Richard’s own understanding of the duties of a king, in particular the role of a monarch as law maker and upholder of justice, was central to the ideal of good government and good kingship. In his letter of instruction to Thomas Barret, the bishop of Enachden in Galway, Ireland, written later in the year, Richard gave further insight into his own philosophy of the duty and role of a king. It was the responsibility of ‘the king’s grace’ to ‘in no wise will our holy mother church to be wronged, but shall maintain it in every behalf as justice and right requireth. And over that to see that no manner robberies or extortions be suffered to be committed amongst any of the king’s subjects, of what estate so ever they be; them so offending utterly to be punished according with the king’s laws.’ It was also important that ‘by the passage of the common high ways the king’s subjects may be assured to go and pass without unlawfully letting’. The doer of all these actions, Richard believed, ‘may appear and be named a very justiciar as well for his proper honour and weal as for the common weal’.9 As Sir John Fortescue neatly summed up in his De Natura, ‘to fight and to judge are the office of a king’.10
Yet Richard seems to have been at times compromised when it came to upholding the duties of his office, and perhaps his own natural inclination, to secure ‘rest and peace and quiet among all our liege people’. While his official pronouncements condemned the seizure of forfeited land and the dangers of undermining the laws of inheritance, stating his personal commitment that he was ‘utterly determined all his true subjects shall live in rest and quiet, and peaceably enjoy their lands, livelihoods and goods according to the laws of this his land, which they be naturally born to inherit’, the reality at times could in fact be an entirely different story.11 The case of Richard’s servant, Richard Pole, highlights the king’s partiality towards his own men in legal cases. Pole had married the widow of John Stradling, with whom she had a son, Edward. The wardship of the child had been granted by Edward IV to Richard Fowler; after Fowler’s death, with the king’s permission, his widow passed the wardship on to Henry Danvers. As the young boy’s stepfather, Pole wanted Edward’s wardship for himself, and in April 1483 seized the boy. Danvers appealed to the law courts for help, and had managed to secure a hearing for his case by June 1483, yet a year later, in July 1484, Richard had agreed to grant the wardship to Pole, in consideration, the grant read, of his ‘true and thankful service’.12 Later it was claimed that both young Edward and his mother were murdered.13 It is perhaps hardly surprising that in 1485 a London attorney, William Crouch, publicly attacked the king for the poor quality of the king’s justice, only to find himself soon accused of having used seditious language.14
In early spring, Richard decided to make a progress northwards. By Tuesday, 9 March, he and Queen Anne had reached Cambridge, where they were warmly welcomed with a present of fish worth £6 5s, while the king’s minstrels were rewarded with a payment of seven shillings.15 The university had already benefited significantly from his patronage as duke, ever since his first endowment of fellowships at Queen’s College in 1477; now Richard was prepared to make an even more lavish donation, granting £300 towards the building of the church at King’s College, while several manors in Buckingham and Lincoln were to be granted to Queen’s College, and its president, Andrew Doket, received an annuity of £100.16
During the visit, Richard also took the opportunity to expand on his own religious beliefs and concerns, writing a circular letter to all the bishops across the country on 10 March, declaring that ‘amongst other our secular business and cures, our principal intent and fervent desire is to see virtue and cleanness of living to be advanced, increased and multiplied, and vices and all other things repugnant to virtue, provoking the high indignation and fearful displeasure of God, to be repressed and annulled’. First, this meant that an example needed to be set. This was to be ‘perfectly followed and put in execution by persons of high estate, pre-eminence and dignity’ in order that this would ‘enduceth persons of lower degree to take thereof example, and to ensue the same’. The instructions continued:
We therefore will and desire you and, on god’s behalf inwardly exhort and require you, that according to the charge of your profession you will see within the authority of your jurisdiction all such persons, as set apart virtue and promote the damnable execution of sin and vices, to be reformed, repressed and punished accordingly after their demerits, not sparing for any love, favour, dread or affection, whether the offenders be spiritual or temporal. Wherein ye may be assured we shall give unto you our favour, aid and assistance if the case shall so require and see to the sharp punishment of the repugnators and interrupters hereof if any such be. And if ye will diligently apply you to the execution and performing of this matter ye shall not only do god right acceptable pleasure, but over that we shall see such persons spiritual as been under your pastoral cure nor otherwise to be entreated or punished for their offences but according to the ordinances and laws of holy Church.
