Hugh Despenser Commits ABH

For Hugh Despenser the younger, the parliament of January 1316 was quite eventful - unfortunately for all the wrong reasons. On Sunday 22nd February, during a parliamentary session in Lincoln cathedral, and in front of the king, the prelates, earls and barons there assembled, Hugh attacked and injured one John de Ros:

… striking him with his fist until he drew blood, and inflicted other outrages on him, in contempt of the lord king to the sum of £10,000, and to the harm of his peace, and the terror of the people present…

Violence in a sacred place (on a Sunday!) was bad enough but to commit such an act in front of the anointed ruler of England was extremely bad form, to say the least. Mind you, John de Ros wasn’t exactly an innocent bystander minding his own business either. To discover what led to this fracas, we need to go into a bit of background history.

Sir John de Ros, a younger son of Sir William de Ros of Helmsley in Yorkshire and Maud de Vaux, had married Margaret Goushill sometime before April 1314. Margaret had previously married Hugh’s younger brother, Philip sometime in 1311 and had borne one son (another Philip, what a surprise!). However, Philip (the father) died on 24th September 1313, leaving Margaret a young and rich (she was her father’s heiress) behind. The marriage to Ros was, therefore, carried out only seven months after her previous husband’s death - in what many would have considered to be rather indecent haste. Whatever the relationship between Hugh and his brother, Hugh must have seen this event in a rather negative light as it smacked of a lack of respect for Philip as an individual and the Despenser name generally.

But it wasn’t this that ‘officially’ caused Hugh’s violent display. According to the records Ros had recently arrested Ingelram de Berenger, one of Hugh’s men (although other sources say that Berenger was actually a retainer of his father’s). According to Hugh’s testimony he had gone to Ros to remonstrate with him about the treatment his man but then:

… the aforesaid John, scorning the words of the aforesaid Hugh, heaping outrageous insults on the same Hugh, taunted him with insolent words, and putting his hand to his knife he menaced the same Hugh and made a rush towards the said Hugh as if he wanted to strike him with his knife… The next piece is priceless! According to Hugh, he did not strike Ros, as alleged, but merely “stretched out his hand between himself and the aforementioned John, by which he touched the same John in this way on his face.”

This was, of course, in self-defence! In other words, Hugh claimed that Ros had run onto his fist! However, according to Ros, it was Hugh who struck him first (in the face) and he was forced to draw his sword in self-defence because he feared for his life. Obviously the two were separated before things got too out of hand and were hauled off to prison, later to be questioned by Gilbert of Touthby and Geoffrey le Scrope, acting for the king. Both were later released after several men swore to stand surety for them to appear before the king and his council at a later date.

The outcome was that both men were fined £10,000, basically for being in breach of the king’s peace. However, for Hugh this was later overturned at the January parliament in 1320 when he was officially pardoned by Edward and his part of the incident struck through in the official roll for that time. Interestingly, the entry for Ros’s statement is left intact, indicating that he was not pardoned - an example of the later power that Hugh had over Edward.

What really constituted the quarrel between Hugh and Ros will probably never be known, but it does seem odd that one man’s arrest could cause so much animosity. Maybe there was a bit of truth in both accounts (as well as examples of being economical with it). Maybe Hugh, already riled with Ros over the quick marriage to his late brother’s wife, saw the arrest of Berenger as another provocation. Maybe he did just intend to speak to Ros. Maybe Ros did throw in a few insults of his own. Who knows? All that can be certain is that in 1316 Hugh was rather a hothead, who, no doubt, caused endless worries for his father. It was just a hint of what was to come.

Sources:
The Parliamentary Rolls of Medieval England

Medieval Miscellany- 30th July 2008

Time for some medieval word definitions. This little lot come from a post on Alianore's blog"Edward II's Possessions, 1326" and form part of a list of items retrieved from Caerphilly castle in 1326 afterIsabella and Mortimer's invasion. Alianore wasn't sure what many of them meant either, so I thought I'd have a go! They all seem to be related to military clothing and equipment.


Aketon - no, not a Japanese martial art. This was a padded and quilted garment which was often the only armour possessed by foot soldiers. Knights also wore aketons under their armour, although in this case it was often sleeve-less. Also known as: acton; auqueton; gambeson; hacketon; haqueton; wambais; wambesium or wams.


Frettes - can't find a direct translation, but if it comes from the Anglo-Norman verb fretter (to fasten)then it possibly means some kind of fastening. On the other hand, a fret could also be a criss-cross ornamentation. In context of Alianore's post, where a pair of these are described as having 50 pewter eyelets I would hazard a guess towards something, maybe ornamental (or protective) that could be laced up in a criss-cross fashion.

Gisarme - a weapon carried by foot soldiers consisting of a blade on the end of a long staff.

Hauberk - long coat of mail worn over a gambeson. It was split up the middle front and back to make it easier to ride a horse. The sleeves could either be long, sometimes with a mail 'mitt' or else short.

Jazerant - a coat of linen upon which were attached small plates of metal - to be used as a form of body armour.

Pisan - probably the same as 'pizaine' or 'puzane' - a type of gorget or breastplate which could either be of steel or a jazerant. Common in 13th and 14th century warfare

Sutturre - again, difficult to come up with anything directly from this word. I do think, though, that it comes from the Latin to stitch or to bind. In the context of Alianore's post "4 sutturres, twisted, of red silk", I can only guess that these were some sort of special thread - maybe used as arming points to fasten plate armour to garments?

Ventail - the lower, moveable front of a helmet or else a mail coif that hung off the bottom of the helmet and protected the throat and neck.

Gasingale and Bidowes - I have absolutely no idea what these could be! I have searched everywhere and there is nothing even remotely close. Maybe someone out there will know?

The Monday Morsel 28th July 2008

A totally off-topic, extra-curricular weekly post which could be about anything!

This week:

Weston-Super-Mare Pier Fire

I woke this morning to the rather sad news that the pier at Weston-Super-Mare, between Bristol and Taunton, was burning. There will probably be many of you who have never heard of it - and probably don't care much about it either - but I, for one, have quite a few sentimental attachments to the old place.

