Lady Despenser's Scribery - Introduction
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
Anniversary of Hugh's Execution
Today is the sad anniversary of Hugh Despenser's cruel death at the hands of Isabella of France and Roger Mortimer. 683 years ago, Hugh was 'tried' in Hereford, found guilty of treason and many other crimes and sentenced to death by hanging, drawing and quartering. He was dragged to the gallows by four horses, hung from a 50 foot gallows until nearly dead, taken down, castrated, eviscerated and beheaded. His body was then cut into quarters to be displayed in various towns around the realm.
As usual, I shall be visiting his tomb at Tewkesbury Abbey this morning in order to lay a small posy of flowers and light a candle for him.
Related Posts:
About his trial
About his execution
About how terrible execution by hanging, drawing and quartering was
Thursday, 19 November 2009
Novel Snippet Time: Rescuing Lady Badlesmere
As promised, a little snippet from my work in progress (the novel, Despenser). It is still in first draft so may alter between now and when the book is finished. The actual historical event that inspired the happenings in this chapter is detailed in this post. This will also be posted on my fiction blog, Scribe's Den
Rescuing Lady Badlesmere
His men armed and mounted, supplemented by four men from the abbey, Hugh rode out of the abbey precincts and took the road towards Cheshunt. His group consisted of twenty men at arms and two archers as well as his sergeants John le Keu and Adam de Sturmy and his squire, Janekyn: enough of a show of force, Hugh considered, for the task ahead. They kept to an easy canter and soon reached the manor which was just as the servant had described. What he hadn’t said though, was just how badly in need of repair it was: the wood of the palisade and gate looked rotten enough to be caved in with a kick.
He sent the lay brothers off to fell a suitable tree and fashion it into a battering ram. The he sent John le Keu up to the gate. His sergeant hammered on the wood. At first there was no answer, then an arrow flew from the palisade over their heads, landing in the grass beyond. As all eyes fixed on where it had come from, a head ducked down behind the wood.
‘Fall back,’ Hugh shouted and, as one, the men retreated to where they judged was beyond the range of the archer. Le Keu realising what danger he was in, ran like a man possessed back to their lines.
‘God’s teeth!’ Hugh exclaimed as his sergeant reached him, ‘the arrogant bastards! Do they think they can take us on and win?’
Le Keu, still panting from his run, gave an appraising look at the palisade. ‘I think they’re desperate precisely because they know they can’t win. I’ll wager they only have one archer with them – two at the most – and nowhere near as well trained as ours. They are trying to bluff it out: see if they can frighten us away.’
‘With one arrow?’ Hugh snorted. ‘They’ll have to try better than that!’ He called out behind him: ‘Is that battering ram ready yet?’
‘Yes my lord,’ answered one of his men. ‘It’s coming through now.’
The ram was made from what looked to Hugh like a young oak. It wasn’t the thickest one he had ever seen, but then it didn’t need to be. Five lengths of rope had been wrapped around it at intervals to form a sling and so would only need ten men to operate it.
Hugh motioned to John, Adam and Janekyn to come close. ‘Adam, I want to you station our archers to give cover to the men on the ram. If anybody’s head pops up over that palisade I want it taken off. John, I’m putting you in charge of the ram. Janekyn, you will come with me when the gate is breached.’
They nodded and went away to organise their various parties. At Hugh’s command, the ram party picked it up and carried it forward to the gate.
‘You have one more chance to surrender’, Hugh shouted out. As if in reply another arrow winged its way from the manor before ploughing harmlessly into a puddle before the gate. It was answered by a volley from Hugh’s archers, several of the arrows ploughing into the palisade whilst others overshot into the manor grounds. They did not appear to hit their target, but the man on the other side would be left in no doubt that if he tried to aim at them again it would be his last attempt.
Hugh raised his hand and the battering ram swung into action, the men picking it up by the ropes and starting it swinging, until its arc was big enough to connect with the wood of the door. The first contact split the air with the sound of splintering and the gates appeared to bulge inwards. The second swing burst them open completely, to a huge cheer. John ordered the men to stop and they dragged the ram to one side to allow the horses through before following on behind.
Hugh and Janekyn led the charge into the manor grounds. Hugh, gripping his axe, swung his head left and right, trying to find a target through the narrow slit in his helm, but all he could see were his own men. Drawing his horse in a circle he scoured the palisade for the archer but he had vanished, seemingly along with the rest of the miscreants. He lifted his visor and found Janekyn.
‘The bastards have fled. Take Adam’s troop and scour the grounds; they can’t have gone far.’
