by Licence, Amy
Yet some historians, like Michael Hicks, have suggested that Richard and Anne should never have married. In Anne Neville (2007), he identifies a technical glitch which he claims should have prevented the ceremony from going ahead. According to the standards of the day, certain matches were forbidden because those involved were within degrees of affinity or relation, either through birth, existing marriages or spiritual connection. Hicks has rightly identified that the need for papal dispensations has been ‘downplayed’ by historians who regard the process as a ‘curious technicality’, a ‘necessary mechanism to remove technical obstacles to what ought to have been perfectly acceptable’. The twenty-first-century mind may not find it strange to accept that the dispensation was required at the time but, rather, that like indulgences, it seems strange that a piece of paper can somehow wipe these ‘impediments’ clean away. With the English aristocracy drawn from such a limited gene pool, many matches required this action, including Anne’s first marriage with Edward of Westminster and Isabel’s union with Clarence. Then, as now, to wed without the necessary paperwork created problems. For the late medieval couple, an illegal and immoral marriage would not only be invalid in the eyes of the law, but any children born to them would be illegitimate, with all the repercussions for inheritance. In addition, both parties risked the very real medieval fear of eternal damnation. However, this did not have to prevent such a match and there were precedents of marriage between pairs of siblings. The impediment would only have applied if Anne had had relations with Clarence or Richard with Isabel. At any rate, it did not stop the Gloucesters. As a deeply religious man, Richard would not have countenanced making an invalid marriage; even with the ongoing dispute for Anne’s inheritance; if further dispensations had been required, and there is no reason why they should not have been issued, the couple did not need to pre-empt them. As members of the aristocracy, they were well aware of the importance of legitimacy: neither would have risked the possibility of their future children’s inheritances being called into question.
Marriages contracted without the relevant paperwork did sometimes attract attention but it was usually when one of the parties had a vested interest in doing so. Among the Vatican papers, a case exists from Ireland in August 1473, when an Ellen Cantwell petitioned that Richard Boteller contracted a union with her, ‘solemnized it with banns and consummated it’. The pair had children and lived together for year until it emerged that he had previously been married to a close relative of his, named Cathelina Boteller, ‘without having obtained papal dispensation’. The ruling upheld Ellen as his legal wife.12 Similarly, in March 1485, John Yve of Derby and Emmota, widow or ‘relict, of Roger Lyversiche’, were given a dispensation to ‘remain in the marriage’ they had contracted ‘in ignorance that the said Roger had been godfather to a child of the said John and the late Joan his wife’. If this was not enough, John had also been godfather to Emmota’s child by Roger, but the union received the stamp of legitimacy ‘notwithstanding the impediment of spiritual relationship arising’.13 The papal records are full of such cases, contemporary with the alliance of the Gloucesters. The minimum paperwork they required was the dispensation to provide for the case of affinity stemming from the sibling tie between Richard’s mother, Cecily Neville, and Anne’s grandfather, Richard, Duke of Salisbury. The couple shared mutual ancestors in the same way that Anne had with Edward of Lancaster, so a similar dispensation would have been required to that of her first match. The paperwork was issued on 22 April 1472. It probably arrived in England around June.
