Showing posts with label medieval. Show all posts
Showing posts with label medieval. Show all posts

Tuesday, 22 January 2019

Katherine Howard: History Press

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I am delighted to announce that The History Press are publishing my biography of Henry VIII's fifth wife in April 2019, with the title "Katherine Howard: Henry VIII's Slandered Queen". It presents my years of research into Katherine's brief life and offers additional content to my 2014 biography. You can preorder the book here.

I was very fortunate to offer my thoughts about Henry's youngest wife on The History Press website. You can read the thoughts here, in which I note that

Every piece of surviving evidence we have indicates that, contrary to traditional perceptions, Katherine was a conscientious queen who fulfilled her ceremonial duties aptly. I argue in my book that Katherine’s style of queenship may have been directly shaped by Henry VIII’s changing expectations about the queen’s role. Too often it is assumed that she was uninterested in fulfilling her royal duties, but it is barely ever considered that perhaps her husband had a direct say in the way that Katherine responded to her role. Had Katherine given birth to a male heir and had the king never discovered her pre-marital past, then I do believe she would have been regarded as a very successful queen consort.

Wednesday, 3 May 2017

Kindle Countdown: Queenship in England

Queenship in England: 1308-1485 Gender and Power in the Late Middle Ages by [Byrne, Conor]

*Exciting Opportunity* If you own a Kindle, today and tomorrow, you can buy my book Queenship in England 1308-1485 for only 99p on Amazon UK and 99c on Amazon.com. It's a great deal and well worth taking advantage of. 

Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Queenship-England-1308-1485-Gender-Middle-ebook/dp/B01MT5OVGK/ref=la_B00MPFTO6E_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1493819053&sr=1-2

Amazon.com link: https://www.amazon.com/Queenship-England-1308-1485-Gender-Middle-ebook/dp/B01MT5OVGK/ref=la_B00K2QAHAU_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1493819193&sr=1-2

If you don't own a Kindle, rest assured: you can still buy the book in paperback, but please note that the Amazon countdown deal doesn't apply to paperbacks, only to Kindle. I hope you think this a worthwhile deal - if you're looking for something to read, I'd love you to read (and review) the book!

Sunday, 23 April 2017

23 April 1445: The Wedding of Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou

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On 23 April - some sources suggest 22 April - 1445, Henry VI married Margaret of Anjou at Titchfield Abbey in Hampshire. The king was twenty-three years old and his new bride was fifteen. Margaret, who was born in Lorraine, had arrived in England on 9 April and met Henry shortly afterwards. The marriage was expressly designed to achieve peace between the warring kingdoms of England and France, although Margaret's dowry was rather unimpressive. 

On her wedding day, the king provided Margaret with jewels, including a gold wedding ring. On 28 May, Margaret entered London and was crowned queen at Westminster Abbey two days later. The surviving evidence indicates that Henry and Margaret felt affection, possibly love, for one another, and the records demonstrate that king and queen cooperated on matters of policy during the early years of their marriage. However, Margaret's inability to conceive contributed to growing tensions at court and in the realm more generally. This childlessness, coupled with the perceived shortcomings of the Anjou alliance, meant that Margaret was unable to enjoy popularity among her subjects. 

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In 1453, eight years after her marriage, Margaret finally conceived and gave birth to a son, Edward, on 13 October. However, the birth of her child coincided with Henry VI's illness and compelled Margaret to take a politically active role at the centre of government. Her bid for the regency failed and the duke of York was made protector. As is well-known, Henry's incapacity and the ensuing crisis of kingship led to civil war. 

In my book, Queenship in England - which can be purchased here - I examine Margaret's controversial tenure as queen:

Henry VI’s incapacity created a crisis at the centre of governance. Contemporaries feared the consequences of the king’s infirmity: ‘the reame of Englonde was out of all governaunce… for the kyng was simple… held ne householde ne meyntened no warres’. It is not true that the queen was an avaricious, grasping woman determined to enjoy power irrespective of the consequences; however, her husband’s collapse placed her in an ambiguous and uncomfortable position. Indeed, it was circumstances, including the collapse of her husband and growing discontent among the nobility, that required the queen to play a more directly political role after 1453, alongside her realisation that her son’s inheritance had to be safeguarded.

Wednesday, 4 January 2017

Queenship in England




















Happy New Year! I am delighted to inform you that my new book, Queenship in England, will be published on 12 January 2017 by MadeGlobal. The book is currently available on Amazon to preorder on Kindle, and will be available soon in paperback. You can preorder it on Kindle here.

Queenship in England is a study of the institution of queenship between 1308 and 1485, and examines the experiences of the nine women who occupied the position of queen during that period: Isabella of France; Philippa of Hainault; Anne of Bohemia; Isabelle of France; Joan of Navarre; Katherine of Valois; Margaret of Anjou; Elizabeth Wydeville; and Anne Neville. The book has been praised by Amy Licence, author of Catherine of Aragon: An Intimate Life of Henry VIII's True Wife, as offering 'an interesting and accessible exploration of medieval queenship in relation to gender expectations', while Toni Mount, author of A Year in the Life of Medieval England, described it as 'very readable' and 'thoroughly researched'. 

It was absolutely fascinating to research and write this book, and I hope you will enjoy reading it. 

Sunday, 4 September 2016

24 September 2016: An Evening with the Authors

Madeglobal Contact Form

An exciting event will be taking place in London on Saturday 24 September 2016. Made Global Publishing are hosting "An Evening with the Authors" at the Venue in Malet Street. Not only can you meet a wide range of authors who will be discussing their latest research and projects, but you can discuss publishing your work with Made Global Publishing. This event, therefore, is perfect for aspiring authors, particularly those writing history or historical fiction. Made Global Publishing, however, are also branching out and authors writing modern fiction are welcome to get involved.

There will be a professional photographer, breakout question and answer panels, and a bar available. For those unable to attend the event, it will be live streamed, with an opportunity to ask questions. However, if you live in the UK then definitely consider coming down for the day, it really is a once-in-a-lifetime event.

In all, nineteen authors will be involved. They are: myself, Adrienne Dillard, Alan Wybrow, Amy Licence, Beth von Staats, Clare Cherry, Claire Ridgway, Derek Wilson, Gareth Russell, Heather Darsie, Hunter S. Jones, Jane Moulder, Kirsteen Thomson, Kyra Kramer, Melanie V. Taylor, Philip Roberts, Sandra Vasoli, Sarah Bryson, Samantha Morris, and Toni Mount; as well as Made Global's CEO, Tim Ridgway. The authors have, between them, covered a wide range of topics relating to the medieval and Tudor era, including Henry VIII and his court; George Boleyn; Katherine Howard; the Borgias; Anne Boleyn; Thomas Cranmer; Edward VI; and Katherine Carey. Moreover, topics will also include Tudor art; palace architecture; historical fiction; and a live performance of Tudor music. There really is something for everyone.

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Above (from left): Edward VI; the Borgias; Whitehall Palace; Nicholas Hilliard; the Wars of the Roses; and Henry VIII and his wives are some of the topics that will be discussed.

Tickets are still available and can be purchased here. The event will begin at 7.30pm and is expected to finish around 10.30pm. You won't regret buying a ticket!

Friday, 12 August 2016

Uncrowned Consorts 1066-1558



After the Norman Conquest of 1066, it became customary for the king's consort to be crowned, either alongside him or at a later date. In Anglo-Saxon England, it had not been usual for the queen to be crowned. However, William the Conqueror signalled a break with the past when he assented to the coronation of his wife, Matilda of Flanders, alongside him on Christmas Day 1066. Thereafter, the wife of the king was usually honoured with a coronation. 

As J. L. Laynesmith notes, the medieval coronation enhanced the quasi-religious nature of the royal dynasty and manifested a 'dynasty-bound divine right'. It conveyed divine favour while promising prosperity for the dynasty, provided that the king and his consort obey God's laws and govern their people equitably and justly. For the queen consort, the coronation was concerned with her role as an integral part of her husband's public body. Thus the coronation, as Laynesmith suggests, offered the consort 'a richer sense of her divinely ordained role'. 

Given that the majority of English queens in the period 1066-1558 were foreign-born, it was customary for the consort to be crowned after her arrival in England and subsequent marriage to the king. Indeed, no Englishwoman was crowned queen until Elizabeth Wydeville in 1465. The coronation, from the consort's perspective, functioned as a celebration of the ruling king's dynasty and more broadly demonstrated the wealth and magnificence of the realm which she had arrived in. 

However, not all consorts in the five hundred years after the Conquest were crowned, for a variety of reasons. These were complex in nature and included political troubles, financial difficulties, and domestic insurrection or rebellion that prevented the king from dedicating the time and expenses required to furnish his consort with a coronation. Whether or not a lack of coronation affected the consort's claim to legitimacy is a significant question that cannot always be answered straightforwardly, but it will be seen that at least in some cases, the consort felt slighted by the absence of this ceremony.

