Time for a Meme!

I first saw this meme over at Gabriele's Lost Fort, although Susan Higginbotham has also taken up the challenge, so I hope you'll go and have a look at those too.

Here it is:
Choose ten of your characters, then answer the questions. For best results, put names in a hat and number them at random.

My characters all existed and will be in the Despenser novel, however, this is a very, very, very alternative history.

• 1. Lady Baret (see this post)
• 2. Piers Gaveston
• 3. Isabella, Queen of England
• 4. Alice de Lacy (unwilling wife of Thomas, earl of Lancaster)
• 5. Roger Mortimer of Wigmore
• 6. Eleanor de Clare
• 7. Edward II
• 8. Hugh Despenser (the younger)
• 9. Hugh Despenser the Elder
• 10. William de Braose, baron of Gower

4 invites 3 and 8 to dinner at their house. What happens?

Alice de Lacy, bored of her own company at Pickering Castle decides to have a bit of fun and so decides to invite Hugh and Isabella to dinner, knowing that they cannot stand the sight of each other. True to form, Hugh steals Isabella’s bread roll and takes away her icecream sundae. Whereupon, Isabella, feeling her dignity insulted, runs out of the room and refuses to come back until Despenser is removed.

9 tries to get 5 to go to a strip club. What happens?

At first the ever virtuous (and manly) Mortimer refuses as it is an unheard of thing for a Mortimer to go out partying with a Despenser without an undertaker being involved. But no, in the interests of love, peace and harmony, he agrees – reluctantly of course.
And so started Roger Mortimer’s hereto unknown addiction to strippers and dancing girls – much to his wife Joan’s dismay (as he bought her pole-dancing lessons for her birthday).

You need to stay at a friend's house for a night. Who do you choose: 1 or 6?

Oh definitely 6! There is a rumour that Lady Baret may receive a ‘visit’ from some mysterious black-clad evil henchmen who want to break her arms and legs and drive her mad. That could get a bit noisy when you are trying to get some sleep. No, Eleanor’s is a much better bet – and besides, Hugh might be there too ☺

2 and 7 are making out. 10 walks in. What is their reaction?

Oh my! The Lord of Gower catches Ed and Piers ‘at it’? Actually it doesn’t matter because William was probably drunk anyway and won’t even remember it.

3 falls in love with 6. 8 is jealous. What happens?

Obviously this was the catalyst for Hugh making a play for Ed. It was really a revenge move, designed to get Eleanor jealous and annoy the hell out of Isabella! Nothing to do with a power play on his part at all.

4 jumps you in a dark alleyway. Who comes to your rescue: 10, 2, or 7?

Oh dear, the scary Alice de Lacy (although it could have been worse – her husband Thomas earl of Lancaster for instance)! But, oh my, can’t I have both 2 and 7? Piers and Ed? Haven’t you heard of two for the price of one?

1 decides to start a cooking show. Fifteen minutes later, what is happening?

Black-clad evil henchmen burst in on the set, burn her cakes (wait a minute, wasn’t that Alfred the Great?), put too much salt in the vegetables and set fire to her steak au poivre. Then she goes mad. Hugh is blamed of course.

3 has to marry either 8, 4, or 9. Whom do they choose?

None of them. Isabella, the Great Victim, is already married to a misogynist, cruel, tightwad husband and so she runs away to France, refusing to return until Hugh is removed (both of them).

7 kidnaps 2 and demands something from 5 for 2's release. What is it?

Absolutely nothing. If Ed has Piers tied up in a dungeon somewhere then you can be sure that everyone is a consenting party. However, this question could make sense if for some strange reason Roger was there too and held the key to Piers’ fluffy handcuffs. God, this sounds like a bad dream!

Everyone gangs up on 3. Does 3 have a chance in hell?

The Great Victim will, of course, be rescued by the manly Mortimer and they become the Great Romance of the time. Because God (and love) is on their side, they invade England, kill both of the evil Despensers (and various black-clad evil henchmen), imprison, depose and later (possibly) kill her unmanly, cruel husband before living happily ever after. Well, for at least another three years. Oh yes, and strip clubs get a tax break.


