On Finding Strange Skeletons From the Past

Now that the excitement from yesterday's announcement of the finding of Richard III's body has abated a little, I thought it only right to do a little post.

I looked at all of the evidence, which, although it could be considered circumstantial by harder-nosed academics, was certainly enough to convince me on the balance of probability alone that the skeleton found in the car park was indeed England's lost king. I must admit, when the find was first announced I thought it very unlikely that the bones found would turn out to be anything other than either an abbot or  maybe even a patron from another time period. I thought that maybe Leicester university were pulling off a very clever piece of PR maybe to gain more funds for the project or at the very least, recognition for the institution.

Richard III's skeleton as it was found in the car park.

As such, I refused to let myself get too excited - I've watched far too many series of Time Team to know how such digs can end up being ultimately disappointing after promising so much. Nevertheless, as I prepared to watch the announcement yesterday, I found myself sitting on the edge of my seat. Little clues had appeared in the press over the recent days as to the result being positive - but even so, I needed to hear those words confirming it to be so. And when I did, I must admit that I cried - even though I am no Ricardian, and that my period of study is not the Wars of the Roses. There was no two ways about it though - it was an emotional event.

Of course there has been criticism about the way the DNA was used (by all accounts mitochondrial DNA can often lead to mistakes being made, as in the case of Cheddar man) - but all in all it would seem churlish to dismiss the findings when so many other details correlate with historical record. There was also alot of criticism from some quarters about the program on Channel 4 which showed the whole thing from the car park being dug up to the final analysis. I won't go into that here though - I intend to write another post on that in my Free Range Scribbles Blog later.

But all this hoo-ha takes me back a few years to the discovery of another medieval skeleton, this one at Hulton Abbey. The archaeologist in charge excitedly claimed that she thought it was the remains of Hugh Despenser, a claim which, for many reasons, I argued against (see this article). The 'evidence' in this case was the weakest of circumstantial facts (approximate age, period of death and injuries that may have been indicative of being hung, drawn and quartered) and yet ignored the historical record that Hugh's remains had definitely been buried at Tewkesbury abbey, that Hulton Abbey had absolutely nothing to do with him or his supporters - or that many men suffered the same fate during that period. Nevertheless, it still made headlines. And, to be honest, I wasn't that worried. Hugh Despenser had some great publicity from the find, as did my blog and, I suppose the archaeologist and her institution got some good press too. So, a win, win (although I would never have let the issue go without disputing it!)*

Bones from the Hulton skeleton

So who do we dig up next? What historical mysteries can science solve now? The Princes in the Tower perhaps? Or whether it really is Edward II buried in Gloucester Cathedral, and not some stand in while he escaped to live in peace in Italy. Now we have Plantagenet DNA, both would be possible. But even if we proved the skeletons found at the tower were those of the princes (that is, i the DNA in the bones is still viable), we still would not be able to solve the problem of their fate. As to Edward II, would it really be worth it to desecrate his tomb just to satisfy our curiosity? Science has started to open up the world of archaeology and history - and I have long advocated a multi-disciplinary approach to looking at the past - but I also think we must take care not to push too many boundaries just to satisfy our need to know. The dead still deserve respect, no matter how long they've been dead: at least Richard's body will now be found a more suitable resting place than underneath a social services car park.

*As I write, I have just come across the publicised journal account of this find with all of the sources for her speculation that I was previously missing. Therefore, to be fair, I need to go over it again now to see if she can still convince me that Hugh has been found too. Watch this space!

The Half-Hanged Man: Guest Interview with David Pilling

Regular readers may remember that a while ago this blog was host to guest David Pilling, at the launch of Folville's Law. Well, he's back again with another great book: The Half-Hanged Man, but this time, I decided to ask him some questions... 

LDS:  Can you give me a brief summary of the The Half-Hanged Man? 

