Places: Agincourt Battlefield

On October 25, 1415, two armies met for one of the most climactic battles in history.  At stake was the domination of most of the territory that makes up modern France.  Henry V of England defeated a French army lead by Charles d'Albret in a fight that is the subject of at least one Shakespeare play, a movie based on that play, a few novels, and untold amounts of ink spilled by professional and amateur military historians. 

Azincourt is a French commune or township in the Pas de Calais region of France, in what would have been Plantagenet territory in Medieval times.  At one point, a castle locally called Azincourt stood surrounded by fields.  In October, heavy rains had turned those fields to mud, and the French army, with a large contingent of mounted knights and men-at-arms, was bogged down and at Henry's mercy.  After the battle, Henry V was given the opportunity to choose the name for the fight and he selected the name of the castle, Azincourt, which was corrupted to Agincourt and has stayed that way ever since.  The castle eventually crumbled into a ruin and the sparse village in the area took its name from the battle, using the French, Azincourt.  The remains of the castle foundation are still visible.

What Is: a Herald

In modern times, royal heralds are often reduced to stock characters, wearing gaudy tabards, playing trumpets at Renaissance Fairs or making long-winded pronouncements in cartoons and movies.  In reality, they played a more important role in Medieval society, akin to modern ambassadors and diplomats.

 A herald, or more properly an officer of arms, were originally messengers employed by kings or other nobles to carry messages or make official announcements.  To signify their authority to represent their employer, they wore tabards of either their master's colors or emblems from his coat of arms.  As messengers and representatives, they would have had to have a knowledge of appropriate protocol and etiquette.  During tournaments, heralds acted as referees and police, making sure that the rules were followed and no disturbances broke out.  They were often in charge of arranging which knights fought on which side, or in which contest against each other.  To do this required an encyclopedic knowledge of the various badges and symbols used by each knight.  Heralds were also responsible for making sure that no knight displayed any badges or heraldic symbols to which he was no entitled.  This authority made heralds early arbiters on which marks and symbols belonged to which family, a science that came to be known as heraldry. 

Heralds played a vital role in Medieval battles.  A herald could be sent by one king to another to offer terms for peace, or to convey that a challenging king wished to fight rather than parley.  It's in this role that a French herald appears in Shakespeare's depiction of the prelude to Agincourt.  At the battle in 1415, French and English heralds observed the battle.  As the victor of the battle, it was Henry V's right to name the battle.  The king inquired the name of a nearby castle and a French herald let him know it was called Agincourt.  The name stuck and portions of the ruined castle survive to this day.  Heralds continued their ceremonial function through the Plantagenet and into the Tudor era.  As their profession evolved, ranks of heralds emerged.  The most senior heralds were known as Kings of Arms, often with an official designation, such as Garter King of Arms.  Lesser heralds or heralds in training were known as pursuivants, from a French word for follower.

In modern times, heralds still play a role in Royal ceremonies, insuring that appropriate protocol is followed.  It is Garter King of Arms who designs and issues new coats of arms for people deemed entitled to one, such as when the Middleton family became royals adjacent by Catherine's marriage to William.  Lord Lyon King of Arms performs a similar function in Scotland.

Chronicler: Matthew Paris, 1200-1259

Monasteries served many purposes in the Medieval era.  Along with Universities and royal courts, they could be repositories of learning and scholarship.  Many monks did more than just pray and copy manuscripts, they actually preserved knowledge of events and people around them.  Matthew Paris, or Matthew of Paris, 1200-1259, was a Benedictine monk based at the Abbey of St. Albans in Hertfordshire. Matthew was not only a talented chronicler, albeit with his biases, he was also an artist and cartographer, illustrating his manuscripts with his own drawings and even watercolors.

