Anne Neville: Richard III's Tragic Queen

by Licence, Amy

  Then, when it came to receiving prizes, the King of Arms must say,

  Behold here this noble lady, my lady of such a place N., accompanied by the knight or squire of honour and by my lords the judges, who have come to give you the tourney prize, because you have been judged the knight or squire who has fought best today in the melee of the tourney, and my lady prays that you will take it with good will.

  As René outlined,

  the lady should uncover the prize, and give it to him. Then he should take it and kiss her, and the two damsels if he likes. And then the king of arms, heralds and pursuivants should shout his battle cry around the whole room. And this done, he should lead the lady to the dance, and the judges, the knight of honour, the king of arms and the pursuivants should lead the two damsels back to their places, without sounding the trumpets any more.10

  As the daughters of the leading magnate of the land, Anne and Isabel may well have played a part in the distribution of prizes, perhaps receiving kisses and even taking part in the dancing. A great hall was set aside for this, with hanging wooden chandeliers, bowls to hold torches, tapestries, minstrels’ gallery, a side board of pewter and silver as well a dressing-room for the women to ‘refresh themselves or rest’.11 Along with feasts and court pageantry, such encounters would have been the most exciting form of entertainment for those in Anne’s circle; the pinnacle of what fifteenth-century secular culture had to offer and not to be missed. When Anne’s husband, Richard of Gloucester, became Constable of England, part of his job was to update the rules for tournaments; perhaps Anne recalled the Smithfield event and made her own contribution.

  The primary motive for the 1467 visit of the Burgundians was to discuss the proposed marital alliance between Charles the Bold and Margaret of York. With relations between the two countries improving along cultural, trading and political lines, Edward was encouraged to host a lavish tournament at Smithfield for his guests. In fact, though, it was the magnificent three-day duel on horse and foot, fought between Earl Rivers and the Bastard of Burgundy, which turned out to be the memorable event, eclipsing the true diplomatic purpose of the visit. Warwick would have wished to keep an eye on the development of the negotiations, still holding out his vain hopes that Edward would ultimately return to the idea of a French alliance. This occasion, with all its protocol and pageantry, marked a final glorious flourish in the tradition of late medieval tournaments; in fact it was also the last recorded use of the Smithfield site. Later incarnations under the Tudors would take different forms and represent a nostalgic return to older traditions.12 It was certainly the Burgundians who led the way in the elaborate ceremonial and pageantry of these formalised conflicts by the 1460s but what Anne may have witnessed at Smithfield was impressive enough. In fact, the 1467 festivities became a prototype for the perfect tournament, being copied a decade later for the celebrations of the marriage of the four-year-old Richard, Duke of York, to Anne de Mowbray. By this date, her marriage would have made Anne the boy’s aunt, so it is likely that she was there to witness the splendid occasion. The party of 1467 was cut short, however, by the death of Philip of Burgundy and accession of his son, Charles the Bold, which sent his courtiers hurrying back home. If anything, this cemented the proposal and Warwick had to accept that the match would go ahead, regardless of his dislike.

  In the summer of 1468, Earl Rivers was given the honour of leading the party escorting Margaret to her wedding and the pomp and ceremony was resumed. Warwick had ridden with her when she left Westminster but it was Scales who accompanied her across the sea to Burgundy, marking a reciprocal chivalric gesture but also, perhaps, a significant indicator of Edward’s shift in trust. The bride arrived through decorated archways where red and white wine flowed from the bows of archers and hippocras poured from the breast of a pelican sitting in a golden tree. The wedding took place on 3 July, in a temporary wooden hall, 140 feet by 70, with upper galleries, turrets and glass windows with gilded shutters, its thirty-two rooms hung with tapestries. Nine days of festivities encompassed banquets of swans, peacocks and ‘unicorns’, dances, plays, wild animals, music and ‘mechanical surprises’. The pièce de résistance, though, was the tournament of the Golden Tree, organised by the Bastard of Burgundy in Margaret’s honour. A narrative thread linking all the events presented the ‘lady of the Hidden Ile’, who required her knights to carry out three great tasks on her behalf, encountering ogres, dwarves and mysterious figures lurking in the woods; the victors hung their coats of arms on the golden tree itself. One participant arrived chained inside a black castle from which only the ladies could free him with a golden key. However extraordinary these fantasies were, the ensuing fighting was real enough, with the host sustaining a broken leg in action.