‘They could be in the house sire,’ John le Keu strode up to him.
‘In that case we really could have a fight on our hands. Handpick your best men and tell them to prepare for close quarter combat.’
Rescuing Lady Badlesmere
His men armed and mounted, supplemented by four men from the abbey, Hugh rode out of the abbey precincts and took the road towards Cheshunt. His group consisted of twenty men at arms and two archers as well as his sergeants John le Keu and Adam de Sturmy and his squire, Janekyn: enough of a show of force, Hugh considered, for the task ahead. They kept to an easy canter and soon reached the manor which was just as the servant had described. What he hadn’t said though, was just how badly in need of repair it was: the wood of the palisade and gate looked rotten enough to be caved in with a kick.
He sent the lay brothers off to fell a suitable tree and fashion it into a battering ram. The he sent John le Keu up to the gate. His sergeant hammered on the wood. At first there was no answer, then an arrow flew from the palisade over their heads, landing in the grass beyond. As all eyes fixed on where it had come from, a head ducked down behind the wood.
‘Fall back,’ Hugh shouted and, as one, the men retreated to where they judged was beyond the range of the archer. Le Keu realising what danger he was in, ran like a man possessed back to their lines.
‘God’s teeth!’ Hugh exclaimed as his sergeant reached him, ‘the arrogant bastards! Do they think they can take us on and win?’
Le Keu, still panting from his run, gave an appraising look at the palisade. ‘I think they’re desperate precisely because they know they can’t win. I’ll wager they only have one archer with them – two at the most – and nowhere near as well trained as ours. They are trying to bluff it out: see if they can frighten us away.’
‘With one arrow?’ Hugh snorted. ‘They’ll have to try better than that!’ He called out behind him: ‘Is that battering ram ready yet?’
‘Yes my lord,’ answered one of his men. ‘It’s coming through now.’
The ram was made from what looked to Hugh like a young oak. It wasn’t the thickest one he had ever seen, but then it didn’t need to be. Five lengths of rope had been wrapped around it at intervals to form a sling and so would only need ten men to operate it.
Hugh motioned to John, Adam and Janekyn to come close. ‘Adam, I want to you station our archers to give cover to the men on the ram. If anybody’s head pops up over that palisade I want it taken off. John, I’m putting you in charge of the ram. Janekyn, you will come with me when the gate is breached.’
They nodded and went away to organise their various parties. At Hugh’s command, the ram party picked it up and carried it forward to the gate.
‘You have one more chance to surrender’, Hugh shouted out. As if in reply another arrow winged its way from the manor before ploughing harmlessly into a puddle before the gate. It was answered by a volley from Hugh’s archers, several of the arrows ploughing into the palisade whilst others overshot into the manor grounds. They did not appear to hit their target, but the man on the other side would be left in no doubt that if he tried to aim at them again it would be his last attempt.
Hugh raised his hand and the battering ram swung into action, the men picking it up by the ropes and starting it swinging, until its arc was big enough to connect with the wood of the door. The first contact split the air with the sound of splintering and the gates appeared to bulge inwards. The second swing burst them open completely, to a huge cheer. John ordered the men to stop and they dragged the ram to one side to allow the horses through before following on behind.
Hugh and Janekyn led the charge into the manor grounds. Hugh, gripping his axe, swung his head left and right, trying to find a target through the narrow slit in his helm, but all he could see were his own men. Drawing his horse in a circle he scoured the palisade for the archer but he had vanished, seemingly along with the rest of the miscreants. He lifted his visor and found Janekyn.
‘The bastards have fled. Take Adam’s troop and scour the grounds; they can’t have gone far.’
‘They could be in the house sire,’ John le Keu strode up to him.
‘In that case we really could have a fight on our hands. Handpick your best men and tell them to prepare for close quarter combat.’
Saturday, 14 November 2009
Hugh Despenser the Hero
Over the years, Hugh Despenser’s name has become so associated with avariciousness, ruthlessness and ambition (and not without due cause) that he is often portrayed by writers, both within fiction and historical fact as being completely one dimensional: a copybook, archetypal villain with no redeeming features. Of course, it is hard to find definitive proof that he was also the type to help old ladies out with carrying their shopping bags, funding local charitable institutions (other than abbeys) or being father/husband of the year.
