raise as many troops for the invasion as his father-in-law, the very wealthy Earl of March. He may have had good reason to feel ill disposed towards Henry.

After his execution by beheading, Henry agreed that the body could be interred at the Chapel of St. Julien at God’s House Hospital. The head was not put on public display as was the case with the other two executed conspirators. There are no contemporary reports of a burial anywhere else and Edward IV’s benefaction to God’s House in 1462 in memory of his grandfather would tend to reinforce the notion that the body would stay there permanently and not be removed to another resting place, Fotheringhay for example.

In the succeeding centuries very little attention was paid to Richard, Earl of Cambridge. The only thing of note that he attempted in his 30 years was his final act, and this was of little political consequence, and in any case was completely overshadowed by the sensational victory at Agincourt in October of that year. He only claim to any subsequent attention was that he was the grandfather of two kings and in that sense he had the same status as Owen Tudor, who has received only marginally more attention from historians.

In 1863 the chapel of St Julien on Winkle Street was much in need of repair and renovation and the chapel was temporarily closed while this work was undertaken. There seems to have been some awareness that one of more of the conspirators was buried there and some efforts to discover the bodies. Unfortunately, as far as I can discover, no contemporary reports were made and all we know of this comes from writing in the 1890s, almost a generation later. There are three accounts, and with slight variations, are consistent with each other. This may be due to each of them relying on a single source, which may have been verbal, so there may be no way of corroborating this evidence.

Let us first examine what is written.

The Hampshire Independent reported on October 15th 1890 on a meeting of the Hampshire Field Club touring Old Southampton, and reported Mr T W Shore as telling the group:

Mr. Critchlow had made a search for the remains of the Earl of Cambridge (a direct ancestor of the Queen) who was buried here in 1415 after his execution outside the north gate or Bar Gate of the town for conspiracy to murder King Henry V as he was preparing to sail for the war with France. But, though he had dug to a depth of four feet, he had been unsuccessful, except that he had found some bones of a tall man; whether they were the bones of the unfortunate Earl it was impossible to say. 

In his own book, History of Hampshire, published two years later, Mr. Shore wrote:

The earl, who was buried within the chapel of God’s House, was the fifteenth ancestor of our present queen in the Yorkist line. During the work of restoring the chapel about thirty years ago, a skeleton was found in the chancel, with the skull lying near the bones of the legs. These remains were reinterred, and are believed to have been those of the unfortunate earl. 

Another two years later, in 1894, the Reverend James Aston Whitlock published a rather breezy account of Gods House and made the following reference:

As a confirmation of the story and the inscription, a gigantic skeleton was found, lying full length,  under the chancel floor of St. Julian’s. His head  was not in the place where the human head usually  grows, but had been carefully placed between his  knees. Evidently, these were the remains of one  of the conspirators — which, we cannot with certainty affirm — but probably of the Earl of Cambridge.

It seems likely that Shore, a leading and pioneering local historian at the time, was the single source of this information. He was however a scholarly man and a Fellow of the Geographical Society and was probably assiduous in gleaning this intelligence. He does note that the architect who oversaw the work at St Julien’s was non-committal about the skeleton but there is a consistency about it all.

From the 15th century reports we would expect to find a skeleton there. The heads of Cambridge’s co-conspirators were dispatched to York and Newcastle for public display and it is unknown what happened to the bodies. Neither of them were likely to have been found at God’s House. Shore’s conclusion may be the right one. The careful burial of the head with the body would suggest that this was a man of some importance.

This conclusion comes with caveats. The year 1863 was many years before the era of professional and scientific archaeologists. Mr Crutwell was an architect  and in any case many of the techniques now available to archeologists would have been unknown at that date. He may not even have made a written report and simply made his verbal observations to interested parties.

At the moment then we have some evidence but no corroboration, in other words no absolute proof. However, on the basis of what we do know we should be able to make some reasonable assumptions:

1. that Richard, Earl of Cambridge was buried in God’s House Chapel in 1415.

2. that the skeleton discovered in 1863, was most likely that of Richard, Earl of Cambridge.

3. that the skeleton was that of a tall man.

At this point we might be content to leave it at that. There would, on the face of it, be no good reason to disinter the bones (even supposing we knew exactly where to look) to confirm what we already know to be reliable fact.

Except that things may have changed, perhaps sensationally.

In 2012 a successful excavation in a car park in Leicester revealed the skeleton of king Richard III, one of the grandsons of Richard, Earl of Cambridge. The skeleton was subjected to DNA testing and the results compared to those of present day descendants. These DNA tests confirmed that the skeleton was indeed that of Richard III.