Matthew knew French, but despite his name, he was English and wasn't from France, let alone Paris.  He may have been a relation of the Paris family of Hildersham, Cambridgeshire.  He entered St. Albans Abbey in 1217.  Though many young men became monks as boys or even as teenagers, Matthew's access to royalty and other nobles of his day indicated either that he was older or that he or his family had important connections.  Except for a trip to Norway as a messenger from Louis IX of France to King Haakon IV, he remained at St. Albans, devoting himself to chronicling and illustrating English and European history.  He took over the Abbey's chronicle from another early historian, Roger of Wendover, and spent a great deal of time editing Roger's work and adding his own material.  This became the basis of Paris' Chronica Majora, his magnum opus.  The Chronica is often cited by historians for information on the early Plantagenet period, though Paris' versions of events were often slanted.  Despite being an Englishman, based in England, he developed a fascination for German Emperor Frederick II, then later criticized Frederick in other works.

So, how did a cloistered monk gather material for his works?  Matthew had a network of contacts to whom he sent books and received books, manuscripts and information.  Some of his notes are contained in his manuscripts.  He asked one correspondent to "keep this book till Easter."  He also made contact with the Countess of Arundel, asking her to send him works on St. Thomas the Martyr and St. Edward the Confessor.  The book about Edward he later sent on the Countess of Cornwall.  Thus, he functioned as an informal librarian for nobles whom he could mine for information about the outside world.  He illustrated his works with drawings and watercolors, sometimes collaborating with outside artists.  He instructed one watercolorist, working on a book for the Countess of Winchester, on which illustrations of saints were to go on what page. 

Many of his manuscripts survive in the Dublin University library, the British Museum and other museums around England.  Among the prose works, sketches and watercolors are several maps of the Isle of Britain.  In addition to his Major Chronicle, he also wrote a history of England and biographies of St. Edward the Confessor and St. Thomas Becket, among others.  He accompanied his prose text with illustrations, sometimes covering half the page, or in the margins of the work.  His reputation as a chronicler was such that Henry III of the England and his brother, Richard of Cornwall were frequent informants.  Henry visited St. Albans frequently, and talked openly with Paris about history and royal policy.  Though privately Paris was critical of the King, circulated copies of his manuscript omit much of the criticism.

Mercenary: Falkes de Breaute, d 1226

In the wake of the recent terror tragedies in London, it was initially thought that the Vauxhall area near London Bridge was one of the areas stricken.  That later turned out not to be the case.  However, the Vauxhall area near the Thames and Vauxhall Bridge, and the automotive company, Vauxhall, take their name from an estate belonging to a Norman mercenary in the service of King John and Henry III, Falkes de Breaute, who died in 1226.

Falkes was born in Normandy.  His origins were obscure, but he was likely of common stock, not gentry or nobility.  There was only one way up from a life as a peasant and that was to be skilled at weapons, which Falkes was.  He became a mercenary and eventually entered the service of King John.  John soon entrusted him with a mission to Poitou in 1206.  Later Falkes was given the wardship of Glamorgan and Wenlock in Wales and knighted.  He took the name of the Norman village were he was likely born, de Breaute, and used the griffon as his badge, which is part of the car company logo to this day.  Falkes kept on climbing in the royal service.  He kept the King's favor by his reputation in the Welsh Marches or border area for putting down any rebellion and upholding the King's authority. 

Though Breaute's origins was a foreign-born mercenary, he was loyal to King John during the Magna Carta crisis and one of the signatories on the King's behalf.  Later, Falkes was loyal to John during the First Barons War.  His alliance with John marked him out for particular contempt for those barons who believed that John's tyrannical rule was infringing their rights.  Falkes had command of part of the King's army facing the barons and held Oxford against the baronial army.  Later, Falkes and the Earl of Chester sacked Worcester.  John was pleased, and gave Falkes the hand of a wealthy widow, Margaret, whose late husband's family, the Redvers, were related to the Earls of Devon.  This marriage increased Falkes' status.  One of his wife's properties was along the Thames River and Falkes now had the money to build an estate worthy of his status.  Called Falkes' Hall, later Foxhall, and now Vauxhall, the property gave its name to the car company.

