On this day: 25 April

1457

John Nevill marries Isobel Ingoldisthorpe in Canterbury. The ceremony was officiated by Archbishop Bourchier. Isobel was the daughter of Edmund Ingoldisthorpe (dec) of Borough Green and Joan Tiptoft, sister of the Earl of Worcester. Tiptoft was said to have ‘brought about’ the marriage. John was 27 and Isobel was 15. A payment of £1,000 pounds, in ten instalments, was to be paid to Margaret of Anjou, who held Isobel’s lands in wardship. Though at least some of this money was paid, a petition to parliament questioned both the payment and the wardship, as Isobel was 14 (and therefor of age) at the time of her father’s death. (www.british-history.ak.uk – Henry VI’s 1460 parliament) Below is the final clause in the petition.

Wherfore, please it your highnes tendirle to considre the premyssez, and theruppon by the advise and assent of your lordes spirituall and temporall, and of your communs, in this present parlement assembled, to ordeine and establyssh, by auctorite of þe same parlement, that the seid reconysauncez and ychone of theme, be voide and of none effect ne value; and also that women beyng of the age of .xiiij. yere at tyme of deth of thaire auncestres, withoute question or difficulte, have livere of their londes and tenementez to them descended, for so the lawe of this londe will that then thei shuld have; and the seid John and Isabell shall pray to God for youre most noble astate.

1464

Battle of Hedgely Moor. A resounding victory for John Nevill, now Lord Montagu.

1472

Isobel Ingoldisthorpe, widow of John Nevill, marries William Norreys. As Norreys was a servant of Edward IV, the king may have brought this marriage about.

On this day: 14 April

1470

Edward IV arrives at Exeter to find that Warwick and Clarence have left for Calais. He leaves his sword behind as a reminder that he is king.

1471

Battle of Barnet and the deaths of Richard Nevill earl of Warwick, John Nevill marquess Montagu and Humphrey Bourchier lord Cromwell, husband of Jane Stanhope.

 

On this day: 30 March

1461

John Nevill lord Montagu, a prisoner of the Lancastrians since the 2nd battle of St Albans, is freed in York by his brother Warwick and Edward IV, fresh from the victory at Towton.

A flurry of letters sent northwards

Having found this the other day, I decided to go through it page by page, culling anything of interest. So far, I’ve found a lot of things of interest! I can’t print it, nor can I find a way to clip and save pages, so I’m transcribing stuff as it comes up. A series of letters between the King (via his council) to various lords, knights and squires of the north, mentioned in my posts on the Nevill-Percy feud, I now have on my hard drive. I should like to share them with you, if I can pray your indulgence. Some of them are either copies of others, or contain chunks of repeated text. They begin with quite confident peremptoriness – summonses to appear before council – please explain letters, and end with a somewhat weary plea to both Lord Egremont and John Nevill to just knock it off already!

Had Henry VI not become ill, and had York’s (almost) first act on being named Protector and Defender not been to high tail it north to sort it all out, it may have dragged on for years and ended very badly… It is the opinion of some that the feud did drag on for years and ended more than badly for just about all the men involved.

From the king to Lord Egremont, 7 June 1453

 By the King

 Right trusty and welbeloved. For certain greet causes and considerations suche as move us and as most of reson sitte us night to hert we will and neverthelesse straitely charge you y^t all excusations leide aparte ye in alle haste possible seen thees oure letters come personally unto oure presence to here and understand suche things as then shalbe opened unto you on oure behalf and we woll that ye faille not herein in any wyse and as ye love and tender oure worship and welfare. Yeven tc at Westm the vjj day of Juyn the yere tc xxxj.

From the king to John Nevill, 26 June 1453

By the King

Trusty and welbeloved. It is come to oure knowlache how by occasion of certaine discords and debates moeved betwyx you and the Lord Egremond divers things and novelries contrarie to oure pees have of late daies been committed betwixt you into grete trouble and vexation of oure countree and sugitts there with the whiche demeanyng of reason we may not be well content wherefore and for other causes moevyng us we woll and in the straitest wyse charge you that in alle hast possible after the recevyng of these oure letters ye comme and appere before us and oure counsaille to here and understand suche matiers as shalbe opened to you at your commyng and also that in the meane tyme ye kepe oure pees nothing doing or attempting by your self nor suffering to be doo or attempted by any of youres that may be to the offense or hurt of the same oure pees not levyng this oure commaundement upon the faith and ligeance that ye owe unto us. Yeven tc at Westm the xxvi day of Juyn the yere tc xxxj.

To oure trusty and welbeloved John Neville knyght son to oure right trusty and welbeloved cousyn therle of Salesbury

From the king to Lord Egremont, 26 June 1453

By the king

Divers tymes herebeofre we have yeve you in commaundment by oure letters for suche causes as moeved us to have be and appered before us and our counsaille at daies and place conteigned in the same to the whiche oure letters and commaundment ye in no wyse obeying have differed so to appere as ye yit doo wheof we not w^t oute cause gretely mervaille and take it to displesir willing for so muche and in the straitest wyse charging you eftesones that in all hast possible seen thees oure leeters ye come and appere personally befor us and oure saide counsaille to here and understand that shalbe laide before you at youre commyng and over this that in the meane tyme ye bere and kepe the pees ayenst alle oure subgetts no thing doing or attempting nor suffryng to be doo or attempted by any of yours in any wyse to the contrarie and yat ye faille not in execution of this oure commaundment or any part therof upon the faith and ligeance that ye owe unto us. Yeven at Westm the xxvj day of Juyn the yere tc xxxj.

This having got them nowhere, king and council appealed to their fathers.

From the king to the earl of Salisbury, 27 July 1453

Right trusty and welbeloved cousyn. For as moch as we be acertaigned by credible information that of late dayes grete assembles and riottous gaderings of people have be made in the shire that ye dwelle in as wel by yur sone S^r John Nevill knyght as other persones unto right grete vexation and trouble of oure contre and subgitts there directly ayenst oure laws and pees by ye which to grete an inconvenience were like to ensew if it were not hastily purveyed for. We therfor write unto you at this tyme exhorting and in ye straitest wise also charging that ye by all the ways and meanes possible unto you doo your effectuell labour and diligences that the said assembles and gaderings of people be pute downe and utterly ceesed and that ye see our pees be kept by you and yours not suffering any thing to be doo or attempted to the contrary by any personne as ferforth as ye shall mowe and over this that our trusty and welbeloved counsailler William Lucy knyght and other our commissionours which we sende thider as it accordeth for our honnour and worship and the conservation of oure laws not levyng this upon the faith and ligeaunce that ye owe until us. Yeven tc at Westm the xxfij day of Juyll.

Item semble to therle of Northum for his son the Lord Egremond

In letters to Egremont and John Nevill, king and council attempt to show their teeth with threats of forfeiture. They were ignored.

From the king to Lord Egremont and to sir John Nevill, son of the earl of Salisbury.

This letter is undated, but it was probably written on or about 27 July 1453.

By the King

Right trusty and welbeloved. For as moche as we be credibly enfourmed yat divers riottous assembles and gaderings of people have of late dayes be made in the contree yat ye dwelle in and so yit continue to the which ye have take upon you to be leder and so yit be contrary unto our laws and to greet trouble of oure pees and subgetts there. We wol and in the straitest wyse charge you yat incontinent seen yees oure letters ye putting downe and departing of all suche assemblees and gaderings kepe oure pees and be obeying unto oure commissioners yat we sende yider at yis tyme for the cause of the which we have deputed and ordeigned oure trusty and welbeloved counsailler William Lucy knight to be oon and we wol yat ye faile not herein upon peyne of forfaiteur of all your goodes and lands and upon ye faith and ligeance yat ye owe unto us. Yeven tc at Westm ye

To ye Lord Egremond

Item to oure trusty welbeloved John Nevill knight sonne to our right trusty and welbeloved cousyn the Erle of Salesbury

If striking at the head doesn’t work, perhaps if their support trickled away John and Egremont would be forced to settle down. A wide net was cast in the next few letters. It didn’t make a shred of difference. The second letter has no specific addressee/s.