But there have been further developments. 

A by-product of this study, published in 2014. revealed something more surprising. The analysts discovered the possibility of a false paternity break in the y chromosome at some point between Edward III and Richard III. In other words Richard III may not have carried the y chromosome of his supposed ancestor Edward III. Since the y chromosome is uniquely passed down through the male line this is one certain way to indicate paternity. Richard, if there were no other male intervention would have carried this chromosome from Edward III. Actually, the evidence is less definitive than one would wish since the comparison was made with the DNA of a Beaufort descendant, raising other potential issues. Nevertheless, it is worth considering whether there might have been another male amongst Richard III’s ancestors.

There have for a long time been doubts about the paternity of Richard, Earl of Cambridge. Edmund of Langley married Isabella of Castille at his father’s request in 1372. The following year she gave birth to a son, Edward, who was to succeed his father as Duke of York. A daughter, Constance was born circa 1374. She later married Thomas, Lord Despenser

Isabella’s third recorded pregnancy came ten years after the birth of Contance. She gave birth to a son, Richard, at Consisborough Castle and he was probably baptized there around 20th July 1385. It should be said that there is no record of either his birth or baptism but since Richard II was staying at York at the time, and acted as his godfather, this date is inferred.  His birth date has been misreported elsewhere. The Victorian historian G R Cockayne gave Richard’s birth as 1375. He does not give reasons for this but he may have assumed that the 1385 date was a mistake, and chose to believe that the second son followed soon after the first. Possibly he inferred from a grant by Richard II of 500 marks a year to Richard of Conisborough that he had reached his majority around that time. Others repeat this date. 

What we do know of Richard of Conisborough’s life should lead us to prefer 1385. It seems less plausible that Richard of Bordeaux, as he was in 1375, and whose grandfather and father were still alive, would have been considered as a godparent at that time. It also strains credulity to believe that he assumed the role of godparent when Richard of Conisbrough was 10 years old. A 1375 date would point to a very late marriage and we might also ask why, when he was in favour, Richard II did not make use of him if he was a grown man in 1395. 1385 is a far better fit with the known facts of the earl’s life. 

Long gaps between the birth of children are not unknown and it is possible that there were other pregnancies that may have ended in miscarriages or infant deaths that were not recorded but suspicions must remain, based entirely on circumstantial evidence, that Richard was not the son of Edmund.

Neither his father, nor his brother provided for him in their lifetimes nor was he mentioned in their wills. That fact alone ought to raise a flag and leave us with the suspicion that whatever the outward claims were for his parentage, both men knew different. That he had anything at all was entirely due to his mother’s effort when she was close to death. Her will of 1392 made King Richard II the heir to all her worldly goods, and in the same document she requested that Richard make provision for her younger son, Richard of Conisborough, by granting him a life annuity of 500 marks. That Richard complied soon after her death in December 1392 suggests that this arrangement had been agreed prior to the drawing up of her will. Presumably Isabella believed (and in 1392 would have no reason not to) that the annuity would be more safely administered by Richard II than by her husband and eldest son. Richard II confirmed this in 1395. It is probable that if Richard II had continued on the throne Richard of Conisborough would have enjoyed a grant of lands and income. However, he was one of the losers from the deposition of Richard II and he was bereft of income.

Isabella was reported to have had an affair with John Holland, Earl of Huntingdon. The source of this is a note left by John Shirley while transcribing Chaucer’s poem, the Complaint of Mars, that the poem was based on the real life contemporary affair between John Holland and Isabella. Shirley seems to have lived a full 90 years and spent some years in the 15th century in the service of Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick who had married Isabel Despenser, a grand daughter of Isabella. It is thought that Shirley may have learned the story from this source. John Holland was the second son of Thomas, Earl of Kent and his wife Joan, the “Fair Maid of Kent” who subsequently married the Black Prince. He was therefore a half brother to Richard II, to whom he remained close. Holland was born in 1352 and cut quite a figure in the court of Richard II and was himself not short of achievement. 

It is quite plausible that the high spirited Isabella should be attracted to him. Whether or not Richard of Conisborough was a product of this liaison we simply do not know. Chaucer’s Complaint of Mars has been dated to 1385 or perhaps a few years later. If so, then the dates do fit the story, true or not.

Isabella certainly acquired a reputation and the chronicler Thomas Walsingham sniffily describes her as “domina carnalis et delicata, mundialis et venerea” - a lady ruled by the pleasures of the flesh and worldly things.

