Extended Family: William Longespee, Earl of Salisbury

Being an illegitimate child in Medieval times wasn't always a social stigma.  Depending on how far up the social chain the parents were, biological children could benefit almost as much as children born within wedlock.  William Longespee, c 1176-1226, the biological son of Henry II and half-brother of Richard I and John, is an example.

William was born c 1176 and speculation existed for centuries about who his mother might be.  The most likely candidate was Rosamund Clifford until a charter from William to "Countess Ida, my mother" was located.  This pinpoints William's mother was Ida de Tosny, wife of Roger Bigod, Earl of Norfolk.  Henry II acknowledged his son, providing him with a manor at Appleby in Lincolnshire.  Richard I was also generous to his younger half-brother, arranging his marriage to an heiress, Ela, Countess of Salisbury in her own right.  William was now an Earl, a wealthy man, and a specimen straight out of Plantagenet central casting.  The surname Longespee referred not only to the length and size of his sword, Latin longa spathe, but also to William's own great height and strength, needed to wield such a weapon.  Tall, temperamental and good-looking, with money to burn and a penchant for tournaments and military command, William fit well with the rest of the family.

His family loyalty would be tested during the reign of his half-brother John, 1199-1216.  During John's reign, William held a number of key positions, Sheriff of Wiltshire, Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, Lord Warden of the Welsh Marches, and Viceroy of Ireland.  John trusted William, who frequently had his back during John's conflicts with his barons.  In 1213, Salisbury led an invasion fleet to Flanders, and in 1214, was the English commander at Bouvines, serving under the overall command of a Plantagenet grandson, Otto IV of Germany.  The battle was a disaster, costing the family much of its land in France.  Meanwhile, there were troubles back home and William was needed.  John's barons had cornered him into signing the Magna Carta.  Along with William Marshal, Salisbury was busy in besieging the castles of rebellious barons who remained in the field. 

However, even brotherly loyalty only went so far.  When John reneged on his promises in Magna Carta and Phillip II sent his son, the future Louis VIII, at the head of an invasion fleet to England, William of Salisbury deserted to Louis' side.  Family loyalty won out after John's death, when both Marshal and Salisbury returned to the allegiance of young Henry III and drove the French out of England.  Henry III also showered his uncle with several important posts.  William Longespee lived until 1226, when he died and was buried in Salisbury Cathedral in Wiltshire.  Rumors spread at the time that he'd been poisoned.  When his tomb was opened in 1791, a dead rat (eeewww!) was found inside the skull, that had traces of arsenic.  I'm not even speculating how that happened, or how 18th century forensic was able to detect arsenic. 

Favorite: Piers Gaveston and Edward II

Almost as intriguing as how he died are questions surrounding the friendship of Edward II and his favorite, Piers Gaveston.  Were they lovers or just friends, and why did Edward rely so heavily on this man who began life as a squire?  Despite their power and wealth, Kings were human beings who needed love, friendship or trustworthy relationships as much as anyone.  Surrounded by greedy and dangerous relatives and nobles, and yes-men, with no one whom they could treat as an equal, some Kings fell into the trap of lavishing too much attention on someone whom they perceived to be a trusted friend and confidante.  Often, that person could be just as greedy and arrogant as the courtiers around them but some Kings failed to see these faults.

All of the above combined in the relationship between Edward II and Piers Gaveston, c 1284-1312.  While Edward's nobles sneered at Piers' low birth, his father was in fact a knight from Gascony, which is how young Piers became a squire, first in the household of Edward I and later assigned to his son and heir, Prince Edward of Caernarfon, the future Edward II.  The two young men, who were the same age, hit it off as friends and Prince Edward began to lavish gifts on his friend.  As Piers mixed in the circle of younger men around Prince Edward, he became more enmeshed in Prince Edward's conflicts with his own father, the King.  In February, 1307, Edward I banished Gaveston from Court.  The exile was short lived, as Edward I died soon after and his son, now Edward II, recalled Gaveston, made him Earl of Cornwall, a title reserved in later years for royal offspring, and married him to a wealthy heiress, Margaret de Clare.  Margaret was the daughter of Edward's sister Joan, and thus a member of the extended royal family.  The nobles, including members of the Plantagenet family, were quick to sense the significance of this title and marriage and to resent it, but Edward paid no heed to the danger signs. 

When Edward left the realm in 1308 to marry Isabella of France, he appointed Gaveston Protector of the Realm or regent.  This flew in the face of angry members of the royal family and high nobility.  The nobles and parliament demanded the exile of Gaveston and had the tacit support of Isabella's father, Phillip IV of France.  Though no wrongdoing had been proved against Gaveston, Edward had no choice but to strip Gaveston of the Earldom of Cornwall and send him into exile.  He rewarded Gaveston soon after by making him Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.  Edward made the situation worse by continuing to lavish money and property on Gaveston in compensation for the lost Earldom.   As with the Regency, there was no evidence that Gaveston misused his position for self-enrichment and he was efficient in his duties, but it wasn't enough to keep the barons at bay for long.  Nevertheless, Edward allowed Gaveston to return in 1309 and reinstated him as Earl of Cornwall.

The barons and parliament seethed.  Gaveston, believing he had the King's mandate, began to mock the other lords.  They soon found out that he had his own pet names for them, which the King allowed him to use with impunity.  Lincoln was "burst-belly", probably alluding to weight trouble.  Lancaster was "the Fiddler", and on it went.  Gaveston also began to demand money, favors and lands for his family and friends, which Edward gladly gave.  In 1310, these offended noblemen and others refused to attend parliament as long as Gaveston was present.  Edward dismissed him and the barons showed up with a list of demands to lay before the King, including repudiation of Piers Gaveston.  This group of earls and barons became known as the Lords Ordainers and they had the support of both people who were hostile to the King, as well as members of the royal family and supporters of Edward.  Edward was forced to dismiss Gaveston once again in November, 1311.

Distraction as a political tactic is as old as the hills and in 1311, Edward II decided that a campaign in Scotland would keep the barons busy and off his case.  This campaign, which ultimately ended up in the Scots victory at Bannockburn in 1314 was a disaster from the beginning and Edward's clout sank even lower.  And Gaveston kept returning like a bad penny.  In January, 1312, he was back in England, any accusations against him declared invalid, restored to his lands and titles, and began fortifying Scarborough Castle.  Gaveston was gearing for war.  So were the barons.  In May, 1312, a group of barons including the Earls of Warwick and Pembroke besieged Scarborough Castle.  Gaveston surrendered and was placed in the custody of Pembroke.  Pembroke took Gaveston to Deddington in Oxfordshire, supposedly on his way to present Gaveston to the King for judgment. 

At Deddington, Pembroke left for a short visit to his wife.  Warwick showed up and captured Gaveston.  He took Gaveston to Warwick Castle, intending to place him on trial for treason.  Pembroke protested the seizure of his captive, but to no avail.  Gaveston was placed on trial before a board of barons including Warwick, Hereford, and Arundel, among others, and condemned to death.  On June 19, 1312, he was taken towards Kenilworth as though to be turned over to the Earl of Lancaster.  Once on Blacklow Hill, which may have been on either Warwick's land or Lancaster's, depending on the source, two Welshmen ran Gaveston through with swords and beheaded the body.  The body remained on the spot until some Dominican friars attempted to present it to Warwick, who refused to take it.  The body was taken to Oxford, but since Gaveston had died excommunicate, he could not be buried in 1315, when Edward II secured a dispensation for the burial.  He also provided generously for Margaret Gaveston, who was, after all, his niece.

Margaret later remarried the Earl of Gloucester.  Her and Gaveston's daughter, Joan, died before Edward could arrange a suitable match for her.  A monument was erected on Blacklow Hill in 1823 by a local, antiquarian squire.  Edward was full of anger and vengeance against his barons but had to patch things up with them as the situation in Scotland deteriorated and his own hold on his throne began to falter.  Questions abound about how close he and Piers Gaveston really were.  They both had wives and fathered children both in and out of wedlock.  However, the innuendo began during both men's lifetime and hasn't let up ever since.  There remains no definitive proof either way.  However, whether or not they were lovers, the main complaint of the barons was Gaveston's access to power and wealth they believed was their right.  Political and personal smear tactics, too, are as old as the hills.   

