Katherine Swynford: Enduring Interest

Above: Katherine by Anya Seton. 

Katherine Swynford, duchess of Lancaster, is one of the most fascinating women in medieval English history. Most people know Katherine from Anya Seton's novel, published in 1954. Anya's Katherine is passionate, beguiling and ultimately loveable. The novel ripples with emotion, and its heroine is charismatic and memorable. At heart, it is a romantic novel, and the legendary relationship between Katherine and John of Gaunt is presented as one of passion. Whether this fictional depiction can be viewed as historically accurate is impossible to say, but Seton's reading is plausible, given that we know Katherine was John's mistress for many years before he finally married her. She became his third, and perhaps most beloved, wife.

As far as facts go, we know very little about the real woman, which is unsurprising given that she lived over six hundred years ago. Katherine Swynford was the daughter of the herald Paon de Roet, and she was born around 1350. Seton's novel depicts her as only having one sister, Philippa, but it is likely that she in fact had two (the other being Isabel). Katherine's sister Philippa, who may have been younger than Katherine, went on to marry the poet Geoffrey Chaucer, who is best known for his work The Canterbury Tales, a stunning insight into medieval English life that is replete with humour and wit. 

Above: The tomb of Katherine next to that of her daughter Joan.

Katherine's first marriage was to the knight Hugh Swynford; their wedding probably occurred in 1366, when she was about sixteen. After their wedding, Hugh and Katherine resided at the manor of Kettlethorpe in Lincolnshire. By him, Katherine had three children. In the novel Katherine, the relationship between Hugh and Katherine is complex. They do experience affection for one another, but it is clear that Katherine's love for John of Gaunt takes precedence over any feelings she has for her husband Hugh. Later, Katherine became the governess of Philippa of Lancaster and Elizabeth of Lancaster, the daughters of John of Gaunt. 

The love affair between Katherine and John is swathed in mystery, but it has been the subject of considerable attention ever since it took place. Artists, novelists and filmmakers have endlessly speculated about Katherine's relationship with John. In the novel, the two are acquainted at court and experience an instant, powerful attraction for one another that ends only with death. The truth, however, is much less certain. It may only have been when she became governess to his daughters that Katherine fell in love with John. It is entirely possible, moreover, that Katherine was more ambitious than has been traditionally thought. John of Gaunt was the third surviving son of King Edward III. While it may not have seemed likely that he would ever become king himself, he was Duke of Lancaster, probably the most powerful and influential nobleman in the kingdom. Wealth and riches were at his fingertips. 

Above: A later portrait of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster.

By this time, John's first wife Blanche had died. The first duchess of Lancaster had been much-beloved; in life she had been strikingly beautiful, gracious and virtuous. Her young death was viewed as a sorrowful tragedy, and John was believed to have felt deep grief at her passing. His second marriage, to the Infanta Constance of Castile, was an entirely political match. John married her because he was ambitiously hoping to become King of Castile. The marriage ensured that the duke obtained a kingdom of his own, perhaps because he was aware that it was unlikely that he would become king of England. Constance died in 1394.

Katherine's love affair with John had begun shortly after Blanche's death. It was, however, to ruin Katherine's reputation: she was slandered as a 'scandalous' whore. The duke was highly unpopular himself, for he was viewed as unscrupulous and scheming. At some point, Katherine's husband died, and the unmarried Katherine's reputation suffered as a result of her relations with John. By him, she bore four children. Following Constance's death, John took the momentous step of marrying Katherine, thus legitimising their children. It was a true triumph for Katherine. No longer a disgraced whore, but a duchess by marriage, she attained what few royal mistresses could hope for: marriage with her royal lover. Tragically for the couple, John died only three years after their marriage. Katherine herself lived until 1403, when she died at the age of about fifty-three.

Above: Katherine Swynford's tomb.

Katherine Swynford's life is extraordinary, not simply because of her love affair with one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. She lived at a remarkable time. Katherine lived through the flowering of English literature; her brother-in-law was the famed poet Geoffrey Chaucer, and it is reasonable to expect that she read his works herself. She was a young woman growing up during the celebrated reign of Edward III, who has been seen as one of England's greatest monarchs. And she experienced momentous political conflict, as embodied in the Peasant's Revolt of 1381. 