However, there is one entry in the Patent Rolls, overlooked by most, which actually shows him up to be a bit of a hero. In the records of December 1319 there are several entries relating to a complaint by Bartholomew de Badlesmere, Edward II’s steward, and his wife Margaret against a list of specified names - men and women. The accusation was that these people:
Ches(t)hunt was a village just north of London and not far from Waltham Abbey, on the Ermine way, the main route from London to York. From what I can gather from British History Online (2), it had several manors (although because others were later added and others merged, the records are a bit confusing): Cheshunt Manor, Perriers and La Mote. There may also have been one other moated manor house but this is unclear. All were held of John of Brittany, the earl of Richmond, although the latter was held of him by Aymer de Valence, earl of Pembroke. I am assuming that it was at one of these manors (messuage can also mean a manor as well as a smaller dwelling with land) that Margaret was staying. Considering she seemed to be with a household of servants, a manor would have been of suitable size and status for a lady of her rank. It is puzzling though why she chose to stay at Cheshunt, when Waltham Abbey, a couple of miles away, would have been able to accommodate her and when her own manor of Plashes, at Standon was a short travelling distance north. To be honest, I haven’t really got a clue why she was there, although I suspect she may have been on her way north from her estates in Kent.
Which brings me to my next point. Edward and the court were, at that point, in York(3) – a good week’s journey away if travelling with an entourage. Hence, it does make sense that Lady Badlesmere could have been making her way to court for Christmas. However, it is much more puzzling that Hugh Despenser was also close enough to Cheshunt to be able to go to her rescue. Surely, as Chamberlain, it would have been expected that he would have been with the king, playing his courtier role, and – if his detractors are to be believed – staying so close to Edward and controlling him so that no-one else could get a look-in. Instead, he seems to have been gallivanting around the south rescuing damsels in distress.
I must admit, my first thought was heavily influenced by my fiction-writer’s head: Hugh must have been having a secret affair with Lady Badlesmere and arranged for them both to be in the same area at the same time, something we would not have known about had it not been for the attack. But, on further thinking from a more objective viewpoint, this idea, although not impossible, is rather improbable. There is absolutely nothing in any official record or in any chronicle (even those biased against him) which point to any shenanigans between them. Also, Hugh was, despite his often careless and impetuous nature, probably more sensible than to risk an affair with the wife of his close colleague and maybe friend, Badlesmere.
There is another possibility however, and one which does make sense. As I mentioned earlier, Cheshunt is on the main route from London to York, where the court was based. For whatever reason she stopped at that manor, it is most likely that Lady Badlesmere was travelling along that route to reach court. Hugh was also, by complete coincidence, travelling north from London. At that time, Edward was trying to arrange a truce with the Scots and it may be that Hugh went down to London on some business that concerned the negotiations that were about to take place. Maybe, just maybe, he happened to be in the right place at the right time and was therefore able to effect the rescue.
Of course, all of the above is just high speculation based on what is known plus a logical look at the most likely scenario – and that is what I shall be using for the novel. In the fiction though, whether Lady Badlesmere does make a play for her rescuer is yet to be seen! Once the chapter is finished I shall post a little teaser snippet of it here and on my other writing site at Scribe’s Den.
I was also interested in what happened to the accused mentioned in that earlier complaint. There were 61 on the original list - although some of those seem to be just duplicate spellings. A commission of oyer and terminer (a sort of investigation and trial in one) was sent to deal with the matter and, from later entries, 17 were imprisoned – first at Hertford and later at the Tower (at Badlesmere’s request) (4). Then, a couple of years later, after Badlesmere fell from favour, 15 others, who had not turned up for the original commission, were pardoned at the instance of John of Brittany (5). Unfortunately there are no further entries to tell us whether the other guilty parties, still languishing in the Tower, were released or not.
So, in summary, although we know that Hugh Despenser, for once, played the role of the good guy, there are still many unanswered questions about the circumstances. Which, when looking at the facts, is annoying, but when looking at it as a fiction writer, gives room for a lot of scope!