From the king to sir John Conyers, sir James Pickering and others, 27 July 1453

By the King

It is comen to oure knowlach how diverse riottes routes and gaderings of people contrary to oure lawes and pees of late dayes have be made and yit contynue in the shire and contree that ye dwelle in unto grete trouble and vexation of oure subgitts there by occasion whereof irreparable inconveniences were like to folowe that God forbide olesse than hasty provision were made in this behalfe of the which routes and gaderings ye have be a grete sturer and moever and also leder wherof we gretely marvaille and take it as we nedes must to right grete displesire. For as moche as we wol and in the moste straiteest wyse charge yowe that ye surceesing of alle such gaderings and riots making and thoo that so been made deviding and utterly ceesing kepe oure pees noo thing attempting or doing or suffering to be doo or attempted by any of youres or other any thing contrarie to oure pees and more over that ye duely be obeying unto oure trusty and welbeloved counsailler William Lucy knyght an other oure commissioners whiche we sende at this tyme thidre for the said cause in all things concernyng thexecution of oure laws and conservation of oure pees not levyng soo to doo upon pein of forfaiteur of alle youre landes and goodes and upon the faith and ligeaunce that ye owe unto us. Yeven under oure prive seell at Westm the xxvij day of Juyll.

To John Conyers
James Pekering
Rauffe Randolf                             knyghts
Thomas Mouneforth
Ric of Aske
Rauf Neville
Thomas Sewer                            squiers
John Aclom

From the king on the same subject, 27 July 1453

By the King

Trusty and welbeloved. For asmoche as we have understand by credible reporte made unto us howe yat by unlawefull assembles and gaderings of people made in divers parties in ye countree yat ye dwelle ynne ye same oure contree and subgitts yerof have be and been gretely troubled vexed and uneased we sende yider at this tyme oure trusty and welbeloved counsailler William Lucy knyght with oure letters of commission with oyer to enquire of suche matters and to doo yat may be to ye reformation of yat is doon oyerwyse yan oure lawe wold and so to conservation of keping of oure pees. For so muche we write unto you exhorting praying and neverthelesse charging you upon ye feight and trouth yat ye owe unto us yat at such tyme as ye shall be required by oure said counsailler ye favoure and assiste him by alle menes to you possible in all ying yat may concerne thexecution of oure lawes ye levying downe and ceesing of such assembles and gaderings ye keping of oure pees and good rule and tranquyllitee of oure saide contree and subgitts and yat ye faille not herein in any wyse. Yeven tc at Westm the xxvij day of Juyll

And to the younger Percy brothers, amongst others…

From the King to sir Ralph Percy, Richard Percy, sir John Penyngton and others, 10 August 1453

By the King

It is comen to oure knowlache howe divers riottes routes and gaderings of people contrarie to oure laws and pees of late dayes have be made and yit continue in the shire and contree that ye dwelle in unto greet trouble and vexation of oure subgetts yere by occasion whereof to irreparable inconvenience were like to folowe that  God forbide olesse thane hasty provision were made in this behalf of the whiche riottes and gaderings ye may be a greet sturrer and moever and also leder as we be right credibly enformed wherefore we greetly mervaille and take it as we nedes must to right greet displesir. For so moche as we woll and in the moost straitest wise charge you that ye surceesing of all such gaderings and routes making and thoo that so ben made dividing and utterly ceesing kepe oure pees noo thing attempting or doing or suffering to be do or attempted by any of yours or other asmoche as in you is any thing contrarie to oure pees and moreover that ye duely be obeying to oure trusty and welbeloved counsailler William Lucy knyght and other oure commissioners whiche we sende at yis tyme yider for the saide cause in alle yinge concernyng the execusion of oure lawes and conservation of oure pees not levyng so to doo upon paine and forfaiteur of all youre landes and goodes and upon the feith and ligeaunce yat ye owe unto us. Yeven tc at Westm the x day of August the yere tc xxxj

Sir Rauf Percy                          Sir Henri Fenwyk
Ric Percy                                   Sir William Martindale
Sir John Penyngton              John Swynbourne squire
Rolande Kyrkeby
Henri Belingham                           squiers
William Lee

Kinsmen of the Nevills received letters as well, thanking them for their unbiased help. Despite this, they were soon replaced by a commissioner sent by the king, sir William Lucy, who could not be accused of favouring the Nevill cause over that of the Percies. Westmoreland was Salisbury’s nephew and the bishop of Durham was his brother, Robert.

By this time the skirmish at Heworth was a couple of months in the past but not forgotten, one suspects, by John Nevill…

From the king to the earl of Westmoreland and the bishop of Durham, 8 October 1453

By the King

Right trusty and welbeloved cosin. We have understand by credible reporte made unto us the greet labours paines and diligences that ye have nowe of late tyme doon and doo daily for the letting and appesing of such troubles and unlwawful gaderings of people as not long ago have be and yit as it is saide contynue in the contree ther ye dwelle and ther a boute and that ye in no wise though ye be nygh of blode and allie to the pties making such assembles have favoured or lened in such unfyttyg demenyng to that one ptie or to that other butt have be redy and ben to helpe strength and assite such lords spuel and tempel [spiritual and temporal] ther as ben fully disposed and sette indifferently to the coservacon of our pees easing and ceesing of the saide gaderings and good and restful governance of our saide contree and subgitts of which your good disposicon and sadde demenyng we be right wel content and thanke you spially willyng exhorting and also praying you hertely so to contynue wherin ye shal do thing ful acceptable unto God to our saide contree and subgittes and behoveful and pfitable and right plesant to us and thankeful and cause us to be the more desirous to do thing that may be to yo pleasur and behove. Yeven under our prive seel at Westm the viij day of Octobr.

To therle of Westmerl

Itm semble to the revent fader in  God our right trusty and welbeloved cosin the Bisship of Duresme.

Though the archbishop of York at the time, William Bothe, was not related by blood to the Nevills (so far as I know) he did seem to be a little partisan, accompanying Salisbury, his sons and retainers to the averted-in-the-nick-of-time almost showdown outside Topcliffe in October 1453.

From the king to the archbishop of York, 8 October 1453.

By the King

Moost revernt fader in God our right trusty and welbeloved. We have understande by credible reporte made unto us that ye according to the degree and astate that ye stande in have goodly and godly doo your parte and daily do to thappesing and ceesing of suche troubles and unlawful gaderings of people as not long agoo have be and yit as it is saide continue in the contrees that ye dwelle in deserving therin as we can right grete and spial thanke willyng exhortyng and prayng you hertely that ye wol so contynue and that ye wol not departe frome that contree unto the tyme the saide trouble and unlawfuyl assemblees be fully appesed and extint as our pfite trust is on you understandyng for certaine that herin y shal do thyng ful acceptable to God to our saide contree and subgittes behoveful and pfitable and right plesant to us and thankeful and cause us to be the more desirous to do thing that may be to your pleasir and behove. Yeven under our prive seel at Westm the viij day of Octobre.

To tharchebisshop of Yorke

Threats of forfeiture against the sons having failed, the threat was turned on the fathers…

From the king to the earls of Salisbury and Northumberland, 8 October 1453.