When John died, Falkes was named one of the executors of his will and a signatory of the reissued Magna Carta.  Under John's son Henry, Falkes was made the sheriff of 5 counties, including Oxfordshire, Buckinghamshire, Cambridgeshire, Bedfordshire, and Northamptonshire.  In the continuing Barons War, he was infamous for the sack of the City of St. Albans.  Apparently Margaret felt that her husband had gone too far in how he'd treated the City.  She prevailed on him to compensate St. Albans for his rough treatment with a sum of money.  He went on to other successes in the Barons War, which saw the installation of a French prince as a pseudo King of England.  Eventually, Louis was sent back to France and the rightful King, Henry III, was Falkes guest at Christmas in Northampton.  Soon, though, Henry's justiciar, Hugh de Burgh, began to alienate Falkes and other erstwhile supporters of the King by demanding back some of the property they had acquired during the war.

Disputes over land with several barons began to create more enemies for Falkes than he could deal with.  The barons rose again and while Henry III fled, Falkes was one of the royalist leaders who attempted to storm the Tower of London and hold the city for the King.  The siege failed and De Burgh held onto his power.  De Burgh, seeking revenge, accused Falkes of wrongful seizure of several properties and promptly confiscated them, also removing Falkes from his sheriffdoms.  This was too much for Falkes and he went over to the barons side, fighting against the King.  He was excommunicated, which further angered and alienated Falkes, who had at one time been a loyal servant of the King.  After his brother was hanged at De Burgh's order, and having lost his property and position, Falkes begged the King's pardon and was forced to go into exile in France, where he was imprisoned by the now Louis VIII in retaliation for having fought against him earlier in the war.  Margaret, fed up and wanting to recover some of her own property, filed for divorce and did recover some of her land. 

Falkes was eventually released from prison on intercession of the Pope, possibly on account of a vow to go on Crusade.  Released and reinstated to communion, Falkes traveled to Burgundy, where he met up with an English knight who had his own score to settle and imprisoned him again.  Released again, the Pope bailing him out one more time, he ultimately made his way to Rome to live under the protection of the Pope, and died of food poisoning from bad fish.

Places: Tomb of Richard III, Leicester Cathedral

On August 22, 1485, the last Plantagenet king of England, Richard III, died at the Battle of Bosworth, fighting for his life and his crown.  Sources from both sides indicate that, till the last, Richard did credit to his Plantagenet forebears by dying fighting.  When he was killed, most likely by one or more blows from a sword, halberd or other blunt force weapon to his head, his body was thrown over a horse and taken to the nearby town of Leicester.  There it was displayed for a time before being buried at the Greyfriars Church.  There it was interred, thrown face down in a hole too small, the arms possibly bound and the legs and head askew.  A rough fate for a king who died in a rough time.

Later, in 1495, Richard's opponent, now Henry VII, paid for a monument in Greyfriars Church.  However, the Church was destroyed during the Dissolution of the Monasteries c 1536.  Rumor held that Richard's remains were dug up then and thrown into the nearby Soar River.  The site where the church stood became a private garden and a memorial stone to the dead king was visible there as of 1612.  Later, a plaque to Richard's memory was erected in Leicester Cathedral, though he wasn't buried there--yet.  Centuries swept by, and the garden became a parking lot in Leicester.  Someone pained a large R for a reserved parking space over the spot, little guessing who was buried in the rubble beneath.  Finally, in 2012, the Richard III Society, the University of Leicester and the Leicester City Council among others, sponsored a project to track down Richard III's body, not only to find out how he'd died and counteract rumors that his body had been disposed of, but also to pay respect to a man who still must be considered innocent because he wasn't ever proved guilty of killing his two nephews. 