First of all, Weston-Super-Mare - although about an hour away - is the nearest bit of sea-side to where I live, so it was really my local beach! Of course, those who do know it also know that it is rather a strange beach: it has a very shallow slope, so that when the tide is out you are really quite stretched to see any sea at all from the promenade - unless you are prepared to walk, that is! Nevertheless, it was where my parents took me when I was little and I spent many a happy hour making sandcastles and riding the donkeys and, of course, enjoying the attractions on the 100 year old pier. One of my earliest memories, in fact, is of walking along the wooden boardwalk and looking through the gaps at the sea below.


Just a year ago, I had to take my daughter to her friends in Devon. My mum came with me for the ride, and on the way back, as dusk fell, we stopped off in Weston-Super-Mare to eat fish and chips on the nearly deserted beach. As the darkness gathered, we were witnesses to a most beautiful sight: the lights along the pier lit up like fairy lights on a Christmas tree and reflected on the sea beneath (yes, the tide was in!). The effect was quite magical. I had hoped to go and do it again this summer but, seeing the footage of flames and smoke pouring into the sky, it seems that that won't be happening.

I truly hope that, even though the buildings on top have gone, the infrastructure of the piles and decking have survived enough for it to be rebuilt again so that future generations will be able to recall pleasant childhood memories of Weston, as I have.

Llywelyn Bren - Rebel With a Cause

Llywelyn Bren was most definitely a rebel with a cause. The son of Gryffydd ap Rhys he was the lord of Senghennydd and Meisgyn - both of which came under the overlordship of Glamorgan. Although from a family known for their rebellious nature against the English (his father had been an ally of Llywelyn ap Gryffydd), Bren had worked closely with the Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester and was one of his favoured officials. When de Clare was killed at Bannockburn in 1314, his estates were taken into crown hands and given over to custodians while the disputed inheritance between the earl’s ‘pregnant’ wife Maud and his sisters could be solved.

The custodians’ treatment of Bren and his family varied greatly. Bartholomew de Badlesmere, like de Clare was friendly enough towards Bren, but Payn de Turbeville of Coety acted more like the landlord from hell. In 1315 he removed Bren and his family from power and filled the vacancies with his own friends. His oppressive regime, especially in a time of famine, was guaranteed to spark discontent among the Welsh.

As lord of Senghennydd, Bren felt, rightly, that he had to make a stand for his people and threatened de Turbeville that he would do to him what the English lord had done to them (the Welsh). In return, de Turbeville accused him of treason against the crown. At the advice of his friends, Bren then went to the king of England in person to present his case, hoping that Edward would see his grievances and put things to rights again. However Edward, already burdened with other issues - including another quarrel in northern Wales, ignored his pleas and, rather callously, summoned him to appear before parliament in Lincoln early in January 1316 - to answer to the charge of treason. Fearing that his life was now in danger, Bren returned home instead and started to prepare to defend himself and his lands from the king’s wrath.

The rebellion started on the 28th January, the day after Bren had been summoned to be at Lincoln. The first target was Caerphilly Castle, where the constable was holding a court just outside the safety of its walls. Bren managed to capture the constable, kill some of his men and burn the town to the ground, but the castle itself remained - as ever - impregnable. He and his men then swept across Glamorgan, devastating the land and destroying any symbol of English domination.

Edward, perhaps fearing that this localised disturbance might spark off more widespread Welsh uprisings, put Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford in charge of raising a force capable of squashing the revolt as quickly as possible. Hereford gathered to him his Marcher neighbours, including Roger de Mortimer of Chirk and Roger de Mortimer of Wigmore, Thomas of Lancaster’s younger brother, Henry, and William Montagu. He was also joined by Edward’s new favourites Hugh Audley and Roger Damory - the husbands of Elizabeth and Margaret de Clare (Glamorgan was part of the de Clare lands). Strangely, the one man you’d expect to see liberating Glamorgan from the Welsh - Hugh Despenser the younger, was not present. Through his wife Eleanor, the other and eldest of the three de Clare heiresses, he stood to become lord of Glamorgan, therefore it is strange that he wasn’t part of de Bohun’s task force.

There are several possible reasons for this: throughout 1315/16 Hugh had been rather a naughty boy - taking Tonbridge Castle (although without much of a fight, it must be said) and attacking John de Ros before the king at the Lincoln parliament - for which he was imprisoned and fined. It is therefore possible that Hugh was either still in prison for this attack or else under other restrictions. It is also entirely feasible that de Bohun didn’t want such a young hothead with him on campaign. Or maybe Hugh just did not have the resources in terms of finance or retinue to take part.

The force arrayed before Bren was so formidable that he knew any further resistance was futile and fled into the hills. From there he offered to surrender as long as he was allowed to keep his life and lands. De Bohun, although sympathetic to a point, declared that any surrender had to be unconditional. Bren was now faced with a dilemma: should be fight on and risk a humiliating and bloody defeat or else surrender, as the earl of Hereford had demanded? In the end he chose the latter, allegedly saying that as he had been the cause of the fight in the first place, it was only right that he, and he alone should face the consequences: “For it is better that one man should die than that the whole race should be exiled or perish by the sword.” On 18th March, he and two of his sons came down from their base in the hills and subsequently surrendered themselves to de Bohun and Roger de Mortimer of Wigmore.

The two English lords had been impressed by Llywelyn’s bravery and chivalry. It is rumoured that on the way back to London, they got to know Bren well and became quite friendly with him. In fact they even pleaded his case before the king themselves, advising that his life should be spared. Evidently Edward listened and Bren was not executed but instead imprisoned in the Tower, along with his wife and five sons. Their lands were, of course, seized into crown hands but at least while he was still alive, Bren could always hope for some future pardon and reinstatement.