By the Kyng

Cousin. Howe it be that at al tymes before this ye have be holde a sadde a sober and a wel reuled man as it sitteth you in al wyse so to be and somoche the more for the degree and astate that ye stande inne the which is ordained you not to abuse it but to use to the worship of God and to the avice and supportacon of us in keping of our pees and of our lawes to the which ye owe to do so moche the grett diligence that ye be oon of the commssioners of the pees in the countrees that ye dwelle inne and also stande charged oon of the lords of our Counsail in receiving of the which charge y were sworne that yf ye sholde from that tyme forth hiere of any debate betwixt lord and lord by stiring of the which the good reste and pees of this oure lande might in any wyse be letted or troubled whom soever of thaime it touched ye yf it touched you sholde be reuled by the lords of oure said Counsil and in no wyse take upon you the reule therof at yor own hande the which notwithstanding and also that in oure Parlement which is yit continued ye and all othr lords wer warned that yf any of you felt him grieved ayenste other shold putte in his grief in writing and besides this notwithstanding the straite charge and comaundement yeven unto you nowe late by oure lres of prive seal by the which ye sholde have putte you in yor devoir by all meenes possible to the cessing and putting down of thassemblees and gadering remembred in the same oure lres ye w^toute any request or complaint made to us of any grief do unto you have sith that tyme as it is saide take upon you or be disposed to take upon you contrarye to oure saide comaundement and also to oure pees and lawes to make the grettest assemblee of our liegemen and therto have appointed tyme and place that ever was made w^tin this oure lande at any tyme that man can thinke the whiche yf it so be do or heraft happe to be doo by you youre ordenaunce or appointement yf any of oure liegemen be perished by the meane therof we wol that ye holde for undoubted that aswel ye as thoo that have be counsailling and helping you therin shal so be so chastised that bothe ye and thay and all othr oure subgitts shal have matier and cause to eschewe to attempte any thing like heraft.  And as toward you yf ye so have attempted ayenste oure estate and yours desving therby to be straunged from thoccupacon of the said astate that ye stand we shal in no wyse spare you in this case but rather more grievously punyssh you than we wolde do the leste persone of oure lande the which neverthelesse as oure Lord knoweth we wold be right lothe to do. Yeven tc at Westm the viij day of October.

To oure cousin therle of Salisbury

Itm semble to our cousin therle of Northumbr

The next letter is the one sent to Egremont. John Nevill hadn’t been ‘putte … to the worshippe and astate of Baron”, and the beginning of the letter to him – as the addendum suggests – was different.

Letter from the King to lord Egremont and sir John Nevill, son of the earl of Salisbury, 8 October 1453

Howe it be that not long agoo we putte you to the worshippe and astate of Baron not for any greet service that ye hadde do to us before that tyme but for the trust and trowing that we hadde of the good service that ye sholde do us in tyme comyng in esiall in keping of the rest and pees of oure lande and in letting of alle that sholde mowe be to the contrarye neverthelesse we be credibly enfourmed that ye ne use not the saide astate to the saide entente but to the contrarie deservyng therby to be straunged therfroo in espial in that that notw^tstanding oure lres late addressed unto you bering date at Westm the xxvij day of Juyll last passed by the which we yave you in the straitest wyse in comaundement upon the faith and ligeance that ye owe unto us to putte downe and departe alle such assemblees and gaderings of people as at that tyme ye hadde made and arraised ayenst oure pees in comocon and trouble of our subgitts of the contree that ye dwell in and to kepe our peax like as it was conteigned in the same oure lres ye ne have in any wyse obeyed nor accomplysshed oure saide comaundement but as it appreth wel in contempt therof have multiplied and daily do gaderynggs of people of oure subgitts redy to goo to the feld as by credible reporte we have understand ye dispose you fully to doo as it were in lande of werre unto full greet hurt unease and trouble of our said contree and subgitts and of lyklyhode to destruccon and undoing therof that God forbade if it were not sette apart. Wherfore we wol and in the moost straitest wyse charge you as before that having consideracon to the nonn observance of the contynue of oure saide lres the contempt that ye be ronne in ayenst us in that behalf and the charge that may be leyde upon you therefore in tyme comyng ye in restful and peisible wyse departe such people as ye have assembled and surseesse of suche novelries as you have begonne keping oure pees and makyng it to be kept by alle yours and other as ferre as in you is and that ye faille not so to doo upon paine and forfaiteur of all that ye may forfaite unto us and upont the faith and ligeance that ye owe unto us. Yeven tc at Westm the viij day of Octobr the yere tc xxxij

To the Lord Egremond

Itm to John Nevyll knyght son to Therle of Salisbury begynnyng at notwithstanding tc

That is the end of the correspondence on the subject. Shortly after this, Henry VI suffered from his first bout of incapacitating illness and Richard, duke of York, became Protector and Defender of England and sorted it all out… at least until May 1455 and the first battle of St Albans.

The Debeatification of John Nevill

I like John Nevill. He was a complex and interesting man, but a man of his times. The 15th century was a very different place to the 21st. A man could love his wife and children, be well read and cultured on the one hand and utterly ruthless when it came to matters of war and politics on the other. John Nevill was no different. We’re very fond these days of categorising people and putting them in boxes. Radio stations play one kind of music; demographics tell advertisers what gender and age group to pitch ads to on tv; books are written in an attempt to entrench a view of biologically based gender differences. Teenagers are goths or emos or straight edge or tagged with any one of a dozen other labels. We do the same with historical ‘characters’ as well. And that’s how we treat them – as characters. We use them to prove a point, and fiction about the Wars of the Roses abounds with them.

Here’s a little exercise. See how many people you can identify according to their archetype.

the Romantic Hero

the Greedy Queen

the Innocent

the Pawn

the Alcoholic Wifebeater

the Wicked Uncle

the Doomed Princess

the One With Torn Loyalties

the Good Who Die Young

the Foul Traitor

the Tragic Jolly Uncle

the Misunderstood Saint

the Overreacher Who Gets His Comeuppance

See how easy it is?

John Nevill is portrayed almost universally as the Tragic Hero whose Loyalties Are Torn and who dies by his brother’s side when he should – as everyone knows – have been fighting alongside his king. This is, I think, based on one line from Warkworth’s Chronicle, which I’ve discussed previously. Everything about his life, from childhood to his death at the age of 39, is explained and justified through this single line. I’m not going to revisit it except to say that John Nevill wasn’t secretly wearing the livery of Edward IV at the battle of Barnet. These chronicles, and other primary sources, are hugely important, but (as today) not everything that was written at the time can or should be taken as gospel. But what to me is worse than relying on a single sentence in a single source is that the view of John that emanates from it is contradicted by other sources, and even within Warkworth itself. This (mythical) moment in John’s life pushes back in time and gives him a saintly glow. It also serves to differentiate him from his older and, in the popular mind, much less noble brother, Warwick.

There’s a number of myths about John that seem directly connected to the Warkworth myth. I’d like to try and make sense of some of them.

1. John had no intention of suriving the battle of Barnet.

In his Warwick the Kingmaker, Kendall says this: “… his brother John, obeying the call of kinship, would fight at his side, but John’s heart was in the other camp and he had the look of a man who has lost the will to live.”

This is a twist on the torn loyalties paradigm. If it brought about his brother’s defeat and Edward’s triumph, John would give his life. Rather than see his king defeated and his brother’s Lancastrian allies triumphant, John would give his life. As romantic hero gestures go, you can’t get much more romantic – or heroic – than this.