If any complaint ‘or suggestion be made unto us of you’, then the king was determined that the case be heard by the ecclesiastical court of the archbishop of Canterbury. The letter ended: ‘thus proceeding to the execution hereof ye shall do unto yourself great honour and unto us right singular pleasure’.17
The timing of the letter, written while Richard reflected in the company of Cambridge ecclesiastics, suggests that it had been written with the audience of his present company in mind, a statement designed to please. Yet Richard’s letter is still nonetheless remarkable in its tone and content. In contrast to his brother Edward, Richard’s understanding of monarchy seems to have been to take a direct interest in the morality of his subject’s souls. Already several of Richard’s proclamations had touched upon the issue of sexual morality, making mention of the marquess of Dorset’s relationship with Elizabeth Shore. Here, Richard had chosen to make the correction of morals a centrepiece of his kingship, with his talk of ‘cleanness of living’ now to be at the ‘principal intent’ of his business. Whether Richard could practically achieve this was a different matter; his intention for any complaints to be managed by the archbishop of Canterbury’s court suggests that he was willing to leave the practicalities to others. Rather than being simply politically inspired, Richard’s concern for the church seems to have stemmed from a personal sense of mission for correction and self-improvement.18 Richard also seems to have displayed a genuine love of theological scholarship. On 26 February, Richard agreed that his ‘well beloved’ scholar, John Bentley, would be granted an exhibition of four pounds annually to study at Oxford, citing ‘our charity and for the increase of virtue and cunning’.19 He surrounded himself with graduate scholars, with a marked preference for Cambridge graduates, many of whom were also steeped in the new humanist learning of Italy. In May 1483, Richard had appointed Dr Thomas Langton to the vacant see of St David’s: Langton, a northerner from Appleby in Westmorland, had been a student at Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, who had studied at Padua and Bologna, where he had taken a doctorate in canon law. Several months later, when the palatine see of Durham became available, he promoted another northerner. John Shirwood was the son of a town clerk of York and had been a protégé of Archbishop Neville of York, who had appointed him archdeacon of Middleham. Shirwood had studied at Cambridge and in Italy, being proficient in both Latin and Greek, and was one of the most distinguished humanists of the day. Richard thought highly enough of Shirwood to recommend him to the pope to be appointed a cardinal. John Gunthorpe, the dean of Wells, appointed Keeper of the Privy Seal in May 1483, was another Cambridge graduate whom Richard sought to promote; a former warden of King’s Hall, he had studied in Ferrara and was a talented Greek scholar.20 In September 1483, Richard appointed Thomas Barowe as Master of the Rolls; a northern Lincolnshire clerk who had been educated at Eton and in canon law at Cambridge, Barowe had been Richard’s chancellor while he was duke, pointing to the fact that many of these northern, Cambridge-educated scholars must have been introduced to Richard
before he became king. Perhaps Barowe, who was described at Cambridge as ‘to his mother the University a great and faithful lover’, knew Gunthorpe and Langton from his days at King’s Hall, and introduced them to his master.21 Alternatively, this close-knit circle of scholars, with remarkably similar backgrounds, came together as the result of the patronage of George Neville. Yet it seems that the king himself took an active and personal interest in ensuring he was surrounded by scholars who reflected his own religious tastes. Richard selected as his private chaplain John Dokett, another scholar at Eton and King’s College, Cambridge, who like Langton had studied at Padua and Bologna, and had become a doctor of canon law. Dokett had even written a commentary on Plato’s Phaedo; he was most likely a relation of Andrew Dokett, the president of Queen’s College, Cambridge, which benefited significantly from Richard’s patronage.22