Perhaps Katherine's real importance and fascination, however, lies in her legacy. Through her marriage to John of Gaunt, which ensured that their children were declared legitimate, Katherine was the ancestress of the Tudor dynasty. We may know very little about the real woman's life, but Katherine Swynford has been immortalised in fiction as a passionate, charismatic and determined woman. A royal mistress and later duchess of Lancaster, her life will likely forever remain one of enduring interest. 

Edward II and Isabella of France

The relationship between King Edward II and his wife Isabella of France is almost always depicted in negative terms. In Derek Jarman's film Edward II (1991), Tilda Swinton offers a sexually frustrated, ambitious Isabella who turns against her ineffectual husband and usurps his throne. In Mel Gibson's Braveheart (1995), Isabella enjoys a romantic affair with the Scottish landowner and hero William Wallace, perhaps because she experiences frustration and dismay with her husband Edward. The film even suggests that Wallace is the father of her son Prince Edward, despite the fact that Wallace died in 1305, three years before Isabella arrived in England and seven years before the birth of the prince. Biographers of Isabella have tended to characterise the queen as a passive victim of her cruel and merciless husband. She apparently was humiliated, hurt and shamed by his homosexual relationships. She was neglected at court and was mistreated by her husband's courtiers. Finally, her husband seized her children from her and took hold of all of her estates, lands and possessions. He probably allowed his lover Hugh Despenser to violate her. The long-suffering Isabella, who by now had had enough, departed for France alongside her lover Roger Mortimer and arrived back in England with foreign aid. The citizens of England, who loathed their king as much as she did, willingly rallied to her side, and together they marched through the country. Edward was removed from the throne and the popular Isabella achieved a resounding victory. Her son Edward was crowned Edward III and Isabella was celebrated forever after as a liberator.

However, the real story is not as simple as this version would like to make out. This version reduces Edward and Isabella to simplistic and unconvincing cardboard caricatures: Edward as a sexually depraved bully and Isabella as a passive, humiliated victim. This does no justice to the real people. King Edward and his queen actually enjoyed a close, supportive relationship for most of their lives together. They had four children with one another, and frequently departed for France on peace missions, where contemporaries, including Geoffrey of Paris in 1313, noted their love and respect for one another. Isabella sought her husband's support and assistance in her household governance, which he readily gave. Edward was so impressed with his young wife's success in the sphere of her household that he awarded her with possession of the great seal on two occasions, in 1319 and 1321, which greatly honoured the queen and confirmed his trust in her abilities.

Isabella was happy enough to approach Edward when she sought to intercede on behalf of individuals. The administrative documents at the National Archives are full of references to her seeking pardons from the king for those whom she felt to be oppressed and in need of assistance. Edward made sure his wife enjoyed a splendid household and she was afforded every dignity as queen. It is actually uncertain, contrary to popular belief, how she felt about Piers Gaveston, her husband's favourite and, possibly, lover, but it does not seem her relations with Gaveston were as hostile as is often believed. She assisted him financially in 1311 before his exile from England, and she sheltered some of his supporters in her household. There is no evidence of how Isabella personally felt about him. 

The relationship between the royal couple did become more strained in the mid-1320s, probably because of Hugh Despenser's malign influence. He seems to have begun a concerted campaign of poisoning the king's mind against his wife, perhaps because he was attempting to replace her in Edward's counsels. In September 1324, the king seized all of Isabella's estates and lands. Yet this does not mean that Isabella gradually came to hate and despise her husband. On the contrary, when she was abroad a year or so later, she continually reiterated her desire to return to Edward, because she loved him and wished to obey his wishes. However, she felt that she could not do so on account of the enmity of Despenser and his father. She believed that her very life would be endangered if she returned to the country. Isabella also sought to protect her son Prince Edward's inheritance, who was with her in France: rumours were circulating at this point that he would be disinherited and not allowed to succeed to the throne on account of his refusal to return to England. 

