Bastard Prince

by Beverley A. Murphy

  At first sight, Richmond seemed in no position to make demands. He was the king’s dutiful son as well as his obedient subject. He owed everything he was to his father’s good will and he was still only nine years old. However, not even the king or Wolsey could blatantly ignore the express wishes of the duke.

  Things came to a head with the death of Sir William Compton in May 1528. When he succumbed to the sweatingsickness which swept across the land, his demise left the stewardship of two of Richmond’s manors, one in Somerset and the other in Dorset, vacant. Since the king had appointed Compton, he clearly felt he had every right to appoint his successors. He earmarked Sir Giles Strangeways and Sir Edward Seymour for the posts. Admittedly, these lands were now in Richmond’s hands and technically the right of patronage belonged to the duke. Since both men had links with Richmond’s household, Henry might feel that appearances were being observed. On 10 July 1528 the king’s instructions were duly sent to the duke, only to discover that Richmond had already granted the office in Somerset to his ‘trusty and diligent servant’ Sir George Cotton and the post in Dorset to his chamberlain, Sir William Parr.

  The conflict presented all involved with a dilemma. The decision, albeit made ‘by the advice of my council’ was undeniably Richmond’s. Even Wolsey had to be apprised of events by Sir Thomas Magnus. The duke explained his action as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He had a great number of servants who had not yet received any reward, Wolsey had assured him that he should fill any vacancies and so he had. Although Richmond was careful to stress that the posts were not that important, one being worth only 100s a year, and was anxious to assure Henry that ‘the same are and shall be at your most gracious commandment’ he did not actually revoke his grants. For its part, his council took refuge in confusion, claiming Henry’s exact wishes were unclear. It is tempting to assume that this decisive action had been intended to catch the king on the hop. Now they had succeeded in granting the offices, the ball was in Henry’s court.

  As long as those areas in which the king expressed an interest remained vacant, Richmond and his council had scant grounds to refuse him. However, if Henry seriously expected Richmond to serve as an effective representative of the crown, the duke’s own authority must also be seen to be respected. While Henry might appropriate some of the duke’s patronage to his own use, by couching his requirement in the nature of a request, any move to overturn a decision already made could set a dangerous precedent. Since Richmond’s jurisdiction, as both a bastard and a minor, was limited by what was allowed to him by the crown, it was especially important that Henry should acknowledge and defer to his son’s personal prerogative. Although Henry was doubtless not best pleased at having his intentions blocked by his nine-year-old son and his council of clerks and lawyers, he could not afford to ignore the potential damage to the duke’s carefully crafted, but still fragile, political persona if he decided to overturn his appointments.

  In the end it seems a compromise of sorts was reached. Like most compromises it was far from ideal. For the moment, Sir Giles Strangeways was to be disappointed.5 Sir Edward Seymour was more fortunate. On 25 August 1528, in a document impressively adorned with Richmond’s own seal, the duke granted Seymour the stewardship of the Manor of Canford and the other premises in Dorset. By these means the dignity of both the king and the duke was preserved.

  As Henry’s representative at Sheriff Hutton, the duke’s role was clearly defined. As a private magnate Richmond’s authority depended more on his personal reputation. Many of Richmond’s officers served on local government commissions. Several of his council also had their own links with areas, in particular the city of York. Richmond’s cofferer, Sir George Lawson, served as an alderman for the city and was subsequently to represent York as both a Member of Parliament and as mayor. Sir Richard Page, the duke’s vice-chamberlain, was recorder of York from 1527 until 1533. However, when Richmond wanted to secure the post of ‘sword bearer’ for his servant Alan Ary in January 1528, the response of the city council was distinctly lukewarm. They told Richmond that they wished to wait ‘unto such time as the King’s grace and the lord Cardinal’s grace pleasure might be further known’.

