Anne Neville: Richard III's Tragic Queen

by Licence, Amy

  When I was mortal, my anointed body

  By thee was punched full of deadly holes

  Think on the Tower and me: despair, and die!

  Harry the Sixth bids thee despair, and die!

  Thus admonished by an apparent saint, Richard promptly complied.

  8

  A Strange Courtship

  1471–1472

  But if I sang your praises

  it wasn’t out of love

  but for the profit I might get from it

  just as any joglar sings a lady’s fame1

  Anne had lost her father and husband in battle. Her mother had remained in sanctuary, beyond reach, while her sister was married to the enemy. She had been taken into captivity along with her mother-in-law, who was still a prisoner in the formidable Tower. Then her father-in-law, the king, had been murdered. All this had happened within the space of a few months, yet it was not the end for the teenager. Of course, she did not have the benefit of foresight to reassure her, but she was lucky to have come through recent events and now be in a position of safety, even optimism; as a survivor, and following her father’s example, she was probably accustomed to seek out whatever opportunities might present themselves, however unlikely. In fact, far from being an end, it was a significant new beginning. A regime change at the top could mark a swathe of new allies and potential connections, particularly for a young, healthy and attractive woman. Anne has often been sidelined as a pawn amid men’s more powerful games but there is no reason why her gender should exclude ambition, cunning and drive. After all, she had Margaret of Anjou as an example, albeit perhaps a negative one. Now, she knew she must adapt to the status quo and start to map out a future for herself.

  Following the events of May 1471, Anne had been released into the custody of her sister Isabel and brother-in-law, Clarence, who had now inherited her father’s title of Earl of Warwick. It was a situation which allowed for the widowed princess’s return to society, giving her access to the court at Westminster and a degree of freedom suggestive of a hopeful future as a Yorkist ally. She was lucky not to have been entrusted to her mother, then still in sanctuary at Beaulieu Abbey, who, as the widow of a traitor, was considered legally deceased. Perhaps Anne was extended an element of choice in this. From this point forward, Anne de Beauchamp would play no significant role in the lives of either of her daughters or their husbands, who would fight over her inheritance. The sisters may have considered their mother’s flight as an act of betrayal. Perhaps they had never been close; it is not difficult to cast Warwick as the dominant parent, also even the one who had inspired devotion, but this is speculation. Equally it was in Clarence’s interests to keep his sister-in-law close, as he was currently in possession of the majority of the Warwick legacy and did not wish to divide that with whomever Anne should wed next. As she turned fifteen, barely months after becoming a widow, the subject of Anne’s remarriage was already a sensitive one.

  The duke and duchess were then resident at Coldharbour House in Thames Street, in the parish of All-Hallows-the-Less, or perhaps All-Hallows-in-the-Hay, named after an adjoining hay wharf, near where the London Brewery now stands. It was an ancient and important ‘right fair and stately’ house, according to John Stowe, originally two fortified buildings on the river-bank, which had been home to Henry IV in 1400 and to Henry V during his tenure as Prince of Wales. Following the attainder of Anne of York’s husband, Henry Holland, the property came into the possession of the Crown and was used by various members of the York family. It is mentioned in a mid-seventeenth-century play by Heywood and Rowley as having twenty chimneys, was reputed to have a number of turrets built around a courtyard and was generally believed to be impregnable. In the 1460s it had been owned by the Lancastrian Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter, but was confiscated after his involvement in the Battle of Barnet. It would have been there that Anne was taken, under escort from the Tower, to be part of her sister’s household.

  It is possible to reconstruct a fairly full picture of what life was like under Clarence’s roof in 1471, due to the set of surviving guidelines produced eighteen months before, for the running of his affairs during a stay at Waltham. Royalty had long been visitors to Waltham monastery, which was ideally located for hunting in the surrounding royal forest, now Epping Forest. Henry II had founded an Augustine priory on the site, which later became an abbey, one of the wealthiest of its order. Clarence’s connection with the area was established in 1465, when Cheshunt Manor, just over the border in Hertfordshire, had been granted to him after the death of Elizabeth, Lady Say. Even as late as the eighteenth century, descendants of Clarence’s daughter Margaret were listed as living at nearby Much Waltham. The Stablishmentes and Ordinaunces made for the Rule and Guydinge2 for the household of Clarence at the monastery of Waltham, 9 December 1469, just six months after his marriage, shows the extent and expenditure of his home and the provisions made for his new duchess. It seems to owe something to the similar routine followed by his mother Cecily and that which Isabel herself had grown up under at Middleham, but although the new duchess had jurisdiction over her servants, her husband would have had the final say. The Waltham Ordinances clarify the standard of living that Duchess Isabel would have experienced in London and Essex and wherever Isabel went during the second half of 1471, Anne went too.