The evidence credibly suggests that Isabella loved her husband and longed to return to him, but could not do so on account of the malicious Despensers, who enjoyed the king's influence and protection. Edward came to view his wife as disobedient and treacherous, for he was unable to appreciate the danger she faced. Their marriage fell into ruin and they were never able to experience the happiness which they had enjoyed in each other's company for such a long period. Whether Edward was murdered in the autumn of 1327, or whether he died at a later date as an obscure pilgrim in Europe, Isabella certainly continued to honour his memory and, when she died in 1358, she chose to be buried with his heart. The relationship between Edward and Isabella was not one of abuse, hatred and murder. It was, for fifteen years, a loving, stable and supportive union. The royal couple were frequently in one another's company and were parents to four children. Contemporaries commented on their love for one another. Yet the malign influence of the Despensers and Edward's growing tyranny destroyed their once happy marriage. 

Alice Perrers, Mistress of Edward III

Above: A fictional depiction of Alice Perrers attending the deathbed of her lover, King Edward III.

History abounds with the names of those who enchanted kings and became their mistresses. They were the stars at the centre of royal courts, they basked in favour, they were present at every social gathering, dazzling and enchanting onlookers, captivating observers and inspiring awe, envy, devotion and hatred. Whether for a night or a month, a year or a decade, these women were privy to their royal lovers' secrets and enjoyed informal influence at the heart of power. Whether they were motivated by wealth, ambition, love or goodwill, or whether they were coerced, depends entirely on circumstance.

One royal mistress who has traditionally been seen as motivated solely by blind, grasping ambition, is the legendary lover of Edward III, one of England's greatest medieval kings: Alice Perrers. For the last decade of the ageing king's life, Alice was his confidant, his bedfellow, his friend and his companion. She became a byword for promiscuity, arrogance, and greed. Loathed by commons and courtiers alike, but beloved of the king, Alice's story exemplifies the dazzling opportunities presented to those who captured the heart of their monarch.


Above: An artistic rendition of the relationship between Edward and Alice.

Alice's origins were humble, and at her birth no-one could have guessed that she would one day become mistress of a king. Her birth date is unknown, although it has been suggested that she was born around 1348. She was probably the daughter of Sir Richard Perrers of Hertfordshire, who was thrown into prison in 1350 (when his daughter may have been only two years of age) and outlawed nine years later, following a dispute with the abbey of St. Albans. Given-Wilson contends that the Perrers family's hostile relations with the abbey could account for the virulent hatred later directed towards Alice in the chronicle of Thomas Walsingham, who was chronicler at St. Albans. He disparaged her, describing her as ugly and claimed that she only enchanted Edward through sorcery and magic: a common explanation in the Middle Ages for beautiful women who captured the heart of kings. Elizabeth Wydeville is an obvious example of this.

At an unknown date, Alice arrived at court and served in the household of Queen Philippa of Hainault, the respected and matronly queen of Edward III. Around 1364, when she may have been only sixteen years of age (the king was fifty-two), she seems to have become Edward's lover. For the next five years, their relationship was secret and veiled. Only when Philippa died in 1369 did Alice's affair with the king become more conspicuous, and it aroused bitter envy and hatred at court. Alice acquired numerous favours from the king and she soon became an extremely wealthy lady. Her doting lover bestowed upon her property and even jewels belonging to the late queen. She became known as 'The Lady of the Sun' and courtiers were expected to behave respectfully towards her.

Alice's power soon became legendary, and it is possible that she inspired fear. She engaged in a series of enfeoffments-to-use and other land transactions, and Walsingham reported that Alice 'had such power and eminence in those days that no-one dared to prosecute a claim against her'. How credible this assertion is cannot be known with certainty. Alice may have been ambitious, she may have been grasping, she may even have been a calculating and cold-hearted opportunist who manipulated the ailing king into granting her unheard of wealth and status at a court that brimmed with spite and loathing of her. But it is also true that it was common practice for high-status women to be attacked as a way of besmirching the name of kings. No-one would have dared to attack Edward III; the easiest way of criticising him was through slandering his mistress. Hostile allegations directed against Alice, therefore, should be taken with a pinch of salt. In any case, who can blame her if she did take advantage of Edward's devotion? She was of humble birth and experienced limited opportunities. Being the king's mistress offered her access to wealth, luxury and security that she probably never dreamed she would ever have the luck of possessing.