Researchers tracked down the site of the garden and the possible layout of the choir section of the old Greyfriars Church.  They chose the reserved parking space to begin digging and, in a lucky break, found a human skeleton.  It was a man who'd suffered from scoliosis during his life.  He'd died a violent death and been disposed of in haste, with little dignity.  Forensic scientists reconstructed his skull, which bore a resemblance to pictures of Richard III.  Other studies confirmed that he most likely died of wounds suffered in battle.  It wasn't until they tracked down descendants of Richard's sister Anne of York that they found the mitochondrial link.  Richard III, the last Plantagenet King of England, hadn't been destroyed at death.  Now it was time to give him an appropriate burial.

Debate ensued about whether he should be buried in York Minster or Leicester, but Leicester was ultimately chosen.  An appropriate tomb was designed with a unique touch.  A Canadian descendant of Anne's just happened to be carpenter and was designated to build Great-Uncle Richard's coffin, which would contain a lead-lined coffin with the King's bones inside it.  On March 26, 2015, he was given a religious burial service in Leicester Cathedral.  Present were descendants the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, and the Countess of Wessex, members of Anne's family and actor Benedict Cumberland, who also has Plantagenet descent.  Richard's name, dates and personal motto, Loyaulte Me Lie, or Loyalty Binds Me, are inscribed on the modern-designed raised tomb.  Richard's body lies at rest, the controversies of his life and reign go on.

  

Mother of Lions: Eleanor of Aquitaine, Part 3

In 1189, Henry was dead and Richard was King of England.  Likely, Eleanor heard the news from William Marshal, who had been sent from Richard to England to order her release.  Richard was almost unopposed as King, but there were problems.  Years before, Henry II had arranged the betrothal of Richard to Alys, daughter of Louis VII by a subsequent marriage and sister of the current King of France, Phillip II, who was no friend of the Plantagenets.  Eleanor and Richard both believed that Alys had been Henry's mistress.  Unwilling to return her and her dowry to Phillip, and also unwilling to marry her to Richard, Eleanor kept Alys in limbo, drifting from castle to castle in England to keep her out of Phillip's possible reach.  Then, there was John.  Contrary to the legend, John was given some lands from his parents' join inheritance, but they were chicken feet compared to what Henry, Geoffrey and Richard got.  Even marriage with a wealthy heiress, Isabel of Gloucester, wasn't enough to placate John, probably because he faced excommunication if he so much as consummated their marriage.

Richard threw more drama into the mix.  He wanted to go on Crusade.  That meant money, men and material.  England had always been the money pit for the Plantagenet family's wars but after the constant strife of Henry's reign finances were strained.  Richard levied new taxes and strained his exchequer to the breaking point.  Levies came from all over the Plantagenet's far-flung empire.  Eleanor devoted her considerable energies to spearheading this effort, both in England and in her own estates.  She was also concerned about finding Richard a wife.  In 1189, she was pushing 70, a ripe old age by any standards.  Still, she traveled in person to the Kingdom of Navarre to escort her chosen bride for her son, the Princess Berengaria, and travel with her to Sicily, where Richard was staging his Crusade.  Afraid to be away from England, lest John flare up, Eleanor left Berengaria with her daughter Joanna and headed back to London.

And, just in time.  John was already beginning to work his way among the barons who had remained at home, furious at the expense of the Crusade and believing that Richard was shirking his duty to England.  It would take all of Eleanor's considerable cunning to keep the barons' allegiance to Richard.  Then, in 1192, as Richard was on his way home from the Crusade, he was captured by agents of Leopold of Austria.  They demanded a heavy ransom and King Phillip of France demanded his sister's return or else an invasion of England.  John also seized that moment to rally the barons for an attempt at the throne.  Eleanor was busy, writing letters to the Pope, to any ruler in Europe who would intercede with Phillip and Leopold to allow Richard to return.  She was also spearheading the ransom effort, in England, Normandy, Aquitaine and anywhere else she could find money or credit.  Richard returned home in 1196, but was soon away, dealing with rebellion in Normandy.  He died in 1199 and John was king, like it or not.