Margaret of France, second consort of Edward I
(1279-1318), consort 1299-1307



Margaret of France was the second wife of Edward I of England (1239-1307) and married the sixty-year-old on 8 September 1299 in Canterbury. The king's first wife, the beloved Eleanor of Castile, had died in 1290. Edward was desirous of achieving peace with France, which would enable him to more effectively pursue his wars with Scotland (France's traditional ally). It was agreed that Edward's son and namesake would marry Isabella, daughter of Philip IV of France, while the English king himself would marry Philip's sister, Margaret. The new queen was never crowned, although she did appear on public occasions wearing a crown and used the royal title in letters and documents. Margaret was queen for a short period, but she enjoyed some success in intercession and is credited with maintaining stable relations between her husband and her stepson (the future Edward II). Margaret was also revered for her piety and favoured the Franciscan order. She also fulfilled the queen's primary duty by giving birth to two sons: Thomas of Brotherton and Edmund of Woodstock (the latter was executed during the reign of his nephew, Edward III). Margaret died in 1318, aged about thirty-nine. She was the first uncrowned consort since the Norman Conquest, and was queen for less than eight years, but she enjoyed notable successes. 

Isabelle of France, second consort of Richard II
(1389-1409), consort 1396-1399


Traditionally, Richard II's second consort is said to have been crowned on or about 8 January 1397, but unusually, there is no extant evidence of the coronation festivities. If her coronation did take place, it must have been very low-key and this may partly be because of the hostility generated by Richard's choice of bride. The new queen was only seven years old and would be unable to bear children for some years to come. Given the uneasy political climate, it could be said that Richard had not chosen particularly wisely, although the marriage was designed to cement peaceful relations between England and France. If the coronation took place, it was apparently unworthy of being recorded for posterity; some historians doubt whether it actually took place. If it did not, Isabelle was only the second consort in over three hundred years not to be honoured with a coronation. 

Henry VIII's consorts (1536-1547)

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After his failed marriages to Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn, Henry VIII elected not to honour any of his subsequent four wives with a coronation. In two cases, evidence suggests that coronation festivities were planned but did not take place. Jane Seymour, his third consort, most likely would have been crowned had she lived after giving birth to her only son, the future Edward VI. Court observers reported that the king wished for Jane to be crowned in October 1536, six months after her marriage, but rumours of plague alongside insurrection in the north of England prevented the ceremony from taking place. The coronation could, and did, celebrate the queen's fertility, thus legitimising the king's dynasty. Had Jane survived the birth of Edward in October 1537, it seems reasonable to suppose that her grateful husband would have arranged for her coronation, but her unexpected death prevented this from coming to fruition. 

Henry's belief that Anne of Cleves was not his wife prevented her from receiving a coronation, while his final consort, Katherine Parr, was not favoured with a coronation for reasons that remain unclear. However, it is possible that Henry did consider crowning his fifth wife, Katherine Howard. The royal couple departed on a northern progress in the summer of 1541, partly because Henry was determined to ensure the north's obedience to him following recent rebellion in the area, and partly because he hoped to meet his nephew, James of Scotland, at York. One ambassador reported that Henry intended to have Katherine crowned at York, which would have marked a break with the past given that both Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn, not to mention the medieval consorts, had been crowned in London. The coronation did not take place, perhaps because Henry was waiting for his consort to provide him with an heir. She did not, of course, and her execution the following year prevented her from being crowned.

Guildford Dudley, consort of Jane 
(c. 1537/8-1554), consort 1553


Whether Lady Jane Grey should in truth be referred to as Queen Jane I of England continues to be disputed by modern historians, but if she was rightful queen, as Eric Ives argues, then her husband Guildford Dudley should be viewed as her consort. Guildford, who was probably younger than his wife, most likely would have been crowned alongside his wife had Mary Tudor not successfully seized the crown from Jane and had the young couple imprisoned in the Tower of London. Contrary to popular belief, there is no evidence of animosity or dislike between Jane and Guildford and the young noblewoman continued to refer to herself as Lady Jane Dudley even while imprisoned. When Guildford requested to see Jane before their executions on 12 February 1554, Jane refused because the sight of one another would 'increase the misery in both, and bring much more suffering'. Fifteen or sixteen when he was beheaded, Guildford Dudley was the first male consort since Geoffrey of Anjou, husband of the Empress Matilda.

Philip II of Spain, consort of Mary
(1527-1598), consort 1554-1558

Portrait of King Philip II of Spain, in Gold-Embroidered Costume with Order of the Golden Fleece.jpg

Mary I's husband, Philip II of Spain, was never crowned. It is clear that he personally resented his wife's decision not to arrange for his coronation, because it confirmed that his wife took precedence at least in governing England. This absence of a coronation was part of a broader curtailing of Philip's powers and influence in Mary's realm. Philip was made king by an Act of Parliament stipulating that he 'shall aid her Highness... in the happy administration of her Grace's realms and dominions'. It is possible that the decision not to crown Philip was at least partly a result of the widespread antipathy to Mary's choice of a husband who was both Catholic and Spanish. 



In the period 1066-1558, the consort expected to be crowned alongside her husband (or more rarely, his wife). It was unusual for the consort not to be honoured with a coronation and usually, if the ceremony did not take place, it was due to extraordinary circumstances. These circumstances included political troubles, as in the case of Philip II; domestic insurrection and rebellion, as Jane Seymour and Guildford Dudley discovered, the latter being deposed alongside his wife; and the king's decision to wait for his consort to prove her fertility, as occurred with Henry VIII's later consorts. In the case of Margaret of France, it is unknown why her husband neglected to provide her with a coronation, although evidence suggests that she appeared wearing a crown on public occasions, a privilege denied to the other uncrowned consorts. Whether the consort accepted the absence of a crowning or not depended on their personality. No evidence survives for how Henry's later consorts felt, or perhaps Isabelle of France. Nor do we know whether Guildford Dudley minded, but given that his wife was also not crowned before she was deposed, it is unlikely that he had much say in the matter. But evidence suggests that Philip resented what he perceived as the curtailing of his rights in England; the absence of a coronation confirmed his supplication to Mary, at least in her own realm.

Friday, 17 June 2016

Queenship and Witchcraft: Joan of Navarre

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In 1437, a week ago today, Queen Joan of Navarre died in London at the age of about sixty-six. Joan is one of the lesser known medieval queens of England and her controversial reputation is founded on the accusations of witchcraft that were levied against her by her stepson, Henry V. This neglect of Joan is unfortunate, because in reality she was one of the most intelligent, politically astute and capable consorts. Recently, I undertook research into Joan's life and discovered that there was a great deal more to her story than the rumours of sorcery that blackened her name.

Born around 1370 in Pamplona, Navarre, Joan married her first husband while still a teenager, in 1386. Her husband was John IV, duke of Brittany. The marriage appears to have been successful and the couple had nine children together. As duchess of Brittany, Joan participated in the ceremonies of court and she is known to have interceded for individuals who displeased her mercurial husband, including Clisson, constable of France. In her activities, Joan conformed entirely to contemporary expectations of how a noblewoman should behave. She fulfilled the roles of mother, wife, intercessor and patron. Her interest in court ceremonial, moreover, indicates that she was both cultured and artistic. 

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Above left: John IV, duke of Brittany, Joan's first husband. 
Above right: Henry IV of England, Joan's second husband. 

In 1399, when Joan was around the age of twenty-nine, her husband died. She chose not to remarry immediately after her husband's death and instead fulfilled the role of regent for her son, John V, during his minority. It was during this period that Joan clearly emerges as a politically astute, capable and wise ruler. In 1403, she remarried. Her second husband was Henry IV of England. By marrying Henry, Joan placed herself in an ambiguous position, for her husband was a usurper. As with the later consorts Elizabeth Wydeville and Anne Neville, whose husbands also unlawfully usurped the throne, Joan was required to legitimise her husband's claim to the throne. Rumours circulated that there had been long-standing affection between Henry and Joan, and it is possible that their marriage was a love match.

However, Henry also demonstrated shrewdness in selecting Joan to be his consort. She was highly experienced in the affairs of government, intelligent and pragmatic. Moreover, in bearing her first husband nine children, she was clearly fertile, which was undoubtedly important for a medieval king whose claim to the throne was not fully secure. Unfortunately, during their ten-year marriage Joan did not bear Henry an heir, although it is possible that she experienced stillbirths. Fortunately, the queen enjoyed excellent relations with her stepchildren, including her husband's son Henry. 

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Above: Henry V, Joan's stepson.