Above: King Edward III.

Alice attracted scandal and caused controversy during her years at the centre of English politics. At the Good Parliament of 1376, it came to light that she was not, in fact, a single woman. Some years previously, she had been married to Sir William Windsor, a Westmorland knight. Alice was subsequently banished from court as part of the reforms instituted by those hostile to the way the country was being run. At a later date, she returned. Her besotted royal lover had been pining for her. She remained with him until his death in 1377, when Walsingham claimed that she coldly seized the rings from her royal lover's fingers. Alice had three children by Edward III: John de Southeray (1364-83), who married Mary, half-sister of Henry Lord Percy; Jane; and Joan. 

Later that year, in the new reign, Alice was accused in Parliament of corruption. Although she asserted her innocence, she was found guilty, and was convicted and sentenced to banishment from the kingdom and forfeiture of all her lands and goods. Evidence from inquisitions confirms that she held land in 15 counties: an insight into the extraordinary power and position Alice had acquired during her years as the king's mistress. Alice was clearly a resourceful and determined woman, for she refused to go down without a fight. She spent the remaining years of her life trying to recover as much as possible of what she had been deprived of in the 1377 Parliament. Her husband initially helped her, but his death in 1384 brought new problems, both because he died in debt to the crown and because he had enfeoffed all his lands to a group of trustees, rather than to his wife. The trustees refused to let Alice have the lands, claiming that it had been her late husband's wish that the lands go to his nephew, John Windsor. Alice fell into bitter conflict with John, and sent several petitions to Parliament. She was briefly successful in 1393 when John was imprisoned, but he was later released, and she recovered only a few small manors that were of little worth. She was clearly resentful that her nephew by marriage had 'usurped' her lands. Alice died in the winter of 1400-1, her will being proved in February of 1401.

Alice Perrers was a woman who caused considerable controversy. We lack details surrounding the most basic aspects of her life: her birth date, her appearance, her personality. Most of what we know about her derives from hostile sources that viewed her as to blame for Edward III's mismanagement in the later years of his long reign. She was defamed as arrogant, power-hungry, ruthless, greedy, acquisitive and grasping. How true this assessment is cannot be known with certainty. She occupied an important place in the literature of the age. It has been suggested that she served as the living prototype of the Wife of Bath in Geoffrey Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales, and less favourably, William Langland's Lady Mede -  a selfish, materialistic and immoral high-status woman - in Piers Plowman may have been based on her. But perhaps Alice has been too quickly condemned and too easily reviled. She may have been an opportunist, but it is understandable why she took advantage of Edward III's devotion. She was not of high birth and would have been well aware that her opportunities in life were limited. Who can blame her if she became enamoured with power and dazzled by riches? Most other women of her social standing probably would have done the same. Alice Perrers is well known as one of the most famous royal mistresses, but her reputation remains decidedly unfavourable: perhaps, in this age, we should afford her the benefit of the doubt and view her actions somewhat less moralistically and somewhat more sympathetically.

13 November 1312: The Birth of Edward III

On 13 November 1312, future king Edward III was born at Windsor Castle to Edward II of England and his teenage wife, Isabella of France. Contemporaries wrote that 'on the feast of St Brice in the sixth year of the reign of our lord King Edward, second of that name after the Conquest', the firstborn son to the king and queen of England was born after four years of marriage.

Edward displaced his uncle Thomas of Brotherton as heir to the throne of England. He was only one of two sons born to King Edward and Queen Isabella (the second, John of Eltham, was born in 1316 and died in 1336). Edward would become one of England's greatest kings; in the words of historian Ian Mortimer, 'the father of the English nation'. He was, and is, renowned for his military successes and for restoring royal authority after the decisive and conflict-riven reign of his father. 

Edward II's contemporary biographer, the Vita Edwardi Secundi, commented shortly after the birth of Prince Edward that the king's reign had enjoyed only two positives: the prestigious marriage to Isabella and the birth of a prince. These years experienced factional conflict and tensions at court resulting from Edward II's close relationship with Piers Gaveston. Although historians continue to disagree about its exact nature, they generally agree that Edward courted danger through his obvious preference for the company of Piers, to the detriment of the barons at court. Piers was brutally murdered five months before the birth of Prince Edward, in June 1312, and Edward II was keen to exact revenge upon the murderers of his beloved favourite.