Everyone is invited to 2 and 10's wedding except for 8. How do they react?

Easy. Hugh invades Gower. Any excuse.

Why is 6 afraid of 7?

I can’t really see that Eleanor would be afraid of her uncle – unless she really hates being given money, sweets and birds in cages as presents. There again, this could be referring to when she was 10 and uncle Ed jumped out on her at Halloween wearing a ‘scream’ mask.

1 arrives late for 2 and 10's wedding. What happens, and why were they late?

This really is an alternative universe, isn’t it? Lady Baret was half an hour late because there was a huge queue in ER before she was seen, and then there were all those X-rays for broken limbs… Anyway, she finally got there in her brand new wedding outfit and then the evil henchmen dressed in black turned up again and stole her hat and threw red wine over her dress. Which made her mad. Of course, Hugh must have been to blame.

5 and 9 get roaring drunk and end up at your house. What happens?

They raid the fridge, hog the TV and keep slurring that they love each other before launching into football songs. Hugh the Elder then falls asleep on the sofa while Mortimer tries his luck and I end up throwing him out. He goes off to find another strip club.

9 murders 2's best friend. What does 2 do to get back at them?

Well, first of all, Ed’s rather put out that he wasn’t Piers’ best friend and so goes off to the fens to dig a few ditches in spite. Meanwhile, it turns out that the best friend actually wasn’t at all – just a hanger on that Piers had got tired of. So Hugh the elder had done him a favour. They both go out to a strip club, meet up with Mortimer and then all arrive at my house roaring drunk. However, this time I throw Hugh the elder and Mortimer out almost immediately thereby having Piers all to myself! Lucky me!

6 and 1 are in mortal peril and only one of them can survive. Does 6 save themself or 1?

The mortal peril can only be the black-clad evil henchmen that seem to be stalking Lady Baret – therefore she is beyond saving anyway. So Eleanor wasn’t the target, and even if she was, she’d have still left Lady Baret in the lurch – matter of rank ;-)

8 and 3 go camping. For some reason they forgot to bring along any food. What do they do?

Hugh orders in a five meat pizza but refuses to give any to Isabella who blames him for the lack of food. He takes away her tent, thereby forcing her to camp in ‘straightened’ circumstances. She runs away and refuses to return until Hugh is removed, a 5 star hotel is built and a top French chef brought in to cook for her.

5 is in a chariot crash and is critically injured. What does 9 do?

Chariot? May have to alter that to ‘fell off his horse’. Despenser the elder, ever the generous courtier, smuggles in a case of wine to the hospital and arranges for a bevy of lap dancers to entertain Mortimer, one of whom looks strangely like Isabella in a sequinned thong! Mortimer makes a speedy recovery and starts to see the queen in a different light. The rest, as they say, is history.

Out of the Ark

Yesterday I took a day out to visit Anne Hathaway's Cottage in Stratford-Upon-Avon, Warwickshire: it was part of a birthday treat for my mum - although it was a treat for me too of course!



What has all this to do with either Hugh or the 14th Century I hear you cry? After all, Shakespeare was more than a good couple of centuries later. Well, yes, OK, that's true enough - but some things that still exist from Shakespeare's time can still show a glimpse of life in earlier times. Certainly when it comes to practical, everyday objects that no longer exist from two centuries earlier but must still have been used in some form. After all, things a few hundred centuries ago did not tend to change as rapidly as in post industrial-revolution times.

Hence, at the cottage (and thanks to the wonderful and knowledgeable woman guide we had there), I discovered something that I had not heard of previously, and, presuming that (hopefully, otherwise I'll look an idiot), I am not the last to know this piece of information, I thought I'd share it.

In the kitchen was something that looked like a very robust sideboard with a lid that looked a bit like an up-turned trough. It wasn't in any way decorative and so was not a high status type of furniture that was meant to be on show. Upon noticing my interest in it, the guide told me what it was: an ark.