Henry IV's death, however, changed Joan's life. Financially straitened, the new king, Henry V, accused Joan of witchcraft in a ruthless attempt to seize her lands and income with which to finance his foreign wars. As a highborn woman, Joan was vulnerable to accusations that were usually gender specific: namely witchcraft, sorcery and adultery. Other medieval noblewomen suffered from similarly ignominious accusations: both Eleanor Cobham, duchess of Gloucester, and Jacquetta, duchess of Bedford, were accused of witchcraft. There is no surviving evidence that Joan ever engaged in activities associated with witchcraft, and it is surely significant that she was later restored to favour.

During her imprisonment, Joan resided at Pevensey Castle and later at Nottingham Castle. Her stepson died in 1422 and was succeeded by his only son, Henry VI. Joan died on 10 June 1437, the same year in which her successor, Katherine of Valois, also died. As with many medieval queens, there is a lack of evidence concerning Joan's life and her experiences as queen. However, she seems to have enjoyed success during her husband's reign, but his death placed her in an ambiguous position, for she had borne him no children and thus was unable to exert influence in the politics of her stepson's reign. With no-one to support her interests, she was vulnerable to the whims of Henry V and was humiliated when he seized her income to finance his wars on the Continent. Although she died in obscurity, Joan of Navarre emerges as a politically astute, intelligent and influential consort, whose eventual fate bears witness to the dangers faced by highborn women in the Middle Ages. 

Monday, 27 April 2015

Herstory and the Explosion of Interest in England's Ruling Women




In recent years, there has been an explosion of interest in the lives of England's medieval and early modern queens. Popular historians in particular have become fascinated by the extraordinary lives of these women. The majority of attention has focused on the late Middle Ages and the Tudor era. Countless books are published every year detailing the lives of these magnetic, captivating women. 

What is to account for these trends? What makes one woman particularly fascinating to biographers, at any point in time? Where does the desire to recover her history - 'herstory', as it has been termed - come from? Why are we so fascinated by these women, and why are readers lapping up biographies of medieval queens like there's no tomorrow?

The simple answer is because their lives are interesting in and of themselves. The more complex answer is because their lives were forgotten for centuries, swept away as if they had never existed. These women, even queens, were confined to the footnotes of history, dismissed in a sentence and remembered only if they contributed to their husband's achievements. If they were not forgotten, they were misrepresented. They were slandered, their names dragged through the mud. Consider the infamous tale of Eleanor of Aquitaine, in a fit of jealous rage, murdering her beautiful rival Rosamund Clifford by poison. Or the story of Elizabeth Wydeville and her mother greedily extorting their rights to queen's gold. Or the legend of Isabella of Angouleme living in open adultery with her lovers, causing her vicious husband King John to brutally murder them in revolting fashion.

If these women were not condemned, they were sanctified in hagiographical works. They were celebrated as passive beings who caused no trouble, satisfying the whims of their husbands and living quietly and gently. Jane Seymour was idealised as a pious, motherly wife who provided Henry VIII with his heart's desire. Anne of Bohemia is remembered only for her gracious acts of intercession. For centuries, Katherine of Aragon was viewed as nothing short of a saint, the very embodiment of virtuous womanhood. 

In more recent times, we as historians have become aware of how simplistic and misleading these characterisations are. We recognise that these women were complex beings; they were human. They were neither saints nor sinners, neither whores nor angels. We seek to uncover their stories respectfully, admiring  their achievements, celebrating their lives and respecting their decisions. In short, historians are taking advantage of developments in the study of history to present these women more truthfully than ever before. 

As a biographer of Katherine Howard, with a keen interest in the lives of medieval and early modern women, I eagerly await new studies. Having spent a number of years researching Katherine (and I continue to hope to devote more time to her life), I anticipate with pleasure upcoming biographies of her by Gareth Russell and Josephine Wilkinson. Katherine was, for centuries, the most neglected of Henry VIII's queens. Historians were not particularly interested in her. Lacey Baldwin Smith's biography of Katherine, published in 1961, remained the standard work for decades. There have since been only three published biographies of Katherine: Joanna Denny's of 2005; David Loades' of 2012; and my own. 

I am not sure why historians are suddenly interested in Katherine. Perhaps they are more aware than ever of how inadequate most of the studies about her have been. Perhaps, in the light of the rehabilitation of Anne Boleyn's reputation, and the publication of impressive studies detailing the considerable achievements of Katherine of Aragon and Katherine Parr, it has been acknowledged that Katherine Howard deserves to be better known and celebrated for her own achievements. New found interest in her is surely to be welcomed. 

Yet other women deserve the attention of historians, for they remain forgotten. If they are remembered, it is mostly negatively. Isabella of Angouleme, Isabella of France, and Margaret of Anjou are three powerful, well known women who continue to be misrepresented and slandered,  their lives distorted. Jacquetta of Luxembourg, mother of Queen Elizabeth Wydeville, was an acknowledged woman in her own lifetime, and yet there has been no biography of her. Philippa of Hainault, Joan of Navarre and Catherine de Valois are queens of England that have still not acquired biographies in their own right. There has been exceptionally little attention given to Isabel Neville, elder sister of Queen Anne. Nor has there been for other highborn women in England who were not queens of England, but were nonetheless important. Alice Perrers, Katherine Swynford and Elizabeth Shore are women who deserve to be re-examined.

The expansion of 'herstories' is an immensely positive achievement. Let us hope the field continues to expand and develop. We need to learn more about these incredible women. We should endeavour to reinterpret their lives and re-examine the myths about them. Celebrating their achievements and respecting their experiences is essential to uncovering the full story of English history.

Saturday, 26 July 2014

The Empress Matilda: England's First 'She-Wolf'?


Above: Empress Matilda could, perhaps, have been England's first queen regnant.

Medieval England experienced some spectacular rulers, both male and female. This was an age, in particular, of extraordinary and resourceful women: consider Eleanor of Aquitaine, queen of Henry II, who continued shaping government policy, escorting brides across Europe, and leading armies well into her seventies. Isabella of France, wife of Edward II, launched an invasion against her ineffectual husband alongside her lover, deposed the king, and was possibly involved in his later murder. Then there was Margaret of Anjou, who courageously took hold of the reins of government when her saintly if unassuming husband Henry VI fell into madness, and took a spirited and energetic role of leadership in the conflict known as the Wars of the Roses, so vividly depicted in the works of Shakespeare. Elizabeth Woodville was another courageous and strong-willed queen who fought for the Yorkist inheritance during the Wars of the Roses and was every bit as formidable as her adversary Margaret. All of these women have, to differing degrees, been remembered as 'she-wolves': powerful, determined women who seized the reins of power seen as correctly belonging to their husbands, defying contemporary expectations of females as weak, gentle and submissive beings.

But none of these women, with the exception, perhaps, of Margaret, has endured so negative a reputation as that of the Empress Matilda, daughter and heir of Henry I of England, and 'Lady of England'. Indeed, this spirited and determined woman could have, had circumstances gone her way, been England's first queen regnant, rather than the teenaged Lady Jane Grey enjoying that honour over four hundred years later, in 1553. Contemporary chroniclers and modern historians alike have remembered Matilda as a feisty, 'haughty' and arrogant woman who alienated her followers and provoked loathing in the citizens of London when she attempted to claim the crown she viewed as rightfully hers following her father's death. Yet, as historian Helen Castor compellingly suggests, such negative characterisations of Matilda 'were never used to describe any male member of her fearsomely domineering family; and they do not fit well with what we know of Matilda in the decades before and after that brief moment in 1141'. So who, then, was this fascinating and complex woman, a daughter, mother and wife of kings, who fought tenaciously but ill-fatedly to become the first queen regnant of England in the twelfth century?

 
Above: Twelfth-century portrayal of the wedding feast of Matilda and her first husband, Emperor Heinrich V of Germany.

Matilda was born in February 1102 at Sutton Courtenay in Oxfordshire as the eldest child, to Henry I, king of England and duke of Normandy, and his pious, beautiful wife Matilda of Scotland. Later, a son was born, William Adelin, who died in 1120 aged seventeen in a tragic incident involving the White Ship. Her brother's premature end was to have momentous consequences for Matilda's subsequent career. Her father also had twenty-two illegitimate children by other women. In 1108/9, when Matilda was around six years old, the German emperor sued for her hand in marriage, an attractive prospect to King Henry because it would bolster the prestige of the crown as well as strengthening England's links with the most preeminent European power. In a sense, it was the most successful marriage he could have achieved for his young daughter. Aged only eight years old, Matilda left England for Germany in February 1110.