Above: Edward II of England and Isabella of France. The image of Edward is not contemporary.

Both the king and queen seem to have reacted with natural delight upon the birth of their son. The birth of a male heir offered the promise of a degree of stability and hope in a fractured, divided realm. On 16 November, the prince was baptised in the chapel of St Edward the Confessor at Windsor Castle by the cardinal-bishop of St Prisca, Arnaud Nouvel. The prince had seven godfathers: Arnaud d'Aux, bishop of Poitiers and papal envoy; John Droxford, bishop of Bath and Wells; Walter Reynolds, bishop of Worcester; Louis, count of Evreux, great-uncle of the prince; John of Brittany, earl of Richmond; Aymer de Valence, earl of Pembroke; and Hugh Despenser the Elder (who, of course, would be executed fourteen years later in the midst of Isabella's attempt to depose her husband). 

The French delegation had sought for the prince to be named Louis, but the English refused, and the prince was named after his father and grandfather. Contemporary chroniclers stated that Edward's birth brought some happiness to the king, who continued to grieve for Piers. The queen sent a letter to the city of London announcing the joyous news of the birth of an heir, and the city celebrated in style with dancing and drinking significant quantities of free wine for a week. Edward was raised to the earldom of Chester by his father and was granted numerous castles and manors alongside his own household. The queen was also rewarded with grants of lands in Kent, Oxfordshire, Derbyshire and Northamptonshire.

In early 1327, at the age of only fourteen, Edward would accede to the throne as Edward III of England following the deposition, or abdication (there is some controversy), of his father Edward II, who may or may not have died at Berkeley Castle in September of the same year. Edward III enjoyed a glorious reign that lasted fifty years. He died in 1377, aged sixty-four, and was succeeded by his grandson, Richard II.

21 September 1327: The Death of Edward II?

Above: Edward II's tomb effigy at Gloucester Cathedral.

Edward II, king of England from 1307, allegedly died at Berkeley Castle twenty years later, on 21 September 1327. As biographer Harold F. Hutchinson explains in his 1971 study of the king: 'The true story of the manner of Edward's death can never be known for certain'. The former king had been deposed in January 1327 and succeeded by his fourteen-year old son Edward, known as Edward III. His father's reign had, in the words of Natalie Fryde, been 'disastrous'. Edward's wife, Isabella of France, had invaded the country in September 1326 having initially departed to be involved in peace negotiations with the French king. Outraged by the power wielded by her husband's favourites, the Despensers, who had sequestrated her estates and virtually imprisoned herself and her servants, Isabella returned to England alongside her ally - and possibly lover - Roger Mortimer, later earl of March, and a host of supporters. City after city in England supported her, including London, which became her most imposing stronghold. Edward II was taken to Kenilworth Castle, where the bishop of Hereford demanded that he abdicate, charging the king with, amongst other things, being personally incapable of governing; of allowing himself to be led and governed by others; of devoting himself to unsuitable occupations while neglecting the government of his kingdom; of forfeiting the king of France's friendship, and losing the kingdom of Scotland and lands and lordships in Ireland and Gascony; and of exhibiting pride, cruelty, and covetousness.

Edward remained virtually imprisoned at Kenilworth until 2 April 1327, when he was transferred to the custody of Thomas Berkeley and John Maltravers, following a plot led by the Dominican John Stoke to free him. In July, a further conspiracy to release him occurred, and on 14 September, Sir Rhys ap Gruffudd's plot to liberate him was uncovered. A week later, at the parliament at Lincoln, it was announced that the former king had died 'a natural death' at Berkeley Castle in Gloucestershire. His corpse was moved to Gloucester for public display a month later, and on 20 December he was buried in St Peter's Abbey, Gloucester, in the presence of his son and his widow. A splendid tomb was erected by Edward III in his father's memory.


Above: Berkeley Castle, where Edward II allegedly died in 1327.