Now, if you're like me, the name 'ark' makes you think of Noah, a rather large boat, a lot of water and animals going in two by two. Or alternatively 'the Ark of the Covenant' - a rather mysterious but holy box that also popped up in an Indiana Jones film. In any case, an 'ark' was an important biblical object and certainly not what you'd expect to find in an Elizabethan (or earlier) kitchen! Of course, on getting home, I did some research and discovered that 'ark' actually means a chest or box (even a coffin) that protects something. So it seems that the odd one out of all of our arks was Noah's - the name being a metaphor for his ship safeguarding the life on earth from the Flood.

Anyway, back to the ark in the kitchen. This was in fact, I was informed, a flour ark. It was used to store flour for the daily bread making - and bear in mind that in a farmhouse, with a large family and a workforce, alot of bread would have been baked each day. The lid, which was not attached to the body of the ark in any way, would have been lifted off, turned over, and used in the breadmaking process, i.e. the mixing and kneading. The height of the ark, with the lid used in such a way would have been perfect for the task.

The body of the ark was, as the guide informed us, the original 'flat-pack' furniture. Held together by removable pegs, the whole thing could be taken apart to be cleaned - something that would have been essential in the storage of something so easily spoiled as flour. Of course, at this point it occurred to me that, just as the Elizabethan household would have had a need for mass bread making, so would the Medieval household. Could they have used something similar? The guide seemed certain of it.

On coming home, I immediately sat down to some online research. It wasn't as easy to find out about Medieval arks as I thought it would be - probably because few, if any, exist from that time. I did, however, find an entry in a book called Conservation of Furniture*, which states that the chest was 'arguably the most important piece of Medieval furniture', and then goes on to list the types of chests, among which was an:

Ark chest (thirteenth to eighteenth century). These were a variation of the clamped front forms that were usually, but not exclusively, used for the storage of grain or bread. The lid was not originally hinged or fixed to the base. This allowed the lid to be removed and used as a kneading trough or handbarrow.

On another site I found a reconstruction of the above chest, pictured below:



It is different from the one in Anne Hathaway's kitchen in that it is much smaller and the restraining pegs are in different places, but the principle is the same. Interestingly, the author doubts that flour could have been kept in large flour chests as it would spoil too easily. Instead he speculates that the chests held grain instead. Although he does have a point about flour spoilage, as I have said above, it would have been used up pretty quickly in such households in earlier periods due to the importance of daily bread. Also, grain was generally not milled in the kitchen but at mills, so what would have been the point in storing grain, only to have to have it taken away again to the mill before it could be used? Also, with the advantage of being able to regularly take apart and clean the wood, flour would not have spoiled or accumulated pests.

Anyway, that is all that I can find on this piece of furniture for now. If anyone knows any more or has pictures of other examples, please let me know.

* Conservation of Furniture, Shayne Rivers, Nick Umney, (Butterworth-Heinemann, 2003), p.7 (available on Google Books)

Hugh Despenser Goes AWOL (Abroad Without Leave)

In the Calendar of Chancery Warrants there is an intriguing entry for January 9th 1310 that reads:

Mandate to command the escheator on this side of Trent, if he find that Sir Hugh le Despenser, the son, has passed beyond the seas contrary to the king’s prohibition of such passage by an earl, baron, knight or other man of arms, without special licence, to seize his lands and goods into the king’s hand and answer for the issues at the Exchequer until further order. (1)

The aforementioned prohibition was issued in order to stop vital personnel from absconding to tourney on the continent in case Edward needed them at short notice for battle against the Scots. He had already banned such displays in England, mainly because they tended to be a breeding ground for anti-royalist plots and conspiracies (or, more accurately anti-Gaveston conspiracies), as the last English tournament at Dunstable in 1309 had proved.