Since Henry Tudor’s return to Brittany, Richard had been determined that the duchy would be made to pay the price for its sheltering and supporting him. On 18 December, Thomas Wentworth had been appointed captain of the fleet ‘set unto the sea to reconnoitre the fleet of our enemy of Brittany’.23 The mayor and aldermen of London were ordered to seize all Breton property and ships. A fierce naval war raged in the Channel between the two countries. Already no letters passed between Calais and London, because ‘the search was so straight’, the merchant William Cely complained, as Richard’s agents kept a close watch on Henry Tudor’s movements: ‘we could have no conveyance of no letters to London by no manner man’.24
The safety of the seas would remain a significant problem for Richard for months to come, yet Richard’s tactics worked. The spoils of confiscation and piracy against Breton ships began to pour into English ports. Duke Francis, by now fearing that the increase in English naval activity was merely the prelude to a seaborne invasion of his duchy, summoned all his subjects who owed military service and ordered all residents on the coast to maintain a constant watch for English ships.25 Richard was set on targeting not just the Bretons: on 12 February, he issued orders that ‘certain of our ships of war’ should be provisioned ‘to resist our enemies the Frenchmen, Bretons and Scots’. In his new-found confidence, Richard seemed to be inviting war on three fronts. In spite of the desire of the Scottish king, James III, for peace with England, his having sent peace missions in August and November, Richard remained determined to press ahead with a policy of peace achieved only through military action.26
On 18 February, the king sent letters to the gentry throughout the country, declaring that ‘we be fully determined, by God’s grace, to address us in person with host royal toward the party of our enemies and rebels of Scotland, at the beginning of this next summer’, and sending out a command that ‘you dispose you to serve us personally in the said voyage, accompanied and apparelled for war, according to your degree’.27 The campaign was planned for 1 May, with recipients of the letters to join Richard in Newcastle at the end of that month.
James III realised by now that any hope of a truce was pointless. On 24 February the Scottish Parliament issued commandments for all able-bodied men to be prepared to join James ‘for the defence of the Realm’, while preparations began for the raising of an army to besiege Dunbar in May, prompting Richard to order the castle’s refortification.28 By late March, Richard had commissioned four ships ‘to do service of war upon the sea in the north parts’.29 Richard’s own personal view of war against the Scots had been shaped by the years he had acted first as warden of the West March, then as lieutenant-general of the king’s army.30 It seemed that Richard was convinced he needed to end the incessant border raiding and recriminations through one final war.
In preparation, Richard wrote on 11 March to King Charles VIII of France, urging his ‘very dear cousin’ that his ambassador, Thomas Langton, was to visit the French court, in order to ‘explain to your majesty in our name certain matters concerning us’.31 Langton himself was granted a ‘special mandate’ to ‘treat, communicate, agree and conclude’ a truce ‘or abstinences from war both by land and sea’.32 Langton would not arrive at the French court for several months, however, by which time he was too late.
Already Richard’s naval operations had terrified the French into believing that the English were about to launch an attack. In response, they had already reached out for allies, including the Scots. On 13 March, James III concluded with a French embassy a reconfirmation of the ‘auld alliance’, restating their old agreement for mutual assistance if either country were attacked by the English. In their desperation, on 5 April 1484, a French delegation, led by three councillors of Charles VIII, arrived in Brittany promising support for a new English venture under Henry Tudor. In reality, the French king hoped that another invasion would distract Richard’s naval fleet from the damaging piracy that was affecting French ships, at the same time as potentially weakening any prospect of English support for Francis against a French invasion of the duchy. The offer was too generous for Francis not to suspect that the French had their own agenda, but, nevertheless, work began on preparing a small fleet with French support, a flotilla of six ships from the ports of Morlaix, Saint-Pol-de-Léon and Brest, carrying 890 men. Richard’s foreign policy and its aggression towards both France and Scotland was proving to be solely to Henry Tudor’s benefit.