Things in Wales returned to the bad old days: de Turbeville returned for a short time and took a part in seizing Bren’s assets in Senghennydd - not just lands and cattle but also a large library of books - it seems that Bren had been quite a cultured man. In turn, de Turbeville was replaced by John Giffard who was much more sympathetic to Welsh interests (or at least in not stirring another rebellion). With things settling down in Glamorgan, many of the erstwhile rebels were pardoned and given their lands back - the future was starting to look a lot brighter for Bren and his family.

However, in November 1317, the story took another twist. The partition of the de Clare lands was eventually finalised and Hugh Despenser the younger became lord of Glamorgan. Sometime after July 1318, he took Bren from the Tower and transported him to Cardiff castle - allegedly without the king’s consent. There, in the late summer of that year, he had him hanged, drawn and quartered as a traitor. Although he had ostensibly acted against Edward’s wishes, Hugh did not seem to suffer any come back for his actions, indicating that either Edward didn’t care (Bren was rather a small fish in a big pond of other issues), that he may have sanctioned the move (but the records don’t exist) or that he was already too enamoured of Despenser to punish him for his misdeeds. Certainly there are no accounts in the close, patent or parliamentary rolls that mention any retaliation against Hugh for his presumption.

But what could have made Hugh act in such a rash, unjust and unwise manner? The first thing that springs to mind is Hugh’s greed for land. So many of the rebels had been pardoned already that it may have looked likely that Bren, would also be allowed back into the king’s peace and given his lands back. Although Hugh would have been his landlord, he would not have had so much profit from the lands as if he had owned them directly. Also, Bren had now proved himself to be a trouble-maker and perhaps Hugh did not want a known rebel around stirring up trouble every time he was perceived as being a bit harsh. With Bren executed as a traitor, Despenser could seize his estates, disinherit his family and at the same time make an example of Bren so that others would not be tempted to step out of line.

Of course, Mortimer and de Bohun were furious with his actions (although at the time Mortimer was in Ireland and couldn’t really do anything about it) and Despenser’s treatment of their former prisoner was to rear its head again later, when both of the Despensers were indicted in 1321. This is rather hypocritical talk though - especially from Mortimer who was known to be despised by his own Welsh tenants for his oppressive and harsh lordship. If Bren had rebelled in his lands, would he have been lenient? Probably not. Even so, Hugh’s actions had provided future ammunition for his enemies and had won him few friends among the Welsh - something which was to have unforeseen consequences in 1326 when he needed their support.

Sources:
Patent Rolls
Close Rolls
Parliamentary Rolls
Vita Edwardi Secundi
Thomas of Lancaster 1307-1322 - J.R. Maddicott
The Reign of Edward II: New Perspectives - ed. by Gwilym Dodd & Anthony Musson

A Writerly Life

Horses For Courses

I'm sure you've heard of actors who use 'method acting' - that is, they live, eat, sleep and breathe their subject so that they can portray him/her as accurately as possible using their own experiences, emotions etc. Well, I've come to the conclusion that I am a method writer.

But what has it to do with my Despenser books I hear you ask? Well, apart from visiting the sites where important things took place, I have also felt the need to soak up experiences which 14th century people would have been used to (or as near as I can get anyway).

Today was one such 'experience' day. I started to learn to ride horses.

Oh boy!

The creature that I was blessed with for my first lesson - someone obviously thought it funny to call him 'Shorty' - was, I have to admit, a wonderfully quiet Welsh cob. He was getting on a bit in years and to be honest there was the odd moment when I actually thought he was about to fall asleep on the hoof. A good introduction then. Well, yes - apart from the fact that I was still so terrified that he might take off any second that it was difficult to just sit back, relax and enjoy - especially when going down a steep slope.

I'm not just a wuss - honest! I have done a small bit of riding in the past and had a few nasty scares involving farm machinery and a horse that insisted on walking backwards. So I just sort of assume that any ride is going to be perilous. But Shorty was - for most of the time - a true gentleman. Apart from trying to scrape me off against a tree and doing a short, unexpected trot, his behaviour was impeccable. I was still glad to see the riding yard again after an hour though. Upon dismounting I then made the discovery of some muscles I didn't know I had - I shall probably be walking like John Wayne tomorrow.

Despite this, I shall be going back for another hack out next week on the basis that the more I do it, the less terrified I will be. Maybe after a couple of sessions I might try trotting (if I can figure out how to do it without holding on to the pommel for dear life!) and after that - at this rate probably next year - I may even be boasting of breaking into a canter.

I suppose the men and women of the 14th century who rode got used to the saddle from an early age; after all it was a prime form of transport and rather essential. Even so, I salute them - especially the knights who could ride those testy destriers. However, at nearly 42 years of age, I am content to suffer for my art in a less spectacular fashion - I don't think I will be doing any jousting just yet!

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I'm sure regular readers will already have noticed that I have changed the background template. I'm afraid the original one was starting to make me feel oppressed!! This one is so much lighter while still keeping the side menus on the left, where I like them!

An Award and some Scribery Redeployment

I am honoured to be the recipient of an 'Excellent Blog' award from Susan Higginbotham - someone who has been a constant support and aide in my research on Hugh. Thank you Susan - it means a lot to have the Scribery recognised. I'm supposed to now nominate other blogs which I think are excellent. The problem is, most of them have this award already (or have also just been nominated by Susan). So my other nominations are:


Scottish Scribbles Because Scottish history is often unrepresented and there are also wonderful pics on this site.
Women of History Because Melisende always manages to find some interesting topics to blog about.
Got Medieval Because as well as having some great information, it makes me laugh.
Tanzanite's Shelf and Stuff Because she does great book reviews with some interesting insights.

As for all the other ones which I think are so darn excellent and already have every award under the sun (Edward II, Reading Raving and Ranting by an Historical Fiction Writer, The Lost Fort and also The Yorkist Age) I shall have to get my head around devising an award just for them ;-)

And now to the Scribery - or more precisely, The Despensery. Once upon a time I had a most great and brilliant idea that I could run 2 blogs side by side - obviously I had had too much sugar that morning! It has turned out that the clerks I sent over to run the Despensery have been.. shall we say, lax to say the least: sleeping in late, spending all of their time at the tavern across the road playing at dice. Hence, most of the time they were too sozzled or lazy to think of anything funny whilst I was working my socks off on medieval research here.

