by Amy Licence
Around the time Cecily rose from her lying-in to be churched, bad news arrived from France. Under the regime of York’s replacement, the Duke of Somerset, French and English relations had been deteriorating for a while, with Charles VII complaining that he was now treated ‘in a style derogatory to the honour of the king and different from what he had been used to in times past by the Duke of York’.27 On 10 November, Rouen had been recaptured by the French, bringing the brief years of peace to an end. In a twist of fate, the conquering armies had been led by René of Anjou, the father of the new English queen. By the following summer, Somerset had lost almost all of England’s territories across the Channel in ineffectual and costly campaigns, and York could not help but be bitter about such a dramatic change, following the success of his own lieutenancy. Things were also turning sour for York’s other adversary, the Duke of Suffolk, appointed as Lord High Admiral since 1447. On the death of Henry VI’s other uncle, Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, Suffolk had been appointed Lord Chamberlain and was, in effect, the most powerful figure at court, after the king and queen. On 25 May 1447, York had been at Westminster to witness the accusation of disloyalty levelled against Suffolk, for relinquishing Anjou and other territories. Later it emerged that he had been conducting secret negotiations with France, possibly planning an invasion and betraying Parliamentary secrets; for this, he was impeached by the Commons in March 1450. He would be banished to Calais but, following a mock trial on board the ship carrying him, was beheaded and his body thrown overboard. It was later washed up near Dover beach. His adherent, Bishop Adam Moleyns, who had accused York of embezzlement, had been lynched by unpaid sailors in Portsmouth that January. It was to be the start of a turbulent year. Little by little, more news leaked through to Dublin.
For Cecily and Richard, the news was worrying but it also brought a vindication of the failings of their opponents. Already there had been a couple of minor uprisings early that year, in Kent, but by the summer, the rebels had swelled in number and rallied to the leadership of a Sussex man named Jack Cade. In early June, around 5,000 had gathered at Blackheath, demanding the end of fighting with France, high taxation and the removal of certain unpopular aristocrats, clergymen and even the king. The rebellion was crushed and Cade killed, but not before a number of leading figures had been killed, including the Bishop of Salisbury and Baron Saye. York was concerned to hear that Cade had been claiming descent from the Mortimer family, calling himself John Mortimer and that, in some quarters, this had developed into the belief that York himself had incited the men to rebel, before departing for Ireland. He and Cecily must have recognised this as a potentially dangerous turning point. Swift action was required to clear his name. He protested his innocence in a letter to Henry VI, which is included in Holinshed’s Chronicles:
I have been informed that divers language hath been said of me to your most excellent estate which should sound to my dishonour and reproach and charge of my person …
If there be any man that will or dare say the contrary or charge me otherwise, I beseech your rightwiseness to call him before your high presence and I will declare me for my discharge as a true knight ought to do.28
The response from Henry was reassuring, concluding that ‘in all such matters, we declare, repute and admit you as our true and faithful subject, and as our faithful cousin’.29 Yet, in the light of recent reprisals, York decided to return to England, to defend himself and perhaps to seize the moment. It also seems probable that he had decided to leave before the dispute broke, as he had been writing to Henry since the spring with some urgency regarding his finances in Ireland. In order to prevent the loss of certain territories he required more money, and when this was not forthcoming he wrote to Salisbury, saying that he would rather return to England than be known as the duke who had lost the province.30
Early in September, he and Cecily set sail from Dublin, possibly landing at Beaumaris, or maybe further down the Welsh coast, arriving in Denbigh on 7 September. His arrival caused a panic in Westminster, with troops sent to meet his ‘sodyn coming withouten certain warnyng’. With an army of between 3,000 and 5,000 armed men, it seems likely that he would have left Cecily and baby George at Ludlow or Fotheringhay as he marched on the capital. It is quite likely that she was already pregnant again at this point, with the son, Thomas, whom she would lose in either 1450 or 1451. Arriving in the capital, he rode proudly through the streets in a display of power, before lodging with the Bishop of Salisbury. The previous bishop, William Ainscough, had been unpopular for marrying Henry VI to Margaret of Anjou, and was murdered in the Cade Rebellion. The new incumbent was Richard Beauchamp, already known to York in his capacity of Bishop of Hereford. The property would have been Salisbury House, also known as Dorset House, based on Fleet Street, between Whitefriars and St Bride’s, with a frontage down to the river. Until they could acquire a suitable property of their own, York and Cecily were often lodged in the homes of their allies in London, forming an important part of their support network in the capital.