While it is difficult to authenticate any of these stories, taken as a whole, they do help us to form a plausible picture of a wife who was bored with her husband and he in turn disinterested in her. While we have no other evidence for Richard of Conisborough’s parentage we should be prepared to assume that he was not the son of Edmund of York.

With this knowledge the skeleton of Richard, Earl of Cambridge takes on more significance than might ordinarily be the case. If it were possible to examine the bones and subject them to DNA analysis some answers to these intriguing questions could be found. If male DNA matched that of his supposed grandson Richard III that would be as expected. If, however, the DNA confirmed the finding of the previous researchers that there was a paternity break in the chain, then that would cause some considerable revision.

It would mean that the House of York, conventionally presented by historians as separate from the House of Lancaster, was in fact an entirely new dynasty, short lived as it was. It would also mean that the Tudor genetic inheritance was some distance from a Plantagenet male. Henry VII was the son of Margaret Beaufort, the great grand daughter of John of Gaunt, and his wife. His wife, Elizabeth of York was the great great grand daughter of Lionel, Duke of Clarence. In sum the Tudor claim was even more tenuous than we presently believe.

Not that this changes historical fact of the succession to the throne but it does add some interesting colour and would effectively make Henry VI the last Plantagenet king.

Merry Widows

In the middle ages, and indeed stretching well beyond that time, marriage was an economic contract. At the top end of society it was also political and very often the political considerations greatly outweighed all other factors. Needless to add the young couple had no say in the matter and for the most part would have accepted their fate without protest as they were schooled from an early age to this fate. It had even become a practice in the 15th century to betroth and marry children when they were too innocent to have any idea at all of the implications of marriage.

In those uncertain times women were often widowed at an early age and had a second chance at marriage and there is good evidence to show that once they were free from parental and political pressure they chose to marry for love. I want to look at two of those women, both high born, who chose love over other considerations once they had the opportunity. They are Catherine of France and Jacquetta of Luxembourg. They both married sons of Henry IV for their first marriages and both married for love once they became widows. What is more interesting is that the offspring of these second marriages had considerable impact on the destiny of England - indeed, the grandchildren of both women married in 1485 to found the Tudor dynasty.

Henry V was a very clear-headed and focussed man. When he succeeded his father in 1413 he resolved to claim what he believed was his French inheritance and to reinforce this claim he set his sights on marrying the daughter of the king of France. The invasion of 1415 which culminated in the improbable victory at Agincourt on October 25th actually achieved little more than to give the English a toehold in France. It was the campaigns in succeeding years that achieved the reconquest of Normandy and several of the other territories that were once part of the Angevin Empire and, in 1420, the French king, Charles VI, worn down by years of struggle and presiding over a weakened, riven kingdom, signed a treaty with Henry V. His daughter Catherine was to marry Henry and a key clause in the treaty acknowledged Henry as his heir. On the death of Charles, Henry would become king of France as well as king of England. The issue raised by Edward III in 1340 would at last be settled.

Marriage of Henry V and Catherine de Valois

Inconveniently, Charles also had a son, also Charles, who was dispossessed by the treaty. Even more inconveniently, Henry died six weeks before the ageing king Charles VI in 1422, leaving an infant son as his heir who became king of England and, nominally, king of France. Although the French might have been persuaded to accept Henry V in his prime, they had less reason to accept an unknown infant. Charles the Dauphin, later Charles VII, was a full-grown man and by right of birth, if not by treaty, the king of France. The English had a strongly led regency under Henry’s younger brother John, duke of Bedford and the English were able to control northern France for about 15 years before it began to erode and eventually collapse.

Funeral effigy of Catherine of Valois

Catherine de Valois, wife of Henry V and mother of Henry VI, was born 27 October 1401 in Paris. Her mother Isabeau of Bavaria had married Charles in 1387 and bore at least 12 children and Catherine was the youngest daughter. She had two older sisters who survived childhood. One of them, Jeanne, married the duke of Brittany and another,  became a nun. The sons fared less well. Only one, Catherine’s younger brother Charles, survived to become king of France. Several older brother died before the age of 21 and one was poisoned. When she was married to Henry V 4 June 1420 he was 14 years her senior. She gave birth to their one child on 6 December 1421 at Windsor castle. Her husband died of dysentery at Vincennes, a few miles away from Paris where she was staying at the time. She apparently made no attempt to visit him during his last hours which may tell us a lot about their relationship.