(1) Calendar of the Patent Rolls, 1317-21, p.478
(2) British History Online < http://www.british-history.ac.uk/report.aspx?compid=43640&strquery=cheshunt>. See also another web page on the Manorial System in Cheshunt: <http://www.lowewood.com/cheshunt/the-manorial-system>
(3) The Itinerary of Edward II and His Household 1307-1328, E.M. Hallam
(4) Calendar of the Close Rolls, 1318-1323, p.267
(5) Calendar of the Patent Rolls, 1321-1324, p.37
However, there is one entry in the Patent Rolls, overlooked by most, which actually shows him up to be a bit of a hero. In the records of December 1319 there are several entries relating to a complaint by Bartholomew de Badlesmere, Edward II’s steward, and his wife Margaret against a list of specified names - men and women. The accusation was that these people:
having gone by night to a messuage at Chesthunt, co. Hertford, wherein the said Margaret was lodged, made an attack upon her and on the men and servants of the said Bartholomew who were with her, besieged them therein, and maintained the siege until Hugh le Despenser, the younger, on the following day rescued them. (1)
Ches(t)hunt was a village just north of London and not far from Waltham Abbey, on the Ermine way, the main route from London to York. From what I can gather from British History Online (2), it had several manors (although because others were later added and others merged, the records are a bit confusing): Cheshunt Manor, Perriers and La Mote. There may also have been one other moated manor house but this is unclear. All were held of John of Brittany, the earl of Richmond, although the latter was held of him by Aymer de Valence, earl of Pembroke. I am assuming that it was at one of these manors (messuage can also mean a manor as well as a smaller dwelling with land) that Margaret was staying. Considering she seemed to be with a household of servants, a manor would have been of suitable size and status for a lady of her rank. It is puzzling though why she chose to stay at Cheshunt, when Waltham Abbey, a couple of miles away, would have been able to accommodate her and when her own manor of Plashes, at Standon was a short travelling distance north. To be honest, I haven’t really got a clue why she was there, although I suspect she may have been on her way north from her estates in Kent.
Which brings me to my next point. Edward and the court were, at that point, in York(3) – a good week’s journey away if travelling with an entourage. Hence, it does make sense that Lady Badlesmere could have been making her way to court for Christmas. However, it is much more puzzling that Hugh Despenser was also close enough to Cheshunt to be able to go to her rescue. Surely, as Chamberlain, it would have been expected that he would have been with the king, playing his courtier role, and – if his detractors are to be believed – staying so close to Edward and controlling him so that no-one else could get a look-in. Instead, he seems to have been gallivanting around the south rescuing damsels in distress.
I must admit, my first thought was heavily influenced by my fiction-writer’s head: Hugh must have been having a secret affair with Lady Badlesmere and arranged for them both to be in the same area at the same time, something we would not have known about had it not been for the attack. But, on further thinking from a more objective viewpoint, this idea, although not impossible, is rather improbable. There is absolutely nothing in any official record or in any chronicle (even those biased against him) which point to any shenanigans between them. Also, Hugh was, despite his often careless and impetuous nature, probably more sensible than to risk an affair with the wife of his close colleague and maybe friend, Badlesmere.
There is another possibility however, and one which does make sense. As I mentioned earlier, Cheshunt is on the main route from London to York, where the court was based. For whatever reason she stopped at that manor, it is most likely that Lady Badlesmere was travelling along that route to reach court. Hugh was also, by complete coincidence, travelling north from London. At that time, Edward was trying to arrange a truce with the Scots and it may be that Hugh went down to London on some business that concerned the negotiations that were about to take place. Maybe, just maybe, he happened to be in the right place at the right time and was therefore able to effect the rescue.
Of course, all of the above is just high speculation based on what is known plus a logical look at the most likely scenario – and that is what I shall be using for the novel. In the fiction though, whether Lady Badlesmere does make a play for her rescuer is yet to be seen! Once the chapter is finished I shall post a little teaser snippet of it here and on my other writing site at Scribe’s Den.
I was also interested in what happened to the accused mentioned in that earlier complaint. There were 61 on the original list - although some of those seem to be just duplicate spellings. A commission of oyer and terminer (a sort of investigation and trial in one) was sent to deal with the matter and, from later entries, 17 were imprisoned – first at Hertford and later at the Tower (at Badlesmere’s request) (4). Then, a couple of years later, after Badlesmere fell from favour, 15 others, who had not turned up for the original commission, were pardoned at the instance of John of Brittany (5). Unfortunately there are no further entries to tell us whether the other guilty parties, still languishing in the Tower, were released or not.
So, in summary, although we know that Hugh Despenser, for once, played the role of the good guy, there are still many unanswered questions about the circumstances. Which, when looking at the facts, is annoying, but when looking at it as a fiction writer, gives room for a lot of scope!
(1) Calendar of the Patent Rolls, 1317-21, p.478
(2) British History Online < http://www.british-history.ac.uk/report.aspx?compid=43640&strquery=cheshunt>. See also another web page on the Manorial System in Cheshunt: <http://www.lowewood.com/cheshunt/the-manorial-system>
(3) The Itinerary of Edward II and His Household 1307-1328, E.M. Hallam
(4) Calendar of the Close Rolls, 1318-1323, p.267
(5) Calendar of the Patent Rolls, 1321-1324, p.37
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