  In the same year as the Burgundian wedding, the teenage Richard of Gloucester was reaching maturity. The days of hunting, hawking and practising in the tilt-yard were soon to be translated into royal service on a national level and combat in the field. A little verse by John Hardyng neatly sums up the transition from late medieval aristocratic boyhood to the manhood of a leading magnate:

  At fourteen they shall to field I sure

  At hunt the deer; and catch a hardiness…

  At sixteen year to war and wage

  To joust and ride, and castles to assail.

  When Richard turned sixteen that October, his elder brother, the king, declared him officially of age and bestowed upon him the previously Lancastrian titles of Halton and Clitheroe, in order to provide for his upkeep. He was already a Knight of the Garter, having received the highest order of chivalry at the tender age of fourteen. The youth was now also given a commission of oyer and terminer, which were local courts, presided over by an assize judge, designed to hear and rule on serious cases including treason. In this capacity, Richard was now responsible for condemning Lancastrian traitors. He was also a signatory on the document whereby Edward offered his Burgundian brother-in-law, Charles the Bold, the Order of the Garter and was still closely connected with Warwick, being recorded as welcomed with him into the City of York. When Richard left his mentor’s household at Middleham for Westminster by February 1469, he may have been aware of Warwick’s increasing dissatisfaction with Edward’s regime. Perhaps the earl concealed his feelings from the king’s brother or perhaps his criticism lay behind the young man’s departure. By the time Richard was appointed Constable of England that October, the breach between the earl and the Yorkists was impossible to ignore. In fact, Richard was soon dispatched to Wales as a temporary figurehead to restore order, where one of his tasks was to recover territories from Warwick’s rebellious supporters. When it came to his family, there was no doubting the young duke’s motto of ‘loyaulte me lie’.

  Warwick’s allegiances had been changing for a while. Even as the Burgundian match had been secretly concluded, late in 1467, Edward continued to allow him to pursue a French alliance in competition with the Wydevilles’ ambitions. When the earl was disabused of this policy, it must have been an unpleasant reminder of the deception the king had previously practised over his own marriage. After the treaty was formalised in February 1468, according to Croyland, Warwick ‘conceived great indignation’ and loathed the queen’s family with ‘a most deadly hatred’, feeling that, once again, they had been preferred over him. While liaising with Louis XI, both men had made a number of attempts to sabotage the marriage and, now, the discovery finally drove Warwick into the arms of the French. To discredit the union, he attempted to harness the hostility and fears of London tradesmen by planning an attack by his retainers on Flemish merchants in the city, although the plot was discovered and the riot prevented. Louis armed Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, who then laid siege to Harlech Castle in the hopes of prompting the return of Henry VI. As a result, though, Tudor was stripped of his title, which was bestowed upon the Lancastrian William Herbert, then the guardian of Tudor’s nephew, Henry.

  In retaliation, Edward arrested several Lancastrian lords but wider hostility
to Edward’s reign was growing and Warwick’s dissatisfaction chimed with the national mood. Londoners were angered by the large enforced loans the king had not repaid and many felt he had failed to halt the general lawlessness which he had criticised back in 1461. The same year, rumours reached Edward of Warwick’s increasing sympathy towards the Lancastrian cause: London chronicler Robert Fabyan recorded that ‘many murmurous tales ran in the city atween the Earl of Warwick and the queen’s blood’. The king summoned his old friend to court to refute the allegations but Warwick chose not to appear, replying instead in writing, dismissing the accusations. He was not seeking to join the Lancastrians, he wrote; his loyalties still lay with the House of York. In secret, though, he was already considering siding with another powerful figure, also dissatisfied by the rapid rise of the Wydevilles; in this, he had not deceived Edward. Still declaring his Yorkist leanings, he transferred his sympathy between brothers, turning now to the impulsive George, Duke of Clarence, for support as the king continued to promote his in-laws. It seemed a further deliberate insult to the earl when, in 1469, Anthony, Earl Rivers, was promoted to the significant post of Lieutenant of Calais and Captain of the King’s Armada, giving him the control of the seas which Warwick had once enjoyed.