The couple met at Liege before voyaging to Utrecht in the Netherlands where they were formally betrothed in April 1110. Three months later, Matilda was crowned Queen of the Romans at Mainz, and became known thereafter as the 'Empress Matilda', a lavish and supremely regal title and position that represented a considerable achievement for an eight-year old girl. Although she was some sixteen years younger than her twenty-four year old husband, it was to prove a successful and prosperous marriage. Matilda was educated in the customs, manners and culture of her new domains. In 1114, she was actually married to her husband, for twelve was the minimum age at which a female could marry. 

Matilda was widely praised in these years, with no hint of the later abuse and hostility that would be directed toward her by her future English subjects. An anonymous chronicler at the German court described his Empress thus: 'a girl of noble character', 'distinguished and beautiful, who was held to bring glory and honour to both the Roman Empire and the English realm'. Orderic Vitalis tells us that Emperor Heinrich loved his new wife dearly, and so graceful, gentle and dignified in her queenly duties would Matilda be that her German subjects immortalised her as 'the good Matilda'. In these early years, she was hardly the 'she-wolf' later disparaged by hostile chroniclers. 

It cannot be doubted that Matilda was both a dedicated wife and a successful queen. In 1118-9, for example, she sat in judgement at a court at Castrocaro near Ravenna, over the competing claims between a bishop and an abbey from Forli and Faenza over a local church. The Empress eventually decided in favour of the abbey. Shortly afterwards, Matilda's younger brother and heir to the English throne, William, died in the White Ship tragedy in November 1120. At eighteen years old, Matilda was now her father's heir.

Picture of the White Ship sinking
Above: A fourteenth-century presentation of the White Ship disaster in the winter of 1120.

While Matilda's marriage to the Emperor was in many ways a success, she failed to fulfil the vital requirement of her position by bearing her husband sons. Why no children were born to the royal couple remains something of a mystery. Neither were considered by contemporaries to be infertile, although it has been speculated that those at the time believed that the Emperor's sins against the Church were to account for the couple's childlessness. Heinrich eventually died of cancer in 1125, leaving his wife, still only twenty-three years of age, a widow. Matilda was now transformed into the most glittering of prizes, heiress as she was to the crown of England. Although Matilda was later besieged with offers of marriage from numerous German princes, she refused all of them, before departing for her homeland, England.

In the meantime, Matilda's father Henry I had remarried, following the death of the revered Matilda of Scotland in 1118. His new bride was Adeliza of Louvain, a year younger than her new stepdaughter the Empress. However, the royal couple did not have any children; meaning that, theoretically, Matilda remained her father's heir and successor to the English crown. If she succeeded, she would be England's first queen regnant. Henry formally acknowledged his daughter's unique position. At Christmas 1126, he ordered his barons to publicly recognise his daughter as heir to the throne, which they did the following January. 

Picture of Geoffrey of Anjou
Above: A man Matilda did not wish to marry: her second husband, Geoffrey of Anjou.

Although Henry I was, apparently, determined that his daughter Matilda should become England's next ruler in the wake of his death, this did not prevent him seeking a new husband for his twenty-five year old heir. In order to secure the southern borders of Normandy, he eventually arranged for her to marry the teenaged Geoffrey of Anjou, son and heir of Count Foulques. Nicknamed le Bel ('the Fair'), Matilda's prospective spouse was gorgeous, beautifully costumed and only fifteen years old. His face was said to glow 'like the flower of a lily, with rosy flush'. Despite his elegant charm and striking appearance, Matilda was decidedly unimpressed. This strong-willed, energetic and intelligent woman was not to be swayed by mere good looks and charm, and may have found the idea of a younger husband distinctly unappealing. Certainly, her reaction suggests this. Matilda was proud, and believed that marrying the son of a mere count served to diminish, even disparage, her status. The Archbishop of Tours, Hildebert, admonished her in letters and begged her to forgo her disobedience. Eventually, she reluctantly and unhappily agreed. So began a turbulent marriage.

Further difficulties were caused when Matilda's dowry was disputed. It was not specified when she would be able to inhabit the castles granted her in Normandy. It is perhaps instructive that soon after her marriage, the Empress returned to Normandy. In 1131, after a separation, the couple were finally reconciled, and if it had not been earlier, the marriage was consummated. Matilda proved a fertile bride (after her childless years with Emperor Heinrich); bearing her second husband three sons: Henry (who later became Henry II of England); Geoffrey (later Count of Nantes), and William (later Count of Poitou).

Picture of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitain
Above: A twelfth-century image of Matilda's eldest son, Henry, and his wife Eleanor of Aquitaine, as king and queen of England.

Everything changed in December 1135 when the king of England died. Matilda, now thirty-three, was set to become England's first female ruler, by virtue of her position as Henry's legal heir. Yet there had been difficulties in the previous years. She had experienced strained relations with her father, who perhaps feared her husband's desire to acquire more power in Normandy. Controversy surrounds Henry's plans for the succession on his deathbed. Sources favourable to the Empress confirmed that Henry reaffirmed his intent that she should succeed him, but hostile texts alleged that he had retracted his promise and had apologised to his barons for forcing them unwillingly to swear an oath of allegiance to his daughter.

Matilda's position gravely weakened her cause even before it had begun, for she was residing in Anjou with her husband when news reached her that her father had died. Matilda was by now pregnant for the third time, and it has been credibly suggested that her condition could have prevented her returning to England considerably sooner than she did. Stephen of Blois, Matilda's cousin, reacted in exactly the opposite manner. Dwelling in Boulogne, the count immediately left for England, determined to claim the crown. He had been close to the dead king, and it has been argued that his sex and proximity made him a more appealing monarch than his female cousin, who was not even in the country. On 26 December 1135, Stephen was crowned King of England. He had taken his opportunities, whereas Matilda had not.

Stepan Blois.jpg
Above: Stephen of Blois, king of England.

In July 1136, Matilda delivered her third son, William, at Argentan. How she reacted with news of Stephen's accession is unknown, but she must have been shocked and appalled, at the very least. She may have beseeched the Bishop of Angers to garner support for her claim to the throne with the Pope but if she did, the Bishop was unsuccessful in doing so. Disputes and conflict continued in Normandy between the English king and Matilda, although a truce was later agreed between Stephen and Geoffrey.

Matilda's cause was immeasurably strengthened when her half-brother, Robert of Gloucester, decided to support her, promising her forces. In 1138, he had rebelled against the English king, thus instigating a civil war that was set to last for years. Geoffrey of Anjou took advantage of unrest and rebellion in England by reinvading Normandy. At the same time, King David of Scotland invaded the north of England, and promised support to the Empress simultaneously. Although Stephen travelled both north and west to quell disorder, and to some extent was successful in doing so, Matilda invaded in the summer of 1139, determined to attain the throne she believed was rightfully hers. So began what historians term 'the Anarchy'.

The former queen and stepmother to Matilda, Adeliza, in some ways instigated the rebellion by inviting her stepdaughter to land at Arundel Castle, on the south coast. In September, Matilda arrived with Robert with a force of 140 knights, and Matilda promptly departed for Arundel Castle while Robert headed northwest to Wallingford and Bristol, where he met Miles of Gloucester, the Constable of England who now supported the Empress. Stephen besieged the castle, trapping Matilda inside. Later, she was released, for unknown reasons.

Helen Castor has suggested that Matilda's sex strengthened her cause in that Stephen refused to face her in battle. The next few years saw protracted truces, armed rebellions, and heavy conflict, most notably the Battle of Lincoln in February 1141 which saw the defeat of King Stephen. He was later taken into custody by Robert of Gloucester. Matilda faced him triumphantly in person and incarcerated him in Bristol Castle. She then took steps to crown herself Queen of England, until now having been known as the 'Lady of England'. Stephen's brother and former enemy of the Empress, Bishop Henry, now renounced his support for his brother and defected to Matilda's side, in exchange for her promise that she would allow him control over Church affairs. 

In Winchester at Easter 1141, Matilda was declared 'Lady of England and Normandy' by the assembled clergy, in what seems to have been a precursor to her coronation as queen regnant. The Empress then headed to London, but her position quickly became notably precarious. Forces loyal to Stephen and his wife remained close, and the citizens were visibly fearful about letting Matilda into the city. On 24 June, the city rose up against her. Matilda fled to Oxford just in the nick of time.

Most historians have suggested that it was Matilda's 'haughty', 'arrogant' temperament that so alienated the Londoners, that accounts for her ultimate failure to seize the crown. Henry of Huntingdon wrote that 'she was lifted up into an insufferable arrogance' and 'she alienated the hearts of almost everyone'. Yet, Helen Castor offers a more credible explanation of Matilda's difficulties given the uniqueness of her position and the difficulties she faced:

The truth of the matter was that Matilda found herself trapped. She urgently needed to show that she was a credible ruler... But when she sought to emulate her formidable father and her first husband, the two great kings whose rule she knew best, she encountered not awestruck obedience, but resentment of a 'haughtiness and insolence' that was deemed unnatural and unfeminine.