  Given Richmond’s age and circumstances they may have been genuinely concerned not to offend the king. However, the referral to a higher authority also provided them with a convenient excuse to defer making any answer. Relations between the city of York and Richmond’s council were not always good. In August 1528, the town was called to account in a dispute over taxes. Also the city had already had Wolsey’s servant, Robert Fournes, foisted upon them. His appointment had proved most unpopular and the mayor had apparently reproached Fournes to his face:

  Master Fournes what do you here? There is not one in this hall that hereafter will company with you or anything will do for you. There is not one in this city that loveth my lord Cardinal or you or any other that longeth to my lord Cardinal.6

  Despite Richmond’s request, the office went to Henry Fawkes, a merchant who had enjoyed the freedom of the city since 1504. The personal authority of the duke was clearly not sufficient to counter the resentment of the city. Although to be fair no magnate, with the possible exception of the king, could realistically expect that his will would always to be granted.

  Conversely, perhaps with an eye on his possible future prospects, many people were keen to gain entry into Richmond’s service. William Eure was ‘very desirous to have my lord of Richmond’s fee’. Although the fee itself was only £10, he declared it was worth more to him than ‘a thing of far greater value’. When Sir William Bulmer’s age and infirmity weighed too heavily upon him for him to be able to continue in his duties as the steward of Richmond’s household and other offices, he was quick to offer his sons as convenient replacements. A third generation of his family, Matthew Boynton, the husband of Bulmer’s granddaughter Anne, was also found in Richmond’s service.

  A large number of Richmond’s own servants were keen to use their influence to secure places in his household for their friends and relations. Nicholas Throckmorton, who with three older brothers lamented the fact that he had little chance of inheriting his fortune, probably owed his position as a page to his uncle, Sir William Parr, who served as the duke’s chamberlain. Henry Partridge, one of the young, unmarried gentlemen of the chamber, was possibly the son or younger brother of Richmond’s former nurse, Anne Partridge. The ‘master Skeffington’ who was a groom of the privy chamber in September 1531, was probably a relation of William Skeffington, by that point serving as Richmond’s deputy lieutenant in Ireland. Robert Johns, one of the yeoman of the chamber, may well have been a relation of the yeoman of the wardrobe, Hugh Johns.

  Perhaps this was nothing more than the general scramble for offices and advancement, an age-old desire to get on in the world. When Sir Jason Laybourne expressed his wish to serve the Duke of Richmond, he was equally interested in any other preferment that might supplement his income. Philip Morice, the brother of the young duke’s general receiver, went to considerable lengths to be received into Richmond’s employment. He used his brother’s connection as a valued servant of Thomas Cranmer, so that Cranmer would presume on George Boleyn’s obligation to him, in order that Boleyn might approach his uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, to grant Morice a place in Richmond’s service. The young duke’s household does seem to have been a useful link into royal service. Thomas Eynns from Shropshire was not alone in finding that his time with Richmond would lead on to a position in Prince Edward’s household. Even though Richmond’s prospects of the crown were never exactly spoken of, many in his service must have hoped to profit by association with him. At the very least he was the king’s son anda duke in his own right. Any man would be pleased to serve such a master and there were increasingly rewards to be had.

  Richmond was clearly anxious to live up to his position and did the best he could with numerous gifts and grants from his personal possessions. George Cotton received a horse with a flaxen mane an
d tail that had been a present to the duke from Sir William Skeffington. Even the ‘sore worn’ gift of a doublet of cloth of silver, which Richmond gave to Nicholas Throckmorton, was still a valuable present. Throckmorton also received a crimson riding coat, a gown of black velvet and a riding coat ‘of new coloured cloth’ from the young duke. Nor was he the only beneficiary. John Jenny, one of the unmarried gentlemen of the chamber, received a doublet of purple velvet embroidered with gold chains and lined with black and Hugh Johns, the yeoman of the wardrobe, was given a black velvet riding bonnet, trimmed with gold. Henry Partridge, who was perhaps rather more Richmond’s own size, found himself the proud owner of seven pairs of former ducal hose in various colours, as well as a black bonnet with twenty-seven solid gold buttons.

  If Richmond might seem to be a gullible target from whom benefits and rewards could be easily extracted by flattery, then the same could sometimes be said of his father. If getting what you wanted meant pleasing your patron, then such practice was not foul means, but good business practice. Gifts and tokens were a customary and expected part of good lordship. Richmond’s pointed reminder in 1527 that ‘it hath not been my chance as yet hitherto to prefer any one of my servants to any manner of promotion either spiritual or temporal’ was not the complaint of a child, but the concern of a duke who cannot repay the good service of his officers in an appropriate manner. Sometimes the monetary fees were little recompense for the trouble and expense of the office. It was the fringe benefits, which could be goods, prestige or opportunities for personal gain, which were the real attraction.