Already rumours had begun to circulate that the exiled rebels planned to land in England, ‘together with their leader, the earl of Richmond’, whom they ‘had sworn fealty, as to their king’, hoping that ‘a marriage would be contracted with King Edward’s daughter’. ‘The king was better prepared to resist them in that year than he would have been ever at any time afterwards, not only because of the treasure which he had in hand’, the Crowland chronicler believed, ‘but also because of the specific grants made and scattered throughout the kingdom.’ In order to buy their loyalty, the nobility were rewarded by the king with a succession of annuities; over the next two months, a stream of grants ensued.33 Over the next eighteen months, over sixty annuities and grants of land for life were issued, costing the king easily over £1,000 a year. Richard relied heavily on his own northern lordships to make up the balance. At Barnard Castle, the king granted away £143 from an annual revenue of £300; at Middleham, new grants of land and annuities cost the lordship £400, and at Sheriff Hutton £350. It has been estimated that three-quarters of the value of Richard’s Yorkshire lordships had been alienated or was being consumed by fees and annuities.34
Richard had also ‘found time for the defence of his territories’, planning a fresh network of communications, which would ensure that any news of landings on the coast would be instantly relayed back, following ‘a new method, introduced by King Edward at the time of the last war in Scotland, of allocating one mounted courier to every 20 miles; riding with the utmost skill and not crossing their bounds’, the messengers were capable of carrying ‘messages 200 miles within two days without fail by letters passed from hand to hand’. In a letter written by Richard in April, the king revealed that ‘we have appointed and ordained certain of our servants to lie in divers places and towns betwixt us and the west parts of this realm, for the hasty convenience of tidings and of all other things for us necessary to have knowledge of’. If any royal servant needed a horse ‘for their hasty speed to or from us’ they were to be provided with ‘ready money’, while if they happened to be travelling at night, they were to be supplied with guides.35 In addition, Richard had ‘provided himself with spies overseas, at whatever price he could get them, from whom he had learned almost all the movements of his enemies’.36 In preparation for either his military ventures or defence of the realm, payments were granted for cannon, gunpowder and ordnance, as well as carpenters and gun makers.37
News of Tudor’s activities had also prompted Richard to increase his diplomatic overtures. On 28 February 1484, Richard wrote to the pope, offering ‘our most humble commendation and most devout kissing of your holy feet’. He had planned to ‘inform your holiness before this of our assumption of
the rule and crown of this our kingdom’, but was forced to delay any correspondence, explaining that ‘this indeed was in our mind, and we would most willingly have done so, had not the unexpected perfidy and evil conspiracy of certain people hostile to us, to loyalty and their oath prevented us from conveniently doing this’. Now Richard sent Thomas Langton with messages to the papacy, whom he described in a separate letter on 10 March as ‘our very dear and most faithful counsellor and spokesman who knows the secrets of our heart’.38
On or around 9 April 1484, a year since Edward IV’s death, Richard’s son and sole heir, Edward, Prince of Wales, died at Middleham Castle, having been ‘seized with an illness of but short duration’. He had not even yet entered his teenage years, though he was considered old enough to have been summoned for the opening of the Parliament earlier in the year.39
Only glimpses of Edward’s life can be gleaned from the surviving accounts at Middleham for the previous year; he had made a journey to the abbeys of Jervaux, Coverham, Wensleydale, Fountains and Pontefract, where he had made offerings of 15s, 20d, 2s 6d and 4s, while a chariot had been constructed to take him from York to Pontefract after his coronation as Prince of Wales. Other purchases included a book of hours, covered in black satin, and a psalter, a gown of grey cloth, 6s 8d, to ‘Metcalf and Peacock for running on foot beside my lord prince’, probably when he was journeying in his chariot, and 100 shillings for the wages of Jane Colyns, who must have been the prince’s official maidservant.40 Other items that must have belonged to the prince included an illuminated manuscript of the popular military treatise De Re Militari by Vegetius, decorated with the English royal arms surrounded by two boars and, at the bottom of the page, a griffin, Edward’s insignia as earl of Salisbury, suggesting that the manuscript had been specially commissioned for the young boy in preparation for his forthcoming military education.
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