In a sense, then, it was Matilda's sex rather than necessarily her personal qualities which defeated her and rendered her unacceptable to her subjects. A female ruler was simply not an attractive prospect for the English. Like later queens Isabella of France and Margaret of Anjou, when Matilda tried to take the initiative and proactively shape policy, she was condemned and vilified for being 'manly', unfeminine, cruel, avaricious, arrogant and disdainful - all qualities viewed as the exact opposite of what a woman should be.


Above: Matilda's eldest son, Henry II of England.

Because of this, Matilda never did become queen of England. Her initiative and determined attempts to take the crown were ultimately unsuccessful, in no small part influenced by the deaths of her most notable supporters, including Robert of Gloucester, in the late 1140s. However, her ambition was realised when Stephen accepted her eldest son, Henry, as his successor. He had taken a leading role in the later years of the civil war, reaching England in 1142 from the continent, before returning to Anjou two years later. The English Church supported Henry's claims to the English throne, as did Stephen's nobles and Louis VII of France, for the nobles were weary and disillusioned after years of bloody civil war, disorder and unrest. They wanted peace, and this was promised in the figure of the charismatic, resourceful and determined Henry. 

Matilda lived to see Henry's succession and supported him energetically and faithfully, often acting as her son's representative in Normandy, where she now resided, and presiding over the Duchy's government. Like her daughter-in-law Eleanor of Aquitaine, Matilda remained fully involved well into old age. She was later involved in attempts at mediation between the king and the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket. Matilda became increasingly pious during her later years, although one chronicler of Mont St. Jacques described her in her old age as 'of the stock of tyrants'. On 10 September 1167, aged sixty-five, the former Empress and 'Lady of England' died, and she was buried at the abbey of Bec-Hellouin under the high altar. Her tomb's epitaph included the lines: 'Great by birth, greater by marriage, greatest in her offspring: here lies Matilda, the daughter, wife, and mother of Henry'. Clearly, as were all women during this period in a patriarchal world, Matilda's life was remembered according to the role she had played in the lives of her male relatives. She was remembered for being a daughter, mother, and wife, rather than for being herself.

Or so it seemed. Most commentators, beginning in her lifetime and extending well into the present day, have instead focused on her apparently haughty, arrogant, even tyrannical nature, which supposedly doomed her attempts to take the crown of England and become its first ruling queen regnant. Yet scholars such as Helen Castor and Fiona Tolhurst have convincingly drawn attention to the fact that Matilda was criticised and disparaged for qualities that were revered and admired in men but found shocking and unacceptable in women: bravery, resourcefulness, determination, courage, ambition and drive. Had Matilda been a man, she would have been admired and celebrated, but her status as a woman condemned her as an 'unnatural' and 'unfeminine' virago who caused misery, discord and conflict in England, alienating all who met her. It is time for her reputation to be amended. She was ultimately extremely successful, not in becoming the first queen regnant of England in her own right, but by ensuring that, by virtue of who she was, her son Henry would become England's king following the death of her great rival and cousin, Stephen.

Picture of the Empress Matilda's Great Seal
Above: Matilda.

Thursday, 2 January 2014

'The Good Old Days': Rebellions and Nostalgia

‘The Good old Days’: Rebellions & Nostalgia

There’s something funny about rebellions in history and the feelings of nostalgia central to them. Take the Peasants Revolt of 1381 (pictured above), led by Wat Tyler in opposition to political and social grievances, economic problems resulting from heavy taxation, and instability in local leadership. The rebels (who weren’t even peasants, mostly) tried to justify their uprisings by claiming that they weren’t angry with the king himself, but were merely hostile to his advisers and law enforcers. They desired, they insisted, a return to “the good old days”, when serfs and lords were equal, instead of lords ruthlessly oppressing serfs economically and politically. Take the infamous rhyme which was ubiquitous during these events: “when Adam delved and Eve span, who was then a gentleman?” (ie. in the Garden of Eden, everyone was created equally – there were no such things as lords, serfs, and nobles).

But it was very ironic that these rebels looked ideally back to a golden past in which, or so they believed, social equality was respected, and lords and serfs worked peacefully together. Oppression and inequality were unknown. But the historical facts relating to medieval England don’t bear this out. Many modern historians, for instance, suggest that the conditions of serfdom were actually better in the fourteenth century, compared with the harsher preceding centuries. Proving that this misguided belief wasn’t just a one-off in the dire climate of 1381, insurgents in the 1549 Prayer Book Rebellion in southwest England demanded the deaths of gentlemen who they felt to be unlawfully oppressing them. Nostalgia for the not-so-distant past was present in a religious sense, for the rebels desired a return to the conservative ceremonies and practices of Henry VIII’s church.


Of course, nostalgic desire for the good old days surfaces not just in rebellions but in many other contexts. Medieval historians have suggested that women across Europe may have experienced a 'golden age' in terms of both living and working conditions, enjoying a degree of freedom harshly restricted in the early modern period. But specific to this article is rebellions and the feelings they produce of nostalgia and hatred of present day life as it stands. Rebels in both the 1381 and 1549 risings were deluded in thinking that the ‘good old days’ were infinitely better than they were at the time of the rebellions, but they can surely be forgiven for wishing to escape what may have seemed to them a life not worth living.

Tuesday, 26 March 2013

England's Worst King in the Medieval Period


Above: Henry VI (reigned 1422-1470), Stephen (reigned 1135-1154), Richard II (reigned 1377-1399)

The last few weeks, reading studies on late medieval English monarchs roughly in the period after the Norman Conquest up until the fifteenth century, have left me grappling with the fascinating and highly debated issue: who was England's worst medieval king? This article will look at arguably the prime contenders for this dubious title in the period 1066-1483.
Of course, not all English kings will be considered here, since the likes of Henry II, Edward III and Henry V are widely recognised to have been comparatively successful monarchs in medieval England. The prime contenders will each be discussed in turn, beginning with William Rufus.

William Rufus (c.1060-1100), reigned 1087-1000

William Rufus, also known as William II of England, reigned for thirteen years in the period 1087-1100, following the death of his highly successful father William the Conqueror. The third son of William the Conqueror and Matilda of Flanders, William Rufus can arguably be considered one of, if not England's worst, medieval king, because of his unfavourable temperament, his dubious policies and his notorious reign. Described by the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle as 'hateful to almost all his people and odious to God', his struggles with the Church in his reign would make him notorious amongst contemporary chroniclers.

William never married, and as the third son of King William could never realistically have hoped to attain the throne of England. However, circumstances dramatically changed this in 1067 following the death of his father. At the age of about 27, William sailed to England from Tonques and was crowned in September 1087. He was described by William of Malmesbury as being 'well set, his complexion florid, his hair yellow; of open countenance; different coloured eyes; varying with certain glittering specks; of astonishing strength, though not tall, and his belly rather projecting'. Frank Barlow describes him on the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography as being at the time of his accession 'a seasoned soldier and commander but with only a limited knowledge of England, and, although well acquainted with his father's ways, without experience of government'. William's reign was unstable the moment he commenced it, most notably in 1088 with the rebellion of the nobles who supported his elder brother Robert, the ruler of Normandy, in favour of uniting England and Normandy. Hostilities lasted up to six months. Luckily, Rufus' appeals to the English people and his attack of the rebels personally, taking Rochester Castle, allowed his success. Barlow rates Rufus' reaction to the rebellion 'shrewd'.

Notwithstanding this, the historian H.W.C. Davis of Oxford University, in his book England Under the Normans and Angevins 1066-1272, first published in 1905, is dismissive of Rufus, characterising him as 'so illiterate that he could not spell his way through an ordinary letter', he 'fought and squandered, leaving extortion to his clerks and judges'; he 'mounted the throne with little preparation and less fitness for that high position', criticising his policies towards the Church and his foreign policy during his reign. Certainly Rufus' long-standing conflict with Anselm of Canterbury made him notorious in a highly religious age, intensified when the archbishop went into exile in 1097. His failure to marry and sire a son, something expected of all kings in the medieval period, further gives impetus to the notion that he was something of a failure. The fact that Rufus faced continuous rebellions throughout his reign, including one from the Scottish King in 1091, further weakened his authority. Famous for his hot temper, monastic writers condemned his immorality, and there were even suggestions of homosexual behaviour, according to Barlow. This is strengthened, of course, by his failure to marry and sire an heir. His contentious relations with his brother Robert were not particularly helpful to his cause, although understandable in context. Killed in a hunting expedition in 1100, medieval commentators believed that Rufus' death was the act of a vengeful God against this blasphemer. Yet Barlow dismisses the notion that he could be seen as England's worst medieval king, writing: 'he had maintained good order and satisfactory justice in England and restored good peace to Normandy. He had extended Anglo-Norman rule in Wales, brought Scotland firmly under his lordship, recovered Maine, and kept up the pressure on the Vexin', suggesting that Rufus was 'a hero', even if he was lustful and 'a scandalous figure'.