Dynasty: the Lusignans of Jerusalem and Cyprus

If ever there was a family that equaled the Plantagenets in ambition, temper, drama and descent from supernatural beings, it was the Lusignans of Poitou.  One Lusignan, Guy of Lusignan, would rival Richard the Lionheart for the title of King of Jerusalem.  Guy would win, sort of.  Another Lusignan, Hugh, would marry the widow of Richard's brother John, Isabella of Angouleme, and his intrigue would start a war between his stepson Henry III and Henry's barons.  In the process the Lusignans were Kings of Jerusalem, Cyprus and Armenian Cilicia, laid claim to the Crusader states of Galilee, Antioch, Tyre, Tripoli (in Syria), Jaffa and Ascalon, Beirut and Sidon.  They would also hold land in Armenia, Spain, Portugal and France.  And, they would claim the English earldom of Pembroke and Baron Hastings. 

The family took their name from the Chateau de Lusignan, in Poitiers, which had supposedly been built by a water-sprite named Melusine, who also mated with an early Lusignan forebear and transmitted her turbulent personality to her off-spring.  In fact, the Lusignans achieved most of their immense holdings and influence through luck, bravery, and fortuitous marriages with ranking heiresses.  The early Lusignans were Counts of Le Marche and Eu.  They were rivals of the Counts of Angouleme and the Plantagenets, as Counts of Poitou and Dukes of Aquitaine.  Richard expelled Amalric de Lusignan from his holdings in Poitou, leaving Amalric no choice but to head to the Holy Land, where enterprising knights could win points in the afterlife and carve out their own crusader states.  Amalric would marry the daughter of Baldwin of Iberlin and eventually become a counselor (and maybe lover) to Agnes of Courtenay, mother and regent of the Leper King, Baldwin IV.  Almaric's brother, Guy, would marry Baldwin's sister Sybilla, laying claim to the Kingdom of Jerusalem itself.  Guy's intrigue and belligerent behavior would eventually destabilize his brother-in-law's kingdom.  After the death of Baldwin IV and Baldwin V, Guy claimed the crown of Jerusalem though he and Sybilla were estranged at that point and she would die soon after.  Needing to win new allies for his claim to Jerusalem, Guy allied with Richard the Lionheart in 1191, as he was busy taking Cyprus apart in revenge for the local emperor's treatment of Richard's sister Joanna and fiancée Berengaria. 

Richard needed cash rather than land at that moment and sold Cyprus to the Templars.  They pulled off a major real estate flip by selling Cyprus to Guy.   Guy died in 1194, leaving his claims to Cyprus and Jerusalem to his brother Aimery.  Henry V, Holy Roman Emperor, crown Aimery King of Cyprus.  He married Isabella, another heiress to the Kingdom of Jerusalem and proclaimed himself King in right of his wife.  Meanwhile, back in France, Hugh X was fortunate enough to marry the widow of John, Isabella of Angouleme and claim her inheritance, becoming Count of Angouleme through right of his wife.  He persuaded his stepson Henry III to marry his half-brother William to one of the heiresses of William Marshal, making the Lusignans Earls of Pembroke.  The intrigues of Hugh and William would cause war between Henry III and Phillip Augustus of France, stripping the Plantagenets of over half their ancestral holdings in France. 

The Lusignans in Cyprus would use the same strategies to claim lands in Armenia, and later Spain and Portugal.  They would hold onto Cyprus until 1472, their dynasty coming to a direct end only a decade before that of their old rivals from Poitou, the Plantagenets.  Several families would claim descent from the Lusignans, most notably the Dukes of La Rouchefoucauld, who survived the French Revolution and still exist today.   Side-note, the La Rouchefoucaulds and the Plantagenets are sometimes claimed to be among the 13 Illuminati families, for what it's worth. 

   

Places: Middleham Castle, North Yorkshire, England

Richard III comes down through history as a miserable and maligned human being with little happiness, love or sympathy.  Underneath the stories, rumors, legends and allegations was a flesh and blood person, and even Plantagenets needed a little humanity once in awhile.  For Richard, probably some of the happiest times of his life would be spent at Middleham Castle, near Wensleydale, North Yorkshire.

Robert Fitzrandolph, an Anglo-Norman baron, acquired the land on which was an earlier Saxon motte-and-bailey structure.  He began building the Castle in 1190.  In 1270, it came into the hands of the Neville family, and became one of their ancestral seats.  Richard "The Kingmaker" Neville, 16th Earl of Warwick, inherited the Castle and some of his children, including future Queen Anne Neville, were born here.  After the death of Cecily Neville's husband, Richard of York, her sons George, Duke of Clarence and Richard, Duke of Gloucester, came into the care of their cousin Warwick.  This was a common practice for high-born young men at time, to be sent to a ranking noble family to learn the practical skills of soldiering and knighthood.  It was also common for young sons who were without a father to be taken into the care of an adult male relative even if their mother was still alive.  Thus, Richard and his future bride Anne would have been raised around each other. 

Later, after Warwick turned against Edward IV, the man he'd helped make King of England, Edward was imprisoned here.  In 1471, Warwick was killed at the Battle of Barnett and Middleham Castle fell to Anne's inheritance.  She and her new husband, Richard of Gloucester, made Middleham their home base while he served as Edward's Governor in the North.  Their only known son, Edward of Middleham, was born here in 1473 or 1476.  When Richard became King in 1483, he left Middleham behind for other castles.  Middleham remained in royal possession, but it wasn't a destination on any progress list.  It was finally sold during the reign of James I and eventually crumbled into ruin.  It's run by English heritage today and rumored to be haunted.  Apparently, Richard's still at home.

Queen: Anne Neville, Queen of England, 1456-1485

Anne was the daughter and wife of ruthless, conniving men, so it's no surprise that any number of novels have been written about her.  Usually, she's as much Richard III's victim as were the Princes in the Tower, done in so that Richard could marry his niece Elizabeth of York.  As with much else that's alleged against Richard III, there's no proof of this tale and much circumstantial evidence to the contrary.

Anne Neville was the daughter of Richard Neville, 16th Earl of Warwick, otherwise known as the Kingmaker for his role in backing Edward IV for the throne of England against Henry VI.  The Nevilles were attracted to power.  Her great-aunt, Cecily Neville would be the mother of two kings, Edward IV and Richard III and live well into the reign of Henry VII.  Anne's sister Isabel was married to the ill-fated George, Duke of Clarence.   Anne herself was born at Warwick Castle in 1456, but spent most of her childhood at another of her father's properties, Middleham Castle.  Also at Middleham, training under Warwick as a knight were the young royal princes, George of Clarence and Richard of Gloucester.  Warwick, and no doubt his daughters, were aware of dots could connect.  Isabel married Clarence in 1470, even after her father had switched allegiance from Edward IV back to the Red Rose, Edward, son of Henry VI.  Anne married Edward in 1470, and became Princess of Wales and prospective Queen of England.

Edward and Anne were married in exile in Angers Cathedral in 1470.  With Warwick's help, Henry IV was restored to the throne in 1470, but quickly deposed again by Edward IV in 1471.  After the Battle of Tewkesbury, Henry VI was incarcerated in the Tower.  He was murdered there while prayer in a chapel on May 4.  Richard of Goucester was said to have killed him but, more likely, delivered orders to that effect to the Constable of the Tower but did not do the deed himself.  Shortly thereafter, Prince Edward was killed and Anne taken prisoner.  She was placed under the ward of her brother-in-law Clarence.  As the wife of Isabel and ward of Anne, Clarence was entitled to their vast inheritance and not about to give it up.  When Richard expressed interest in marrying Anne, Clarence used his authority and forbade it.  Richard finally agreed to give up his claim to most of Anne's property, including the Earldom of Warwick, to take Anne as his wife.  Richard of Gloucester had a heart.

Sometime in 1472, Anne and Richard were married in the Chapel of St. Stephen in the Palace of Westminster.  They returned to Middleham Castle, and Anne gave birth to a son, Edward of Middleham, born either in 1473 or 1476.  They would have been happy to live out their days together but, in 1483, Edward IV died suddenly.  Richard of Gloucester was Protector of the Realm on behalf of his nephew Edward V.  He took custody of Edward V and his brother, Richard of York and put them in the Tower of London.  He then had his late brother's marriage declared invalid and the two boys illegitimate, placing himself on the throne of England.  Anne was now Queen and, on July 6, 1483, she and Richard were crowned at Westminster Abbey.  At the ceremony, her train was born by Margaret Beaufort, the mother of the future Henry VII Tudor. 