  A further cause for Warwick’s dissatisfaction related to his elder daughter. At eighteen, Isabel was already past the usual age of first marriages among the nobility and as the first child of the leading magnate of the country, she could expect a prestigious match. Yet there were precious few young men of equal or higher rank to provide her with a suitable partner. Warwick had already conceived of a match between her and the nineteen-year-old George, Duke of Clarence, at least as early as 1467; although this may date back to the loss of Henry, Duke of Buckingham, as a potential spouse. He had been matched at the age of nine, against his wishes, with Katherine Wydeville, one of the queen’s sisters. Clarence was next in line to the throne after Edward and the young man’s increasing annoyance with the dominance of the Wydevilles made him an ideal co-conspirator and son-in-law to the earl. ‘Seemly of person and well visage’, Clarence was an attractive, if slightly visceral figure, who saw in Warwick an outlet for many of the frustrations he was feeling at being passed over. When the match was proposed, Edward had firmly rejected it, perhaps due to the closeness of their family relations, but more likely to prevent the union of two malcontents whose power would be increased though the connection. Queen Elizabeth had yet to bear a son and the prospect of Clarence fathering a male heir created a significant alternative figurehead behind which rebels could gather and attempt to depose the king. His refusal only inflamed Warwick further, who then sent Edward’s own representative to negotiate with the Pope, resulting in the necessary dispensation, which was dated to 14 March 1469. Aware that the king may still try to prevent the ceremony from taking place, the earl secured a further licence from Cardinal Bourchier, allowing the marriage to take place in Calais.

  For Isabel and Anne, politics aside, this was a momentous personal occasion. The education of girls of all ranks of medieval society was geared towards their eventual roles as wives and mothers. The attainment of a suitable husband could be a matter of negotiation between families for years and often resulted in the unions of young girls with older or unappealing men. To be united with a young, influential and attractive man was a significant triumph, even for a girl of such high rank as Isabel Neville. On a political level, it was the best match she could make, becoming the wife of the heir to the throne. Illness, accident or death on the battlefield could easily remove Edward at any time, allowing the young couple, or any son Isabel bore, to inherit. There is no doubt that Isabel was aware that this was a factor in the match: it would have been perfectly natural for the eighteen-year-old to have imagined herself as queen, picturing her Coronation and the court she would create at Westminster.

  The couple were already known to each other and close in age; there may well have been a degree of attraction, if not affection, on her side. This would have been an added bonus in an era when companionate unions were not the norm for those of the Neville girls’ class. In the sequestered world amid which the daughters of the aristocracy were raised, a good marriage offered the life they had anticipated for years, with the opportunity to run their own household, the fulfilment of physical relations, the birth of children and increased social respect. Isabel’s match satisfied all the criteria she could have hoped for, even if it was controversial and needed to be conducted out of the reach of her future brother-in-law. There were precedents for royal forgiveness in such cases though, with the queen’s own parents marrying against the wishes of Henry VI and later being welcomed back into court circles. While she probably knew that they were defying Edward, it is unclear to what extent Isabel was aware of the insubordination underpinning her father’s and husband’s co-operation, which would result in treason. As she, her mother and sister began the preparations for the match, sewing and preparing her linen and dresses, the occasion was more the significant step in a young woman’s life cycle than an act of political defiance. That spring they sailed for Calais from Sandwich, excited at the prospect of the celebrations and the new life it offered.

  The marriage took place on Tuesday 12 July 1469. It may have been celebrated at the Calais church of Our Lady, the Église Notre-Dame, which still stands in the town today. A rare survivor, with its twelfth-century foundations, the majority of the remaining building was developed during the fourteenth century. Alternatively, they may have become man and wife in the chapel dedicated to the Virgin Mary, within the walls of Calais Castle itself. Wherever they spoke their vows, the union was marked by conspicuous festivities and pageantry. Warwick wanted to contrast the occasion with the clandestine nature of the king’s own nuptials, staging the advent of an alternative Yorkist royal family to replace Edward, whose legitimacy he had questioned. Thus, he planned several days of splendour suitable for a royal wedding, to which he invited those leading dignitaries who dared attend, including five knights of the garter. The ceremony was conducted by George Neville, Archbishop of York and Cecily, Clarence’s mother, may have been present. She was recorded as being with them in Canterbury, then in Sandwich, before the party departed, although this may represent an attempt to dissuade them from going ahead with the union against the king’s wishes, rather than her personal endorsement.