Stephen (1092/6-1154), reigned 1135-1154.

Davis seems to rate King Stephen the worst medieval king in England's history, closing his account of Stephen's reign with the passage: 'Stephen did not die too soon... Too simple to anticipate intrigues, too scrupulous to destroy the root from which they sprang, too vacillating to crush them when they began to take effect, he failed alike in peace and war. Among all our medieval sovereigns none owed his title in so real a sense to the election of the nation; few showed themselves more incapable; none was a greater curse to the nation... his reign furnished a warning...' Are these claims fair, suggesting as they do that Stephen was England's worst medieval king?

Born in c1092/6, Stephen was a grandson of William the Conqueror and thus kinsman to William Rufus, the son of Stephen II Count of Blois and his wife Adela of Normandy. A powerful landholder in French provinces, Stephen married Matilda of Boulogne through the efforts of the English king Henry I in 1125, and thus became even more influential in northern Europe. Edmund King suggests that this marriage 'moved him to the centre of Anglo-Norman political life'. Henry I seems to have regarded Stephen, who was his nephew, as his successor at this time, but following the death of Henry's daughter Matilda's husband in 1125, the situation changed, and in 1127, having returned to England, Matilda was declared heir to the English throne. In 1135 the English king died, setting in place the events which would eventually lead to Stephen's succession. Davis, in a somewhat misogynistic fashion, claims that Stephen became king because 'on the death of Henry I there was hardly a man in his dominion who desired the accession of the Empress [Matilda]. Her sex, the arrogance of her temper, above all her Angevin marriage, were objections which in most minds overrode all scruples as to oaths and pledges'.

Stephen immediately came to England, and was received by the citizens as king, probably because of his comparative popularity in English society at this time. He was seen as being modest, easy-going, and gentle. Henry's death occurred at a difficult time: his daughter Matilda and her husband Geoffrey of Anjou were in Anjou, involved in a rebellion against the royal army, while Stephen's elder brother Theobald - who arguably had a better claim to the throne - was further away, in Blois. Yet like Rufus' reign, Stephen suffered a succession of rebellions during the early years of his reign which severely threatened his authority, notably from the Welsh in the 1130s. Matilda's husband Geoffrey also periodically invaded in this period, and many saw Matilda as the rightful ruler of England. Compounding this, the complex relations with the Church caused discontent, particularly when Stephen seized the lands of the dead Archbishop of Canterbury in 1136. Barons increasingly opposed the king, feeling that they had not been aptly rewarded for their loyalty. Foreign policy further threatened Stephen in this years.

The situation took a turn for the worse in 1139, when civil war in England occurred. Empress Matilda was invited by Henry I's consort Adeliza to stay with her at Arundel, and in September the former Empress and her half-brother Robert invaded England. Robert marched north, hoping to obtain support for their rebellion. But Stephen besieged Arundel, entrapping Matilda, showing a fierce determination to preserve his crown. The complex events of this years are difficult to explain in detail. But civil war severely undermined Stephen's kingship. In 1140, Stephen faced further revolts from former loyalists, such as Nigel bishop of Ely, who had become disaffected with Stephen's rule. The king, later captured by Robert, was imprisoned in Bristol Castle, and Matilda was proclaimed Lady of the English - in effect, England's first ruling female. However, the Londoners refused to crown Matilda, viewing her as haughty, and she was forced to flee to Oxford, thus offering some hope for Stephen. Stephen's queen, confusingly also named Matilda, played a central role in these events, generating sympathy for Stephen's cause. Stephen was eventually released following the Angevin defeat at Winchester. A stalemate occurred in the period 1143-1146, although Stephen faced further rebellions from dissatisfied barons such as from the Earl of Essex. By 1147 England had suffered severely from the 'Anarchy', and it was believed to be in a state of chaos and destruction. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle wrote that 'there was nothing but disturbance and wickedness and robbery'. Yet the death of Robert that year, and Matilda's flight the following year, changed the nature of the conflict. But Stephen's chaotic relations with the Church did not help matters, particularly conflict with the papacy.

The next few years saw Stephen maintaining peace with Matilda's son Henry, later Henry II, and he was later recognised as Stephen's heir following the death of his son Eustace. In 1154 Stephen died, and Henry II succeeded to the English throne. Edmund King depicts Stephen as a weak king, easily manipulated by his brother or wife, and Crouch has also been negative in relation to Stephen. Yet was he England's worst king? Arguably, yes - his reign was characterised by civil war, rebellions, dissatisfaction of the nobles, problems with the Church, and conflict-ridden foreign policy. Yet Stephen survived, and the throne passed in a peaceful manner to Henry following a series of truces. It remains to be seen whether Davis' critical assessment can be confirmed.

John (1166-1216), reigned 1199-1216.

Most famous for the Magna Carta (1215), John has a strong claim to being England's worst king. Historian Ralph Turner criticises his 'distasteful, even dangerous personality traits', which encompassed spitefulness, cruelty and pettiness. Famously, John has been presented as the arch villain in Robin Hood, particularly the Disney film of the same name.

John was born in 1199 as the ninth child, and sixth son, of Henry II of England and his infamous queen consort Eleanor of Aquitaine. Described as being red-haired, around 5'5 tall, and with a 'powerful, barrel-chested body', John's early life was engulfed by the rebellions led by his elder brothers Henry, Geoffrey and Richard (later Richard I) against their ageing father Henry II, John became increasingly influential, for instance being granted the estates of the Duchy of Cornwall in 1175. Following the death of his brother King Richard in 1199, John acceded to the English throne aged 33, having been supported by most of both the English and the Norman nobility against a pretender Arthur of Brittany. In 1200 John married Isabella of Angouleme, abandoning his first wife Isabel countess of Gloucester. This meant that warfare in Normandy recommenced. Complex events in Europe encompass this period, characterised perhaps most profoundly by the loss of Normandy in the period 1202-04. John's mother Eleanor was threatened by Arthur's forces, but John's forces were successful at the battle of Mirebeau. Yet John's power was not secure following this victory. John's local allies were deserted in 1203, and the pope was not successful in aiding John's cause. Arthur was probably murdered by John that year in an attempt to quash the unrest engulfing Europe and threatening John's stability.

In England, John's financial measures were not popular. He levied scutage payments eleven times in his reign, a much greater amount in his comparatively shorter reign compared with preceding English monarchs. Enormous sums were often charged in relation to relief payments when estates and castles were inherited. A new tax on income and movable goods in 1207 may also have caused resentment, although it was successful for the king in raising £60,000. Inflationary pressure and bad harvests, however, may have contributed to an increasingly resentful atmosphere. John, notoriously, was deeply suspicious of the barons at the English court, and numerous barons were subjected to John's malevolentia (royal ill-will), including William Marshal. William de Braose's wife and son were imprisoned by John following conflict between this baron and the king, and they eventually died. John was also criticised by chroniclers for being lustful and irreligious, heinous sins by the standards of the clerical writers. He had many mistresses and illegitimate children. Some even accused John of being an atheist.

All this was worsened by John's continental policy in the years 1204-14. A potential French invasion undermined England's security, worsened by increasing baronial unrest. John also became embroiled in a dispute with Pope Innocent III in 1205, leading notoriously to the king's excommunication, the worst penalty possibly levied by the papacy. This resulted from John's desire for John de Gray, bishop of Norwich, to be appointed Archbishop of Canterbury, but Reginald was favoured by the Canterbury Cathedral chapter. Stephen Langton was later made Archbishop, and John was furious, barring Langton from entering England and seizing the archbishopric's lands and papal possessions. Innocent, not surprisingly, placed an interdict on England in 1208. His anger intensified, John tried to punish Innocent personally and sought to create a conflict between the English clergy who supported him and those who favoured the pope. John was later excommunicated in 1209. A reconciliation finally occurred in 1213, but John's reputation must have suffered appallingly.