It seems plausible that Anne and Richard’s marriage was celebrated that summer. If there had been a large celebration, or if the occasion had been marked at Westminster, a record would have survived, which suggests they became man and wife in a small, comparatively private way. Richard was the sixth and final of Cecily of York’s children to get married: she had disapproved of Elizabeth Wydeville as a daughter-in-law but may have been more receptive to Clarence’s match with Isabel once that union had been accepted by the king. Her relationship with Anne was to develop into a close one, so perhaps she now proved a friend to the young couple. She may have offered her London home of Baynard’s Castle as a venue for their marriage, where Edward had proclaimed himself king in 1461 and where Richard would do in 1483. Later, Richard would rent Crosby Hall, or Place, an impressive building of 1466 in Bishopsgate, but this did not happen until well after the marriage, when it was still in the hands of Anne Crosby, widow of its constructor. Shakespeare refers to it anachronistically in Act 1, Scene 2 of Richard III, when Richard, still as Gloucester, urges Anne to repair there after the burial of Henry VI although, in fact, he was not resident at the property until the late 1470s at the earliest. Alternatively, the church of St-Martin-le-Grand may have provided them with a convenient location for a quick ceremony, or they may have travelled north together to one of the chapels or churches associated with a York or Warwick property. As they were to spend most of their married life at Middleham, the nearby church of St Mary and St Alkeda, which Richard designated as collegiate in 1478, may have witnessed the nuptials. The wedding night would have been spent wherever was convenient after the ceremony and was likely to have been successfully consummated, as suggested dates for the arrival of the couple’s son could place his conception early in the marriage. By the time she was due to give birth, Anne was settled as Richard’s wife, Duchess of Gloucester, in her childhood home of Middleham.
9
Richard’s Wife
1472–1483
With love founded on profit, pleasure and honesty
then shall true friendship reign among you.1
For the next decade, the rule of Edward IV went unchallenged. His queen, Elizabeth Wydeville, bore five more children to add to the existing five and, with the death of Henry VI and Queen Margaret effectively silenced, it looked as if the Yorkist regime was finally secure. Richard and Anne retreated to their estate at Middleham Castle, where they settled into the roles of a great northern magnate and his wife. The seals from surviving documents relating to Richard’s activities indicate that he spent most of his time at the castle, which was their primary residence, although they also owned Sheriff Hutton, which was useful for its proximity to York and a number of other properties. Richard was to play an important role in government during this time, ruling the Earl of Warwick’s old lands in the name of his brother. He regularly attended Parliament, travelling south in the autumn of 1472 for the first session since his marriage and leaving his young wife behind, although they were probably reunited for their first Christmas. Anne bore a son early in the marriage and established herself as the head of the Ducal household, even deputising for her husband in his absence. There was nothing to suggest the pair would not live out happy, quiet lives, raising their child among the rolling hills of Anne’s childhood home.
Today it is possible to get a sense of the majesty of the couple’s home, even though the building stands in ruins. Middleham was entered across a traditional defensive moat and drawbridge, either into the castle’s east gatehouse or the gatehouse to the north. Both gave into a courtyard which was flanked by the chapel and the massive keep, where a staircase led up to the Great Hall. The chapel’s surviving masonry gives an idea of the extent of the huge arches on third-story level and the little niches and pedestals that would have contained statues and devotional items. The impressive keep, with its reconstructed wooden steps, stood over the cellars, while the inner chamber was warmed by the kitchens below. Wooden bridges linked the upper levels to the garderobe or latrine block, the Lady’s Chamber and Prince’s Tower, where Anne is rumoured to have given birth.
The arrival of Edward of Middleham has usually been placed around 1473 or 1474, although Charles Ross has put it as late as 1476. His case has been based on the boy’s investiture as Prince of Wales in August 1483, when he is described in one account as being around seven. Edward had certainly arrived by April 1477, when a licence was granted to the manor and church of
Fulmere, Cambridge, for prayers to be said for ‘the king’s brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester and Anne, his consort and Edward, their son’.2 Then, in 1478, the boy was given Anne’s grandfather’s title of Earl of Salisbury. Anne may well have conceived just days after her wedding, as Isabel had, allowing for the first of the possible dates of delivery in the late spring or summer of 1473, while The Peerage gives December of that year as his birth month.