A few months later, on September 8, 1483, their son Edward was proclaimed Prince of Wales.  Life was good, or so they thought.  Edward died suddenly in April, 1484, while his parents were on their way to pay him a visit.  Both Richard and Anne were devastated by their son's loss and Anne's health began to decline a few months later.  On March 16, 1485, Anne died at Westminster of tuberculosis.  Richard III was grief-stricken again and wept at his wife's funeral.  Anne was buried in an unmarked grave near the Confessor's Chapel of Westminster Abbey, probably because events intervened before her husband could have a proper monument made for her.  Immediately after her death, rumors circulated that Richard had had Anne killed so that he could marry Elizabeth of York.  Richard had Elizabeth sent away from court and convened a council of lords to dispel the rumors.  Meanwhile, as King, Richard had to seek another wife and soon.  He opened negotiations with the Portuguese for the hand of one of their princesses, Joanna, while arranging to marry Elizabeth of York to the future Manuel I of Portugal.

The marriages never came to fruition.  Henry Tudor invaded England at the head of an army and met Richard in battle at Bosworth Field, where Richard was killed.  Not until 1960 was a monument erected to Queen Anne, a plaque near her grave at Westminster Abbey courtesy of the Richard III Society.

Minstrels versus Troubadours

Most people interchangeably use the words minstrel and troubadour to denote the same thing, a wandering musician who sang or recited poetry, typically on themes of love of heroic deeds.  In fact, they were similar, but two different things.  A troubadour would've had resented being called a minstrel.

Minstrels were wandering musicians, usually solo, but sometimes in pairs or small groups, who wandered from castle to tournament to county fair, playing music for whatever fee they would receive.  They were entertainers hoping for a place to stay and steady wages for a few days, at most.  A minstrel usually came from the lower classes of society.  He would sing songs, recite poetry or stories and play one or more instruments.  The songs were rarely of his own composition, but usually ones he'd heard from others and passed along to his listeners.

A troubadour was a specific and highly specialized form of minstrel, originating in Southern France.  The word itself is Occitan, the language spoken in Aquitaine, and refers to a composer and performer of Medieval Occitan poetry, either on the subject of love or heroic deeds.  These ballads, known as chansons de geste or canso, were the most common stock in trade for troubadours, though there were other forms, such as sirventes and tenso.  Troubadours originally came from noble families.  Duke William X of Aquitaine, grandfather of Eleanor, was himself a troubadour, writing under the alias of Guilhelm de Pietieus.  Other well-born troubadours were the Jean de Nesle father and son, who went by the alias Blondel.  Unlike ministrels, who wandered from place to place hoping for someone to take them in, troubadours composed and performed music for its own sake.  Nobles such as Duke William didn't have to perform for anyone if they didn't wish to.  Others would have traveled from one royal or noble court to another, seeking patronage, rather like scholars or artists.  Minnesingers in Germany were similar.

There are over 400 troubadours known to history.  While the earlier ones were nobles, later troubadours came from other walks of life.  Some were failed priests or students, whose knowledge of music and history would've given them plenty of material for their compositions.  A female troubadour was known as a trobairitz, and almost two dozen female troubadours are known to have gained acceptance among the noble and royal courts.  In later centuries, troubadours and minstrels gave way to other forms of itinerant professional musicians, sometimes performing for wealthy patrons, or whoever wished entertainment and could pay for it. 

Forebearer: Geoffrey Plantagenet, Count of Anjou, 1113-1151

Best known as the father of Henry II and ancestor of the Plantagenets, Geoffrey (1113-1151) was a capable soldier and administrator whose achievements paled beside those of his more colorful wife Empress Matilda, and his royal Plantagenet offspring.

Geoffrey was the son of Fulk V, Count of Anjou, who later became King of Jerusalem, leaving his properties of Anjou, Maine and Tourraine to his son.  Geoffrey was given the nickname or sobriquet of Plantagenet (Latin, planta-genista), from the sprig of yellow broom he wore in his hat as a distinguishing mark.  Heraldry and armorial bearings were in their infancy during this time, so soldiers wearing armor on the battlefield had to tell themselves apart in some way.  Despite his young age, Geoffrey had already distinguished himself as a warrior, enough that King Henry I of England, desperate for heirs to his throne, negotiated a match between Geoffrey and his much older widowed daughter, Matilda.  There was a method to Henry's madness.  Geoffrey's lands bordered Normandy and would make a good buffer zone between the English and French territories on the Continent.  This idea did not go down well with Matilda at all.  Matilda was conscious of her own rank as the daughter of a King and the widow of Holy Roman Emperor Frederick V.  She was 11 years older than her husband, who was knighted by his father-in-law Henry in 1128, when Geoffrey was just 15 years old.

Within weeks of the wedding, Matilda bailed, heading back to her father in England.  Henry finally prevailed on his daughter to return to her husband and make the best of things.  Later, when Matilda and Henry had a falling out of their own, Matilda and Geoffrey reconciled.  She would bear him three children.  The future Henry II, born 1133, Geoffrey, Count of Nantes, and William, Viscount of Dieppe.  William would die unmarried and Geoffrey would later be forced to cede his claims to the family inheritance to his older brother, not figuring into the family story after that point.  Meanwhile, Geoffrey, Sr., in 1135, on his father-in-law's death, promptly invaded Normandy to secure this portion of Matilda's inheritance.  With his help, Matilda could concentrate on consolidating England, something she was unable ultimately to do. 

While Matilda and Stephen battled for control of England, Geoffrey wrested Normandy from the control of its own rebellious barons, who weren't about to acknowledge a woman as head of state unless they were forced to, and kept the French at bay.  He was so efficient at keeping Normandy in check that he was created Duke of Normandy in his own right in 1244.  He also successfully put down three baronial revolts in the Plantagenets' home province of Anjou.  Constant fighting on the Continent kept him from joining Matilda in England.  Matters there had devolved in a stalemate between her and her rival Stephen known as the Anarchy.  It was a period considered so dire at the time that one chronicler claimed Christ and the Saints were all asleep.   In 1153, the Treaty of Wallingford finally settled that Stephen should remain King of England for life, with Henry as his successor.  Stephen conveniently died in 1154 and the barons proclaimed Henry King of England.  His father didn't get to see this day.

In 1151, Geoffrey, Sr., was stricken with fever.  He had just enough time to ride home, collapse on his bed, make a few bequests to charity and die.  He was buried at St. Julien's Cathedral in Le Mans, France.  Geoffrey's funeral monument shows gold lions on a field of blue.  Some sources take this as the first incidents of a lion crest for the Plantagenet family in particular.  Others claim that Henry I may have used a lion as a symbol, and given his son-in-law the right to use it.  The effigy on the tomb may be a later addition.  There's no other evidence that Geoffrey used any distinguishing marks other than the broom plant badge.  Whether from Geoffrey or Henry I, lions became associated with the family and with the monarchs of England, and the lion in various forms has been part of the royal crest ever since. 

Courtier: Alice Chaucer de la Pole, Duchess of Suffolk, 1404-1475

Life during the time of the Wars of the Roses wasn't for sissies.  The women had to be as tough as the men and few met that description better than the matriarch of the de la Pole branch of the Plantagenet family, Alice Chaucer, Duchess of Suffolk. 

Alice, 1404-1475, was the granddaughter of Geoffrey Chaucer of Canterbury Tales fame, through his son Thomas.  The Chaucers were connected.  Geoffrey was a lawyer and bureaucrat active in the service of Edward III, Richard II, and Richard's rival Henry of Bolingbroke, later Henry IV.  The Chaucer family's connections made possible three good marriages for Alice.  When she was 11, she married Sir John Phillip, who died a year later of dysentery while in service in Normandy during the Hundred Years War.  He left his young widow with an estate of extensive property, including Donnington Castle.  Young Alice married next in 1421, Thomas Montacute, 4th Earl of Salisbury, and when he died in 1428 she had yet more property to her credit.  Finally, in 1430, she married William de la Pole, Earl and later Duke of Suffolk.  In 1442, she bore him a son, John. 

William was steward of the household and a leading counselor of Henry VI and Alice served as a lady in waiting to Margaret of Anjou.  For a time, she was a loyal Lancastrian.  However, in 1450, William was impeached by the House of Commons.  Henry exiled the Duke to save him from death, but his ship was tracked down.  He was captured, returned to England and executed.  Alice now had to scramble to protect her son's inheritance.  She loaned the king several thousand marks to spare her son's lands from attainder but in 1451, found herself facing a state trial on suspicion of support the opposing Yorkists.  She was acquitted, but later threw in her lot with Edward IV against Henry and her former mistress, Margaret of Anjou.  After Henry's death and when Margaret was captured, Alice was deemed trustworthy enough to serve as Margaret's guardian and effectively jailer.  She was also appointed castellan of Wallingford Castle in her own right.