This was made worse by the barons' discontent; in 1212 there had even been a plot against the king. Following John's return from France in 1214, rebel barons in north and east England organised resistance to his rule, congregating at Northampton in May 1215 and renouncing their feudal ties to John, appointing Robert FitzWalter as their military leader in an entirely unprecedented action. This 'Army of God' shockingly marched on London, taking the capital as well as Lincoln and Exeter. John later met the rebel leaders at Runnymede in June, and a charter was later created, named Magna Carta. This promised new political reform, curtailing the powers of the king, promising the protection of church rights, protection from illegal imprisonment, access to justice, limitations on scrutage and other feudal payments, and new taxation only with the consent of the barons. Pope Innocent, having been contacted by the king, dismissed this document as 'illegal and unjust', excommunicating the rebels. The First Barons' War occurred shortly afterwards, following the failure of the agreement, and the first move was the seizure of Rochester Castle. In November John retook it, and while John was initially successful, by the end of the summer the rebels had regained southeast England and parts of the north. Attacking eastwards from London to Cambridge in September 1216, John later travelled to Lincoln and King's Lynn, but later contracted dysentery there, which proved fatal.  By this time John was seen to face a 'stalemate' and a possible defeat. His illness worsened, and he died in October.

While John was initially praised by medieval chroniclers, he was later criticised by later commentators. Kate Norgate, a Victorian historian, attacked 'his almost superhuman wickedness', although Whiggish scholars saw Magna Carta as essential in the economic and political progress of England during this period. Historians today suggest that John's vices and failures were wildly exaggerated by contemporaries, but agree that he was a failure. They recognise that he was hard-working and enjoyed notable successes, although Jim Bradbury suggests that modern historians are too lenient towards John. Thus, while it is not certain that John was England's worst medieval king, his reign was certainly characterised by conflict and controversy, and it cannot be seen as a success in any sense of the word.

Edward II (1284-1327), reigned 1307-1327. 

A recent popular history study of Edward II's notorious queen, infamously named the 'she-wolf of France', Isabella, suggests that Edward was 'a weak and vicious monarch'. Many probably see Edward II as England's worst ever king. Although he fathered five children by two children, he was widely rumoured to be bisexual or even homosexual, due to his notorious relationship with Piers Gaveston (later executed), although historians should remember that notions of alternative sexualities in the modern sense of the word only really came into being in the nineteenth century, not the fourteenth.

Edward was the fourth son and eleventh child of Edward I of England and his queen Eleanor of Castile. Following the death of his father in 1307, Edward acceded to the throne as king of England aged twenty-three, comparatively young for an English monarch. Edward recalled to court his friend Piers, who had been dismissed by Edward I due to the belief that he was not suitable company for Prince Edward, and he was made Earl of Cornwall soon after. Piers was also married to the king's niece Margaret of Gloucester, a clear sign of his favour towards the Gascon knight.

In 1308, Edward married Isabella of France, aged merely thirteen, and later demonised as a 'she-wolf' (other English queens, such as Aelgifu and Margaret of Anjou, also suffered this dubious epitaph). Renowned for her beauty, intelligence, and diplomatic and political competence, Isabella arrived in England at a time of increasing discontent between the king and the barons (similarly to John in a sense). Her husband was resented at court for the lavish influence and rewards he bestowed upon Piers, meaning that it is not surprising that hostile commentators interpreted this as signs of a homosexual relationship between the two. Some have suggested that Edward frequently neglected his young queen, perhaps provoking her hostility, and many historians have noted with sympathy her uncomfortable position as the wife of a king who indiscreetly favoured another man at court. These problems were compounded when Edward left Piers to serve as Regent of England in 1308 when he travelled to marry Isabella, and some barons in the Ordinances of 1311 insisted vocally that Piers be banished immediately from the kingdom, due to the troubles associated with his presence. Other concerns present in the Ordinances concerned fiscal reform, setbacks in the Anglo-Scottish war, and the king's personal incompetence. In 1312 the earl of Lancaster ordered Gaveston to be captured, and he was handed over to two Welshmen who promptly murdered him at Blacklow Hill. The king suffered profound grief over his favourite's execution, and he became increasingly fixated on revenge upon those who had instigated his friend's death. The earls of Lancaster, Warwick, Arundel and Hereford were later forced to seek Edward's pardon.

Whether or not Edward and Piers engaged in homosexual sex is unknown; chroniclers criticised the king's passion for 'wicked and forbidden sex' and saw the relationship as being 'excessive' and 'immoderate beyond measure'. The Meaux Chronicle later noted that the king 'took too much delight in sodomy'. Added together, this compellingly suggests that the two did have sexual relations. However, sodomy encompasses much broader sexual relations than merely homosexual sex, and so it's difficult to tell what was meant specifically. Both Edward and Piers had children in their marriages and some historians have suggested that the relationship between the two actually more closely resembled an 'adoptive brotherhood'. Anyway, King Edward's defeat in Scotland in 1314 further blackened his reputation, considered by contemporary historians to be the English's worst defeat since 1066. The increasing influence of the Despenser family at court provoked the hostility of the barons, and in 1321 Edward was forced to banish them due to increasing pressure from hostile earls at court. Yet the king's opponents came to be murdered in a bloodthirsty revenge enacted shortly afterwards, including the beheading of Lancaster in the king's presence.

In 1325, Queen Isabella returned to France following a disagreement between England and France over whether Edward should pay homage to the French king. She was able to escape the influential Despenser family and the king's families, whom she resented deeply - it's possible to regard her with sympathy, her position must have been almost impossible in these embarrassing years. Isabella declared that she would not return to England unless the Despensers were removed. Isabella fell in love with Roger Mortimer, earl of March, during her time in Paris and they decided to plot together to usurp the throne from Edward - hence the beginning of Isabella's notorious reputation as a 'she-wolf' and adulteress. Edward was betrayed by those formerly close to him, perhaps alienated by his policies, and in September 1326 his wife and her lover invaded England. The king and the Despensers were left isolated, and the king was forced to flee. Unable to rally an army, this proved Edward's downfall. The Despensers were captured and executed by a victorious Isabella. Isabella was condemned, however, by some as being bloodthirsty when she ordered Hugh Despenser the Younger to be hanged, drawn and quartered publicly. Edward, imprisoned at Kenilworth Castle, was charged in 1327 with incompetence, losing lands in Scotland, Gascony and Ireland, allowing the murder of nobles, the failure of government, and a host of other failures. Weeping, he agreed to abdicate, and his 14-year old son Edward III was proclaimed king, controlled by the queen and her lover. Later imprisoned in Berkeley Castle, Edward was almost certainly murdered here by Isabella and Roger's agent, some notorious sources claiming a red-hot poker was inserted into his anus (perhaps a parody of his love for sodomy?) Some suggest that he actually lived until at least 1330.

When all is said and done, there is a strong case for the claim that Edward II is England's worst medieval monarch. His reign was characterised by political favouritism, uncertainty at court, conflicting foreign policy, the alienation of his queen and her supporters, and ultimately, he was forced to abdicate and was murdered by orders of his own wife, thus damaging her reputation permanently. Whether Edward really was 'weak and vicious', he can be criticised for his ineffectual policies, which led to the alienation of courtiers and undermined England's security devastatingly.

Richard II (1367-1400), reigned 1377-1399.

I am currently in the midst of reading a book on Richard II, since there seems to be a current vogue for him at present, perhaps influenced by the showing of The Hollow Crown on the BBC. Was Richard II England's worst king? He was certainly arrogant, suspicious, cruel, cold and ruthless towards his enemies, not stopping to murder his own relatives. Yet he was also glorious, intelligent, a lover of regal splendour and patronage, and he has continued to fascinate and perplex historians and the general public.

The son of the chivalrous and renowned 'Black Prince' Edward and his wife Joan of Kent, Richard was born in 1367, the grandson of the celebrated king Edward III. Tall, good-looking and intelligent, Richard succeeded to the English throne aged merely 10 years old, and it's well known that minority rules are often clouded by political unrest and uncertainty at court and within the kingdom. This case was no different. Widespread opposition to the king's influential uncle, John of Gaunt, characterised much of English politics during the early years of Richard's reign. The king's influential councillors Simon Burley and the Earl of Oxford gained increasing control of royal affairs, causing resentment within the court. Heavy poll taxes in the period 1377-81 weakened English security further, leading to the infamous Peasants' Revolt in 1381, in which the fourteen-year old king was forced to meet the rebels personally and promise them sanctions in an attempt to quash the revolt. Many high-placed governmental officials, including the archbishop of Canterbury and the Lord High Treasurer, were publicly beheaded. Following the revolt, Richard married Anne of Bohemia in 1382, and the two appear to have enjoyed close relations until Anne's death in 1394, although there was no issue from the marriage, which proved to be a momentous and unsettling issue for the king.

The war in France caused further problems at court, with councillors favouring one of two approaches: peace, or aggressive military endeavours. The king turned his attention to Scotland, leading an expedition in 1385, but nothing came of it, while a French invasion of England undoubtedly undermined any notion of England's stability in these years. Factional discontent intensified at court, leading the king's uncle Thomas of Woodstock, duke of Gloucester, the earl of Arundel and the earl of Warwick to bring an appeal of treason against the king's favourites in 1387, including Michael de la Pole, the mayor of London Nicholas Brembre and the Archbishop of York; these nobles known as 'The Appellants' in bringing charges of treason against the royal favourites. Joining forces with Henry earl of Derby (the king's cousin) and the earl of Nottingham, the king was forced to comply with the Appellants' demands, and the royal favourites were removed from power, mostly being executed. Yet the Appellants, as Nigel Saul makes clear, were not popular, and their rule eventually crumbled following failures in foreign policy and court politics. Richard gained increasing authority at court, and promised to restore stability which had not been present in England during his reign.