DP:  The Half-Hanged Man is the story of a fictional English mercenary captain during the high days of the routiers or Free Companies that ravaged much of Europe during the late 14th century. Like many of his real-life counterparts, Thomas Page is an English commoner who rises to brief status and fame thanks to his skill as a soldier. Along the way he makes some terrible enemies, including Captain-General Hugh Calveley, an appalling black-armoured giant who wields a glaive (a type of battle-axe) that most men are incapable of lifting. Page recounts the story of his extraordinary life to Jean Froissart, the famous French chronicler, inside a tavern in Eastcheap. Froissart harbours doubts that the old soldier is who he claims to be… 

LDS: What drew you to write about the Free Companies that terrified and burned their way through France and Spain during the Hundred Years War? 

DP: The sheer charisma of many of the captains, men such as John Hawkwood, Robert Knolles and Bertrand du Guesclin, who clawed their way to high rank, despite having little or no noble blood: John Hawkwood’s father was a tanner, a particularly revolting trade. The drama and brutality of the time – Europe was plunged into chaos for many years – also appealed. 

LDS:  I've noticed that, in many of your books, you seem to write about the fourteenth century. What is it exactly that draws you to that period? 

DP: The blood and guts, basically! And the insane politics. The fourteenth century was the ‘high point’ of the Middle Ages, in all its glory and violence and squalor. Many of the great names of the period – Edward III, the Black Prince, Isabella ‘the She-Wolf of France’, Pedro the Cruel etc – are a storyteller’s dream. 

LDS: And then we have the fascinating character of Thomas Page, the 'Half-Hanged Man' of the title. I would love to know what inspired you to invent such a memorable man. 

DP: He is a combination of several of the real-life English captains of the period, plus a few touches of my own. My initial idea was to write a tale about a man who survives a hanging – hence the ‘half-hanged’ part of the title. I married that to my love of the fourteenth century and it all snowballed from there. 

LDS: The book is told in three parts to the medieval chronicler Jean Froissart. The first two parts are by Page and the last one by his sworn enemy, Hugh Calveley (a real personality from history). What made you choose Calveley and how was it trying to discover his 'voice'? 

DP: When I researched the many bizarre, half-fascinating, half-repellent figures from the period, Calveley stood out. He was physically gigantic and monstrously strong – seven feet tall, according to contemporary accounts, with a mane of red hair and incisors he had specially sharpened by a Moorish barber to terrify his enemies. As a man, I suspect he was every bit as ruthless and brutish as his peers, and so this is how I wrote him. He is not without a sense of honour, though, and is very touchy when it comes to his family being slighted. As a ‘new man’ i.e. the product of small Cheshire gentry trying to rise in the world, he is very much conscious of his lowly position in the world compared to the great lords he rubs shoulders with. All these things influence his actions. 

LDS: Many authors find that their characters become really strong voices, almost taking over the story from the author. Did this happen to you at all? 

DP: I had a strange experience writing the second part, concerning Eleanor or ‘The Raven of Toledo’. When writing Eleanor’s story, I felt like someone else was writing through me. The ‘tone’ of The Raven of Toledo is different to Page and Calveley’s sections, and she comes across as a more human and vulnerable personality. 

LDS: The scenes that stood out most for me in this book were the battle scenes. Most authors find them quite hard to write, however I got the feeling from the flowing of the narrative (never mind the blood!), that these scenes were something that you particularly enjoyed crafting. Am I right? 

DP: I enjoyed writing them in the sense that it was a challenge to capture the terror and excitement of a battle. Descriptions of battles in many novels are often terribly bland, in my opinion, or go overboard, soaking the reader in blood and gore. I tried for a convincing medium. Medieval fights weren’t pleasant affairs. All of it, of course, written by someone who has never been anywhere near a battle of any kind and wouldn’t go near one for a pension! 

LDS: It is quite a complex era of history, and most of the meat of your book takes place either in France or Spain. How much research did you have to do, and how hard was it? 

DP: Eleanor’s story required much more research than the others, since my knowledge of medieval Spain was pretty limited. I had to buy an extremely obscure book on Castile and the reign of Pedro the Cruel from a university library in the U.S. It was quite a surprise to discover that the politics of the Spanish kingdoms were much more complex and savage than in England and France. Men like Pedro and the aptly-named Charles the Bad were mesmerizing, truly awful men who gloried in their evil and took a twisted pride in it. 