Back in England she was the queen dowager, and at first glance in a powerful position. The council were certainly mindful of that and in 1425, the three year old Henry was moved to a separate household to be brought up and educated under the care of ? (Wolfe says she had care of him until he was 7 years old) There is no evidence that Catherine raised any serious objections and it may be that she was not particularly interested in the boy. She herself had been brought up in a dysfunctional household. Her father had a strain of madness that had violent outbreaks at times and her mother was a politically ambitious woman who, despite her large brood, showed little maternal affection for them.

Catherine was rather constrained as a widow. Her remarriage held all sorts of political ramifications for the ruling council and they wanted to retain control of her. She soon fell in love with Edmund Beaufort, earl of Somerset. Like the Lancastrian kings, Beaufort was descended from Joh of Gaunt by his mistress and third wife Katherine Swynford and this liaison was regarded as politically dangerous. When Humphrey, duke of Gloucester learned of the affair and her intention to marry he intervened and the council enacted a law that no-one should marry Catherine without the consent of council. The act of 1428 stated that if the queen dowager was to marry without the king’s consent then her husband would forfeit all lands and possessions. This was sufficient to deter Edmund Beaufort.

Once that liaison had been terminated Catherine turned her attention to Owen Tudor and in the next few years bore him five children. Tudor was a welshman and a knight who had done service in France. He appears to have been appointed master of the queen’s wardrobe while she was living at Windsor castle and this brought the two into contact with one another. The first child, Edmund, was born c 1430. The couple moved to the country far from the prying eyes of court and the facts of the liaison were undiscovered for some years. Owen Tudor was granted the rights of an Englishman by Parliament in 1432, so clearly most at court were ignorant of the liaison or the children. Some say that there was a secret marriage but this is unknown; however the children were later recognised as legitimate issue.

Eventually the couple were discovered. The duke of Gloucester had Owen Tudor committed to Newgate Prison and Catherine was sent to Bermondsey Abbey, pregnant with a fifth child. Her children were put under the care of Catherine de la Pole, the abbess of Barking and a sister of the Earl of Suffolk.  The child, a daughter, died soon after birth and Catherine was seriously ill afterwards and died at the age of 36 on 3 January 1437.

After Catherine’s death Owen was accused of breaking the law by marrying the queen. He was acquitted of this charge, which would suggest that he denied that they had married. On his return to Wales however, he was arrested and sent to Newgate. his possessions were seized, which may suggest that there were those who did not believe his denial. He tried to escape in 1438 but was re-arrested and placed in Windsor Castle.

His fortunes started to change in 1439. He was pardoned by the king and released on bail of £2000, which was cancelled in 1440. 1442

Henry VI, her first son was now 16 years old and in a position to make decisions. He chose to honour his mother with a state funeral and burial in Westminster Abbey. He was surprisingly generous to his half brothers and sister. Owen Tudor was given an annuity of £40 and the two elder sons, Edmund and Jasper, were created earls of Richmond and Pembroke respectively. The third brother Owen became a monk. Further, in 1453, possibly mindful that he had not produced an heir at that time, he declared his half brothers legitimate. Edmund was married to the heiress to the House of Somerset, Margaret Beaufort. Margaret was only about 10 years old at the time of her marriage and it was customary not to begin conjugal relations too early. Edmund Tudor was impatient and soon after her first period made her pregnant. He was subsequently captured by Yorkist forces and died on 1 November 1456 of the plague whilst in prison. After his death Margaret gave birth to Henry Tudor on 28 January 1457. It was a difficult birth for an immature body and we guess that Margaret was damaged from the experience as she was never able to conceive another child. Such are the tenuous threads that make up royal history; that child was to become Henry VII. 

Perhaps Humphrey of Gloucester was right to be worried after all.

The second widow is Jacquetta of Luxembourg, daughter of the Count of St Pol, perhaps not a grand as Catherine of Valois but with a lineage which could be traced back to Charlemagne. She came to attention after John, duke of Bedford, younger brother of Henry V, and regent of France lost his first wife, Anne of Burgundy. The English position in France was weakening at the time and relations with Burgundy were precarious, so the match was proposed by Jacquetta’s uncle, the Bishop of Thérouanne. The couple were married at the bishop’s palace on 29 April 1433. She was 17 years old and contemporary reports describe her as lively and attractive. Bedford however was her senior by 27 years. He was also in declining health. His struggle to maintain the English position in France after Henry V’s death with sometimes lukewarm support from home had worn the man down. His health eventually failed him and he died on 14 February 1435.

His young widow was well provided for but, while she was not as politically important as Catherine, the king’s council made provision that she not remarry without the kin’s permission when he was granted her dower rights 6 February 1436. 