York presented his suit to the king, offering himself as a figure of reform. Henry was aware that many of the recent rebels had proposed the duke as an alternative ruler, so responded with caution. Soon after this, York left court, possibly disappointed that he had been offered no concession, but also satisfied that he was not under any immediate suspicion and was now back at the heart of government. That October, he was expected at Walsingham, according to a letter received by John Paston: ‘My Lord shall be atte Walsingham on Sonday next comynge and from thens he shall go to Norwich.’ The letter asked that York be given ‘as good attendance and pleasaunce’ as possible and that the City of Norwich ‘mete wyth him in the best wyse also’. In mid-October, he was in Bury St Edmunds, according to a letter from the Earl of Oxford to John Paston, describing how he met with the Duke of Norfolk and stayed with him until nine at night. On 17 October, he was at Fotheringhay and remained there for four days before he travelled to Ludlow, possibly with Cecily, for a stay of eight days.
In mid-November, York left his family behind and headed back to Parliament, to join in discussions regarding the defence of the realm. He knew it would prove controversial. Before he arrived, his close friend Sir William Oldhall was appointed Speaker of the House of Commons, which was an encouraging sign. When York arrived in London on 23 November, he rode with his sword carried upright before him, both provocative and defensive and a reminder of the recent challenges to his rightful status. The city crowds seemed to agree. Riots erupted among dissatisfied soldiers when the king refused to act against Somerset for his failures in Normandy; both Bale’s Chronicle and Benet’s Chronicles list their cries for vengeance and accusations that Somerset was a traitor. On 1 December, this led to an attempt to assassinate the former lieutenant, who escaped from Blackfriars by boat while his lodgings in the friary were sacked. Although the mob’s demands tallied well with York’s desires, giving rise to speculation regarding his involvement, Benet claims that Somerset was saved by the Duke of Devon, acting on York’s orders. In spite of their differences, he did not want to see London descend into chaos and, as a fellow duke in a closed dynastic world, it was in his interest to nip army insurrection in the bud. He helped to quell the uprisings when they spread to Hoo and Tuddenham and, according to Bale, Benet and Gregory, dispatched the ringleader to the Earl of Salisbury for execution. A procession headed by the king through the streets on 5 December seemed to restore order before Parliament broke up for Christmas. York left London on 19 December and spent the season at Stratford-le-Bow.
It is unclear whether Cecily and her children joined York in Middlesex. Stratford, or Bow, was a place that had some aspirations to culture and learning, even something of a finishing school, as Chaucer commented in The Canterbury Tales:
French she spake full fayre and fetisley
After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe
For French of Paris was to hire unknowe
They may have stayed at the nearby Priory o
f St Leonards or at the old palace at Oldford, still referred to as King John’s Palace and also as Giffing Place or Petersfield by the historian Leland. This appears to have been within the manor of Stepney, and sections of the building survived into the nineteenth century. Some ancient remains of a building blew down in a storm of January 1800, but a section of the original palace survived until September 1863, when it burned down. It had comprised twelve rooms, ‘standing on a kind of terrace, with elaborate chimney pieces and a large oaken staircase’.31 It had been in the possession of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, so may have passed into York’s hands on his decease. On New Year’s Day, he returned to London and was listed there again on 10 January and at the start of Parliament’s new session ten days later. This was an indicator of how critical the situation had become.
Once more, rumours and rioting spread through the city. Again, York’s claim to the throne seemed to be at the heart of the malcontents’ demands. In Kent, a Stephen Christmas is recorded in Gregory’s Chronicle as making claims that the king intended to harm the country and should be replaced by Richard. He was executed ‘for hyr talking a gayne the kyng, havynge maore favyr unto the Duke of Yorke thenne unto the kynge’. While it is likely that many Englishmen saw York as potentially better able to run the country than Henry, who appeared weak and easily led by his unpopular wife and the Duke of Somerset, this situation caused particular alarm as Christmas had been among York’s retinue in Ireland. Henry left the capital and York was excluded from government. It had appeared that he might be granted the earldom of Pembroke, which was vacant following the death of Suffolk. Instead, he found this was given to the queen and in 1452 was bestowed on the Lancastrian Jasper Tudor.