Hence I have had to resort to some drastic measures in order to save my sanity. For a start I have cut down on my sugar intake so that I don't get any illusions of being superwomen. next, I have sacked the aforesaid (avantdit) clerks, apart from a couple who will be kept on at the Despensery to handle my fiction extracts. The Scribe's Den site - handling my non-medieval fiction and poetry - will remain unchanged.

So, what does this mean? It means that the Scribery will now also be handling lighter issues again as well as just academic ones (which will also mean a welcome break from serious stuff for all of us now and again). It will also give me more of a chance to go into the field, so to speak, to do more research instead of worrying about getting the next serious post up. So instead of just being informative, I hope that the Scribery will also be more fun too - and hopefully more people will join in on the comments (no need to worry about a lack of knowledge - an open mind and heart are all that are needed).

As mentioned above, the Despensery will remain as a depository for my Despenser fictional extracts and any other medieval fiction I feel like writing. Or any artwork I may manage on a blue moon! Hopefully this will be the last re-organisation (Yes, I actually think I'm getting the hang of this blog thing now!). There is still an 'official' Despenser website planned for the future, but this will be in construction while I concentrate my efforts on my writing and research.

If you have any helpful comments on what you'd like to see, please let me know. You can e-mail me at my e-mail address in the left side bar.

Tewkesbury Medieval Festival - Stalls and Entertainment

Stall and Entertainments

On Saturday evening, after the battle, the entertainment continued at the Abbey. There was a recreation of the storming of the abbey, trials and mock beheadings - which I unfortunately missed because I had to pop back to Gloucester to feed my dog. However, I did arrive back in time for the special candle-lit Compline service. There are no photos of this because I felt it would be disrespectful (although others didn't have the same ideals) but I can tell you that it was beautiful. For me, the special part was that the choir dressed as monks and sang plain chant - very evocative. One nice touch was having the names of deceased, past re-enactors read out, as a sort of memorial. In addition to the Compline service, a family eucharist was also carried out on the Bloody Meadow. I didn't attend but I'm sure it paid respect to those who died in 1471.

Later in the evening, in the vicarage garden, there was a pig roast and a 'fire theatre' by Theatre of Alchemy. This talented group of entertainers not only could juggle, fight and swallow fire in a York vs Lancaster themed 'play' but also engage in a very funny ad lib performance when we all arrived at the rope barrier half an hour early! By the way, I never want to hear 'Whose Pigs are These?' again - the darn song has been stuck in my head all week since that night!!






Theatre of Alchemy with firey-twirly things doing really clever stuff.








This is where the camera decided to get all artistic on us. By the way, this girl was fantastic - near the end of the show she was happily hula-hooping with a hoop that was on fire.








More artistic camera-work (!) - but that is someone juggling with fiery batons - honest! The lit up bit behind is a fire-work display saying '25' to celebrate the festival's 25th year.







A general view of the fair with some of the many stalls. There was a wide selection of re-enactor's goodies there from weaponry to shoes, armour to cooking pots, as well as the time-honoured 'alternative' stalls selling pagan jewellery and the like. I always see Tewkesbury fair as a cross between a medieval market and a new-age festival. In fact I did hear someone describe it as 'Glastonbury without the bands'. This was taken on the Sunday, which, as you can see, turned out to be hot and sunny.

Oh yes, and that blob in the sky is actually a Lancaster, departing from the Royal International Air Tattoo at Fairford which was sadly cancelled due to the ground being too wet.







Ye olde ducking stool! Despite repeated bribes from my mother and daughter, they were quite happy with their own wench to duck and didn't want a replacement!







Medieval music was everywhere and provided great background music to the event.








Is it me or does that eagle owl look hungry?







You have to look closely, but there is a small child asleep in that 'pram'. It was so cute that I couldn't resist a photo. It is also precisely the way I felt after 2 days of walking up and down the fields at Tewkesbury - in fact that child was in great danger of being turfed out!




I found this great video of Tewkesbury 2007 on You Tube It may be a year old but it still gives a much more animated idea of the event and includes interviews of re-enactors and stall holders. To be honest, when I first saw it, I thought it was of this year's battle - much is the same, including the stalls and entertainments! Actually, check out You Tube as new vids of this year are being added all the time.





Also, whilst browsing You Tube, I came across this short promotional video for Destrier. I really liked it, so I thought I would share it as my final offering on Tewkesbury Medieval festival 2008 posts.

Tewkesbury Medieval Festival - The Battle

The Battle


Both Saturday and Sunday saw the re-enactment of the Battle of Tewkesbury, fought originally on May 4th 1471. If you are interested in what actually took place, a brief account (including the names of the some of the nobility who fought) can be found on the Richard III site here (go to Wars of the Roses, then battles). The UK Battlefields Resource Centre also has some useful information on the battle here.

Running the event itself is a massive operation. All the groups and individuals involved should be really proud of what they've achieved over the years (this year was 25th anniversary). A special mention from me has to go out to the Plantagenet Medieval Society (my old re-enactment group - take a look at the low bandwidth option. There is a pic of me on the page - but I'm not saying which one!!) who played a huge part in the organisation of the battle.

Below are a few pics that hopefully give a flavour of the battle (taken on the Saturday):





A company of pike men take to the field from the Yorkist side of the arena looking rather mean and nasty.









The usual odd mix of armour and head gear at Tewkesbury. Is that guy middle left an ancestor of the person who invented American football?







The Yorkist archers loose a volley of arrows at the Lancastrian forces. Don't worry, they don't have pointy bits on the ends (or they shouldn't have, anyway). That doesn't stop you from getting a nasty bruise if you are hit by one though!