In many respects, Kendall reads like fiction. I’ve found nothing in any of the primary sources that claims to describe the look on John’s face or what was in his heart before the battle. Kendall can’t possibly know. This is pure unfounded speculation based on the author’s personal view of John Nevill. While this might be acceptable in fiction, in non-fiction it isn’t, at least not without the author intervening and stating openly that they are speculating, and giving reasons for that.

John was not yet 40 (I haven’t found a birthdate for him, but he was probably born in 1432). He had a wife who he seems to have been at least fond of and seven living children. Had he and Warwick prevailed at Barnet, he may have had hopes of once again holding the Percy Northumberland title and lands. His capture, along with his brother Thomas, after the battle of Blore Heath, and his capture after the loss at second St Albans were the closest things to defeat John had ever faced. The major factor in the outcome of Barnet (or at least a major factor) was the confused and confusing return to the field of the earl of Oxford’s men. It was this that directly led to the breaking of John’s line and his death. For him to have anticipated, or engineered this, is a preposterous notion. John probably went into this battle as he had every battle of his life – knowing that there were no guarantees that he’d survive. Had he survived, given the description of his actions in the parliamentary roll of 1472 as “grete and horible treasons”, Edward IV wouldn’t have spared him. John had a lot to fight for and a lot to live for.

2. Edward IV shortchanged John in the earl-for-marquess deal.

This is predicated largely on the passage quoted below in myth #3. John’s earldom was taken from him and he was given a ‘pie’s nest’ to maintain his new title of marquis. John, in fact, got a reasonable deal: a new and higher title; the proceeds of two royal mines; various Courtenay estates in the west of England; a dukedom for his son, George and, also for George, a connection to the royal family by way of betrothal to Edward’s oldest daughter (and heir presumptive) Elizabeth. John was hardly reduced to poverty.

3. His decision to join his brothers, Warwick and the Archbishop of York, in rebellion was spur of the moment and resulted from the loss of his earldom.

Here’s the relevant part from Warkworth:

The Lorde Markes Montagu hade gaderyd vi M{1} men, by Kynge Edwardes commysyone and commaundment, to the entente to have recistede the seid Duke of Clarence and the Erle of Warwyke. Never the latter, the seide Markes Montagu hatyd the Kynge, and purposede to have taken hym; and whenne he was withein a myle of Kynge Edwarde, he declarede to the peple that was there gaderede with hym, how Kyng Edwarde hade fyrst yevyne to hym the erledome of Northumberlonde, and how he toke it from hym and gaff it to Herry Percy, whos fadere was slayne at Yorke felde [first battle of St Albans]; and how of late tyme hade made hym Markes of Montagu, and yaff hym a pyes neste to mayntene his astate withe; where for he yaff knoleage to his peple that he wulde holde withe the Erle of Warwyke, his brothere, and take Kynge Edwarde if he myght, and alle tho that would holde with hym.

I think the loss of the earldom hurt him a great deal. It was absolute proof of his triumph over those who had been his enemies since young adulthood, his Percy cousins. He had their title and their lands. Losing it must have been a bitter blow, but it was something that, for some months, he seemed to accept. Warwick was no doubt working on him from the moment John dispersed the rebels led by ‘Robin of Redesdale’ (possibly William Conyers). This reported speech smells of pretext, and it’s timing is perfect. Apart from ‘one of the oste’ (see myth #4), John’s men made the switch with him en masse, and Edward was forced to flee.

John had probably made the decision well before this time and, when summoned by his king to join him, he took his chance and made the switch.

What I find interesting here is that people who accept the later statement in Warkworth, that John was wearing the livery of Edward IV under his own at Barnet, don’t seem to stop and question the contradiction. Here, it is stated that John hated the king. That’s quite a strong word to use. Unless we want to accept the idea that John was wishy-washy – one day hating the king and swearing himself and his men to his brother, the next secretly pledging himself to the king and possibly planning to betray Warwick – we have to choose one of these statements over the other. As I suggested in an earlier post, not only do other primary sources not support the latter, the mention of John in the 1472 parliamentary rolls decidedly contradicts it.

4. John secretly sent word to Edward telling him of his defection and giving him time to escape.

Immediately following the passage above:

But anone one of the oste went oute from the fellawschippe and tolde Kynge Edwarde alle manere of thyng, and bade hym avoyde, for he was nogt stronge enoghe to gyffe batayle to Markes Montagu…

Someone slipped away and warned the king. There’s no suggestion that this was done with John’s knowledge or connivance. If John was playing a deep double game, he kept his face very straight indeed and was given poor reward in death. The propaganda value to Edward of John’s potential defection, at Barnet or elsewhere, would have made it too valuable to ignore. The Arrival would have made much of it, and the king himself would have surely exonerated and praised such a loyal supporter in parliament. John gave men of Warwick’s affinity no such warning before he made his switch and it seems out of character that he would have done so after. Edward’s flight is strong evidence that he had no inkling that John might still be on his side. “My lord Montagu wants you to know that he’s not joining you, and wants to give you time to escape” might have led Edward to seek safe haven within England. There’s no doubt in my mind that, had the two sides met in battle, John would have given no quarter, and Edward was aware of that. With two Nevill armies after him, he had no option but to get as far away as he could. If John had warned Edward, the king might have taken the chance that John would find some way of not engaging or, at the very least, holding his men back. The idea that the warning came from John makes no sense.

5. John deliberately made no move to intercept Edward IV when he landed at Ravenspur in 1471.

Edward IV has been described at times as having fortune on his side. His return to England was certainly one of these times. His restoration of Henry Percy to his earldom paid off. While Northumberland was in no position to rally his men to Edward’s side – they weren’t about to fight for the man at whose hands they and their families had suffered great loss – his very presence made it impossible for John to move against Edward. Here John was reaping the results of the feud he’d so enthusiastically fuelled for years. While Northumberland’s men weren’t going to fight for the king, neither were they going to aid a Nevill in opposing him. As Pollard says: “It is hardly surprising that the leaders of local society bore [John Nevill] no love. They had not done so since 1453.” (North Eastern England during the Wars of the Roses, p313) Edward was free to move about the north of England at will.

6. John married Isobel Ingoldisthorpe for love.

This is pure romantic nonsense, already dealt with in some depth here.

6. The conflict between John and Henry duke of Somerset was love rivalry.

Someone in John’s family, or at the very least on the side of John’s family, killed this duke of Somerset’s father at the first battle of St Albans. Attempts were made to bring peace between the two sides at the Love Day of 1458. Clearly, at least with the junior members of various families, this failed. John has already been shown to be capable of bearing a grudge. Or maybe he just liked the excitement of feuding. The young Somerset had every right to be angry at his father’s death, and John does seem to have been the most hotheaded member of his family. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that this conflict manifested itself in occasional violence.

As I said at the very start of this post, I like John Nevill. But I like this John Nevill, not the unrealistic, un-fifteenth century quasi-saint that (sadly) inhabits a lot of historical fiction. There are too many contradictions in that one; too many sleight of hand tricks are needed to keep the fantasy alive. For a while after his brother Warwick began to rebel in company with the Duke of Clarence, John stayed loyal to his king. Once he made the switch, however, he stuck with it. Instead of agonising over his torn loyalties leading up to and during the battle of Barnet, I think it’s more likely that the pain was felt (and resolved) earlier than this – during the time he was standing against his brothers. I sometimes feel there’s a bit more to it than this, though. It’s all tied up with Warwick and people’s perceptions of him and what he deserved. Warwick, they seem to be saying, deserved to die. Alone. Deserted even by his brother. John’s incipient sainthood is championed in order to throw Warwick further into the shadow as the major villain of the piece and the Overreacher Who Gets His Comeuppance.