It does seem though, that prior to mandate of January 1320, that Edward was certainly aware that his original order was about to be disobeyed, as on December 31st 1309, he sent out an order to all of the wardens of the various ports around the country to:

… not permit any earl, baron, knight, or other man at arms to pass the seas to tourney or do other feats of arms, or anything else, without the king’s special order, according to the order lately issued, as the king understands that some persons purpose to go to parts beyond the sea to tourney or do other feats of arms there. (2)

From later entries in official documents (see below), it became certain that Hugh did, indeed, go ‘beyond the seas’ – although where and why – despite the mention of tourneying – could not be confirmed.

Until now. Sometimes it seems as though there are random pieces of information spread around in certain manuscripts and books waiting for someone to find them and connect one to another, like a giant jigsaw. This is what happened last week, although the credit belongs entirely to Alianore who, on a trip to her local large library, casually took down Juliet RV Barker’s book: The Tournament in England 1100-1400. On flicking through the pages, the following sentence leapt out: ‘In 1310, a later Hugh Despenser attended a tournament at Mons with Robert Enghien, where their names and arms are recorded…’ (3)

Bingo! So it seems that Hugh the younger, at the age of 21, was so eager to go tourneying that he disobeyed the king regardless of any possible consequences on his return (this ‘act first, think later’ attitude can be seen time and time again during his life). Perhaps he thought no-one would notice his absence and that Edward would never find out. After all, he had no reason at that time to be at court (not being important enough), so who would even care about his whereabouts?

Obviously someone did – as Edward was made aware of the young man’s disobedience very soon after and, from the date of the warrant, seems to have acted straight away. After receiving the king’s instructions, Walter de Gloucestre, the escheator south of the Trent seized Hugh’s manors of Welde, Lammersch, Wykes, Kersey, Leyham and Oxecroft into royal custody. The only problem with this is that they didn’t actually belong to Hugh – they belonged to his father! The confusion had arisen because Hugh the elder had granted his son the issues of those manors to maintain him, but not the estates themselves. That his father was so stingy towards his heir is another issue that needs to be explored but alas, not in this post. Anyway, the upshot of the inquisition sent to work out the whole mess in February was that the manors were returned to Hugh the elder in full. (4) What other punitive measures, if any, were taken against Hugh the son, are not extant.

As with so much research, this discovery, whilst answering one question, provokes others. For example, who on earth was Robert d’Enghien, the man who was named with Hugh as travelling to Mons and taking part in the tourney? I did a little bit of digging around on genealogy sites and, although I couldn’t come up with someone by the name of Robert, I did find a d’Enghien family of noble birth and estate that came from… Enghien, in Hainault. And, on further inspection it turns out that Enghien is not far at all from Mons, the location of the tourney. There are some family trees that exist for members of the d’Enghien family around this time, but none show a person named Robert. The best of these genealogy maps can be found here.

However, just because Robert doesn’t appear does not mean that he didn’t have a connection with this family – he could have been a younger brother or a member of a smaller family branch that has not been recorded. However, what he was doing in the company of Hugh Despenser at that time, aiding and abetting him to defy the king – I’ll leave that to your imaginations!

Another tantalising question arises out of pure speculation, but speculation based on factual events. Once again, I must point out that Alianore must take all of the credit for this one, although, after viewing all of the possibilities, I tend to agree with her supposition. This point of interest arises from an entry in the Issue Roll for the 21st October 1310 that records Edward II paying a messenger for ‘the news which he brought to the same Lord the King, respecting the Lady Eleanor (5) – thanks to Alianore for the reference. Usually, when Edward paid such sums it was on the occasion of good news, such as a birth. It is possible (if a bit early) that this may have Isabella, Eleanor and Hugh’s second child – or it may even have been one that didn’t survive infancy and wasn’t recorded (as sometimes happened).