The battle in progress! This gives an idea of the numbers of re-enactors taking part - and the headache for the organisers in getting them all safety-checked (no sharp edges on weapons!). Making sure that each section was co-ordinated to move where and when it should was no mean feat either.

The ladies on the edges are supposed to be 'camp followers' but their main purpose was to provide water for any combatants who needed re-hydrating.








Man down! Although this one got up again, there were a few casualties who got carted off the field in ambulances. Considering the nature of the event and the numbers taking part, there are always going to be a small number of minor injuries. Luckily it is rare that anything more serious occurs.









Another shot of the close quarter battle. The smoke is from the cannons and muskets that fired off occasionally.










King Edward IV defeats prince Edward, son of Margaret of Anjou. In case you were wondering, the prince is on the floor and the king is the fellow on the right looking rather kingly! I don't know who the chap on the left is but he looks rather happy!










Hang on a minute... I know that coat of arms! Can it be.... can it really be....?









Yes. A Despenser at Tewkesbury battle!! On making further enquiries I discovered that it was actually Hugh the elder who had time-travelled from the 14th century with his own Lady D. and a few friends! Yes, I know that there probably weren't any Despensers at the original Tewkesbury (unless they weren't very well known) - but who cares. It was great to see that surcoat out there!

Tewkesbury Medieval Festival and Battle 2008

Part 1 - The Jousting

Having spent a wonderful weekend at Tewkesbury Medieval Festival and Battle, I thought I'd tell you all about it. Yes, I know that The Battle of Tewkesbury in 1471 is a bit in the future as far as this blog's concerned, but the re-enactment, apart from being the largest in the UK, is also a fantastic event. It deserves as much support as it can get as it survives only on the money it makes from car parking, stallholders and donations. If it can't make a profit, then it can't be staged, and if it can't be staged then there is a real possibility that developers will buy up the battle field and plaster new houses and supermarkets all over it (despite being in a flood plain!!!).

Also, I know that several of you would have liked to have been there, so, as a poor substitute, here's the write up and a few pics (spread over the next 3 posts because otherwise you'll get photo-fatigue). I would like to say a big thank you to mum who took the photos (she had a shake proof camera - vital for taking pics over the heads of the crowd at times!).

On both days, there was a joust, by the very entertaining and professional jousting group DESTRIER. Despite some microphone problems and a heavy shower on the Saturday, they performed like troopers. I dread to think how long it must have taken to dry some of the ladies' dresses out (and here I speak from personal experience from when I did re-enactment!). On the Saturday, the group started out with some hunting games and horseback/weaponry skills - which the women joined in with as well.

You'll note from the pictures that the women are riding astride, not side-saddle as you might expect. This is not an anachronism: women did ride in this way through the middle ages, keeping their dignity by having skirts that covered both their legs and the rumps of their mounts. Side saddles were known - and used, especially after 1382 when Anne of Bohemia, Richard II's wife made them fashionable - however, I'm sure that riding in that position must have been harder and more uncomfortable, especially when hunting. As the centuries progressed it became less and less acceptable for women to ride astride and by the 16th century it was thought improper for ladies to ride in any way other than side-saddle.



(double click on the photos to get a larger and clearer picture)


The hunting games consisted of running at rings with a lance and trying to collect as many as possible, and also hitting a target with a javelin dart (the target being either an archery-type one or else a 'boar'). However, the one I enjoyed most was the cabbages on sticks. Here the 'hunters' had to ride at the cabbages with a sword and chop them in half. Personally, I thought it was a very useful way of chopping up the veg for dinner later!




The next part of the entertainment was the joust itself. For a history of the joust as well as lots of other information on the sport, have a look at Destrier's two web sites (links at the bottom of the post). For the Tewkesbury joust, the knights were split into two teams - one representing the House of Lancaster and the other representing the House of York. One knight from each side then rode at each other down the line of the tilt barrier, hoping to deliver a good strike, preferably on the breast plate.





Real wooden lances were used (although tipped with balsa wood so as not to cause serious injury) and the sight and sound of them splintering against metal was breathtaking.
The crowd cheered for each side (Lancaster or York) when prompted, although in my opinion they could have been a bit more enthusiastic (perhaps it was the rain dampening spirits). At the end of all the individual passes, the two knights with the highest score were then chosen to partake in the 'final' in order to decide both the champion and the winning side.




For those who are interested in armour (like me), here are some closer shots of two of the knights. As you can see, they really look the part.





And just before the last shot of a knight on horseback, I'd also like to say how well-behaved the horses were (courtesy of Atkinson Action Horses) - even if one had a habit of turning his back to the tilt barrier just before he was about to make a pass! Considering all the distractions of the crowd, clanking armour, shouting and splintering lances, they were impeccable, and, most of all, wonderful to watch in action. I have seen a few jousts by other groups, but I have to say that Destrier's enthusiastic and expert approach to this ancient art puts them head and shoulders above the rest.




If you want to find out more about Destrier or jousting in general, have a look at their websites: http://www.destrier.org.uk/history.html and http://www.destrierpro.org
or even better - if you are in the UK and anywhere near one of their events, go and see for yourself!

Aftermath

I’m afraid I’ve left you all waiting for this one - apologies. I have been a bit tied up negotiating some other writing work (which will help to finance more research for this one!) as well as having two glorious days away from the computer at Tewkesbury Medieval Festival (review and pics in the next post - just sorting through the 300 odd photos now!!!).

Anyway, here is what happened after Hugh’s execution at Hereford in November 1326. Although there is also stuff that could be written about what happened to his followers and his treasure, I shall just concentrate on his family for this one. Otherwise we will be into book-length posts again!

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Hugh Despenser the Younger’s disgrace and execution was just the start of years of desperation and sorrow for his family. Many of his followers, too, faced an uncertain future under the new regime headed by Roger Mortimer and Queen Isabella of France. Stripped of his protection and favour, they were now at the mercy of a victorious and vengeful leadership. It was his family however, who were to suffer the most.