It is very difficult to assess her first marriage at a distance of almost 600 years but it is notable that the marriage of almost two years produced no issue. Jacquetta accompanied her husband in both England and France and in view of her later fecundity the absence of children with the duke is worth comment.  John did have two illegitimate children, a boy, Richard, who was alive in 1434, and a daughter Mary. She married Peter de Montserrat and died after 1458. He was unable to successfully father children by his first wife, Anne of Burgundy. He married her in 1423 and she died during childbirth (as did the infant) on 14 November 1432. It is quite possible that other unsuccessful pregnancies preceded this, but none were recorded.  Jacquetta was young and strong and without doubt capable of bearing children. Yet there was no pregnancy of record during the more the two years of their marriage, and this is a puzzle. The duke was certainly in poor health at this time but in the previous year (1433) he was still notionally potent. The couple were separated in age by 27 years; he was old enough to be her father. However he was a man past his prime and as it turned out very near to the end of his life. He had been worn down by his responsibilities in France and almost constant campaigning. He may have been at a stage in his life when he was no longer interested in the sexual act. That, together with his manifold responsibilities may have kept him and Jacquetta from enjoying a proper union. It is also possible that she had no appetite for him and they may have mutually agreed to not sharing the same bed, both content to maintain the outward show of the marriage for the diplomatic purposes behind the union.

During this period of widowhood her attention was drawn to a very good looking and athletic young knight, Sir Richard Woodville. He was probably at the time in his mid-twenties. His father had been a chamberlain to the duke of Bedford and he himself was in the duke’s service. There was a strong romantic attraction on both sides. She however was a duchess; he was of lesser status. Around this time his father inherited the Northamptonshire estates of the Woodvilles and within a few years he would also come into this inheritance. He was not badly off, but there was a large gap between their respective social status.

Nonetheless Jacquetta was determined to have her man and they married secretly, certainly before 23 March 1437 when Parliament fined the couple £1000. They paid up. Her family and authorities in England were annoyed but concluded that there was not much that could be done, which seems to hint that Jacquetta was already pregnant at the time. The baby she was carrying was born that year and may have been a boy, named Richard. He must have died in infancy because the first child to survive to adulthood, Elizabeth, was the beautiful woman who would propel the family to enduring fame, or notoriety, depending on your viewpoint. In 1464 in circumstances which would have seemed improbable to a writer of fiction, she married Edward IV, king of England.

From the successful birth of Elizabeth, Sir Richard and Jacquetta produced a large and healthy family over the next twenty years. Sir Richard in the meantime made progress in his career being appointed to various important positions. He was created a baron by Henry VI in 1448 and the family’s economic circumstances improved. Around 1440 they were able to purchase the Grafton Manor from the Duke of Suffolk.

Queen Elizabeth, wife of Edward IV

The marriage of Edward IV and Elizabeth Grey (nee Woodville) in 1464 astonished contemporaries and even today we find it equally astonishing. Elizabeth nevertheless had many qualities that fitted her for the role of queen and an objective assessment would be that she acquitted herself well. She did however have a large number of kinfolk to provide for and this caused resentment against the “Woodvilles” which was eventually to prove their undoing. Elizabeth had two sons from her first marriage, five brothers and an equal number of sisters. All were given status and the girls were matched with plum marriages. The men meanwhile, as they grew up and included members of the wider Woodville kinship formed a sizeable faction at court. The Tudors, if a comparison can be made between the two families, came to three in number, father and two sons, and were never a threat to the establishment. 

Edmund Tudor, earl of Richmond

Two high born women made a love match after they were widowed from their first arranged marriages. Both were wealthy enough to make that choice. Neither saw any destiny in this. They simply felt entitled to some happiness and were content to take a chance on love. For Jacquetta this worked out well. She was a strong and wealthy woman and bore a lot of children, all of whom turned out to be intelligent and talented. She faced tragedy late in life when her husband and one of her sons were executed by the earl of Warwick in 1469 but she was able to see her daughter crowned queen of England and her other daughters make highly placed marriages. Her sons achieved positions of some eminence. Catherine had a neglected childhood and may not have been a good mother. She did not appear to have much contact with her first born son and attended neither of his coronations, either in England or France. How she fared with her Tudor children we do not know. She seems to have found love and happiness with Owen Tudor and deliberately opted out of the political mainstream. She had no wish to model herself on her politically active mother. 

Henry Tudor

In the 1430s two knights of middling rank each married a high born widow. A grandson of one and a granddaughter of another became king and queen of England in 1485. Who could have predicted that?

Elizabeth of York