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.
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