Alice made several pious donations to religious institutions and charitable causes throughout her life.  She held property in over 22 counties and was patroness of the poet John Lydgate.  She was no doubt a devoted mother.  But she could also be ruthless.  She was not above taking her erstwhile friend Margaret Paston to court to seize several Paston manors on the basis of fraudulent deeds.  The two women had been friends, but were now bitter enemies.  Alice could be as avaricious and cunning as any man over her time.  She was also the last woman to be named a Lady Companion of the Order of the Garter.  Alice died in 1475 wealthy enough to have an elaborate transi or double-decker tomb in her honor at St Mary's Church, Ewelme.  The top level of the tomb showed her in the prime of life as a noble woman, but below was a rotting corpse, symbolizing what she became after her death. 

Meanwhile her son, John, would marry Elizabeth, daughter of Richard of York and Cecilly Neville.  Elizabeth was the sister of Edward IV and Richard III.  Thus, after the deaths of these final Plantagenet kings, the de la Pole family would carry an important claim to the Yorkist side of the Plantagenet dynasty and give the Tudors no end of grief. 

What Is: A Reeve

 Among the group of travelers in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales is someone known only as the Reeve.  Unlike some of the other pilgrims, his name is never given.  All we know about him is that he's an older, irascible gentleman, a former carpenter, who's not at all amused by the Miller's tale featuring a stupid, old carpenter.

So, what's a reeve?

English kings and nobles in Saxon, Norman and Plantagenet times had a number of officials to assist them in managing their realms and extensive estates.  In Anglo-Saxon times, a reeve would have been a high official, second only to the earl or lord of a manor, and possibly of a good family himself.  He was a combination administrator, steward and magistrate, with wide-ranging powers.  Depending on what he was appointed to oversee, there were high-reeves, town reeves, port reeves, and shire-reeves, the forerunners of today's sheriffs.  However, by the time the Plantagenets took over in England, a reeve had slid further down the social scale.  Rather than being an official with wide-ranging powers, second only to a titled nobleman or lord of a manor, he was now an assistant to the bailiff or steward who had taken over that position.  Often, a reeve was merely an overseer of a large estate.  Generally, he was a peasant who rented his land from the lord, and supervised the other peasants.  Sometimes, he was elected to his post by the peasants on the manor, or appointed by the lord or bailiff.  Because manorial courts did more than just settle disputes and punish offenders, a reeve was often the executive arm of the court, enforcing decisions about which fields were planted when, who owed what, and who was entitled to compensation for something else.

Just knowing these few details helps us to know a bit more about Chaucer's reeve, and others in a similar social position.  Today the word peasant conjures up images of a downtrodden country yokel, filthy, ignorant and poverty-ridden.  However, some peasants could be quite prosperous, working several different portions of land on their lord's estate and able to make a comfortable living for themselves and their families.  Some were skilled tradesman, such as a carpenter, and supplemented their living and social standing through this trade.  A prosperous and hard-working farmer, wise in the ways of the world, who was also a talented carpenter, would have been trusted by his fellow villagers and his lord.  He would've been an obvious choice for a reeve, both because of his keen administrative and business sense, but also because he would have had a few people skills.  He would've been the type to not suffer fools gladly, and not be taken as a fool simply because of his lowly standing in life.  And, for many a common person, the only bucket-list trip they would ever have in their life would be a pilgrimage to a local shrine, or maybe even a shrine on the Continent if they were very thrifty and quite lucky.  They wouldn't want their vacation spoiled by a snarky fellow traveler trying to make a point.

Prince in the Tower: Richard of Shrewsbury, Duke of York

Edward V, the uncrowned boy king who may have perished in the Tower in 1483, retains his place in the line of English kings with his own regnal number.  The Princes in the Tower have been the subject of plays, portraits and novels for more than five centuries.  Speculation remains rife today about who killed them or ordered them killed, why, and whether the remains discovered during the reign of Charles II are actually theirs.  It's easy for children, even royal children, to lose their voice and their identity when they are in the power of unscrupulous adults.  The younger brother covered under the label Princes in the Tower is thus often passed over, Richard of Shrewsbury, Duke of York.

Richard, 1473-1483, hadn't quite reached his 10th birthday when he was last seen playing the Tower gardens along with his older brother Edward.  Richard was the youngest surviving son of Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville.  As his name suggests, he was born in Shrewsbury.  In those days, royal sons didn't have to wait until marriage to receive their dukedoms.  Richard was made Duke of York and a Knight of the Garter in 1474, when barely a year old.  From him comes the tradition of a King's second son bearing the title Duke of York, which continues to Prince Andrew today.  In 1476, Richard received a secondary title of Earl of Nottingham, but there was more to come.  In St. Stephen's Chapel, Westminster, when he was four years old, Richard was married to the grandest heiress in the kingdom.  Five-year-old Anne de Mowbray, Countess of Warren and Duchess of Norfolk in her own right died in 1481, long before she and Richard could ever hope to have a life together as man and wife.  Edward IV was anxious that the vast de Mowbray inheritance, with the two titles, should remain Richard's and therefore permanently within the royal family.  In 1483, shortly before Edward IV's death, Parliament passed an act permanently granting the titles of Duke of Norfolk and Earl of Warrenne to Richard and his heirs.  Edward IV paid the debts of one heir to the tile in exchange for a voluntary relinquishment of his rights to Anne's great inheritance. 

Then, in 1483, Richard of York's world turned upside down.  Edward IV died suddenly and his son, Edward V was named king, with their uncle Richard of Gloucester as Lord Protector of the Realm.  Fearing that Richard of Gloucester, the future Richard III, would do something dreadful to her boys, Elizabeth Woodville sought refuge in Westminster Abbey.  Richard persuaded her that he would preserve her sons' rights and she relinquished their custody to him.  In reality, she really had no other option.  Richard lodged the two youngsters in the Tower.  This wasn't on its face anything sinister.  The Tower was also a royal residence and was one of the most secure fortresses in England.  Further, lodging at the Tower was often a prelude to coronation.  However, Richard of Gloucester contended that the late Edward IV hadn't been legitimately married to Elizabeth Woodville, as he'd been engaged to another lady previously, making their marriage null and void.  Young Edward and Richard were declared illegitimate and Richard of Gloucester assumed the throne as the (in)famous Richard III.

Then, in 1483, the boys simply disappeared.  What happened will forever by one of the most debated cold cases in English history.  In 1674, workmen digging under a stairway in the Tower complex found what they believed to be the bones of two young children.  Convinced that these were the remains of Edward V and Richard, Duke of York, Charles II had the bones reburied in Westminster Abbey with appropriate royal ceremony.  Were these human bones and were they related to Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville.  No one will know for sure unless the remains are able to be analyzed by modern science, which is highly unlikely.  Recently, members of the same effort to locate Richard III's remains have sought to reopen the case regarding what happened to these two little Plantagenets.  Whether they will find out the truth remains to be seen. 

Places: the Painted Chamber of Westminster

The original Palace of Westminster, of which only the Great Hall remains today, had a number of beautiful rooms to serve as backdrops for the power and majesty of the Plantagenet dynasty.  One of these was the Painted Chamber built by Henry III. 

Henry ordered the chamber laid out parallel to St. Stephen's Chapel.  The King wanted a space that he could use privately, and one in which he could receive guests as needed.  It was an oblong room, 82x28 feet.  On one end of the chamber was a large bed of estate, a sumptuous bed covered by an ornate canopy sometimes called a baldachin.  Such beds weren't usually intended to be slept in, but like thrones in throne rooms were meant to symbolize the power of the King.  An 18th century picture of the room as it once was shows its glorious color.  Large wooden murals lined the walls, much as tapestries would later be used.  The ceiling was also made of painted wooden planks. 

Many historic events took place in this beautiful room.  Edward I convened several parliaments in the chamber.  Even after both Houses had their own chambers, the painted chamber continued to be used for State Openings or joint sessions.  Witnesses for Charles I's trial in 1649 were questioned in this room, rather than in the main Westminster Hall where the trial itself was being held.  Here, the Regicides met to sign his death warrant.  Years later, Charles II was lay in state in this room after his death and before his burial in Westminster Abbey.  William Pitt Elder and Younger also lay in state in this room.  Over time, the murals and ceiling decorations were painted or plastered over and the room lost some of its former glory.  It was in use as a court of claims when, in 1834, the remains of the old palace were swept with fire.

The walls survived but most of the wood, including portions of the mural and ceiling decorations, were carried away as souvenirs.  Only a few pieces survive today in the British Museum.  The room itself was refurbished and used temporarily by the House of Lords, before the structure was finally demolished in 1851.  The only hint at what this gorgeous chamber once looked like is a watercolor by William Capon dated 1799.