  Richmond’s half-brother, King Edward VI, would voice a similar concern when he declared ‘my Uncle of Somerset dealeth very hardly with me and keepeth me so straight I cannot have money at my will’. This was not exactly pocket money, but intended to reward those supplicants and players who came before their king. Wolsey acknowledged that one of the aspects of Richmond’s affairs that needed to be redressed was the arrangements for personal expenses ‘for giving of rewards, for playing money unto my lord’s grace [and] for his apparel’ which obviously needed to be replaced more frequently than for an adult. This problem, at least, does seem to have been amended. At his death in 1536 Richmond’s almoner handed over about £490 in ready money which he had been holding for the duke.

  Despite all the difficulties, examples of Richmond exercising his own patronage are easy to find. When the parsonage of Dimby fell vacant in 1529, Richmond overrode the customary rights of Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, in order to bestow it on his tutor Richard Croke. Giles Forster, who served as master of the horse after the departure of Sir Edward Seymour, earned £3 6s 8d per annum as the steward of Merton in Westmorland. Even lesser servants could benefit from Richmond’s generosity: Robert Metcalf, a clerk of the kitchen received 2d a day as bailiff of Cottingham in Yorkshire. At his death several of Richmond’s servants held offices within his lordships. If George and Richard Cotton seem to have done exceptionally well, with a clutch of such posts between them, they repaid Richmond with eleven years of loyal service. Since they were the only servants allowed to accompany his body into Norfolk, they were perhaps particularly close to the duke.

  An unusual aspect of Richmond’s patronage, given Richmond’s lack of years, was his connection with Haltemprice Priory in Yorkshire. In February 1528 Brian Higdon advised Wolsey that the prior at Haltemprice was dead and that two of the brethren were coming up to London to ask for a replacement. He described the priory as being well built, with lands worth about 200 marks, and added ‘the Duke of Richmond and Somerset is founder’. Since Higdon was both Richmond’s chancellor and Dean of York he is unlikely to have been mistaken. A founder’s responsibilities might include sponsoring an establishment’s business in the royal courts or protecting the financial interests of the monks. In return the founder was assured of the grateful services of the monks in praying for them and their family, they had a right to lodgings in the priory during their lifetime and a place of burial after their death.

  The claim that Richmond was indeed their founder was reiterated in the visitation of the monasteries in 1536, when the priory was also found to possess the relics of the arms of St George, a part of the true Holy Cross and the girdle of St Mary ‘which is thought to be helpful in childbirth’. However, the sense in which Richmond was the founder is questionable. The priory did draw some of its income from lands in his possession, but that would not give him founder’s rights since Sir John de Meaux had founded a religious house at Haltemprice in 1406 so it was not a new foundation. On the other hand, a re-foundation would have enhanced Richmond’s status. Richmond already maintained a chapel in his household. Adorned with tapestries of the passion of Christ, staffed by clerics in vestments of cloth of gold and crimson velvet embroidered with Richmond’s arms, and a choir, it was as much a matter of prestige as religion. Although being the benefactor of a religious house had obvious benefits for the next world, it was probably hoped this move would enhance Richmond’s image on earth.

  In general, Richmond’s age was not a serious handicap when it came to the administration of his lands. It could even be a positive benefit. When Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, had formerly held the lordship of Bromfield and Yale, he had used its income to raise credit and the revenues sharply decreased.7 Instead, Richmond could count on experienced officers like his surveyor and general receiver James Morice who had faithfully served both Henry VIII and Margaret Beaufort. It was his duty to collect rents and fees from the various stewards and bailiffs and handle the practical details of grants and leases. Things did not always run smoothly. Wolsey suggested that the repairs of houses in Boston harbour in Lincolnshire should be arranged before they fell into the sea and in 1534 bad weather in the north meant the harvest failed and Richmond’s tenants claimed they were too poor to pay him any rent.8