At seventeen, Anne was relatively young to become a mother, although a number of her aristocratic contemporaries had already done so by that age. When she was certain she was expecting, after the baby had quickened, she would have prepared linen and furnished her chamber in the tower with bed and cradle, making sure that draughts were excluded. Supplies would have been ordered and it would have been scrubbed thoroughly clean, perhaps even given a fresh coat of paint or plaster before her lying-in. Possibly it was Anne’s pregnancy that prompted Richard to rescue his mother-in-law from her confinement in Beaulieu Abbey that May, sending Sir James Tyrell south to fetch her, even though Clarence was ‘not agreed’ to the arrangement. The Rous Roll stressed the countess’s proficiency in, and fondness for, the birth chamber, so it is possible that she was present at Middleham for the delivery itself. A midwife and local women would have cared for Anne during those final months, as well as a physician, although the period of confinement was exclusively female. As she was on her home territory, there is a fair chance that some or all of them may have been part of the household since her infancy, perhaps even the nurses and governess of her own childhood. It is not impossible that Cecily Neville, Duchess of York, travelled from London or the nearby Fotheringhay to attend her daughter-in-law, with whom she was reputedly on good terms. As her time approached, Anne took mass in the castle chapel and withdrew from the household routine, sequestering herself in the tower to await her labour. There was little to alleviate her pain beyond herbal remedies and the panacea of devotional objects. The risks were high, gynaecological understanding and standards of hygiene were poor, but Anne had youth on her side. Her son arrived safely.
Baby Edward had his own household staff and routine within Middleham Castle. The traditional association of one tower of the building with him may well have a basis in fact, suggesting his location of birth and the nursery that his parents established. A payment made in the Calendar Rolls of 1484 sheds a little light on the identities of those who cared for Edward, with an Isabel Burgh, wife of Henry, receiving from Richard ‘an annuity of twenty marks’ for ‘good service’ to his family.3 The Burgh family’s connection with Middleham went back even further. In 1471, an indenture was made between Richard and Squire William Burgh, allotting him an annual income from the nearby farm of Sleighholme in return for his loyalty.4 Three years later, an Alice Burgh, described as Richard’s ‘beloved gentlewoman’, was granted a £20 annuity for life from Middleham for ‘certain special causes and considerations’. Michael Hicks suggests the Burghs were a local gentry family from Knaresborough, although the connection may have been even closer. In fact, they may have been related to the Yorks, if William’s family was a branch of the Irish de Burgh family, from which Richard’s great-great-grandmother Elizabeth came. Hicks also proposes that the ‘beloved gentlewoman’ with her ‘special causes’ was Richard’s mistress.
The nursery was presided over by an Anne Idley, an Oxfordshire woman who had been widowed around the time of Edward’s birth. When she left her home, Drayton Manor, for Middleham, her stepson refused to pay her the annuity they had agreed, leading Richard to intervene to ensure the debt was settled. Ironically, Anne’s late husband Peter had written a book of manners, or education, for the rearing of boys, called Instructions to his Son. While Idley Junior may not have benefited from his advice, Edward of Middleham did. The text advised a son to:
thy fadre and modre thow honoure
As thou wolde thy son shold to the…
And in rewarde it is geve vnto the
The blessyng of thy fadre and modre.5
It is tempting to consider the Instructions as a manual which the widow Anne Idley and the duchess used with Edward. In it the boy was reminded that his ‘fadre in age is, whiche now thy helpe is and favoure’, which should serve as a reminder to negligent youth that ‘after warme youth coometh age coolde’. Although many similar manuals existed, Edward’s access to this text encourages speculation as to the lessons he was taught and, by projection, the man and king he might have become. Idley advocated discretion and consideration, keeping ‘within thi breste that may be stille’ and not letting the tongue ‘clakke as a mille’. The avoidance of unnecessary conflict and the giving of offence are considered important facets of personal control:
A grete worde may cause affray
And causeth men ofte to be slain
Thus tonge is cause of moche pain.6