The Mad Parliament of 1258

King John wasn't the only Plantagenet monarch who had trouble keeping his word or pushing his angry barons too far.  Henry III had his own struggles with the barons.  This Parliament is also known as the Oxford Parliament or the Mad Parliament.  That is, in the sense of being very, very annoyed.  While some source suggest that the original meaning was a mistranslation of a Latin phrase labeling it the Insane Parliament, the men who gathered in Oxford would probably disagree.  The barons had had enough of Henry and they were ready to go to war if things didn't change.  They were sane and mad at the same time.

The problem was money.  Frederick II, Holy Roman Emperor, died in 1250 and Henry III wanted the Imperial Crown for his son, the future Edward I.  Henry knew that the various Electors would need healthy bribes and, once elected, Edward would spend a great deal of blood and treasure fighting to get and keep the Imperial title.  Henry had agreed with Pope Innocent IV to share the expense of putting the Crown of Charlemagne on Edward's head.  But he had reckoned without his barons.  Like most kings, Henry thought that if he needed money, he would summon a parliament and they would shell out in the form of new and more onerous taxes.  Then Pope Innocent died and Pope Alexander IV occupied the Chair of St. Peter.  Vexed that the selection of the next Holy Roman Emperor hadn't been settled, he upped the ante on Henry by threatening to excommunicate him and Edward if they didn't come up with their share of the money.  Henry called a parliament, but the barons were in no mood to finance a foreign war.

The barons, led by Simon de Montfort and his brother Peter, met at Oxford in 1258, not under Henry's thumb at Westminster.  And, they drew up a list of demands later known as the Provisions of Oxford.  Key among them was the fact that the King couldn't rule without the consent of the barons and parliament, but would be required to have a council to approve any measures the King decided on.  This was the beginnings of the Privy Council, and it was also the first instance of Parliament flexing its muscle to a king and getting their way.  Henry agreed the provisions, but the barons still wouldn't release the cash.  Richard of Cornwall, brother of Henry, eventually used his own personal fortune for the bribes to the Electors to become King of Germany.  This was the stepping stone to the Holy Roman Empire but Richard decided he'd gone far enough and never made any attempt to claim imperial glory.   The Pope also let the matter drop for the time being.  Henry called on the King of France, of all people, to mediate the dispute between him and his barons.  Louis IX ruled predictably in Henry's favor.  The barons' temperature went up even more.

The barons began collecting their levies and the King and Prince Edward began rallying their forces.  After an initial success at Northampton, the King lost the Battle of Lewes.  He, Edward, and Henry's brother, Richard of Cornwall, the newly-minted King of Germany, were captured.  Eventually, Prince Edward and Richard escaped and rallied an army.  Montfort was killed at the Battle of Evesham in 1265.  However, the barons weren't about to settle down so quickly.  Henry had to agree to abide by the curbs on royal power presented by the Provisions of Oxford and a replacement document, the Provisions of Westminster of 1259, in order to avert further fighting.  These Provisions, along with the Magna Carta, are some of the foundations of English government and, indirectly with their curbs on central power, of our own.

Psalters, Books of Hours, Missals and Breviaries

According to popular shows like Game of Thrones, and even a few documentaries, like in the Middle Ages was drab and colorless, with only the occasional flash of gold and jewels to liven things up.  Not quite.  The seriously wealthy, nobility and royalty had the means and the motive to beautify their surroundings, commemorate important events, and save their immortal souls at the same time.  One of the most treasured possessions of the time was books.  Prior to the printing press in the mid-15th century, books had to be produced by hand, using costly materials, usually vellum pages bound with leather.  Thus, books were scarce and affordable to the very wealthy.

The most prized books in any library were sacred books, not only portions of the Bible, but the writings of early Church fathers and books for personal devotion.  Foremost among these, both in purpose and in the beauty of its calligraphy and illuminated art miniatures was the Book of Hours.  In the Medieval world, almost every day was sacred to some saint or other and every hour had its devotional requirements, prayer, scriptural readings, and the like.  Books of hours helped keep track of these things.  In addition to basic prayers and portions of scripture, a Book of Hours contained a calendar of feast days and holy days of the Church, excerpts from the gospels, veneration of the Virgin Mary, psalms, a litany of saints, prayers for the dead, the stations of the cross, and other prayers that a devout person might find needful.  Many times, these books were given as wedding gifts, and contained pictures of the family commissioning the book, kneeling before the Virgin or saints in an attitude of perpetual prayer.  Several Books of Hours, some as large as a family Bible, and some almost pocket-sized, still survive in museums today.

Another handy book, just as expensive, richly bound and illuminated, was a psalter.  This would contain most or the entire cannon of Psalms along with prayers, portions of the gospels or devotional readings.  Some psalters in later centuries also contained musical notation, so that the Psalms could be song, to musical accompaniment if desired.  Like books of hours, these psalters were usually hand-painted on vellum leaves, bound with tooled leather, sometimes set with gems or precious medals, and were the possessions of the very wealthy.  They, too, could be used to commemorate the joining of two families or dynasties in marriage, as was the Alphonso psalter, or otherwise given as presents.

A sign of the highest rank and prestige was to be able to have a priest in one's own household, where he could hold mass daily and lead other devotions for the family.  Priests used missals known as altar missals which carried detailed instructions for various masses.  For the lay people who wished to follow along, smaller missals known as hand missals or missalettes were produced, so that people who could read would know where and what to respond or otherwise participate during the services.  Many people used these missals in their private devotions, as well.

Likewise, a breviary, a book containing prayers and schedules of prayers, known as the Office, portions of psalms and the gospels and other devotional material.  Certain orders of monks and nuns had their own breviaries, with emphasis placed on those saints they most venerated or on their special devotions, such as to preaching, care of the poor or sick, etc.  The breviary was the basic prayer book of priests, as well as lay people.  However, they, too, were expensive and even priests were lucky to own one and most often had to rely on rote memory for some of the prayers and sacraments.

King Who Might Have Been: Alphonso of Chester, 1273-1284

English history is full of Kings and Queens who might have been, Edward the Black Prince, Edward V and Richard of York, Arabella Stuart and Charlotte of Wales.  Then there was Alphonso of Chester.  King Alphonso of England has a nice ring to it, but it never happened.

Alphonso (1273-1284), was one of the many children of Edward I and Eleanor of Castile who never lived to grow up.  He was born in Gascony, which was claimed by both the Plantagenets and Eleanor's Castilian family.  He was, thus, named for a maternal grandfather and his uncle, King Alfonso X of Castile.  Uncle Alfonso even traveled to Gascony, despite the distance and the tension, to stand godfather for his nephew's baptism.  Alfonso was made Earl of Chester and given a household of his own to oversee his training to become the future King of England.  At the age of ten, he was betrothed to Margaret of Holland.  In preparation, a beautifully hand-illuminated psalter was created to celebrate the marriage. 

Then, tragedy struck.  A little brother Edward had just been born and Alphonso took sick and died at Windsor of unexplained causes.  His parents were heartbroken and buried their Alphonso in the Edward the Confessor chapel at Westminster Abbey.  It would be Edward who survived to become the next king of England, Edward II, who ranks as one of the worst kings England ever had.  If Alphonso had lived, would he have been a better credit to the Plantagenet dynasty, a warrior and lawgiver like his father?  We will never know now.  As for the Psalter, it was set aside.  Several years later, another team of workers finished it for the wedding of Alphonso and Edward's sister Elizabeth to John of Holland.  The differences in the quality of workmanship of the two groups of illuminators can be discerned in the finished product, which is still on display at the British Library in London.

Treaty: Anglo-Portuguese Alliance of 1373

One of the documents that still survives from Medieval times is a copy of this treaty, agreed to between King Edward III of England and King Ferdinand I and Queen Eleanor of Portugal.  The fact that the Queen Consort of Portugal was included in the treaty is unusual enough.  Queen Philippa of England had died in 1369, meaning that Edward was a widow.  So, we don't know if she would have been included in the wording as a matter of courtesy.

England had a serious rival in France and they were in the midst of the Hundred Years War when this treaty was sign.  England had need for an international partner who had ports for trade and defense.  And Portugal was ever fearful of the Castilians, the Aragonese, and God forbid, the Moors of Africa.  The treaty did not settle any disputes between the Kingdoms, but was a promise of mutual aid and defense.  An attack on Portugal would be grounds for an attack by England and vice versa.  The Treaty survived the centuries and was reiterated several times, only becoming void between 1580-1640, when the Crown of Portugal was also held by the Kingdom of Spain, another of England's sworn enemies. 