  Anne played a leading role in both the preparations and ceremony of the day. The girls would have been dressed in their finest; as new members of the royal family of York, they needed their attire to proclaim their enhanced statuses. While wedding dresses were not yet the standard white, the occasion provided them with the opportunity to deck themselves in cloth of gold, jewels and perhaps even the white rose emblem that Clarence’s wife would be entitled to wear. Warwick was known for his generosity in his London town house; no doubt the feasting would have rivalled that the girls had experienced at their uncle’s enthronement in 1465. However, Isabel may have been disappointed by what followed. There was to be no extended honeymoon; Chronicler Waurin suggests there were only two days of festivities and few guests. Five days later, Warwick and Clarence returned to England, leaving the new bride behind. Perhaps Isabel regretted that the first few days of her married life were cut short or that her new husband hurried away so soon. Perhaps she realised the match had been designed primarily to strengthen the ties between her family and his on the eve of rebellion. On the other hand, though, she may have understood the political expediency of the moment and, as did many wives of the medieval nobility, recognised her dynastic role within the context of the conflicts of the day. After all, like her sister, she was Warwick’s daughter. No surviving evidence suggests that she was in any way a victim or a pawn. Now she was a wife, the Duchess of Clarence, married to the heir to the throne. Her situation also elevated her sister’s. With her elder sister married, Anne’s own future came into sharper focus: who would she marry and what path would she take?

  6

  Quee
ns in Waiting

  1469–1470

  And look to thy daughters that none of them be lorn

  from the very time that they are of thee born

  busy thyself and gather fast for their marriage

  and give them to spousing as soon as they be of age1

  The next few months were to prove turbulent ones for Anne and Isabel. Their father’s determination to seize control of the English throne would redefine his daughters’ status, as much by his relentless audacity as by his apparent moments of indecision. Warwick was a shrewd opportunist, but through the rapid changes of the coming months, he may not have fully realised the consequences of restoring Henry VI to the throne. ‘Kingmaking’ was a feat he had already accomplished back in 1461, and now, for personal reasons, he set about reversing that process. Of course, his reasons for originally removing Henry had not changed. Then, he had been able to exercise considerable influence over the young Earl of March. Now, the rise of the Wydevilles placed him at a remove from the crown and he saw that, by contrast, the weak Lancastrian would be easier to manipulate. The rebels knew they were taking a huge gamble in attempting to topple a strong king, as Edward IV had none of the unstable, pacifist tendencies of his Lancastrian predecessor. By 1469, though, the appeal of the handsome, 6-foot-4 son of York had been clouded by lawlessness, nepotism and debt. When an independent pocket of discontent broke out in the North, his enemies seized the opportunity to stand against their king.

  Warwick sensed the national mood had turned sufficiently to prove a serious threat to Edward’s reign. In Richmondshire, his supporters rose simultaneously with rebels rallying under the leadership of a mysterious Robin of Redesdale or Robin Mend-all. Although his identity is still disputed, the folkloric Robin was probably one Sir John Conyers, or his brother William, to whom Warwick was related by marriage and who was acting at his prompting. Edward travelled north to disband their armies, leaving the capital vulnerable, just as the Kingmaker had hoped. This left the way clear for Warwick and his troops to land on the Kent coast, a region notoriously prone to dissent, where the earl had already incited sailors using the Sandwich–Calais route. Heading west, they received a warm welcome at Canterbury and gathered more troops for the entry to London. The capital had initially enjoyed a good relationship with Edward, welcoming him in relief in 1461, and although the king’s pro-Burgundian stance had brought trading benefits, the city merchants had been angered by his habit of extracting money from them by enforced loans. Warwick’s and Clarence’s manifesto placed the Wydevilles at the heart of national dissatisfaction and called for their removal, a preventative measure to protect them from the charge of treason, although their secret intention was to replace Edward with Clarence. Aware of their approach, the king awaited them at Nottingham, while William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, and Humphrey Stafford, Earl of Devon, raised their own armies and headed to join Edward’s forces, hoping that a combined royalist army would defeat the traitors.