  Embedded within the regulations is a paragraph reminding the household of the Clarences’ then recent marriage:

  Be it knowen and remembred that the Tewesdaye, the xii day of the moneth of July in the castelle of Calais, the seid Duke tooke in marriage Isabell, one of the daughters and heires of Richard the seid erle of Warwik whiche that tyme was present there.3

  Following this, the duchess’s household, described in The State, Rule and Governaunce of the Excellent Princess in the Standing Householde, includes her personal servants of a baroness and five gentlewomen, each with their own staff and her own smaller version of the duke’s household, with treasurer, chamberlain, almoner, chaplain, yeomen, servers, ushers, waiters and kitchen hands. She had yeomen of the robes and beds, a groom of the robes, clerk of the closet, pages of the chamber for water and other necessaries, a clerk of the jewels and lavandrie, or washers, of her clothing. The extensive stabling arrangements include carriages, chariots, palfreys, chairs and litters for her travel; no doubt Anne would have been collected from the Tower in one of her sister’s vehicles, perhaps covered over to avoid attention. Isabel may well have made the arrangements herself, as she clearly had a degree of control over her own servants: ‘All ladyes, gentyelwomen and chamberers attending upon the seid duchesse, take such fees, rewards and clothinge, as shall please the duchesse.’

  The more general rules for the running of the Clarence household would have dictated Anne’s daily routine. Typically for its time and status, it was a household concerned with appearances, respect and service. Individuals holding positions of importance, particularly those involved in the organisation of finances, charity and catering, such as the chamberlain, almoner, steward, treasurer, chancellor, controller of the household, marshall, ushers and servers, were to be worshipful, virtuous and honest. A range of fines, usually the suspension of a day’s wages, existed for any who did not fulfil their duties, were disrespectful or wasteful. In summer, they dined at 10 a.m. and 5 p.m., while in winter, the hours shifted forwards to 9 a.m. and 4 p.m. Those in attendance must ensure the family were well and honourably served, or else suffer financial penalty and the loss of their daily meals. Livery must be worn by all employees to ‘give good example to the court’, for identification and to demonstrate allegiance, which was particularly important in an era of shifting loyalties. The Counting House was responsible for assigning all the household servants with livery, which in 1469 totalled 299 people, costing £188 13s 4d. Some servants were permitted to exercise their own judgement within reasonable limits. The almoner was to have 12d daily to distribute to the poor and, after each meal, would take the leftovers ‘to be given to the most needy man or
woman to his discretion’, while the porter was to fetch wood, white lights and wax but ‘no more than was reasonable’.4

  While staying at Coldharbour House, Anne would have been well provided for. Having come from the royal court at Amboise, with Louis XI in residence, in full expectation of assuming the role of the Princess of Wales at Westminster, her life under Clarence’s regime was not materially too far removed from that of Edward and his queen at Westminster. The projected total annual expenditure for the duke and duchess in 1469 had been a considerable £4,505 15s 10d. The ordinances list the different kitchen departments of bakehouse, pantry, cellar, buttery and picher house, spicery, larder, seething house, scalding house, scullery, saucer, hall, ewery, chandry and butchery, as well as all those who worked in and around them like the porters, servers and clerks. Bread was baked daily, with the small, fine, white payne-manes and manchettes produced for the table as well as loaves for the horses and hounds. The estimations for a year’s consumption in 1469 included 650 quarters of wheat, 41 tons of wine and 365 tons of ales, 2,700 sheep, 420 pigs, 2 barrels of honey and a long, luxurious list of spices, including pepper, saffron, ginger, cloves, mace, cinnamon, nutmeg, dates, licorice, sugar, raisins, currants, figs and rice, totalling over £72. Over £30 was spent on sauces, £8 on white salt and £106 on wood and coal.5