LDS: So how long did it take you to write it, from idea to last draft? 

DP: Over a year, much longer than my other books. I kept giving up and coming back to it until it was done. 10. Where can people buy this book? On Amazon via Kindle and paperback. I hope to have it up on Smashwords soon as well.

***

Thankyou for being my guest David. To give you all a little taste of The Half-Hanged Man, here is an excerpt:

 “I led my portion of the rearguard across the open ground to the right of the prince’s battalion, and surged into the first company of Castilian reinforcements as they tried to arrange into a defensive line. They were well-equipped foot with steel helms and leather jacks, glaives and axes, but demoralised and unwilling to stand against a charge of heavy horse. I skewered a serjeant in the front rank with my lance and rode over him as the men behind him scattered, yelling in fear and hurling their banners away as they ran. If all the Castilians had behaved in such a manner, we would have had an easy time of it, but now Enrique flung his household knights into the fray. It had started to rain heavily, sheets of water blown by strong winds across the battlefield, and a phalanx of Castilian lancers on destriers came plunging out of the murk, smashing into the front rank of my division. A lance shattered against my cuisse, almost knocking me from the saddle, but I kept my seat and slashed at the knight with my broadsword as he hurtled past, chopping an iron leaf from the chaplet encircling his basinet, but doing no other damage.
My men held together under the Castilian charge, and soon there was a fine swirling mêlée in progress. I was surrounded by visored helms and glittering blades, men yelling and horses screaming, and glimpsed my standard bearer ahead of me, shouting and fending off two Castilians with the butt of his lance. Another Englishman rode in to help him, throwing his arms around one of the Castilians and heaving him out of the saddle with sheer brute strength, and then a fresh wave of steel and horseflesh, thrown up by the violent, shifting eddies of battle, closed over them and shut off my view. I couldn’t bear to lose my banner again, and charged into the mass of fighting men, clearing a path with the sword’s edge. A mace or similar hammered against my back-plate, sending bolts of agony shooting up my spine, and my foot slipped out of the stirrup as I leaned drunkenly in the saddle, black spots reeling before my eyes.”

David also has a blog at: http://pillingswritingcorner.blogspot.co.uk and a joint website at http://www.boltonandpilling.com

Hugh Despenser's Execution at Hereford 24th November 1326 (republished)

The problem with a study of Hugh Despenser’s execution is that although it appears in detail in several secondary sources, the authors often do not reference where they got the details from. Several chronicles mention the execution, including Knighton, Froissart, Jean le Bel, the Annales Paulini, the Brut and a Cambridge, Trinity College manuscript MS R.5.41, with varying amounts of detail and with various anomalies in the record of events. Until I am able to see these primary sources for myself, translate and cross-reference them, I’m afraid this post will echo the books I have already read. However, as usual, I will drop in a few morsels of speculation!

After the judgement had been read out, Hugh was dragged to his place of execution. Most of the sources say that he was dragged by four horses instead of the usual two. Was this maybe to make the point of the importance of his death or perhaps just to provide a greater spectacle for the watching and jeering crowd? How he was dragged - whether wrapped in a hide or on a hurdle of some kind is not known, however I suspect that in his already weakened state, being dragged over the rough roads wrapped in a hide would probably have been more than his body could have taken. And the powers that be (Isabella and Mortimer) certainly would not have wanted him dead before he faced his justice.

His place of execution is also a matter of debate. Some sources say that the gallows were built just outside of the castle walls, and others that they were situated in the town’s large market-place. Either site would have had its benefits. The fact that he was executed outside his own castle would have really hammered home the disenfranchisement of both his lands and his life. As many of the sources say that the trial took place in the market, then it would make sense that he was dragged elsewhere to meet his doom, i.e. the castle. Also - and this is really high speculation once again - if Edward II had been taken to Hereford (as I suggested was possible in the last post), he would most likely have been imprisoned for the duration in the castle. What better way to make a point about despised favourites than to have one hung where he could hear (and perhaps see?) it being done? But, as I said, this is pure speculation and I do not have a shred of evidence to back this up (at this time) other than that Henry of Lancaster, Edward’s captor, was also at the trial.