  Examples of Richmond’s own involvement in the care or exploitation of his lands are not easy to find. While no magnate of his status would have overseen day-to-day business, many took an active interest in what was, in essence, their power base. A number of Richmond’s estates, like Maidcroft in Kent, were let out to farmers. When Richmond bought the Lordship of Arwystli and Cyfeiliog in Montgomeryshire from Sir John Dudley, the manor court was told ‘that the said estate be kept in my lord Ferrers’ name as farmer and not in my lord of Richmond’s name’. In other cases, parts of his estates were leased to various monastic houses. Syon Monastery in Kent, and St Mary’s Chantry in Lincolnshire both held lands from the duke. In 1535 a vicar in Kingsbury Hundred was paying just over 7s in rent to Richmond in his capacity as Lord of Langport in Somerset. This was not the most productive way of realising the value of property, since the possibility for development and improvement was lost in return for a fixed fee. Parcels of land let out to farm or lease were a standard form of land use for those with extensive properties and not in themselves a reflection of Richmond’s youth. However, it did provide the duke with a steady income and relieved his officers of some responsibilities.

  Unlike an actual minority, where the ward might grow to find his assets stripped and his lands despoiled, Richmond’s holdings do not appear to have suffered unduly in the hands of his officers. When Richmond took possession of the Manors of Wrestlingworth in Cambridgeshire and Bassingbourn and Orwell in Bedfordshire in 1525, they yielded a sum total of £45 10s 10½d. After his death that sum total was £45 10s 10d exactly. It was not the place of Richmond’s council to make innovative (and possibly risky) developments. They had to answer to the king. Richmond’s occasional purchases did not compare with the policy of acquisition in Lincolnshire undertaken by Edward, Lord Clinton. The modest improvements made to his residences, including some building work at Sheffield, were insignificant beside the magnificent works commissioned by the king. The policy of maintenance and repair was nothing like Margaret Beaufort’s extensive programme, which included an ambitious scheme at Boston in Lincolnshire to prevent flooding.

  Although Richmond
would take a keen interest in many aspects of his responsibilities, his personal involvement in the care or exploitation of his lands seems to have been at best sporadic and at worst non-existent. In a rare example, in 1534 the duke was taken to view a breach in the sea defences at Poole in Dorset. He solemnly reported that the damage was likely to hinder the collection of custom dues and also be to ‘the great annoyance and decay of my said town . . . unless some good remedy be shortly had in that behalf’. Time and again in numerous counties the period of Richmond’s tenure coincides with a significant gap in even the basic records, like manor court rolls. This perhaps explains how Richmond’s lordship has sometimes been completely overlooked, with local histories often omitting any connection with Richmond at all.

  Significantly, this apparent lack of interest did not extend to the question of his title. Any attacks on his rights were vigorously defended in the king’s courts like any adult magnate. When Thomasyn Andrews of Fremington in Devon committed suicide, all her goods and cattle ‘to the value of £20 and above’ were forfeit to the duke, as lord of the manor. Instead, Elizabeth Chicester, and four accomplices conspired to keep her possessions for themselves. Casting himself as ‘your son and faithful subject’ Richmond complained to the king through his Court of Star Chamber. When thieves broke into his park at Bedhampton to slaughter and steal his deer, Richmond again sought to obtain a subpoena. The bill pointed out that their actions were in violation of the king’s laws and lack of suitable punishment would set a perilous example to other like-minded offenders.

  Richmond’s eagerness to assert his rights could also result in a less welcome use of the courts. In 1531 Randall Lloyd, Richmond’s deputy steward in his new lordship of Bromfield and Yale, refused to allow the customary general pardon at a change of lord or lady, where all rents, debts and other due monies would be waived in return for a single fee of six marks, so the tenants took their case to the Star Chamber. The king was asked ‘of your most noble and abundant grace, to admit the said tenants and inhabitants to their said old ancient customs’. Regrettably, the verdict does not survive. While it is probably safe to assume that Richmond had certain advantages in securing a favourable verdict, it is to be hoped that his officer was not allowed to use the good name of the duke to perpetrate such an unjust practice.