  Although Coldharbour House was reputedly impregnable, comprising what had been two fortified town houses, recent events had taught the Clarences that even strongholds like the Tower could fall victim to the attacks of marauding rebels. It is unsurprising, then, that the Ordinances emphasise the need for security. In summer, the gates were open between 5 a.m. and 10 p.m., changing in winter to 7 a.m.–9 p.m., but they were manned at all times. The porters were to wait at the gate and ensure no household stuff, such as silver plates and pewter vessels, was ‘embezzled out’ and no man was allowed to break doors, windows or locks on pain of losing wages. The security measures may also have been in place to prevent the Clarences’ charge from escaping or being snatched from under their nose. Once it emerged that Richard, Duke of Gloucester, was interested in becoming Anne’s second husband, his brother was keen to prevent the two from meeting. The romantic legend that he banished her to the kitchens, where she was dressed in the garb of a kitchen maid, may owe more to historical fiction, although there is the fair possibility that he sent her out of sight when his brother was visiting.

  Shakespeare has Richard actively wooing Anne. An audience sees him confess his guilt and declare his intention to wed her by way of a challenge in spite of her ‘heart’s extremest hate, with curses in her mouth and tears in her eyes’. He initiates the wooing in Act 1, Scene 2 and she reacts with repulsion, before being won over by his false displays of affection. Yet there is no way of knowing now just how the marriage came about. It is reductive to Anne to assume the courtship had to be initiated by Richard, when she had just as much to gain from the match as he. Anne may well have seen Gloucester as an ally who would provide her with the status she needed for independence and the necessary assistance to take control of her inheritance. Clearly, she was the ideal wife for him, bringing with her the lands, revenues and reputation of her father that would allow him to assume the mantle of his old mentor. Anne was no fool; she knew her value and what she had to offer. Perhaps she suggested the match to him herself. The status of an independent widow would have been less attractive to a fifteen-year-old than, perhaps, to a woman of more mature years. Anne had been raised with marriage as her goal and there were few men equal to her in rank. She would gain a protector and he would share her portion of the Warwick estate; without his help, she could not even enjoy her inheritance and, lacking that, there was little chance of her making a better match. She was certainly capable of taking the initiative. From Clarence’s custody, Anne wrote to Queen Elizabeth, her mother Jacquetta of Luxembourg and her daughter, Princess Elizabeth, requesting the chance to claim her own half of the Warwick estates in court.6 It was denied. Quite cynically, uniting with Richard was a win-win situation and, ever the realist, Anne embraced it.

  It is not clear what role the Clarences played in the negotiations, although Croyland’s story about Anne’s concealment, as well as the subsequent disputes arising over the Warwick inheritance, would suggest they were not overly keen for the marriage to go ahead. The legal settlement that followed certainly provoked an unpleasant breach between the brothers and consequently their wives. It would be romantically satisfying to believe in the theory that this was a love match; that mutual affection had grown between the young pair during their Middleham days, which survived the intervening conflict that placed them on opposing sides, in order to later reunite them purely for companionate love. Such a story provides the premature ‘happy ending’ for Anne that, with hindsight, the historian and novelist know she would not get. It is only human to wish to snatch a little bit of romance out of the jaws of battle and premature death. But it would also be as misleading to make this assumption as it would be to accept Shakespeare’s version of events. There is no way of knowing whether one pursued the other, or which of them first conceived of the idea and somehow communicated it. Perhaps the idea was mooted by letter or in a whispered discussion in the corner of the Erber; perhaps Richard or Anne approached Clarence or Isabel, seeking their approval. Perhaps it was denied. Of course, it cannot be entirely ruled out that Richard did ‘prove a lover’ and swept his young childhood friend off her feet with the romantic words and promises at which his brother Edward was adept. It would be to underestimate Richard to assume he was not sincere or capable of this. The details of exactly how Richard and Anne came together may never be known.