At this point, I ought to make the timeline of this a bit clearer. Hugh left England probably in early January (although it could have been late December). The tournament at Mons took place in July, so in other words he was away for a long time (sightseeing?). Edward paid the messenger on the 21st October 1310 (do you see where I’m going here?). Assuming that the messenger didn’t reach Edward until about a week or so after the birth (and then the delay in recording the gift), then Eleanor would have come to term at about the end of September/beginning of October – nine months after Hugh left. A parting gift perhaps? Unfortunately we’ll never know – the message could even have been that Hugh had returned. But nine months is a bit of a coincidence.

Once again, thanks to Alianore for finding the missing piece and putting the bits together (and, in doing so making me jump around in a mad, embarrassing way with delight). And thanks too, to her for letting me use it for this post. It’s made a welcome break from website building, I can tell you!


Footnotes
(1) Calendar of Chancery Warrants, AD 1244-1326, London, 1927 (republished on the Internet by TannerRitchie. p.308

(2) Calendar of the Close Rolls, Edward II, Vol VI: 1307-1313, London, 1902 (republished on the Internet by TannerRitchie), p. 237

(3) The Tournament in England 1100-1400, Juliet RV Barker, Boydell Press, 2003, p.133

(4) Close Rolls 1307-1313, p.198

(5) Issues of the Exchequer, Frederick Devon, London, 1837 p.124 (available on Google Books)

Bits and Pieces

First of all, some news! Those who also follow Alianore's blog will already have heard this, but for those who haven't I shall repeat it here too:

Alianore and I have been running two similar (but not quite the same) blogs for some time now and, as we also get on like a castle on fire, we have decided to combine our strengths and develop a large, new and shiny web site together. It will have all the elements of our blogs but hopefully will also have some new stuff too. As always, the aim is to put correct information about our two favourite 14th Century boys - Edward II and Hugh out to those who want to know while also tackling the immense amount of disinformation both on the web and in books. We also want to make it a fun site as well as an informative one - and I have a few ideas for that as well (but I'm afraid you'll have to wait).

The website is currently in the R&D phase while I look at options, content, layout etc, but on my current timescale calculations I'm hoping for a launch date in August (bear in mind though that I was never any good at maths!). We could chuck one together much quicker - but we really want this to be something special because, as L'Oreal say: 'you're worth it!'

Now, onto search terms. Apart from the multitude of hanging, drawing and quartering searches (and variations thereupon), there haven't been quite so many odd ones this time around. That doesn't mean that there haven't been any at all though:

beatiful and amazing medieval writing – why thank you. It’s nice that someone sees my true talent!

strange men's names – didn’t your mother tell you never to speak to strange men, let alone ask their names?

roger mortimer’s scam – you mean the one where he seduced Isabella of France and used her and her son to invade England and depose Edward????

middlesex man disappears with money and family jewels – I really can’t understand why this search should turn up a blog on Hugh Despenser.

part time jobs for teenagers in tewkesbury - There’s a certain tomb that needs polishing every month…

susan guy beauchamp – a very little known side of the earl of Warwick was that he liked to put on a frock and call himself Susan.

cryptic message – so cryptic, I haven’t a clue what it is.

how to overcome saucery – kill the chef?

Finally - when searching for wonderful websites to get ideas from, I came across this website on the Webby Awards site. It made me laugh, so I thought I'd share them it you:

http://failblog.org/

Roger Mortimer Part 4: 1323-1330

Exile
On 1st August 1323, Roger Mortimer did something that only a few others have also achieved – he escaped from the Tower of London. With a bit of help from the Tower’s deputy constable, Gerald d’Alspaye who had rather usefully drugged the garrison, Roger, Alspaye and his cell companion Richard de Monmouth, scaled the walls, dropped onto the Tower’s wharf and from there found themselves passed along a chain of helpers until they reached France. Needless to say, Edward and Hugh Despenser were more than livid, but at that point probably had no idea just how dangerous Roger was to become.