Historians traditionally accepted that Edward II died at Berkeley Castle on 21 September 1327. Hutchinson, for instance, noted that although a mystery surrounded his end, 'the only fact which seems well established is that Edward of Caernarvon was murdered, if not to the instructions of, at least with the connivance of Mortimer, and probably also of Isabella [Edward's wife]'. But as Natalie Fryde correctly noted in her 1979 study of the last years of his reign, 'if we separate contemporary evidence about his [Edward's] fate from the legend which has accrued around it, we are certainly left with more mystery than certainty'. It is essential to bear in mind this point - legend has replaced concrete historical fact regarding Edward II's end. An obvious example of this is the lingering popularity of the notion that Edward died by having a red hot poker thrust into his anus, allegedly a gruesome parody of his enjoyment of homosexual sex. The chronicle of Geoffrey le Baker (died c. 1360), reported this, as did the Brut chronicle, composed in the 1340s. But both Ian Mortimer and Kathryn Warner have disputed the 'anal rape' narrative of the king's death, arguing instead that it reflected beliefs that he was the passive partner in male-male sexual relations. There is, in short, no compelling evidence for the red hot poker story. As Hutchinson incredulously noted, Baker 'asks his readers to believe that Edward's murderers were so inept, and the castle walls so thin, that townsfolk outside the castle were able to hear the king's dying shrieks'. He dismisses Baker's claims as being 'lurid fiction'.


Above: Gloucester Cathedral, where Edward II may - or may not - be buried.

Other contemporary chronicles were more vague. This perhaps arises from the fact that the actual cause of the former king's death was never stated. Adam Murimuth, writing in the reign of Edward III, vaguely noted that Edward II was 'commonly said' to have been murdered as a precaution on the orders of Maltravers and Gurney. Edward's death has always invited suspicion. As Mark Ormrod notes, it was 'suspiciously timely', leading some historians to argue that the former king was murdered on the orders of the new regime. Kathryn Warner also noted in a blog post that Edward's 'death might have appeared suspiciously convenient for Roger Mortimer and Queen Isabella'. Professor Phillips, who wrote a magisterial account of the king's life, stated that murder was the likeliest fate of Edward II. He noted, however, that the king could have died of natural causes. Phillips dismissed reports of the former king's survival as being 'circumstantial', but noted the mystery about his supposed end.

Most historians have agreed that Edward II died at Berkeley Castle on the night of 21 September, perhaps of natural causes, perhaps through murder. Phillips stated that he may have been suffocated; Roy Haines speculated that the former king had been murdered and stated 'there is little reason to doubt that Edward of Caernarfon's corpse has remained there [at Gloucester Cathedral] undisturbed since December 1327 or thereabouts'; Michael Prestwich opined that Edward II 'almost certainly died at Berkeley'; Mira Rubin concluded that the former king was likely murdered; Joe Burden charged Mortimer with ordering Edward's death; and Chris Given-Wilson explained that Edward II was 'almost certainly' murdered on the night of 21 September, and died in any case.


Above: Edward III, who succeeded in 1327 on the abdication of his father.

Yet, as Warner recognises, it was only after the downfall of Mortimer and Isabella in 1330 that Edward II was reported to have been murdered, at the parliament at Westminster. Edward III accused Mortimer of 14 heinous offences, including ordering the murder of his father. Thomas Lord Berkeley, son-in-law of Mortimer and former custodian of Edward II, reported at this parliament that 'he wishes to acquit himself of the death of the same king, and says that he was never an accomplice, a helper or a procurer in his death, nor did he ever know of his death until this present parliament', a sentence that has confused and puzzled historians ever since.

Other points of mystery exist. Maltravers was never accused or punished for his role in the former king's death. Berkeley himself was acquitted, as was Shalford. The former king's half-brother, the earl of Kent, conspired in 1330 to free Edward from captivity, writing a letter outlining his intent to release his half-brother with 'the assent of almost all the great lords of England'. William Melton, the archbishop of York, wrote a letter to Simon Swanland, a London merchant, in 1329/30 asking him to co-operate with William Clif in aiding the 'old king' upon his release, specifically describing the delivery of clothes and money to Edward.