A curious thing… the final moments of John Nevill

This was going to be a more general post about John Nevill, until Susan Higginbotham reminded me of a sentence in Warkworth’s Chronicle that seems to have been oddly (and quite definitively) interpreted in one particular way, which has spread through the pages of historical fiction like a meme (or a virus?). Thinking about this last night got me to thinking about what other interpretations could be made of it, how it fit in with what else we know (or at least, what else is in the sources), and how the current widespread interpretation is used to reinforce the seemingly entrenched view of the three surviving Nevill brothers as literary archetypes. Which they weren’t – they were Actual People Who Actually Lived.

Most of us who write about the Wars of the Roses have a bias. Even serious historians, who can claim to be more neutral than most, probably aren’t entirely neutral. So, given that there are recognised to be two sides – York and Lancaster – and as the Nevills worked for both, it’s not difficult to see how they often end up caught in a cleft stick, so to speak. Yorkists don’t like them because they changed sides, Lancastrians don’t like them because they inflicted great harm on their cause – before changing sides. When I say “them”, I really should correct myself – they don’t like Warwick or the archbishop of York. Everyone just loves John! It’s almost as if the countess of Salisbury had two sons only: Thomas, the tragic young warrior who died at Wakefield, and a fully rounded, three dimensional son who was, tragically, at a very young age hit with some kind of alien raygun and split into three: Richard, who was All Things Bad; John, who was All Things Good; and poor George who kind of got the leftover weaselly bits*. No-one’s shocked when Richard changes sides, whatever George does is slotted nicely into his ‘self-seeking’ ‘cowardly’ persona, but great efforts must be made to explain John’s actions. Torn Between Loyalties is a favourite, Montagu wearing the ‘colours of York’ under his armour a meme that just refuses to die, and that brings us very nicely back to Warkworth.

And on Ester day in the mornynge, the xiij day of Apryl, ryght erly, eche of them came uppone the othere; and ther was suche a grete myste, that nether of them myght see othere perfitely; ther thei faught from iiij of the clokke in the mornynge unto x of the clokke the fore-none. And dyverse tymes the Erle of Warwyke party hade the victory, and supposede that they hade wonne the felde. But it happened so, that the Erle of Oxenfordes men hade uppon them ther lordes lyvery, bothe before and behynde, which was a sterre with stremys, wiche [was] myche lyke the Kynge Edwardes lyvery, the sunne with stremys; and the myste was so thycke, that a manne myghte not porfytely juge one thynge from anothere; so the Erle of Warwikes menne shott and faught ayens the Erle of Oxenfordes and his menne cryed “treasoune! treasoune!” and fledde awaye from the felde withe viij c menne. The Lorde Markes Montagu was agreyde and apoyntede with Kynge Edwarde, and put uppone hym Kinge Edwardes lyvery; and a manne of the Erles of Warwyke sawe that, and felle upponne hyme, and kyllede him.  And whenne the Erle of Warwyke saw his brother dede, and the Erle of Oxenford fledde, he lepte upon horse-backe, and flede to a wode by the felde of Barnett…

And it goes on to then describe the manner and means of the death of the earl of Warwick. (italics mine)

Just to get a fuller picture of who was writing what at (or around) the time: Croyland doesn’t mention any of this in his very brief description of the battle.

In the morning a dreadful engagement took place, in which there fell various nobles of either party. Of the side of those who were of King Henry’s party, there fell those two most famous nobles, the brothers, Richard earl of Warwick, and John, marquis of Montagu.

The Arrivall has this to say:

In this battayle was slayne the Erle of Warwyke, somewhat fleinge … There was also slayne the Marques Montagwe, in playne battayle…

So, just assuming for a moment that the author of Warkworth’s Chronicle had some snippet of information that the other two lacked, that being: At some point during the battle, where he was seen by only one man, John Nevill replaced his own livery with that of the king he was fighting against. If he had put it on under his armour, that would necessitate removing his armour to expose it to the eyes of his brother’s man. Who promptly killed him. As a strategy – either for (as I discuss below) an attempted escape or a change of sides, it failed miserably. Not, one would have thought, quite in keeping with the much vaunted (and likely true) military genius of John Nevill. That this change of clothes somehow happened in the thick of battle is quite clear – according to Warkworth, Warwick saw his brother fall (or at least his colours). I know it was misty, and maybe he ducked behind a hedge while people’s attention was directed elsewhere, but… Of course, he might have withdrawn temporarily, told his officers what was up, changed clothes and headed back to the fight.

So, maybe he was wearing Edward’s livery under his own, and just whipped the top layer off at the (as it happens) most inopportune moment. There are a number of things wrong with this suggestion. Firstly, if the distrust between the brothers was so great that Warwick had salted his men in Montagu’s army, this would have been noticed long before the reveal moment. Secondly, assuming that Montagu had agreed and appointed with Edward to change sides, it seems awfully odd (and woefully unprepared) to be doing this single handed. And thirdly, given the possibility that a large enough number of his men were going to follow him to make it work, and given that they too would have been disguised – ready to whip off their top layer and slay their oh so temporary allies – none of them did. And there’s no mention of any similarly dressed corpses. One way of surviving this battle might have been for these double-dressed men to discard the top layer as they ran for their lives in the rout. It had been done before**… There’s no mention of abandoned livery at Barnet.

But perhaps this wasn’t about torn loyalties at all. Maybe this was about self-seeking, weaselly, looking out for himself… Oh, sorry, that’s George! But to give it some serious consideration, just for a moment – Warkworth reports this change of clothes happening at the moment when it should be clear to Montagu, experienced soldier that he is, that all is not well. He has an escape plan, attempts to put it into action and is thwarted at the last moment by that pesky spy his brother has slipped into his army. This is quite definitely not the John that so many people have come to know and love through the pages of historical fiction. Whatever that John Nevill may do, it doesn’t include attempting to disguise himself in order to save his own arse at the expense of others. If Warkworth is correct, it must be considered at least a possibility.

But it’s what happens after Barnet that calls Warkworth into question for me. John is not hailed as a great hero by the king he supposedly agreed and appointed with, whose livery he was wearing when he died. His body is taken to London and exposed for view, along with that of Warwick. He is given a more than honourable funeral and his widow is left in peace (unlike Warwick’s), but this says more to me about Edward than about John. Montagu didn’t have enough property worth stealing and maybe the king was simply more charmed by Isobel than by Anne. The king needed to reward his brothers, Gloucester more than Clarence, and impoverishing Isobel and disinheriting her children would have reaped but a small reward. John’s widow was given no additional honours, property or other reward (except a half decent second husband), which would surely accrue to the widow of a Great Hero who Stayed Loyal to His King and Died Wearing His Colours.

The 1472 Parliamentary Roll doesn’t mention any incipient heroism on John’s part. In fact, it quite clearly states the opposite:

 The kyng oure sovereigne lord, consideryng the grete and horible treasons and < other offenses > doon to his highnes by John Nevile, late Marquys Mountague, entended by the auctorite of this present parlement to have atteynted and disabled the said late marquys and his heires for ever, accordyng to his demerites, which to doo the same, oure sovereigne lord, at the humble request and prayer, aswell of his right dere brother Richard, duc of Gloucestr’, and other lordes of his blode, as of other of his lordes, spareth and will no ferther in that behalf procede…

If John had been about to turn, there’s no earthly reason for Edward to have kept it a secret.

What seems odder still to me is that John is lionised and sentimentalised for behaviour (disloyalty to his brother Warwick) that earns the archbishop of York eternal scorn and opprobrium. It seems that the lesson is clear: If John does it, it’s Heroic, if George does it, it’s Weaselly.