That summer, England lost the territory of Bordeaux, which reinforced York’s criticisms of Somerset. In July, a plan was reputedly hatched by Oldhall, York’s chamberlain, now Speaker of the Commons, to seize the king that September. Oldhall was then leasing the manor of Standon from York and a number of his men there were arrested. His name had already been raised in connection with Cade’s Rebellion, and York’s reputation was further damaged by this plot. That September there were also uprisings in York’s name at Ilminster and Yeovil, and then in Norfolk it was alleged that an Edward Clere had received letters from York attempting to incite further rebellion. Satirical verses penned by Sir William Tailboys, an enemy of York’s associate Lord Cromwell, were also circulated, naming the duke as a rival claimant to the throne. It is difficult to know exactly what role York himself played in these manifestations of discontent. Clearly, they worked in his favour to an extent, demonstrating support for him and voicing lack of confidence in the current regime. It is possible that he played a role in generating them, by inciting his retainers and supporters to raise trouble, but the sort of low-level nuisance they created only served to isolate him from government and decision-making. York was no fool; he knew that he would only succeed in his aims to oust Somerset by either taking direct action or by some concerted, large-scale effort. If so, these sporadic outbursts in his name must have been frustrating and damaging to his cause. By September he was in Southwark, probably staying at the house of Sir John Fastolf, with an army of 2,000 men.
That November, York’s supporter Thomas Yonge, MP for Bristol, proposed to the council that the duke should be named as Henry VI’s heir, for which he was sent to the Tower. York’s presence at the Parliamentary session bore little fruit and by the following year he was ready to use force. The family were at Ludlow again to observe Christmas and it was there, early in January 1452, that Cecily conceived again. It was probably her twelfth child, perhaps her thirteenth, but her last four pregnancies had only produced one surviving son. She would not yet have been aware of her condition, but it would have been apparent that conflict was brewing, as her husband lost patience with the continual goading of the Duke of Somerset and his allies. From Ludlow, Richard wrote a petition, dated 9 January, attempting once more to clear his name. He was aware that the king had ‘a distrust by sinister information of mine enemies, adversaries and evil-willers’, and had arranged to swear his loyalty to Henry upon the sacraments before the Bishop of Hereford and the Earl of Shrewsbury.32 The influence of these enemies was damaging York’s reputation with the king and hindering his advancement so, as the unofficial royal heir, he determined to move against them. One political satire of the time demonstrates that the view that Henry was being manipulated by Somerset and his agents, as well as a fear of general lawlessness, was widely held:
Trowth and pore men ben appressed
And mischief is nothing redressed
The kyng knowith not all …33
The family were still at Ludlow on 3 February, when Richard wrote ‘under his signet’ to the burgesses of Shrewsbury, asking for their support in his cause against his enemies. His letter is reproduced in Warkworth’s Chronicles, explaining that all his loyalty and efforts had been ‘of none effect, through the envy, malice and untruth of the said Duke of Somerset … [who] laboureth continually about the King’s highness for my undoing, and to corrupt my blood, and to disherit me and my heirs’. The final straw might have been the news that Oldhall had been forcibly ejected from sanctuary by the duke, who believed York’s chamberlain had been involved in an attack on one of his men. Oldhall was restored to St Martin’s-le-Grand, where he remained until 1455, but trouble was fomenting elsewhere too. A few days later, the Mulso brothers began to muster support at Fotheringhay, with the intention of joining with York on the way to London. Through his English estates, groups of men gathered in assemblies and hastened to the side of their lord. With a personal force of at least 8,000 troops, York marched south, arriving at Blackheath by the start of March. The Cottonian Roll ii 23 contains a detailed description of his encampment there, with York in the middle, flanked by Lord Devonshire on the south and Lord Cobham beside the Thames, with seven ships full of ‘ther stuff’.34 York declined to attack the king’s forces and welcomed the party sent to negotiate in the king’s name. He repeated his desire for the removal of Somerset, and a tentative agreement appeared to have been made to allow him to speak to Henry in person. After the king pledged his safety, York dismissed his men and entered the royal tent. It was a trick. Somerset was not required to answer to any of the articles York had submitted against him. Instead, the duke was forced to make a humiliating oath of loyalty to Somerset and promise to act ‘in humble and obeysant wise’. He was then sent to London, in the custody of two bishops. The news reached Cecily at Ludlow. York still had around 10,000 men in the Welsh Marches. According to the London chronicler Fabyan, York’s son Edward, now almost ten years old, called them to arms and rode at their head to the capital.