Moreover, in the nineteenth century the so-called "Fieschi Letter" came to light. Written by Manuele Fieschi, a papal notary, Canon of York and Nottingham, and Bishop of Vercelli from 1342, the letter reports that Edward II escaped from Berkeley Castle in autumn 1327, making his way to Corfe Castle in Dorset, before departing for Ireland and later to Avignon clothed as a pilgrim. He spent two weeks with the pope, before making his way to Brabant, Cologne and later Italy. Recently, historians have generally tended to validate the letter's contents. Fryde stated: 'it is very difficult to think why Fieschi himself... should have manufactured such a letter'. Ian Mortimer believed it was genuine, and devoted considerable time in his studies of Roger Mortimer and Edward III to explaining his theory that Edward II was not, in fact, murdered at Berkeley Castle, and escaped to Europe. Ian Doherty and Alison Weir also accepted that the letter was genuine, and concluded that Edward did escape to Europe, living out his life as a pilgrim.

'William the Welshman' met Edward III at Koblenz in September 1338, claiming to be the king's father. Edward III spent some time with him. As Warner relates: 'other royal pretenders of the era definitely did not spend several weeks socialising with the royal personage they were pretending to be, or claiming kinship with'. She later concluded that 'Edward II or not, the whole episode is an oddity'.


Above: another unlucky king. Edward II's great-grandson, Richard II, was also deposed in 1399, and probably murdered early the following year.

Plainly, there is a wealth of evidence to call into question the traditional notion that Edward II died (probably murdered) on 21 September 1327 at Berkeley Castle. While agreeing with Ian Mortimer that it cannot now be stated with any certainty that the former king's life came to an end in the autumn of that year, less than nine months after his forced abdication, I raised some issues with the survival story. There are nagging questions in my mind that Ian Mortimer, and other revisionist historians, have not sufficiently answered (if they have even considered them in the first place). Firstly: why did Edward III wish to get back in touch with his father, as Mortimer suggests? What did it achieve? Did he want to see if 'William the Welshman' was merely an imposter, or had he enjoyed a close and intimate relationship with the former king pre-1327 that he wished to continue?

Was Edward II content to live as a pilgrim in Europe? Evidence seems to me to compellingly indicate that Edward II firmly believed in the institution of monarchy and was convinced of his right to rule. He was anoited by God, chosen by Him to represent God on earth. Why, then, would he have been content to allow his son to rule? To remove a king unlawfully, which had been the case in 1327 (Edward II only abdicated under duress and coercion), constituted usurpation and a damnable offence in the eyes of God. Ian Mortimer suggested that father and son, reunited in Europe, met and talked with one another. Was there an agreement between them that Edward III would keep his father's identity secret, as long as his father did not make a bid for the English throne? Questions like these are never comprehensively answered.

Berkeley, at the parliament of November 1330, could have been lying in an attempt to save his own skin when he declared that he had never previously heard of Edward II's death. In the medieval context, deposition was usually followed by death. Edward II was the first king to be deposed, but consider later instances: Richard II is believed by historians to have been put to death, or forcibly starved, in 1400 when Henry IV took the throne from him; Henry VI was murdered in 1471, almost certainly on the orders of Edward IV who deposed him; the twelve-year old Edward V was deposed in 1483 and probably murdered, although mystery surrounds his fate and that of his brother; and the deposed Lady Jane Grey, the 'nine-days queen', was executed by her cousin Mary I in 1554. Mortimer and Isabella's regime was notably precarious and unstable, as historians like Fryde recognise. Would they really have been content to allow Edward to live out his days in context of repeated rebellions to release him? Even if they had nothing to do with his death, his jailers may have considered that putting him to death was the only viable way forward. Or, simply, he may very well have died of natural causes.

This article does not seek to refute revisionists' claims that Edward II survived. It is extremely possible that he did, for there is no conclusive evidence that he died, or was murdered, at Berkeley Castle in 1327. But equally, it cannot be stated with certainty that he escaped abroad and lived out the rest of his days in Europe. Whether Edward II, an ill-fated and complex king, met his end at Berkeley in autumn 1327 or not, is a profound and lingering historical mystery that may never be comprehensively solved.