Once in France Roger was welcomed by the French king, Charles IV (Edward’s brother-in-law), who was already on the verge of war with England over Gascony. Roger had plenty of reason to stay in France – his son, Geoffrey, had lands there – inherited from his grandmother, and Mortimer’s cousin and uncle - Robert and John de Fiennes, had estates in Picardy. But it seems that Roger was not content to stay in comfortable exile in one place, no matter how welcome he was made. He was next reported staying with the count of Boulogne. Certainly, during the next year it seems that Roger travelled about a fair bit – whether to earn a living from his sword or else to try and get some support for an attempt to invade England is not really known. Edward and Hugh, however, by this time were clearly fearing that their enemy was preparing an invasion force with rumours flying that ships were about to set sail from any number of European ports.

By the end of 1323, England eventually found itself at war with France over a skirmish at the town of St Sardos in Gascony. French natives living or trading in England were cast out and Isabella herself was subject to strictures – mainly the confiscation of her lands, a reduction in her living expenses, and the removal from her influence of her children (although many already had their own households, so that oft-repeated accusation that her children were forcibly removed from her does not, under scrutiny, hold water).

Mortimer and Isabella
In March 1325, after much debate, Isabella was sent to France to negotiate with her brother to end the war. One of the demands of the truce was that Edward should also travel to France to do homage to Charles for his lands in Gascony. However, he was counselled against it by Despenser who knew that once Edward was at a distance, his enemies could make their move and remove him – permanently – from Edward’s side, just as had happened to Gaveston. Edward was, to put it bluntly, caught between a rock and a hard place. He dare not leave his friend to an uncertain fate (or even risk capture or assassination himself) by going, but if he did not then he would lose his lands in Gascony. The only other alternative acceptable to Charles was for him to send his eldest son and heir to the throne, Edward, instead.

Once again, a lot of soul-searching took place but eventually, Edward made his son the Duke of Aquitaine and invested him with Gascony. By the end of September, the young prince had accordingly crossed the channel and performed homage for his new lands. A post about the problems Edward faced in his decision can be found here at Alianore’s Edward II blog.

When Isabella set foot on French soil, Roger was nowhere near – he was in Hainault, probably laying the ground for the alliance which would, in the near future, pay off very handsomely. Some writers have theorised that Roger and Isabella had already formed some sort of relationship (and plot to invade England) even before she left England and also that she had even assisted in Roger’s escape from the Tower. But all of this is just mere supposition – there is no firm evidence that the two of them had any sort of former alliance. Roger, however, was an opportunist – and having both the queen and the prince of England so near must have felt like his prayers had been answered. Very soon it was reported that he was back in Paris, and attending very closely to Isabella. It soon became clear that not only had Isabella allowed Roger into her life but also her chamber and was refusing to return to Edward. The prince, too, seemed to prefer the company of his mother in France but that may be because it was presented to him that he had no other choice.

With Isabella at his side and the young prince under his control, Roger now had the means by which he could raise an army against his former enemies. By promising the marriage of Prince Edward to Philippa of Hainault (one of the Count’s daughters), he was able to use her dowry to pay for ships and men. It looked like his years of exile were coming to an end.

Invader
On the 24th September 1326, Mortimer, Isabella, other English exiles and a group of Hainault mercenaries landed at Orwell in Suffolk and rapidly gained local – and then nationwide support – for their intention to destroy the hated regime of the Despensers (although it wasn’t mooted at this point, to get rid of Edward too). What then happened during Edward and Hugh’s final days together can be read here.

With all opposition either dead, fled or imprisoned (including the now erst-while king), Isabella and Mortimer now had a free hand in the country, ruling in the name of the new king Edward – who, being only a young teenager was considered too young to rule by himself. However, it seems that they learned nothing from the behaviour of Edward and the Despensers, awarding themselves land and vast sums of wealth (Isabella) and even a title (Earl of March - Mortimer). Mortimer was very clever in that he publicly distanced himself from the government and its decisions, but, like a puppet master, he was the one pulling all of the strings behind the scenes.