At the time of his death Hugh had four sons and five daughters aged from about 16 to a babe in arms. He had left his wife, Eleanor, in charge of the Tower of London. With her, in her charge was Edward and Isabella’s second son, John of Eltham (aged about 10). When the Tower fell to the London mob on November 17th, John was ‘rescued’ by those loyal to the queen and Eleanor and some of her children imprisoned. Two weeks or so later she would have been told of her husband’s capture and execution and the downfall of the king. She must have known that her family’s cause was lost, but even she would not have been able to predict some of the outcomes for her children.

Hugh III, the eldest son, was still besieged at Caerphilly Castle - a well-supplied and virtually impregnable fortress that could hold out for months if necessary. One of his commanders was the experienced and loyal Sir John Felton, the man who was eventually to save his life. Of course, there was no way that they could stay there forever, but on the other hand the siege was becoming costly - in time, money and manpower to Isabella and Mortimer, who wanted it ended as quickly as possible.

Meanwhile, Isabella turned her attention to other members of the Despenser brood - and some of the most vulnerable. On 1st January 1327, she issued an order to the prior of Watton Priory in Yorkshire that Margaret Despenser, who was only about four or five at the time, was to be admitted to the convent and veiled ‘without delay, to remain for ever under the order’. In other words she was forced to become a nun. Margaret had been living, for the past three years, in the care of Thomas de Houk, a nobleman with manors in Yorkshire, along with her nurse and a great household. This was not unusual: it was quite common for children (both boys and girls) of the aristocracy to be brought up in other households at that time and was in no way indicative of the feelings of the parents towards them. So, even though Margaret was probably not with her mother at the time of her veiling, she was still dragged away from all that had been safe and familiar to her in her life - a very frightening experience for one so young.

A similar order was also issued for Eleanor Despenser, who was round about seven years old. She was also most probably living in some other household although, unlike Margaret, I cannot find any record for it. She had already been betrothed to the young Laurence Hastings, heir to the earldom of Pembroke, but this wasn’t enough to stop her becoming veiled for the rest of her life. Isabella then arranged for little Laurence to marry a daughter of her lover and co-conspirator, Roger Mortimer instead. Eleanor wasn’t even sent to the same convent as her sister, where they could at least have been a little comfort to each other. Instead she was sent to Sempringham, in Lincolnshire. Both Watton and Sempringham were of the native Gilbertine order - a very strict Cistercian-like order who observed codes of silence and austerity. Having come from such a comfortable and well off existence it must have been a big shock to both girls to find themselves in such an environment.

An older sister, Joan (aged about 10), also became a nun around this time, although no order for her veiling can be found (as yet). Joan also entered a different convent - this time the Benedictine order’s Shaftesbury Abbey in Dorset. Joan had already been betrothed to the son of the earl of Kildare in 1323 but he very inconveniently died a year or so later. Although it is not impossible that she then found she had a calling and insisted on becoming a nun, it is highly unlikely that Hugh and Eleanor would have allowed it, especially at such a young age, and especially when another earl or first born son could be found to strengthen family ties further. That she was veiled (most likely forcibly as with her sisters) in a southern nunnery also indicates that she was also probably living in another household - local to Shaftesbury or thereabouts.

That these young girls were not with their mother or even with each other at the time still does not excuse that this was a cruel thing to do. It was also completely un-necessary. These girls were no threat to Isabella either at the time or in the future. They would not have been heiresses and their marriages could have been arranged carefully by whoever was in power - so why did Isabella do it? Maybe it was because they were the softest targets for her to go after (although Eleanor’s youngest sons were not forced to become monks) and she didn’t want the state to have the burden of caring for them. Or, most likely, it was out of spite towards Eleanor, Hugh’s wife - who had had the care of some of her children when they were removed from her in 1324.

Some apologists for Isabella - noticeably Alison Weir, in her Isabella biography - conveniently gloss over this event. In particular, Weir states, erroneously, that, " Despenser's five daughters were placed in convents, while their mother was in the Tower; three later became nuns...". This is completely disproved by the entries extant in the Close Rolls and seems to imply that their veiling was, not only for their own good, but also out of choice!

Such forced veiling was not at all common. Yes, wives and daughters of those considered enemies of the state were often sent to convents as a form of imprisonment, but they were not forced to take holy orders which would have chained them there forever. More often than not they were later released - an option no longer for Despenser’s daughters, no matter how the political climate changed. The only other case that can be compared to theirs is that of Gwenllian - the daughter of the Welsh Prince and rebel against Edward I, Llywelyn Gryffydd. She was also sent to Sempringham priory as a baby after her father’s defeat and death and remained there for the rest of her life. Indeed she was still alive when Eleanor was taken there and it is tempting to speculate that they met. After Edward II’s triumph at Boroughbridge, he ordered, amongst many others, Mortimer’s wife and daughters to be sent to various convents - but they were never forcibly veiled and they were released after a while.

The boys, on the other hand - except for Hugh - emerged relatively unscathed. Of Edward, Hugh’s second son, history is strangely silent. Aged between 11 and 16 in 1326, he would also have been living in another household, either as a page or a squire. He certainly does not seem to have been imprisoned in any way so maybe whoever was responsible for him either hid him or else sent him to safety abroad. The two younger sons, John (age unknown but probably under 8) and Gilbert, approximately 6 or 7 years old were the children that, most likely, were with Eleanor in the Tower. In addition to them was Elizabeth, the youngest, but at the time she would either have still been in the womb or a very tiny baby. These three children seem to have been left alone and as far as I know, stayed with their mother. The eldest daughter, Isabella -aged about 14 at the time - also managed to escape the fate of her younger sisters. This was because she was already married to Richard Fitzalan, son of the recently beheaded earl of Arundel. Unfortunately though, this would turn out to be a very unhappy coupling and she was later repudiated and her children by him declared illegitimate.