In fact, wariness and secrecy were a constant theme in the book: Idley advocates a boy to ‘keep cloos all thing, as thombe in fiste’, and ‘lete mekenes euer be thy Rayne’, as ‘many in this world wyde haue been cast adoun for their grete pride’. Also, ‘while thy counceill is within thy breste, it is sure as within a castell wall’, so a child should ‘keep thy tonge and keep thy frende’. He should be lowly and honest to rich and poor, in both word and deed, respectful of his masters and superiors. Idley warned that games and japes were likely to backfire and that evil company could taint and bring a boy into mischief. Friendship was the greatest treasure the author could recommend, as more precious than silver or gold and that a man without friends was a man without a soul. He should not be too hasty in making promises to friends or foe, or too quick to take vengeance. Equally, he should not ask for advice when he was angry as ‘it is harde than the trouthe to feele’ nor accept it from those who were ‘greene’ or inexperienced.7
Some of Richard III’s critics have accused him of being driven by ambition and avarice, in the Shakespearean model. Idley’s manual contains advice for the boy to ‘flee the counceill of a man covetous’, whose desire for worldly goods could make a man ‘leese both lande and house’. Some of the following lines sound almost like the Bard’s presentation of Edward’s father:
He can shewe two facis in oon hode
Many a traitour is of his bloode
He causes other many theeves
A woman vicious in divers places
Men to be slayn in feldis and in greeves.8
Interestingly, as Edward’s father would find, Idley warns ‘a man may somtyme wade so depe, it passeth his power to turn ageyn’. The young boy at Middleham may have made a wise and cautious monarch, had he lived long enough to put Idley’s advice into practice.9
If Edward arrived in the August of 1473, all three York brothers were the fathers of children who were born that month. At Shrewsbury, the queen, Elizabeth Wydeville, was delivered of Richard, Duke of York, younger of the two Princes in the Tower, while Isabel, Duchess of Clarence, had a daughter named Margaret, at Farleigh Hungerford Castle, in Somerset. It is difficult to know to what extent the inheritance dispute affected the relationship between the sisters; the battle had been fought between Richard and Clarence but Anne and Isabel may never have been fully reconciled. It is not even certain whether Anne visited London during these years, perhaps keen to keep away from the Wydeville family, whom her father had so disliked, and all the memories associated with his death. Geography provided a neat divide too, with the marriage settlement allotting land in the north to the Gloucesters while the Clarences were favoured with property in London and in the South, including Warwick’s town house, the Erber. When Isabel’s son Edward was born in February 1475, though, she was at Warwick, and less than a year later, she was pregnant again, going into confinement at Tewkesbury, where she had inherited the legacy of her maternal Despenser grandmother. She was delivered of another boy on the sixth, whom she named Richard. The choice may have been in memory of Warwick, although it might also indicate a reconciliation with her sister and her husband. By extension, Glouc
ester may even have been godfather.
Edward was to be Anne’s only child, although later miscarriages and stillbirths cannot be ruled out. The documenter of her family, John Rous, would not have been aware of them in his retreat at Guy’s Cliffe, near Warwick, and such losses were not always recorded retrospectively. In this, the Clare Roll that lists all Richard’s lost siblings is a rare and unusual survival. No other record remains of the duchess experiencing any unsuccessful pregnancies, or losing children at birth. As Lisa Hilton suggests, Anne may have suffered from tuberculous endometritis, a symptomless disease that causes infertility and possibly also affected her mother and sister. Richard, however, was the acknowledged father of two children, with rumours of a third. Their ages suggest they were the result of liaisons conducted before his marriage, in the late 1460s or early 1470s. His son, John of Pontefract, or Pomfret, may have been borne by the Alice Burgh, who received a payment of 20 marks a year in 1474, according to Michael Hicks. She was probably a local woman, related to Edward’s wet nurse, Isabel Burgh, which may date their affair either to Richard’s late teens or the early years of his marriage. However, it is more likely that John’s conception probably occurred during Richard’s year-long residency at Pomfret Castle, from April 1471, making the boy twelve when was knighted at York in 1483. This would place his conception around the time of Anne’s exile in France and marriage to Edward of Westminster, when Richard himself was eighteen. His mother was likely to have been a woman living in Pontefract, with whom the young duke sought solace. John was possibly under the guardianship of Robert Brackenbury, who was with him in 1484 when they stopped over in Canterbury, en route to Sandwich, and dined on pike, leavened bread and wine. In March 1485, he was made captain of Calais and there are indications that Richard would have considered him his ‘spare heir’.