There’s a good deal more to John Nevill than many books of historical fiction would have us believe. He wasn’t a Sensitive New Age Guy somehow transported back to the middle ages. He wasn’t the lighter half of Warwick’s soul. He chose his moment to declare for his brother very carefully. Warwick knew what was going on in England amongst his followers while he was in exile in France. He kept up correspondence with them and I don’t doubt for a moment that one of them was John. The prevailing view seems to be that he woke up one morning, months after accepting the marquis for earl deal, and all that came with it, and suddenly had a change of heart. “This just isn’t good enough! I think I’ll have a chat with my men and change sides.” His defection, I submit, was well in train long before this. And once his decision was made, he stuck to it and he died for it. To believe otherwise is to believe that John Nevill was no better than his brother George who changed his loyalty almost on whim, or when the going got tough, leaving Warwick alone and hung out to dry.

* Even Hicks buys into this (and, until I ferret out the page reference and update, I’m paraphrasing) when he says that John represented all that was noble in Warwick and George all that was not.

** I apologise for linking to a wikipedia entry, especially before checking it, but it was there, so…

Review: The Battle of Wakefield Revisited – Helen Cox

This was one of the most eagerly awaited books in my collection, as real, careful, scholarly work on the battle of Wakefield is very thin on the ground. For a battle with such profound consequences, there is very little in primary sources and most of the secondary sources can’t be taken at face value. Cox had done a good job sifting through all. Her greatest achievement in this book is addressing the various myths surrounding the battle. Her own conclusions about the battle cover a disappointing sixteen pages and, unfortunately, left me unconvinced. Not, I hasten to add, the substance of it, but rather some of the speculative detail. (I want to stress that Cox herself sets out her conclusion in terms of “conjecture, theory and speculation” (p74).)

It’s a slim volume, almost more a long journal paper than a book, but it packs quite a wallop for its size. The first two chapters are given over to a brief account of the background to the Wars and, more specifically, the lead up to Wakefield. It left me a little breathless, but certainly did its job! As the likely readers of this book would fall into two camps – WoR tragics like me and battle tragics – there was certainly no need to go into excruciating detail here. The first group of readers should be assumed to have at least a working knowledge and the second group might be assumed to want to get straight into the meat of it – the battle itself. Either way, the introductory chapters are quite sufficient in this regard.

Chapter 3 was, for me, by far the most interesting, useful and valuable. Cox takes the myths surrounding the battle – the various purported reasons for York’s catastrophic defeat – and knocks them down one at a time. She takes as her starting point the idea that York was no fool militarily and builds from there, making extensive use of both primary and secondary sources, as well as taking into account the topography of the battlefield and the (scant) archaeological record. My own preferred hypothesis was demolished along with the rest! This is something I have surprisingly few regrets about.

One mystery snippet – the so-called battle of Worksop – was very nicely cleared up in this chapter as well. When I first heard mention of it, I was puzzled, thinking that something so important as an actual battle slipping through my radar unnoticed was a sad indictment on me and my powers of perception. Detail about this event is so limited that that in itself is a clue Cox uses to put it into perspective. All told, chapter 3, Dispelling the myths, does exactly that, clearly and concisely.

Briefly, Cox credits the Lancastrian victory to the treachery of lord John Nevill (Salisbury’s nephew). This isn’t a startling new theory and, of those considered in the chapter on myths, is by far the most convincing. What I had questions about, as I read, was more precisely how this was carried out. With bad blood between lord John (one of the Wrong Nevills) and his uncle, it seems to me that, had Nevill turned up at Sandal days before the battle pledging his support (through York) to Henry VI (it shouldn’t be forgotten that, since the Act of Accord, rightly or wrongly, Margaret of Anjou and her armies were now the rebels and York was the upholder of the king), it would be Salisbury who needed convincing rather than York.

Another important consideration in this is that Cox quite clearly states that John Nevill, lord Montagu, was present at the battle and (needless to say) survived. Few others do, and I think there’s very good reason for that. Had such a high profile Yorkist fought and survived, we’d know a great deal more about Wakefield than we do. While I don’t quibble at all with the core of Cox’s conclusion – it’s by far the most likely – I do have questions about some of the detail. Treachery the depth of lord Nevill’s (rather than an in the field change of sides, akin to Grey of Ruthyn’s at Northampton, or even Stanley’s at Bosworth) would not have gone unremarked by Montagu, had he been there. While (most likely) Grey and (definitely) Stanley  communicated their intentions ahead of time, the conspiracy espoused by Cox is, I think, rather unnecessarily complicated. The closer to the actual battle Nevill appeared, the less time Salisbury would have had to question or challenge his presence. In fact, the longer Nevill was around, the more likely tension or conflict would develop between him and Salisbury. The bitterness between the two branches of the family cannot easily be overstated. Cox quite rightly states that if he was issued a commission of array from Sandal, it would have left him with no time to raise troops, and therefore he already had his men with him. York would also have been able to work this out. I think it’s more likely that Lord Nevill showed up some time very close to 30 December, when York was no doubt aware that he was outnumbered. Salisbury may have expressed doubts, but there wasn’t sufficient time to inspect the teeth of this particular gift horse and whatever pledges he might have made, to Henry VI or otherwise, Nevill was welcomed, perhaps over Salisbury’s doubts and protestations.

The remainder of the book deals with the aftermath of the battle, the fates of various surviving participants and a last word about history’s view of various dukes of York.

Lastly (and I don’t want to be overly critical of this book) there’s what might be considered a fairly minor point but one which, given my focus on the Nevills, is a little perplexing. In all the texts in which they’re mentioned (and they’re by no means mentioned in all of them) the William Bonvilles (father and son – who both lost their lives in the battle) are listed with the Yorkists. Cox has them fighting for the Lancastrians. For purely personal reasons, I really do need to pin this down!

All in all, this is a very useful book and an important contribution to our understanding of a battle about which so little is known. The myth demolition chapter alone is worth the price of admission! Cox’s exploration is holistic and thorough. While I’ve been deeply disappointed in the past with eagerly awaited books, I wasn’t disappointed with this one, though I hoped for a little more about the battle itself. Given the scant information available, I was probably asking for too much! A Wars of the Roses collection without this book is incomplete.

Battle of Blore Heath and the attainting of the countess of Salisbury

23 September 1459 – Battle of Blore Heath

Here’s my notes for this battle:

• Salisbury on his way to Ludlow;

• Lancaster led by Audley and Dudley

• Salisbury chose a position at Blore Hill

• Lancster had to cross stream to attack

• Salisbury pursued them

• Dead – Audley;

• Taken – Dudley

– Thomas Nevill, John Nevill (& Harrington ?) possibly while seeking shelter/help for injuries

• Augustinian friar covers Salisbury’s withdrawal by firing cannon all night; when found next day, claims he did it to keep his spirits up.

And THAT’s why I’m a day late and getting later blogging this battle! Sometimes I think I should fire myself and hire a research assistant!

So, what I thought I’d do, rather than reach for my books and give you something more comprehensive and sensible about the battle itself, is talk about the involvement of Alice Montacute, countess of Salisbury.

I’ve mentioned before that she was attainted at the so-called Parliament of Devils, along with York, Salisbury, Warwick, Thomas and John Nevill, the earls of March and Rutland and a whole bunch of other people. The other wives were explicitly exempted from this, their personal wealth untouched and their safety not in question. They remained in England (or in the countess of Warwick’s case, Calais) able to get on with their lives, so far as anyone can whose husband and sons have been forced to flee the country or have been captured and imprisoned. Alice had to get herself gone fast.

Here’s the relevant section from the parliamentary rolls dealing with Alice.