Ruler
The couple’s arrogant, ruthless and vainglorious behaviour won them no friends – in fact within a couple of years most of their erstwhile allies against the Despensers had deserted them and were starting rebellions instead – notably Henry, the earl of Lancaster and the earl of Kent. In February 1330, Mortimer had Kent arrested and then executed for allegedly concocting a plot to free Edward II, who Kent – for his own reasons - thought was still alive. His treason was proven to those trying him by a compromising letter and a confession; the young King really had no choice but to agree to the death of his favourite uncle. By this time, Mortimer’s tyranny was unchecked and no-one was safe. Kent’s plot had also implicated other nobles and it looked as though England was about to descend into a paralysis borne of fear and paranoia.

Maybe Edward III himself felt threatened by Mortimer’s spectacular ambitions – after all, he was getting to the age now when he could rule by himself. And how would Mortimer cope then – deprived of the power and position that he had at present? The country was also bankrupt thanks to mainly his mother’s greed for riches (when they had taken power, the coffers were full to overflowing thanks to the Despenser’s talents for making and hoarding gold for both themselves and the king). Edward may also have been resentful of Mortimer’s hold over him and his mother – and his total lack of regard for protocol for Edward’s position as king (walking beside him or even in front of him for example). In any case, Edward decided he’d had enough. During a parliament, called by Mortimer at Nottingham Castle in October 1330, Edward gathered to himself a group of young men of the same mind as himself. On the 19th October, with the help of a bit of local knowledge, the men entered the castle through a secret passageway from the cliff below, met up with the king and surprised Mortimer, Isabella and some of his council in Isabella’s chamber.

Endgame
Roger’s bodyguards put up a good fight and Hugh de Turpington, a loyal supporter of Roger from the early days was killed. Mortimer was arrested and Isabella, Edward’s own mother, put under guard. In the subsequent trial, Mortimer was accused of many of the things he had himself accused Hugh Despenser of, as well as some extras. He was found guilty and condemned to death. On the 29th November, he was executed by hanging as a common criminal from the gallows at Tyburn – a far less gruesome end than he had condemned Hugh Despenser to suffer. His body was left on the gallows for two days and nights before being cut down.

The chronicler Murimuth writes that Roger was buried at Greyfriars in London – where Isabella was later interred – and this version is one which many modern historians and novellists have chosen to repeat – being blinded by what they see as a great love affair. BUT – an entry in the Close Rolls states that Roger’s body was, in fact, interred at Greyfriars in Coventry. It seems though, that his wife Joan wanted him to be buried in Wigmore Abbey, near his original seat of power, according to a petition from her in 1332. The wording of this petition also makes it clear that at this stage Roger’s body was definitely at Coventry, as the friars seemingly had no intention of giving it up! Unfortunately no tomb (or the abbey or church) exists today to prove things either way.

Roger’s accomplices were also arrested – as was his wife. His family was disinherited – although this decision was later reversed and Joan pardoned. Isabella, being the king’s mother, was let off quite leniently considering her compliance in Mortimer’s plots. Her income was severely curtailed and she was, for a time, also kept under guard – although it appears that she certainly had quite a measure of freedom for a prisoner. At this point two more myths need to be exploded: Isabella DID NOT go mad and die in Castle Rising – it never happened. Also – there is absolutely NO evidence that Roger and Isabella had a child – although it may certainly be possible, there is no trace of such in any record or chronicle.

Roger was a man who, early on, promised much – as warrior and leader. His unfortunate fall from favour at court and subsequent rebellion against Edward certainly have elements which promote some sympathy for the man and his reasons. Up until the rise of Despenser, Mortimer had been a loyal servant and his military and governing prowess had been extremely useful in Ireland. However, once he became the power in England, he turned to the kind of tyranny that he had previously fought against. He not only repeated the mistakes of Despenser – he added to them. And it is for these actions that history mostly remembers him – oh, and of course the probable murder of Edward II.

Sources:
Oxford Dictionary of National Biography Online - Roger Mortimer, Earl of March
National Archives Online - SC8/61/3027
The Greatest Traitor – Ian Mortimer
King Edward II – Roy Martin Haines