The market place is the other contender. In some ways I feel that this is the more practical option. After looking at the layout of Hereford castle (as it would have been - there is nothing left now) - it was surrounded on three sides by a moat and on the fourth by the River Wye. I find it hard to see where would have been a good place for the gallows to have been built. Of course there may have been some open ground inside the walls and close to the castle that I am not aware of. Or maybe the execution actually took place outside of the city walls altogether (there is no evidence for this). On the other hand the market place was central and had enough room for a gallows and a large crowd to bear witness. Some of the area of the old market still exists in Hereford but a large extent has now been built on by modern shops such as M&S and Macdonalds.

What does seem to be agreed upon is that the gallows themselves were about 50foot high - extremely tall and again emphasizing the importance of Hugh’s death at the hands of the state. I would imagine that such a structure could not have been put up overnight so maybe Hugh’s trial and execution at Hereford were already a foregone conclusion before he even reached the walls. Underneath the gallows a huge fire was lit, its purpose to be clear all too soon.

Hugh was hung from the cross-beam and slowly strangled until he was semi-conscious. Then he was released from the noose before he could choke to death and most probably revived with slaps or cold water before being stripped and tied to a ladder (or some other kind of frame/table). Then the executioner climbed up beside him and, according to Froissart, cut off his penis and testicles before throwing them into the fire below. Then his belly was cut open, his entrails and heart pulled out and, once again, burnt in the fire below. Probably (and mercifully) by this stage he was now dead. After this he was taken off the ladder, beheaded and his body cut into quarters. The different parts were to be sent to various places: the head (placed on a pike) to London to be displayed on London bridge, and his limbs to Bristol, York, Dover and Newcastle. The crowd, by all accounts, went ecstatic at his demise, with great cheering and celebration. Queen Isabella and Mortimer, also apparently watched the event - even feasting while doing so. Obviously all the blood didn’t put them off their food.

As to how Hugh behaved at his death, according to Weir (who does not state a source for this), Despenser ‘at first suffered with great patience, asking forgiveness of the bystanders, but then a ghastly, inhuman howl broke from him’. This makes for an irresistible image of a man trying to die bravely and it is the sort of sentiment that is likely to be repeated often because of its emotive elements. Unfortunately Weir is not always the most reliable of biographers and without a direct reference to the source I cannot say whether this is part of a chronicle or just an embellishment of the text. Hopefully, when I have studied all the relevant documents I shall be able to either confirm or deny this part. If anyone has any info on this, please let me know.

Hugh was not the only victim of the scaffold that day. His loyal fellow captive, Simon of Reading was also sentenced to hang for having allegedly insulted the Queen (which probably wasn’t a difficult thing to do). However he was hung far below Despenser as his crimes were considered to be less (they could hardly have been more!) and he was hung until dead. Despenser’s colleague, Baldock, being of the church, was handed over to the decidedly unsympathetic Bishop Orleton of Hereford. Orleton imprisoned Baldock in his London residence. However a mob managed to break in and snatch him. Their justification was that only the City itself should have the right to a prison, and so Baldock was taken to Newgate where, it is reported, he died from terrible abuse at the hands of the other prisoners.

Two more issues arise from Hugh’s execution: the symbolism of the manner of his death (especially the castration) and also the aftermath, and what it meant for his family and associates. I shall cover these two issues in the next two posts.

Sources:
King Edward II - Roy Martin Haines
The Tyranny and Fall of Edward II - Natalie Fryde
The Greatest Traitor - Ian Mortimer
Isabella - Alison Weir
"Deconstructing Identities on the Scaffold: the Execution of Hugh Despenser the Younger, 1326" - Danielle Westerhof
Herefordshire County Council website

Image: Illusration of Hugh the younger Despenser's execution from a manuscript of Froissart (Bibliotheque Nationale MS Fr. 2643, folio 197v)