And forasmoch as Aleyse the wyf of the seid Richard erle of Salesbury, the first day of August, the yere of youre moost noble reigne xxxvij at Middleham in youre shire of York… falsely and traiterously ymagyned and compassed the deth and fynall destruccion of you, soverayne lord; and in accomplisshment and executyng therof, the seid Aleise, at Middleham aforeseid the seid first day of August… traterously labored, abetted, procured, stered and provoked the seid duc of York, and the seid erles of Warrewyk and Salesbury, to doo the seid tresons, rebellions, gaderynges, ridynges and reryng of werre ayenst youre moost roiall persone, at the seid toune of Blore and Ludeford: to ordeyne and establissh, by the seid auctorite, that the same Aliese… for the same be reputed, taken, demed, adjugged and atteinted of high treson.

What she actually did is almost impossible to glean from this, though it’s likely that she was raising troops in the north of England. One fairly recent fictional portrayal of her has her swooning at news that her husband is in danger and falling into a state of catatonia at the news of his death. (And, incidentally, not being attainted at the Parliament of Devils.) This does the real countess of Salisbury a huge disservice.

The Duke of York went to Ireland with his son, Edmund earl of Rutland. Salisbury went to Calais with Warwick and the earl of March. Ireland is where Alice ended up, fetched back to Calais and reunion with her husband the following year by her son, Warwick. Why she went to Ireland and not Calais is a question I’ve been trying to unravel.

Though it’s not mentioned in reports of the battle, she may have been with her husband and sons as they travelled to Ludlow, Salisbury being reluctant to leave her behind in Yorkshire when things were so unsettled. While York had an easier journey ahead of him, and as his welcome in Ireland was almost guaranteed, Salisbury, March and Warwick had a much more difficult time getting to Calais. If Alice was at Ludlow, her taking the safer option makes a great deal of sense. If she travelled later, on her own, then Ireland would seem an odd choice. On the balance of probability then, I’m putting Alice at Ludlow in 1459 and in the vicinity of Blore Heath during the battle.

Though Salisbury’s victory would have heartened them, the disappearance of their two sons would have been cause for worry. How and when the Salisburys heard that Thomas and John had been captured and were on their way to imprisonment in Chester Castle is also unclear, but the news may have been waiting for them at Ludlow, though their sons’ fate would still have been very unclear at that point. However, it is possible that they heard a number of confused and confusing reports after the battle, including the possibility that one or both of their sons had been killed.

This must have been a particularly difficult time for Alice. She left the country in the company of the duke of York and the earl of Rutland, not knowing where her husband and Warwick were going to end up, not knowing what was going to happen to Thomas and John, an attainder for treason hanging over all their heads, including hers. She left behind in England her son George and all of her daughters and grandchildren. Though she no doubt had great faith in the men in her life, and believed in their cause, she couldn’t have been sure she’d see them again or, indeed, return to England.

When Warwick came to Ireland the following year for talks with the duke of York, and to fetch his mother back to Calais, I imagine a low key but emotional reunion, both with her son and later her husband.

Alice Montacute was, I think, an amazing woman of enormous courage and heart. She grew up ten children who all had a strong presence in the world and an impact either on a national level or on their own families. She very much deserves to be recognised, not as a proto-feminist figure, but as a woman who dealt with a greater than usual burden of both political and personal drama by wiping her hands on her skirts and getting on with it.

Funerals at Bisham Priory

“When Edward moved the remains of his father and brother from Pontefract and reburied them in a splendid ceremony at Fotheringhay Castle in 1463, Warwick bore his father and brother to Bisham Abbey two weeks later in an even more splendid ceremony.” (It gets worse.)

I’ve developed a strong feeling that this particular blogger and writer really really doesn’t like Warwick, but she’s not alone in her view that a driving philosophy in his life was to outdo his king and cousin, Edward IV. Affection for his father, mother and brother – all buried at Bisham that day – isn’t even considered to be a possible motive.

This is the same person who had Warwick ‘bristle’ to his brother John (while ‘squaring his shoulders’): “Who are you to question my judgment, I, the hero of England?”, bellowing “I am the kingmaker!” before destroying his London home, and, incidentally, has him fleeing to Calais after the defeat at St Albans. A few pages earlier, in reference to these letters: “I heard him [Warwick] refer to the deaths of his father and brother as “the murder of my kin.” Shocked I halted in my steps. The earl and Thomas – how could they be mere ‘kin’? They were his father, his brother! But this I knew I would never forget.”

In a few scant paragraphs immediately following: “But then he’d [Edward IV] turn his gaze thoughtfully on Warwick, who was richer than any king, and I felt that cold shiver run down my spine again,” this author deals with the funeral at Bisham of the countess and earl of Salisbury and their son, Thomas. Salisbury had stated a desire to be buried here with previous earls of Salisbury (not, incidentally with his “Neville ancestors”). The king’s absence is noted (“Again I felt that cold shiver of warning that told me something was amiss”), and his brother George’s presence. The Suffolks were there, as were lord and lady Hastings, both with close ties to the king through either blood or deep friendship – William Hastings may well have wished to attend his father-in-law’s funeral, at the very least for his wife’s sake, but would hardly have defied the king to do so. Edward’s absence might have been deliberate, but he was well represented (as he was at another Nevill celebration, the enthronement of the archbishop of York.) Reading backwards from Barnet (all those ‘cold shivers’) skews the story and misrepresents the characters and their motivations.

It may have been a funeral designed to advertise Warwick’s wealth, but hardly at the expense of his parents’ and brother’s honour and memory. The earl and countess of Salisbury were centre stage that day. The countess of Warwick wasn’t in attendance and neither was Thomas’s widow, the newly remarried Maud Stanhope. Also missing were the earl of Arundel, lord Stanley and Salisbury’s surviving sisters. Perhaps there wasn’t sufficient notice for them to attend, which suggests that the funeral was fairly hastily organised. If a conspicuous show of wealth, power and influence was the primary aim, more time and attention would have surely been spent on it (such as making sure as many dukes, duchesses, earls and countesses as possible were in attendance).

Like the archbishop’s feast, the funeral was undoubtedly first and foremost an occasion to honour family members who had achieved much in their lives; Warwick had wealth to lavish on both and he certainly did that. To do otherwise would have, no doubt, prompted charges of meanness and miserliness from the same writers who now charge him with doing all he could to outshine his cousin and king.

Just in case I’m accused of picking on people, here’s another random sampling from the blogsphere:

“In 1463 Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick (a.k.a. Warwick the Kingmaker) staged a showpiece service here for the reburial of his father and his brother, killed at Pontefract. It was designed, perhaps, as a challenge to Edward IV, who had recently held a memorial service for his father and brother, killed at Rutland.”

It’s going to take a lot of work to change the perception that <Warwick + money + funeral != love for family> is a false equation. (I’m putting aside the inaccuracies because I have a big heart.)

The second funeral at Bisham was Warwick’s own. He was buried, along with his brother John, after Barnet. The bodies of the brothers were first put on display outside St Paul’s in London so that there would be no doubt that both were dead. It is sometimes stated that they were stripped naked, or dressed only in loincloths but a more sensible interpretation is that their armour was removed and they were displayed fully clothed. After this, both were removed to Bisham for burial.

Warwick had stated a preference to be buried at the Beauchamp chapel at Warwick Castle. Considering the circumstances of his death, and the lack of a voice to speak on his behalf (his wife was in sanctuary and neither of his daughters were in a position to speak up for him), such a request was unlikely to even be considered. Burial at a family mausoleum was more than most people could have hoped for in similar circumstances.