Following Anne's death, Richard married the 7-year old Isabella of France in 1396, thus strengthening Anglo-French relations. In 1397, what came to be known as the 'tyranny' of Richard II began. Gloucester, Warwick and Arundel were arrested and punished, with Arundel being put to death, Warwick imprisoned, and Gloucester, the king's own uncle, apparently smothered by the king's supporters at his castle of Plushey. New favourites rose to power, including John Beaufort (the king's relative), the earl of Rutland, Thomas le Despenser, and others. But the House of Lancaster, in the form of Henry of Derby, posed a new threat to Richard's weak authority. Henry was disinherited and banished from England following a dispute with the earl of Norfolk, who was also banished. Yet when Richard left in May 1399 for Ireland, Henry famously invaded England and later took the throne, deposing Richard. Richard is thought to have been starved to death, having been imprisoned in Pontefract Castle.

Richard had been widely praised in his youth for his beauty, intelligence, and his development of court culture. He was intelligent, well-read and vivacious. Yet in the latter part of his reign he was increasingly criticised for his perceived arrogance, cruelty, and desire to wreak vengeance upon his political enemies. Shakespeare's play has severely influenced our understanding of Richard, depicting him as cruel and irresponsible, deserving of his fate. Many academic historians have wondered if Richard was actually insane. Yet Nigel Saul is reasonably fair in his assessment of Richard, and recognises the king's real strengths despite his, at  times, political incompetence, cruelty and arrogance. It does not seem that Richard, in comparison with Edward II, can be classified England's worst medieval king, but he had certainly lost the majority of his subjects' respect and devotion by the time of his deposition in 1399, meaning his rule, on the whole, cannot be judged a success.

Henry VI (1421-1471), reigned 1422-1461, 1470-1. 

Helen E. Maurer, in her sympathetic study of Henry VI's notorious queen, Margaret of Anjou (see http://www.conorbyrnex.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/margaret-of-anjou-she-wolf.html), dismissively wrote of Henry VI that he was perhaps 'the greatest disaster' England was ever to experience. Indeed, many would agree with her that Henry VI was, quite simply, a disaster; England's worst medieval king.

It's perhaps fair to note that it wasn't all Henry's own fault. The son of  the renowned and glorious king Henry V and his consort Catherine of Valois, Henry became king of England nine months old, and we have seen that minority rule never works well. This, of course, did not allow for political stability at court, and the king's uncles John and Humphrey were resented for their overbearing rule and political influence. Nonetheless, in the late 1430s and early 1440s Henry assumed growing authority and power as he became older, and in 1445 a prosperous alliance with France was achieved with his marriage to the 15-year old princess Margaret of Anjou, although this was not universally popular among his subjects. However, the king's failure to produce an heir with his consort caused considerable concern in a politically unstable kingdom. In 1453, when the queen eventually gave birth to their son Edward, many disputed who the father was in view of this.

Henry is often dismissed by historians as being pious and kind, but an entirely unsuitable king. Perhaps this is an unfair assessment, but when the king fell mad, or at least insane, in 1453, it plunged the kingdom into chaos. At a time of increasing unpopular attitudes towards the monarchy, caused largely by the loss of all the lands won by the English in France by Henry V save Calais, a breakdown in law and order, corruption and favouritism at the English court, and a rebellion in 1450 led by 'Jack Cade', the duke of York, the king's relative, became increasingly prominent at court and challenged royal authority. At Christmas 1454, King Henry eventually recovered his senses, but the Wars of the Roses were to be brought about nonetheless in view of these problems. A violent struggle between the competing houses of Lancaster and York took place, the first battle of St Albans occurring in 1455, although York was later killed at Wakefield in 1460. With the king's own incompetence, Queen Margaret was widely believed to be the figurehead of the Lancastrian cause. He was later captured by Edward earl of March in 1465 and imprisoned in the Tower of London, who was now king. Yet Margaret, now exiled, was determined to reclaim what she saw as her rightful place as queen and wife to the king, and schemed with the French king to win her throne back. Affecting an alliance with her former enemy the earl of Warwick, it was agreed that her son by the king would marry the earl's daughter Anne Neville. Warwick returned to England, forcing King Edward into exile, and restored Henry in 1470. Yet his return lasted less than six months, and he was murdered probably on orders of the returned  king Edward, in the Tower in May 1471, following the death of his heir Edward in battle previously, thus undermining the Lancastrian cause seemingly beyond repair.

While Henry has been seen by some as a martyr, a devout and pious king, his reign was a failure, in every sense of the word, ushering in the Wars of the Roses. He was incompetent, beset by factional conflict, utterly unable to control powerful nobles, and dominated by ruthless courtiers. His queen, who sought to preserve both their royal state and the legitimacy of their son, was condemned by contemporaries as being unwomanly  and a 'she-wolf', despite the fact that she was acting in her husband's interests. Although Henry may not have been unlikeable personally, he has a fair claim to being England's worst medieval monarch for what his reign brought about.

Richard III (1452-1483), reigned 1483-1485.

I don't wish to be attacked by the Richard III Society here, but it would be nonsensical to write an article on England's worst medieval king without at least mentioning Richard III, for he was demonised in his lifetime up until the present day, and many would argue that he was, by far, England's worst medieval king.

The son of Richard duke of York (killed at Wakefield during the Wars in 1460) and his wife Cecily Neville, Richard was younger brother to  the king Edward IV. Following that king's premature death in 1471, it is believed that, fearing hostile and cruel behaviour from his sister-in-law Queen Elizabeth Woodville and her family at court, who were believed to be hoping to exclude Richard utterly from power, Richard seized control of the new king, the 12-year old Edward V, and later his brother Richard of York, in an attempt to control the political situation in England at the time. Edward IV's supporters were quickly routed from power; his most famous supporter Hastings being beheaded in June 1483. Elizabeth, in fear and concern, quickly retreated from power, and sought sanctuary with her daughters.

Whether or not Richard was really as evil as Shakespeare made him out to be is unlikely, yet he certainly took advantage of the uncertain political and dynastic situation in England at the time. Whether or not the princes in the Tower, as they later became known, were murdered on his own orders is impossible to ever know the answer to, but on a balance of probabilities, it seems the likeliest scenario - they were last seen in the autumn of 1483, and no attempt was made by the king to produce them publicly to counter persistent rumours alleged that he had ordered their deaths. Richard faced numerous rebellions during his short-lived reign, most famously from his former supporter Buckingham in November 1483, resulting in Buckingham's execution. Queen Elizabeth quickly sought an alliance with the Lancastrian Margaret Beaufort, agreeing that her daughter Elizabeth of York would marry Margaret's son Henry Tudor if he managed to wrestle the throne from Richard, seen by many as an unlawful usurper. In view of this, Richard's own dynastic situation must have troubled him severely. His son died in 1484, and it was rumoured, following the death of his queen in 1485, that he had poisoned her in order to marry his own niece Elizabeth, designed to jeopardise Henry Tudor's plans and in order to sire a legitimate son.

By summer 1485, the situation had worsened beyond repair, and Henry and Richard eventually met in battle at Bosworth on 22 August. As everyone knows, Henry was victorious, and Richard was killed, meaning the end of the Yorkist dynasty in a sense. Henry married Elizabeth of York, and ushered in the glorious age of the Tudors. Richard's supposed notorious crimes, first and foremost the belief that he had ordered the deaths of the two princes, his ordering the execution of notable supporters of Edward IV, the belief that he had poisoned Queen Anne, the execution of his supporter the earl of Buckingham, and a host of other rumours blackened his reputation beyond repair, although we need to recognise the fundamental role placed by the Tudors in propaganda, shown most famously in Shakespeare's play Richard III in which Richard is deformed, evil, abhorrent in fact. But it cannot be doubted that many would argue that he has a strong claim to being England's worst ever medieval monarch.

In conclusion....
It's difficult to say who England's worst medieval monarch was, for their situations were so different, the context altered dramatically, and the king's own personality played a fundamental role. Other kings not mentioned here might be recognised by other historians to deserve the title worst king of England in the medieval period - perhaps, for some Henry I, for instance. I think it's impossible to say for certain ... but due to the evidence put forward, I think it comes down to Edward II, Henry VI, and Richard III. These three have strong claims to being England's worst medieval monarch.