This treaty came in handy for Portugal during the Napoleonic era, when England sent the Duke of Wellington and thousands of British troops, plus the Royal Navy, to defend Portugal against French onslaughts through Spain, then a Bonapartist puppet kingdom under Napoleon's brother, Joseph.  And, Portugal would call on England's aid again in maintaining neutrality during World War II.  Britain protected Portuguese neutrality in return for use of landing rights for aircraft combating Germany U-boats.

The War that Would not End: Hundred Years War, 1337-1453

The Hundred Years War was about the most famous event to happen to a family already bursting with history.  Rebellions, crusades and endemic struggles for land and titles on the Continent were endemic throughout this tumultuous dynasty's time on the throne.  The Hundred Years War (1337-1453) sounds a little more poetic than the One Hundred and Sixteen Years War.  This war brought us Henry V and Joan of Arc, the battles of Agincourt, Crecy and Patay.  And, like any good three ring circus, there were several events and stages of events going on at one time.

Historians divide up the Hundred Years War in four phases.  They are: the Edwardian War, 1337-1360; the Caroline War, 1369-1389; the Lancastrian War, phase 1, 1415-1420; and the Hundred Years War, phase II, 1420-1453.  The net result for the Plantagenets, including a lot of blood and treasure wasted, was the loss of any and all of their territorial possession in France save for the Port of Calais and a strip of land immediately around it known as the Pale. 

However, even during the lulls or gaps in this war, there was plenty of action for adventurous young knights looking to gain experience and the spurs to prove it, or for bands of mercenaries who sold their services to the highest bidder and behaved worse than any Unsullied ever thought about.  England and France weren't the only rivals for land in what is now France.  France itself claimed several independent duchies and counties.  Spain and France also contended for territory.  And the smaller entities feuded amongst themselves and sometimes with themselves over the same issues, land and resources.  And, often, because the Plantagenets either had dynastic connections or property holdings in the disputed territory, they were sucked into the conflicts.

Some of these smaller wars were: War of the Breton Succession, 1341-1364; Castilian Civil War, 1366-1369; War of the Two Peters (Aragon), 1356-1375, and War in Portugal, 1383-85.  We'll get to each of these wars in good time. 

Infant Mortality

Royal and noble families of the Medieval era found themselves locked in a dangerous and tragic game of roulette, that of producing an heir.  Young brides felt the pressure and the physical discomforts of being pregnant early and often.  And both parents felt the grief and disappointment at stillbirths, deaths of infants and toddlers, or even of preteens and teenagers on the cusp of life.  Edward I of England and his beloved wife, Eleanor of Castile, were unlucky in this regard even by the standards of their day.

Edward was the son of Henry III and nephew of Richard of Cornwall.  He was tall, a fearless athlete and rider, and later an able military commander and lawgiver, though he wouldn't inherit the throne until 1272.  Eleanor had lion's blood in her veins.  Her grandmother was Eleanor of England, daughter of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine, for whom she was named.  Edward married Eleanor in 1254, when she was about thirteen years old.  Girls of that age were considered marriagable and they would have started married life right away.  And, something unexpected happened.  Edward and Eleanor fell in love.  They would be almost inseparable for most of their lives together.  Eleanor would come to depend on her husband's strength and patience.  Unlike a later Tudor king, he didn't throw her away when childbearing and childrearing didn't come as easily as they both hoped. 

Tragedy struck within months of their wedding.   In 1255, Eleanor gave birth to a stillborn daughter.  Then, another girl, Katherine, 1261-1264, and Joanna, 1265.  John, 1266-1271, was sent to live with his great-uncle, Richard of Cornwall, who had to bear the sad news to both Grandpa Henry III and Prince Edward.  Little Henry was also short-lived, 1268-1274.  He would die in the care of his widowed grandmother Eleanor of Provence.  There was a temporary reprieve with a tiny Eleanor, 1269-1298.  At least she lived to grow up, get married and have kids of her own.  Next was a daughter, born while Edward and Eleanor were on Crusade in Palestine in 1271.  Some sources name her Juliana, though there was no official record of her name.  Next was Joan, 1272-1307.  She, too, would live to have children of her own, and later give her father a few headaches with her choices in men.

Finally, Edward and Eleanor could hope.  Alphonso, named for his great-grandfather on Eleanor's side of the family, born in 1273 and named Earl of Chester.  England almost had a King Alphonso, but he, too, died very young.  Eleanor and Edward kept trying, just in case.  One needed an heir and a spare, or two or more.  Margaret, 1275-1333, was also a healthy child who grew up and gave her father grandchildren.  Berengaria, 1276-1278, did not.  There was a stillborn daughter, 1277.  Mary, 1279-1332, became a Benedictine nun.  It was common practice at the time for a noble family to donate a child or two to the church, along with a generous dowry of land and manor houses.  Another stillborn son in 1280, and Elizabeth, 1282-1316, who also lived to grow up.  Finally, the future Edward II, 1284-1327, who was born just weeks after his elder brother Alphonso had died.

This list doesn't account for any miscarriages Eleanor might have had, which could explain some of the earlier gaps among the children's births.  After Little Edward's birth, Eleanor's health slowly spiraled downhill.  Heart trouble might have been part of the cause.  Whether there were any gynecological issues from all these births will never be known.  Little Edward was 6 when his mother died in her husband's arms in 1290.  With just one small son and five growing daughters to his credit, Edward I needed to marry again.  He wasn't able to make that decision until 1299, when he married Margaret of France years after Eleanor's death and the poignant tributes her husband planned in her honor.  Margaret would give Edward two boys who would live to have children of their own.  Then, finally, a little girl named Eleanor, 1306-1310. 

Royal: Richard of Cornwall, 1209-1272

Being the younger son of a king in Medieval times had its perks.  Titles, land, money, beautiful women, and if one were lucky, maybe a crown courtesy of family connections.  Richard of Cornwall, 1209-1272, the son of John of England and Isabella of Angouleme would experience all of these and more.

It was never meant for Richard to inherit the crown of England.  That would go to his older brother, Henry III.  He had other titles, though, High Sheriff of Berkshire at only 8 years old and, when he was 16, Henry III gave him the rights to the title of Earl of Cornwall and made him High Sheriff of Cornwall.  Cornwall has always been a lucrative title for anyone who holds it.  It forms the bulk of Prince Charles' fortune today.  Richard was just as lucky, becoming one of the wealthiest men in England while still in his teens.  He was able to acquire Tintagel Castle in Wales, and made significant improvements to it, though some attribute the earliest building at Tintagel to Richard of Cornwall and not King Arthur, whoever he might have been.  It helped that Richard married a woman who was an heiress of William Marshal, 1st Earl of Pembroke (yes, that William Marshal), and who was the widow of another wealthy nobleman, the Earl of Gloucester.  Isabel would bring her husband Wallingford Castle, another lucrative property, and Henry would confirm Richard as Earl of Cornwall.  Life was grand.

Richard decided to join the Barons' Crusade, leading the second wave of the army to the Holy Land.  He also bankrolled much of the enterprise from his enormous fortune.  He didn't see much action, but showed skill as a diplomat in arranging prisoner exchanges, and also sponsored the rebuilding of the fortress at Ascalon.  Isabel had died and Richard wanted to marry again, hopefully someone with connections and money.  Henry III's queen, Eleanor of Provence had a beautiful sister Sanchia.  Richard had seen Sanchia on his way to the Holy Land and the two fell in love.  He married Sanchia in Westminster Abbey in 1243.  The Provence girls were well connected.  Older sister Margaret was the wife of Louis IX of France.  Eleanor was married to Henry III, and another sister was married to Charles I of Naples.  Three queens in the family wasn't bad and it did help with matters of state and diplomacy.  Well, not so fast.

Henry III had appointed Richard Count of Poitou, a traditional portion of the Plantagenet inheritance from Eleanor of Aquitaine.  Louis IX begged to differ and appointed his younger brother Alphonse Count of Poitou.  Hugh of Lusignan, the second husband of Richard and Henry's mother Isabel encouraged Richard to take Poitou by force of arms.  Then Lusignan threw his support behind Louis and the resulting military expedition was a disaster.  Side note, the Lusignans had a history of double-dealing and back-biting worthy of another family who claimed descent from a supernatural being, but more on them later.  The Pope offered Richard the Kingdom of Sicily, but Richard saw through this.  "You may as well make me a present of the moon, then tell me to step up to the sky and take it down!" he said.  He was soon offered something more substantial, election as King of Germany. 