The funeral, though far less lavish than that of their parents and brother, Thomas, was neither hurried nor improperly carried out. Some shred of affection, and perhaps a strong sense of what he had once owed the Nevills, seems to have prompted Edward IV to ensure his cousins had a burial that was far removed from what might be expected either for fallen foes or traitors.  I’ve been hunting for more detail on this funeral, including who may have attended, though I can say that neither of the widows was there.

Not the funeral usually expected for 'traitors'

There is no trace now of any Nevills at Bisham. The priory was sacked during the dissolution of the monasteries and the effigies and bones either removed or destroyed. Salisbury’s effigy can be found at Burghfield church.

Nevill vignettes from The Last of the Barons

Previously, I’ve migrated what I hope are interesting posts from the Feast to Facebook. This time, I’m doing it the other way around.

More from The Last of the Barons.

First Warwick:

This princely personage, in the full vigour of his age, possessed all the attributes that endear the noble to the commons. His valour in the field was accompanied with a generosity rare in the captains of the time. He valued himself on sharing the perils and the hardships of his meanest soldier. His haughtiness to the great was not incompatible with frank affability to the lowly. His wealth was enormous, but it was equalled by his magnificence, and rendered popular by his lavish hospitality. No less than thirty thousand persons are said to have feasted daily at the open tables with which he allured to his countless castles the strong hands and grateful hearts of a martial and unsettled population. More haughty than ambitious, he was feared because he avenged all affront; and yet not envied, because he seemed above all favour.

And later:

The earl was in the lusty vigour of his age. His hair, of the deepest black, was worn short, as if in disdain of the effeminate fashions of the day; and fretted bare from the temples by the constant and early friction of his helmet, gave to a forehead naturally lofty yet more majestic appearance of expanse and height. His complexion, though dark and sunburned, glowed with rich health. The beard was closely shaven, and left in all its remarkable beauty the contour of the oval face and strong jaw,–strong as if clasped in iron. The features were marked and aquiline, as was common to those of Norman blood. The form spare, but of prodigious width and depth of chest, the more apparent from the fashion of the short surcoat, which was thrown back, and left in broad expanse a placard, not of holiday velvet and satins, but of steel polished as a mirror, and inlaid with gold. And now as, concluding his task, the earl rose and motioned Marmaduke to a stool by his side, his great stature, which, from the length of his limbs, was not so observable when he sat, actually startled his guest. Tall as Marmaduke was himself, the earl towered [The faded portrait of Richard Nevile, Earl of Warwick, in the Rous Roll, preserved at the Herald’s College, does justice, at least, to the height and majesty of his stature. The portrait of Edward IV. is the only one in that long series which at all rivals the stately proportions of the King-maker.] above him,–with his high, majestic, smooth, unwrinkled forehead,–like some Paladin of the rhyme of poet or romancer; and, perhaps, not only in this masculine advantage, but in the rare and harmonious combination of colossal strength with graceful lightness, a more splendid union of all the outward qualities we are inclined to give to the heroes of old never dazzled the eye or impressed the fancy. But even this effect of mere person was subordinate to that which this eminent nobleman created–upon his inferiors, at least–by a manner so void of all arrogance, yet of all condescension, so simple, open, cordial, and hero-like, that Marmaduke Nevile, peculiarly alive to external impressions, and subdued and fascinated by the earl’s first word, and that word was “Welcome!” dropped on his knee, and kissing the hand extended to him, said, “Noble kinsman, in thy service and for thy sake let me live and die!” Had the young man been prepared by the subtlest master of courtcraft for this interview, so important to his fortunes, he could not have advanced a hundredth part so far with the great earl as he did by that sudden, frank burst of genuine emotion; for Warwick was extremely sensitive to the admiration he excited,–vain or proud of it, it matters not which; grateful as a child for love, and inexorable as a woman for slight or insult: in rude ages, one sex has often the qualities of the other.

Then Montagu:

The Lord Montagu bore a very different character from his puissant brother. Though so skilful a captain that he had never been known to lose a battle, his fame as a warrior was, strange to say, below that of the great earl, whose prodigious strength had accomplished those personal feats that dazzled the populace, and revived the legendary renown of the earlier Norman knighthood. The caution and wariness, indeed, which Montagu displayed in battle probably caused his success as a general, and the injustice done to him (at least by the vulgar) as a soldier. Rarely had Lord Montagu, though his courage was indisputable, been known to mix personally in the affray. Like the captains of modern times, he contented himself with directing the manoeuvres of his men, and hence preserved that inestimable advantage of coolness and calculation, which was not always characteristic of the eager hardihood of his brother. The character of Montagu differed yet more from that of the earl in peace than in war. He was supposed to excel in all those supple arts of the courtier which Warwick neglected or despised; and if the last was on great occasions the adviser, the other in ordinary life was the companion of his sovereign. Warwick owed his popularity to his own large, open, daring, and lavish nature. The subtler Montagu sought to win, by care and pains, what the other obtained without an effort. He attended the various holiday meetings of the citizens, where Warwick was rarely seen. He was smooth-spoken and courteous to his equals, and generally affable, though with constraint, to his inferiors. He was a close observer, and not without that genius for intrigue, which in rude ages passes for the talent of a statesman. And yet in that thorough knowledge of the habits and tastes of the great mass, which gives wisdom to a ruler, he was far inferior to the earl. In common with his brother, he was gifted with the majesty of mien which imposes on the eye; and his port and countenance were such as became the prodigal expense of velvet, minever, gold, and jewels, by which the gorgeous magnates of the day communicated to their appearance the arrogant splendour of their power.

And not till Book IV Chapter V… The Archbishop:

The archbishop had very little of the energy of Montagu or the impetuosity of Warwick, but he had far more of what we now call mind, as distinct from talent, than either; that is, he had not their capacities for action, but he had a judgment and sagacity that made him considered a wise and sound adviser: this he owed principally to the churchman’s love of ease, and to his freedom from the wear and tear of the passions which gnawed the great minister and the aspiring courtier; his natural intellect was also fostered by much learning. George Nevile had been reared, by an Italian ecclesiastic, in all the subtle diplomacy of the Church; and his ambition, despising lay objects (though he consented to hold the office of chancellor), was concentrated in that kingdom over kings which had animated the august dominators of religious Rome. Though, as we have said, still in that age when the affections are usually vivid, [He was consecrated Bishop of Exeter at the age of twenty; at twenty-six he became Archbishop of York, and was under thirty at the time referred to in the text.] George Nevile loved no human creature,–not even his brothers; not even King Edward, who, with all his vices, possessed so eminently the secret that wins men’s hearts. His early and entire absorption in the great religious community, which stood apart from the laymen in order to control them, alienated him from his kind; and his superior instruction only served to feed him with a calm and icy contempt for all that prejudice, as he termed it, held dear and precious. He despised the knight’s wayward honour, the burgher’s crafty honesty. For him no such thing as principle existed; and conscience itself lay dead in the folds of a fancied exemption from all responsibility to the dull herd, that were but as wool and meat to the churchman shepherd. But withal, if somewhat pedantic, he had in his manner a suavity and elegance and polish which suited well his high station, and gave persuasion to his counsels. In all externals he was as little like a priest as the high-born prelates of that day usually were. In dress he rivalled the fopperies of the Plantagenet brothers; in the chase he was more ardent than Warwick had been in his earlier youth; and a dry sarcastic humour, sometimes elevated into wit, gave liveliness to his sagacious converse.

I don’t know about you, but I’m breathless!

(This is my favourite chapter heading:
BOOK IV CHAPTER II. IN WHICH ARE LAID OPEN TO THE READER THE CHARACTER OF EDWARD THE FOURTH AND THAT OF HIS COURT, WITH THE MACHINATIONS OF THE WOODVILLES AGAINST THE EARL OF WARWICK.