In the meantime, the siege at Caerphilly continued until 20th March 1327 when John Felton managed to negotiate a surrender on condition that Despenser’s son’s life was spared and that he and the rest of the men there received a pardon for their actions. This was granted. Hugh III was duly imprisoned - it seems under the care of Roger Mortimer (!) - but at least he would not suffer the same fate as his father. In fact, Edward III, in December 1328, ordered Mortimer to turn Hugh over to him, to be kept at Bristol. Maybe he was wary of allowing Mortimer such power over the son of a former enemy - after all, it would have been easy for Mortimer to have arranged an ‘accidental’ death somewhere along the way. Given that Edward released Hugh III very soon after his coup against Mortimer and his mother and that Hugh later became one of his trusted men, it is tempting to think that these men already had some link of friendship - maybe forged as children when they must have known each other.

Eleanor and her younger children were released from the Tower on February 25th 1328. It must have been a relief in more ways than one for her captor at the time was none other than Thomas Wake - one of the men who had captured and executed her husband. The lands that belonged to her by inheritance were also returned to her and she retired to live at HanleyCastle in Worcestershire. Not that her story ends there though for very soon she was to be abducted and married and then imprisoned again. But that can wait for another post! Suffice it to say, after Edward came to full power in 1330, he allowed her to collect Hugh Despenser’s remains and finally inter them in a fine tomb in Tewkesbury Abbey.

Sources:
Close Rolls
Isabella, She Wolf of France and England - Alison Weir
And big thanks to Alianore for our long discussions on this subject.

Hanging, Drawing and Quartering: the Anatomy of an Execution

I found this an incredibly hard post to write - not just because of its length but also the amount of research into the act of execution. This led me on a very gruesome and depressing journey at times, but I felt it was important to detail what happened at a hanging, drawing and quartering rather than just gloss over it - as many books do. Sometimes I don’t think readers are aware of the full horror of this form of punishment - as well as its implications for family honour and spiritual salvation.

However, because of the nature of this piece I feel that I must issue a warning:

SOME GRUESOME DETAILS CONTAINED - NOT FOR SENSITIVE SOULS!!!

And for those who do read on… don’t have nightmares!


Hanging, Drawing and Quartering: Anatomy of an Execution

Hanging, drawing and quartering, at its most simple, could be seen as a means to an end: a way of producing the most bloody and visible death possible. And yet, under that first simplistic layer, there are other interpretations which throw a little more light onto the importance of the various acts. It must be remembered that the people of the 14th century were immersed, through the dominance of the church, in a culture of symbolism and ritual: for example, the practice of heraldic display included much symbolism that was tied up with rank and status. The whole process of hanging, drawing and quartering was to remove the criminal’s status and identity bit by bit until there was nothing left.

With relation to Despenser, this had started even before his ‘trial’. He was removed from his horse and, without doubt, disarmed, taking away two of the most important symbols of knighthood (horse and sword). That he was then tied onto a skinny nag further emphasized his fall from the higher ruling order as well as the loss of his freedom. Stripping him of his finery, too, stripped him of another layer of his rank, whilst forcing him to wear a surcoat with his arms reversed, showed that he was no longer deserving of bearing a coat of arms - a potent symbol of identification and family honour. Finally, the crown of nettles placed on his head was, maybe a mocking parody of his baron’s coronet, or even perhaps a dig at his pretensions to rule England. For the full story, see this post here.

Such visual signs of his powerlessness would not have been lost on the crowds that came to see him arrive in Hereford. A man who had previously had complete authority over them was now helpless to their screams, taunts, missiles and the blare of horns and trumpets that accompanied him to judgement. As an object for the people’s wrath, he became a scapegoat for all and any misdeeds that had befallen them - whether at Despenser’s hands or not. This united hostility of the masses therefore made it easier for Isabella and Mortimer to execute him without the king’s consent - after all, who was going to protest? The rest of his sentence can be interpreted as follows (for a less detailed account of the execution, go to this post):

Drawing
The sentence of being ‘drawn’ is perhaps the one that causes most confusion as to its meaning. There are two basic definitions: that of being drawn or dragged to the place of execution (usually by horses and on a hurdle) or of being cut open and disembowelled. Most hanging victims were drawn to the place of their execution anyway, so I feel it would be a little odd to emphasize this as part of the punishment. Also, the term ‘drawn’ is usually placed after ‘hanged’, implying that the actions also took place in that order (it wouldn’t make sense the other way around). So, in my opinion, whenever you see the sentence as ‘Hanged, drawn and quartered’, the meaning is of being eviscerated. However, there are also examples (much later in history) of the sentence being given as ‘Drawn, Hanged and quartered’, in which case, I think the alternative definition is meant.

Hanging
Hanging was a sentence usually meted out to common thieves in the middle ages. Hugh’s sentence of hanging was most likely because of his acquiring lands by often dishonourable and underhand methods. The hanging process at that time was of the ‘short drop’ - in other words the victim only fell a short way - not enough to break their neck or cause a quick death.

Those sentenced to hang were often made to stand on the back of a cart, a stool or a ladder and the noose was placed around their neck. The cart/stool/ladder was then removed and the noose tightened around the victim’s neck, under their own weight, especially if they struggled (which of course, they did). Death was either caused by asphyxiation or else the cutting off of blood to the brain via the pressure of the rope on the carotid arteries. In either case the hanged person might remain conscious for a few seconds or a few minutes, depending on the noose and the way they dropped. Although this does not sound a lot, it must have felt like an eternity. When semi-consciousness was reached, the body would start to spasm and all control would be lost over the bowel and bladder - in some cases men were also known to ejaculate. If the victim was to be hanged until dead, the person could be left for up to an hour before it could be certain that all life signs had been extinguished. By this point the face would also be blue, the tongue and eyes swollen and protruding.

However, in Hugh’s case he was cut down as he reached the semi-conscious (semi-vivus) stage in order to be revived for the next part of the execution. Most probably, due to his starved and dehydrated state, he would not have soiled himself, thus at least sparing one humiliation.