This was a tricky proposition.  The King of Germany could also be one of those in line for consideration as King of the Romans and Holy Roman Emperor.  These positions went to the highest bidder, or person willing to lay out the most bribes, regardless of whether they were ethnically German or not.  Richard was able to persuade three of the seven electors, and bribe the fourth, so he got the job.  Then, there was the matter of taking and keeping the throne by force of arms.  Not willing to waste more than a minimal amount of effort, Richard decided to make his presence scarce in Germany, and keep the title.  Sanchia had meanwhile died and it was time to take a new wife, sixteen-year-old Beatrice of Falconberg, who was described as one of the most beautiful women of her time. 

Richard backed Henry III in his struggles with Simon de Montfort, known as the Barons War of 1265.  At the Battle of Lewes, Richard was ignominiously discovered hiding in a windmill and captured.  He was held prisoner for several months until freed in 1265.  He remained in England, and in 1271, had a stroke that impaired his right side.  He was unable to speak and barely able to walk.  He died in Berkhamsted Castle in 1272.  Germany would sort itself out and end up under its first of many Habsburg rulers, Rudolph I.  Richard's son Edmund, by Sanchia, would succeed as Earl of Cornwall.  But Richard had another liaison on the side.  His children by Joan de Valletort were also amply provided for. 

In-Law: Simon de Montfort, 1208-1265

Marrying into the Plantagenet family could be a dangerous business, especially if the interests of the family collided with those of another country or with their own rebellious nobles.  Simon de Montfort, 1205-1265, 6th Earl of Leicester, found that out the hard way. 

Simon's family had royal connections.  Henry II's great-grandmother on his father's side had been born a de Montfort.  Simon was also a descendant of the Norman dynasty through Henry I.  The de Montforts had a habit of marrying wealthy women who could add lands and connections to the family effort.  They owned land in both France and England.  Simon grew up in France.  He achieved some of his earliest military experience in the Albigensian Crusade.  Thus, no matter how much Simon was celebrated in later centuries as being a founder of English parliamentary democracy, in his personal life he was a doctrinaire Christian who did not like heretics or Jews.  Simon wasn't the eldest son.  It wasn't a given that he would inherit his father's Earldom of Leicester.  He agreed to give up his rights to his family's land in France, and to wait to succeed another man who had been given the rights to the earldom by Henry III. 

Then, there was the need for a wife, preferably a wealthy heiress in her own right who could augment his fortunes.  Simon set his eye on Joan, Countess of Flanders but the French royal family disliked the idea of a heiress to a powerful, independent county being married to a man whose family was connected on both sides of the Channel.  Joan married elsewhere.  Simon, meanwhile still seeking his family earldom, had worked his way into the graces of Henry III.  His eye fell on Henry's sister Eleanor.  She had previously been married to William Marshal, Jr.,2nd Earl of Pembroke.  After he died, Eleanor swore a vow of chastity, which she broke by marrying Simon.  Their marriage was private, given that Eleanor was a widow and possibly risking excommunication by marrying despite her vows.  It would take Simon a trip to Rome, no small feat in those days, and years of red tape to relieve Eleanor of this vow and validate their marriage. 

At first, Henry and Simon were getting along.  Henry allowed his sister's marriage, formally vested Simon with the Earldom of Leicester, and supported his claims in Rome.  Simon was godfather of the future Edward I.  Then, family drama got in the way.  Simon loaned money to an uncle by marriage of Henry and Eleanor, naming Henry as surety for the loan without Henry III's express permission.  Henry lost his Plantagenet cool and berated Simon, accusing him of having seduced Eleanor and leading Henry to agree to the marriage under false pretenses.  Simon an Eleanor fled to France to wait out Henry's wrath.  Simon went on the Barons' Crusade of 1239, fulfilling an earlier vow to go on Crusade and doubtless hoping to clear up his marriage with the Church.  He later joined Henry's forces in fighting against Louis IX of France and the two brothers-in-law made up.  Henry's reliance on his personal favorites, and his lack of interest in the grievance of his barons irked Simon, who wanted to go on Crusade again.  Henry persuaded him to take the governorship of Gascony, one of the few Plantagenet possessions left on the Continent.

Things simmered between the two men for a few years.  The Gascon barons complained the Simon, who could be iron-fisted, was oppressive.  A formal hearing cleared him of that charge, but revealed irregularities in the finances.  He returned to England and turned his attentions to Parliament, where he became an outspoken critic of the King, something bound to rile Henry.  As the King became less and less willing to heed his barons' demands, Simon again left England, but returned in 1263 at the request of his fellow barons.  As so often happened, both the King and the barons began mustering an army.  The royal army bottled up the barons in London, but not for long.  In 1264, Simon led the baronial army to battle at Lewes on May 14, 1264, capturing Henry, Prince Edward, and Henry's brother, Richard of Cornwall. 

Henry remained King, but decrees had to be channeled through a council, of which Simon de Montfort was the head and driving force.  In 1265, he called a Parliament, Montfort's Parliament, which included, not only elected representatives from each shire or county, but also from each town or borough.  This was the second parliament in English history at which elected representatives sat, but the first which included townsmen.  It was a good idea, but too far ahead of its time.  Barons loyal to Prince Edward soon rose against Simon's rule, and backed the King.  The brothers-in-law met at the Battle of Evesham on August 4, 1265.  Simon was killed in battle, and his earldom and other English possessions confiscated under attainder.  His body was mutilated, head, arms, hands and other parts not necessary to mention were sent to the farthest reaches of the kingdom.  Henry III order what was left buried under a tree, not deeming a rebel worthy of burial in consecrated ground.

Simon de Montfort in death became something of an unofficial saint.  Pilgrims visited his grave and miracles were reported.  He became known as one of the founders of English representative government.  Several monuments in Leicester bear his name.  A bas-relief plaque with his profile is in the House of Representatives chamber in Washington, D.C. 

Chronicler: Richard of Devizes

In the centuries before professional journalists and historians kept a record of current events, that task often fell to monks.  Monks spent hours in scriptoriums copying portions of the Bible and important sacred and religious texts.  Some also took an interest in life beyond the abbey walls, noting down important events, particularly when they could attach some divine intent to the affairs of the day.

Richard of Devizes, a monk of St. Swithin's house in Winchester was one such chronicler.  Richard was active during the last few years of Henry II's reign and the first three years of Richard I, so late 12th century.  His name, Richard of Devizes, indicates that he may have been from the town of Devizes in Wiltshire, but no other facts are known of his life.  Unlike most chroniclers, who provided a dry recitation of basic events one right after another, Richard of Devizes adopted the point of few of a French Jewish cobbler giving advice to young Jewish Christians visiting London.  This posture was a radical one for the times, as the start of Richard's reign and the windup to the Third Crusade saw the outbreak of bloody reprisals against Jewish communities throughout England.  According to Richard of Devizes, when wealthy Jewish merchants came to Richard's court to pay their respects during or shortly after his coronation, they were roughed up and thrown out of the palace.  Riots erupted against the Jews throughout London and portions of the Jewish quarter were burnt.

Richard of Devizes says:

Now in the year of our Lord's incarnation 1189, Richard, the son of King Henry the Second, by Eleanor, and brother of Henry the Third, was consecrated king of the English by Baldwin, archbishop of Canterbury, at Westminster, in the nones of the third of September. On the very day of the coronation, about that solemn hour in which the Son was immolated to the Father, a sacrifice of the Jews to their father, the Devil, was commenced in the city of London, and so long was the duration of this famous mystery that the holocaust could scarcely be accomplished the ensuing day. The other cities and towns of the kingdom emulated the faith of the Londoners, and with a like devotion dispatched their bloodsuckers with blood to hell. (from Wikipedia).

The Greek word holocausta, which referenced a great sacrifice, or a great burning, entered the English language for the first time, and it did so in reference to persecution of the Jews.  Richard of Devizes viewpoint makes plain his disapproval of how the Jews were being treated, though he doesn't outright defend them.  He gave an account of Richard's preparations for the Crusade and departure for the Holy Land, though he would have gotten his information about the Crusade itself filtered through many different sources.  Richard of Devizes remained behind in London and commented that John, Richard's brother who was serving as de facto regent, was a madman who foamed at the mouth.  Probably not literally, but it's a good word picture nonetheless.

Who Were: the Alexian Brothers

When plague came to a small village or a large city, panic ensued.  The residents often fled, leaving the dead or dying, including even family members, to look after themselves or not.  Or, in other instances, the dead and dying were taken outside the city or town, and left to fend for themselves, or not.  Someone had to comfort the dying and give them the consolations of religion.  And someone had to dig the graves, cart off and bury the dead.  Since these people were risking contagion and death themselves, there were few volunteers, even among monastics and clergy, who often faced high mortality within their own communities because their work brought them in constant contact with the sick.