Did young Edward’s campaign actually happen? With the independence, determination and military precocity shown by Edward at the age of eighteen, it would seem to be in character. What role did Cecily play in it? Did she encourage her son or try to dissuade him from a potentially dangerous mission? She was two months pregnant at this point, perhaps suffering from the symptoms of the first trimester, but presumably she was aware of her son’s plans. Given that Fabyan was apprenticed around 1470, making a birthdate of the 1450s most likely, he cannot have been a witness himself, although he may have drawn on the memories of older friends and family. After all, he was born in London, and served as its sheriff, alderman and an auditor of its accounts, and was proposed as Lord Mayor in 1503. With the Patent Rolls for 1452 filled with the names of men who were granted pardons for supporting York that summer, it is not stretching credulity too far to suggest that Fabyan may have had access to first-hand knowledge.
News of her husband’s humiliation reached Cecily. On 10 March, York was forced to swear a public oath at St Paul’s Cathedral that he would not take up arms again. His bitter response, submitted to the House of Lords and preserved in the Cottonian Collection, made clear his reasons for resenting Somerset’s influence, particularly the losses he had incurred in France. After this, around 24 March,
York retreated to Ludlow. If his young son Edward had been marching south at the head of an army, York may well have intercepted them and brought them back home. Cecily would have been relieved to see them return. Further trouble rumbled on through the summer, with small uprisings in York’s name in Kent and Suffolk, and in May Oldhall was brought before the King’s Bench and indicted. York was in Ludlow that June, and Tickenhill, Bewdley, that July. In mid-August, Henry VI visited Ludlow as part of a progress to the west35 and would, no doubt, have been received and probably lodged in the castle. However, it seems that the duke was doing his best to avoid Henry, travelling to Fotheringhay and arriving there on 11 August.
At this stage, Cecily had less than six weeks to go before her next child was due. Presumably she gave the orders for the Ludlow household to be packed up and allowed others to carry them out; one source has the duke leaving Fotheringhay but returning by Michaelmas, 29 September.36 By 2 October, Cecily was definitely in Yorkshire, where she gave birth to a son. Later writers would describe this birth with much invented detail but there is no indication that it was anything other than a straightforward delivery. If Cecily was able to travel over 100 miles in the preceding weeks, the delivery is unlikely to have been the nightmare that chroniclers like John Rous and Thomas More would make it out to be. The Yorks named their new son Richard.
That December, Sir John Fastolf was a visitor at Fotheringhay. By this point the old soldier was over seventy, with a long and varied career in France as well as being a significant patron of the arts. Given his history serving under York in Normandy, he may well have been received as a welcome guest, but there was also financial business to transact. On 15 December 1451, the pair drew up an indenture, by which York handed over some of his personal jewels into Fastolf’s keeping as guarantee for a short-term loan of money. The items give an idea of the treasure in the family’s possession, much of it bearing their personal iconography: a ‘nowche of gold with a greet pointed diamond sette up on a roose enamelled white; a nowche of gold in facion of a ragged staf with 2 ymages of man and woman garnysshed with a ruby, a diamond and a greete peerle; and a floure of gold, garnysshed with 2 rubies, a diamond and 3 hanging pearls’. These covered a debt amounting to £437, which York was bound to repay by the Nativity of St John the Baptist, 24 June, upon which he would receive his jewels back.37 The timing of this may indicate York had bills he anticipated paying as a result of the Christmas season, possibly following the usual tradition of demonstrating his loyalty to the king and queen with expensive gifts.