I have been trying to picture what a 50-foot high gallows would have looked like. It must have been a great building feat in order for it to be stable. The cross beam that Hugh was hung on might not have been that far off the platform itself (if there was one), and the whole apparatus was reached probably by a ladder. Or maybe it was built against one of the buildings in the market place - which would give the structure more stability. Although some chronicles have said that the fire was on the ground in the marketplace, under the gallows, I suspect that it was more likely to be lit in some sort of cauldron on the platform itself. That way, the burning of Hugh’s entrails would have been easier to accomplish and could have been done in front of him, as was common.

Emasculation
After the noose had been removed from Hugh’s neck, he was tied to a ladder - or maybe a table for the next part of the punishment. Note - Froissart says that he was tied to a ladder and that the executioner climbed a ladder next to him to do the deed (see picture in this post). In practical terms that would be rather tricky (and we know Froissart wasn’t given to being reliable with the facts). On the other hand, after being hung so high, it is unlikely that the rest of the sentence would be carried out where the crowd couldn’t see it. I suspect that there was some sort of ladder type frame that Hugh was fastened to on the gallows platform. Then he would have been brought back to consciousness either by a few slaps or by having cold water thrown on him.

Two records - Froissart and a manuscript held at Cambridge (Cambridge Trinity College R.5.41, f. 123v) are the only accounts that say that Despenser was castrated - a grisly flourish not mentioned in his original sentence. Although Froissart can generally be dismissed when it comes to providing a true account, on this occasion it does seem very plausible that this happened. Froissart claims that Hugh was emasculated because he was a ‘heretic and a sodomite’, and indeed, castration was one of the penalties for anything regarded then as ‘un-natural’ sexual practice (heterosexual as well as homosexual - even using different sexual positions could be regarded as un-natural). However, it would be rash to assume that this is the only interpretation of the act. Castration had also been used at previous executions where there was no intention to punish for sexual deviancy.

Actually it was more commonly a symbol of taking away the victim’s claim to masculinity and power (thereby placing him in a female ‘passive’ role) and was also sometimes seen as metaphorically ending his line and name. Another famous example of castration was Simon de Montfort, who, after being killed at the battle of Evesham in 1265, was beheaded, castrated and quartered by the king’s knights. In their eyes, de Montfort had been a traitor and thus deserved the full range of ‘deaths’ reserved for such a crime, including that of symbolically taking away his masculinity and the means by which he procreated his lineage.

Disembowelling
Hugh was sentenced to be disembowelled because he had ‘procured discord between our lord the king and our very honourable lady the queen, and between other people of the realm’ ( TheGreatest Traitor, Ian Mortimer, p.162). Many medieval scholars believed that once a man was corrupt, then that corruption dwelt in his heart and bowels. The heart was also associated with love and passion, so quite possibly the message that was being sent out here was that Despenser’s notions of love for his king - both in the sense of as a subject and as a lover, were corrupt and corrupting - especially to the king’s marriage. Le Bel and Froissart saw it as the place where he contrived his evil schemes. By cutting him open and pulling out his heart and entrails, his corruption was therefore being made visible to the crowd. When they were then thrown into the fire before him, it was so that the corruption could be both destroyed and purified in his sight. In other words it was a rather extreme exorcism of the evil considered to reside within him. It was also, most possibly the last thing he saw.

Beheading
Despenser was beheaded for returning from exile illegally. In other words, his actions made him an outlaw. The head traditionally is the seat of knowledge, honour and is the part which directs the person’s actions. In other words, it is the seat of control as is seen in common expressions such as ‘head of the family’ or ‘head of state’. In a famous inflammatory sermon against Edward II (although later he swore it was actually about Despenser), Bishop Stratford started by saying: ‘My head is sick’, using allegory to infer that if the head of the country (i.e. the king) was weak, then so would be the governance over the people. The solution was to remove the head.

Therefore the action of beheading could be seen symbolically as removing that which is sick or corrupt (as with the entrails) and putting an end to its influence on all around it. The head, an important symbol since Celtic times, was then placed on a pike and sent to London, where it would be paraded up and down to the usual accompaniment of horns and drums before being placed on London Bridge like a macabre trophy of good triumphing against evil.

Quartering
The final act of the assault upon Despenser’s body was that of quartering. His body was hacked into four pieces, each to be displayed in a different town in England.

The integrity of the body at death was very important during the middle ages. It was considered that, at the Last Judgement, the soul would become reunited with the physical remains again and would rise from the dead. Therefore, to have one’s corporeal parts scattered about the country was tantamount to being denied a chance of salvation in the afterlife. It was probably because of this belief that Piers Gaveston’s head was sewn back onto his body again after his beheading at Blacklow Hill.

So, for state criminals such as Despenser, physical obliteration was not enough - they needed to be spiritually obliterated as well. Only then could justice be seen to have been done; only then could it be said that the corrupting influence had been totally and utterly destroyed.

Summary
Although such public and extraordinary executions as Hugh Despenser’s were treated by the watching crowd as an excuse for celebration and festival, in reality the bloody excesses were steeped in the symbolism of church and state. The whole process of humiliation, judgement and execution was designed to ritually strip away all ‘nobility’, title, dignity, power, name and even bodily integrity, so that at the end the individual who used to be known as Sir Hugh Despenser, Lord of Glamorgan ceased to exist - both physically and spiritually. In utterly destroying a person who was seen as an enemy of the established order and ideals of ‘nobility’, the whole community was also cleansed of taint. And yet the traitor’s deeds were not to be forgotten: the mutilated remains on display served as a reminder that even the greatest among them could fall if certain lines were crossed and rules transgressed.

Sources:

‘Deconstructing Identities on the Scaffold: the Execution of Hugh Despenser the Younger, 1326’, Danielle Westerhof, Journal of Medieval History 33 (2007) 87-106 (really recommended for a deeper look into the symbolism behind aristocratic execution)

The Greatest Traitor - Ian Mortimer, Pimlico, 2004

Edward II - Roy Martin Haines, McGill-Queens University Press, 2006

Chronicles - Froissart, translated by Geoffrey Brereton, Penguin Classics, 1978

Several online articles about the medical effects of hanging.