The Alexians began as the Beghards in 12th century Flanders, part of what is now Belgium.  They were non-monastic laymen who followed a simple way of life without living in religious communities.  Debate exists as to whether the term Beghard meant they were beggars or not.  However, they entered their own during the plague epidemics of the 14th century.  While others ran away from or isolated plague victims and refused to handle the corpses, these men would comfort the abandoned dying, take away the dead bodies and bury them.  Because they could not circulate among others while performing this contagious duty, they took to dwelling in small communities or cells, hence another name for them, Cellites.  Church authorities saw the need to bring this group under control of the Church by creating them a religious order under the Augustinian Rule and dedicated to St. Alexius of Rome, who had performed a similar service during epidemics in ancient times. 

The work of the Alexians was more concentrated in Europe, but they were known in England.  Their habit of murmuring prayers as they went about their work gave them a nickname, Lollards, that would later be applied in a derisive sense to early reformers who followed John Wycliffe's teachings.  The Alexian Brothers still exist today as a religious order, dedicated to charities centered around hospitals, hospices, nursing homes, acute care centers and the like. 

The Moneymusk Reliquary

In June, 1314, Robert Bruce would need all his cunning and military skill to help him overcome the English at Bannockburn, but he also sought divine intervention in various ways.  A precious relic of Scottish history was brought to his tent and remained with him throughout the two days of the battle.  It was known as the Brecbennoch, Gaelic for embossed, peaked thing, and contained a relic of St. Columba.  Columba (521-597) is one of the patron saints of Scotland.  He was an Irish-born monk who missionized the Picts and developed the monastery complex on the Island of Iona.  The Brecbennoch likely contained his cape, robe or other vestments.

Though drawings and descriptions of the original Brecbennoch exist, the relic was thought to have vanished during the Reformation-maybe.  The Moneymusk Reliquary may or may not be it, but is a close approximation, maybe even a replica.  This reliquary is a small wooden box about 112mm/4.5in x 51mm/2in x 89mm/3in, if my Google converter figures are correct.  It's covered in a silver and copper alloy, decorated with animal motifs.  The style places it as being made in Iona in about the 8th century.  A peaked lid tops the casket, hooked to it by a crude hinge and there are rings for carrying strings or cords. 

This type of reliquary, with a peaked roof design, was common in Europe in Medieval times.  These reliquaries, known as chasses after an Old French word for house, could be quite large, overlaid in precious medals and garnished in gems and pearls.  The Moneymusk Reliquary is almost doll-size in comparison, and wouldn't contain more than a scrap of Columba's cloak, if that's what it originally contained.  It came into the possession of the Abbey of Arbroath during the reign of William I.  Arbroath Abbey was to the Scots what Canterbury later became to the English, testifying to the importance of this relic and of Columba.  The Reliquary was kept at the Castle of Foreglen while under possession of the Abbots of Arbroath.  Later it was move to the Priory at Moneymusk, hence the name.  Foreglen and Moneymusk came into the possession of the Forbes family in the 18th century.  One of their descendants turned the Reliquary over to the National Museum of Scotland, where it rests today. 

Battle: Alnwick I, 1174

We think of battles as involving tens of thousands of men, and lasting hours or even days.  Most Medieval battles involved dozens or hundreds of men, and could be over in under an hour.  A case in point is Alnwick, a battle fought on July 13, 1174 by William the Lion of Scotland, and men of his personal bodyguard, against a larger force of English knights under Ranulf de Glanville.

William I of Scotland, aka the Lion, was taking advantage of a personal quarrel between Henry II and his sons to reassert age-old Scottish claims to the English counties of Cumbria and Northumbria.  In addition to being King of Scots, William was also Earl of Northumbria, though he'd given that title up to Henry II in 1157.  William was constantly having regrets about doing so, and thinking of ways to get the title, and the two counties, back under Scottish control.  While Henry II was no joke on a battlefield, he was in Normandy dealing with his fractious children.  This was the time to make a move.  William had previously marched into Northumbria in 1173, advancing on Newcastle and Prudhoe Castle.  Finding both to be heavily defended, he had retreated.  In 1174, he tried again, augmenting his army with Flemish mercenaries. 

He divided his army into three groups.  While the Earl of Fife was busy attacking Warkworth, William besieged Alnwick Castle.  He allowed his force to become spread out, meaning that most of his knights and the Flemish mercs were elsewhere when Ranulf de Glanville and a party of 400 knights showed up outside the castle.  De Glanville's men arrived at Alnwick shortly after dawn on July 13, 1174, in a heavy fog.  William was in camp, surrounded by his personal bodyguard of about 60 men.  De Glanville saw his opportunity and raided the camp.  William scrambled to raise a defense and, in the process, his horse was killed underneath him and he was captured.  Most of his men then surrendered.

William was held prisoner in Newcastle, then moved to Falaise in Normandy to face Henry II personally.  Lucky for him, Henry had his hands full with his sons, the aftermath of the Becket controversy, and rebellious lords in England.  He let William go after giving up, not only Northumbria and Cumbria, but also Berwick Castle and even Edinburgh Castle.  William was allowed to go free.  While traveling back home through Newcastle he was nearly killed again by an English mob.  The message was clear.  They didn't appreciate Scottish invasions.  William recovered Berwick in 1189, when Richard the Lionheart needed ready cash to fund his crusade.  And, though Scots would breach the border several more times, they gave up on Northumbria and Cumbria, now Northumberland and Cumberland, William's descendant Alexander II reaffirming that these two pieces of real estate belonged to the English per treaty in 1237.  Thus the outcome of Alnwick I was to effectively establish the English/Scottish border as it exists today.

 

Did It Happen: Edward I and Isabel MacDuff

It's one of the enduring legends of the Scottish Wars of Independence.  Isabel MacDuff, Countess of Buchan, crowns Robert Bruce King of Scots and pays for it by being captured by the English and kept in a cage on a castle wall for over four years. 

Did it happen?  Yes.

Particularly during the 19th century, historians of the time were eager to exonerate Edward I, quibbling over whether the word cage was to be taken literally.  However, this was the same man who devised, or approved, one of the most infamous punishments ever known-hanging, drawing and quartering.  It was first used on rebellious Welsh princes, then on William Wallace, and became the common punishment for traitors until the 18th century.  The Hammer of the Scots didn't care whether the people he was abusing were male or female.  Any Scot who fell into his hands faced a grim fate, particularly if they were connected to Robert Bruce.  Scottish custom demanded that a King of Scots be crowned by a representative of the MacDuff family.  Bruce had been crowned at Scone in March, 1306.  When Isabel MacDuff, wife of John Comyn, Earl of Buchan, arrived at Scone a day late, Bruce agreed to be crowned again by Isabel to make sure that his coronation was seen as legit by all Scots.  Isabel's husband had been a rival of Bruce's for the crown and was now a vassal of Edward.  In agreeing to perform the ritual, Isabel was defying both her husband and Edward Plantagenet and taking her life into her hands.

Robert Bruce would suffer defeat at the Battle of Methven in June, 1306.  He, his army and his family and most loyal supporters had to scramble for their lives.  His wife, Elizabeth and daughter Marjorie, his sisters Mary and Christian, along with Isabel MacDuff took refuge with the Earl of Ross, who betrayed them to Edward.  Edward had a unique revenge ready for two of his captives.  Elizabeth de Burgh Bruce had powerful relatives in England, so he sent her and Christian to a convent, turning his wrath on Mary, Margery and Isabel.  He sent Isabel to Berwick with these specific instructions. "Let her be closely confined in an abode of stone and iron made in the shape of a cross, and let her be hung up out of doors in the open air at Berwick, that both in life and after her death, she may be a spectacle and eternal reproach to travelers." Mary was dispatched to Roxburgh Castle under similar conditions and something similar was planned for 12-year-old Marjorie, though Edward relented and had her incarcerated in the Tower instead.

Sources differ as to what form the cage contraption took.  It almost sounds like a gibbet, an iron frame in which criminals were hung, either after death or to die of exposure and remain caged until their bones withered away.  It's also unclear when and how much time Isabel and Mary spent in the cages.  Were they allowed indoors or under some shelter at night, or kept in the open round the clock?  Since both women survived for nearly four years, it's likely they were allowed some kind of shelter, through probably not by much.  After four years time, when Robert Bruce was strong enough to threaten the English borders, Mary and Isabel were moved to a Carmelite convent in 1310, and later transferred again in 1313.  There, history loses site of Isabel MacDuff.  She most likely died in prison.  The Bruce women were allowed to return to Scotland in 1315.  Marjorie became the ancestress of the Stewart kings.