Eleanor was now an old woman and her health was failing.  It was time in the Medieval world for her to be thinking of her soul.  She and Henry II had long patronized Fontevrault Abbey, where Henry II and Richard I lay entombed.  Eleanor retired to the Abbey and lived out her life.  As per custom, just before her death, she took formal vows as a nun.  Her tomb survives today at Fontevrault, though her actual remains were likely scattered during the French Revolution.  Her life ever since has been the subject of artists, poets, novelists and script writers ever since.

Mother of Lions: Eleanor of Aquitaine, Part 2

Much to Louis of France's chagrin, Eleanor's marriage to Henry of England was more than fruitful.  In addition to three girls, Eleanor, Matilda and Joanna, she bore him no less than five boys, William (died young), Henry, Geoffrey, Richard and John.  Just as Eleanor and Louis had had incompatible personalities, Henry and Eleanor were too much alike.  Both were intelligent, calculating, hot-tempered and used to being in control.  They loved each other as much as they fought each other.  Henry had several mistresses and a few biological children, the idea of which irked Eleanor to no end.  Like many women of her class and era, she expected that her husband would sleep around.  However, any offspring posed a nuisance and a threat to her own growing brood, something Eleanor would never tolerate.

Matters were further complicated as the boys grew up.  Henry, Jr., was expected to inherit England and Normandy.  Geoffrey was married to a woman who was Duchess of Brittany in her own right.  That left Richard to inherit his mother's lands of Aquitaine and Poitou.  Henry, the Young King, though crowned as a junior king to his father, was never allowed to exercise real power.  He also sensed a threat in his brothers Geoffrey and Richard.  Eleanor's barons in Aquitaine weren't about to accept Henry II as their overlord and were constantly on the verge of rebellion.  Richard, likewise, refused to acknowledge Henry as their father's heir.  England and Normandy would be his if he could take them by force, and he intended to.  By 1167, whatever love or need for each other Henry and Eleanor thought they possessed was spent.  Henry's romance with Rosamund de Clifford was common knowledge.  After Christmas, Eleanor left for Poitou, agreeing to an amicable separation from Henry.  While on her way there, Eleanor was nearly ambushed by the troublesome Lusignan family, and only saved by the efforts of a young knight named William Marshal, whose career she helped to sponsor later. 

 Between 1168 and 1173, Eleanor remained in Poitou.  Legend has her presiding over Courts of Love with her daughter Marie, where lovelorn knights and maidens posed questions regarding the various complexities of relationships, which were ruled on by a salon of older, more experienced nobles.  Modern historians doubt such courts existed.  Eleanor's own properties were vast and subject to constant threat from Henry, from Louis, and from rival houses like the Lusignans.  She was most likely too busy to untangle other people's relationships.  She may have presided over a salon-type court, and was known to patronize troubadours and scholars of various subjects, but that's likely as far as it went.  In England, Henry was in an open feud with his Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket and, by 1173, was at war three ways with Henry the Young King, Geoffrey and Richard.  The issues were, as they were always, power and money.  Sources differ as to the role Eleanor played in instigating her sons.  However, once they rose against their father, she decided to back her children.  In 1174, near Rouen, she was captured and returned to England, a prisoner, where she would remain for the next several years.

Henry and his sons patched up an uneasy peace.  Likely the thought that his sons would come after him again kept Henry from executing or divorcing Eleanor.  She was moved to various castles, treated as a queen, but kept under close supervision.  Her contact with her sons was strictly monitored.  Tragedy struck in 1183 when Henry, the Young King, died while in another revolt against his father.  Years later, Eleanor would write to Pope Celestine III that she was haunted by young Henry's memory.  Geoffrey would die in a tournament in 1186.  Finally, Henry II died while trying to quell a rebellion of both Richard and John.  Back in England, Eleanor was immediately released from captivity to await Richard's return to his realm.  No time for retirement.  There was work to do.