  What is more apparent is the rapid time-scale of the courtship. As Michael Hicks has pointed out in his biography of Anne,7 Richard was much occupied during the latter half of 1471. Immediately after the Battle of Tewkesbury, rebels in Kent rose up in arms under the leadership of the Bastard of Fauconberg, an illegitimate son of Sir William Neville, and hence Warwick’s cousin. Richard was in Sandwich that May to subdue them, then up in the North to quell other pockets of insurrection, where Fauconberg was apprehended and beheaded that September. Gloucester was also about his own business, issuing grants in the North on 30 August, 4 and 6 October, 20 November and 11 December, leaving little time for a lengthy courtship. Lisa Hilton8 suggests the plan was hatched after Richard visited the Clarences at Christmas, which may be the occasion of Croyland’s kitchen maid story, when Anne was disguised or sent out of sight. Anthony Cheetham9 claims Richard already had Edward’s permission for the marriage as early as the summer and that Edward warned Clarence not to interfere, hence the subterfuge. It would have been in the king’s interests to allow the match to go ahead, in order to limit the degree of untrustworthy Clarence’s inheritance. The more money his middle brother had, the more potentially dangerous he could be. Whenever it happened, an agreement was reached before 16 February 1472, when Richard ‘facilitated’ Anne’s escape from Coldharbour House and her flight into sanctuary at the London church of St Martin-le-Grand. Did she climb out of a window, as Perkin Warbeck would do in 1499? Perhaps she lit a candle at midnight and watched for his dark shadow appearing on the lawns below. Whatever arrangements they made, Anne would have been waiting for him. Theories suggesting she was ‘abducted’ have failed to recognise that the majority of medieval cases involving heiresses use the term synonymously with ‘eloped’. Did she disguise herself and creep out of the gates at night? Did Richard come for her while Clarence was at Westminster or while Isabel slept?

  Established by William the Conqueror, the precincts of St Martin-le-Grand lay within the City’s walls, but were not subject to its jurisdiction, allowing the inhabitants a degree of freedom. It had long been a controversial place, with citizens complaining in 1402 of thieving apprentices and servants who were living there on the profit of stolen goods alongside murderers and robbers, although it was not until 1448 that a sheriff visited and introduced some semblance of justice. By 14
57, it was a slightly safer place to stay, as anyone arriving to take refuge there would first be stripped of all weapons and counterfeit goods, as well as being registered with the dean. On the outbreak of war, Dean Stillington supported the Yorkists, later being employed by Richard when he became king and may even have been the Robert Stillington, Archbishop of Bath and Wells, who was to play such a significant role in the fates of the Princes in the Tower, or else a relative of his.10 There Anne remained until July, whence she emerged to become Richard’s wife. Although the exact date of the ceremony is uncertain, 12 July 1472 has been suggested, based on the 1474 provisions in the event of their divorce and estimations that place the birth of their son in 1473. The twelfth was also the anniversary of Isabel and Clarence’s wedding.

  Anne has been accused of remarrying with indecent haste11 but the interval of fourteen months was by no means atypical of an era when new matches were often arranged with rapidity. Margaret Beaufort had been widowed after Anne, in October 1471, when her third husband finally succumbed to wounds he had sustained at the Battle of Barnet. Her fourth wedding was conducted the following June, to a man who had previously been her enemy, Thomas Stanley, Lord High Constable. This may well have been a marriage of convenience, as some historians have suggested, although it served Margaret and her son Henry Tudor well enough in 1485, and even if it was, its speed demonstrates how quickly mutually beneficial alliances could be forged across enemy lines. Equally, John Howard’s wife, Margaret, had married him within a year of being widowed. The alliance of man and woman could supersede previous dynastic ties. If Anne and Richard recognised each other as their best possible match, then why wait to secure the union and the inheritance? It is anachronistic to suggest otherwise, especially as Anne’s first marriage had been one of convenience. Michael Hicks writes that this unseemly ‘precipitate haste’ was not ‘what was expected’ at the time, accusing Anne of ‘cynical and calculating materialism’. Yet this is underpinned by modern romantic sentiments and cannot be supported as indecent ‘even by fifteenth century standards’. Rather, the proliferation of such connections, which Hicks acknowledges, cannot be ignored and is, in fact, probably the rule rather than the exception. Even Clarence would seek a Burgundian match for himself less than a year after Isabel’s death. If Anne did act with ‘cynical and calculating materialism’, she was only embracing the best means of advancement, by which most of her contemporaries had survived.