by Penny Lawne
Vergil’s story of the founding of the Order of the Garter is a powerful and attractive tale which gave Joan iconic status many years after her death, and in some ways it is fitting given the background of the papal proceedings over her marital status, and her close relationship to four of the order’s founding members. Yet it is also ironic that Joan should have this close association with Edward III’s great symbol of chivalry, for there was nothing chivalrous about the way Joan was treated. The chivalric ideals were of courage, courtesy and respect, and generosity towards the weak and the poor. Women were regarded as deserving special treatment, with knights having a duty to honour and defend them; treatises on knighthood suggested that love for a woman should be an ennobling and inspirational force. However, it is evident from Thomas and William’s behaviour that it was Joan’s value as a matrimonial prize, rather than her beauty and desirability, which was at stake for them. In their legal wrangling for recognition as her husband, they treated her as a means to an end, and in the process gave little thought to her feelings. Consideration for Joan’s general welfare was similarly lacking in two other renowned knights, her uncle Thomas Wake and William Montague, Earl of Salisbury, William’s father. Edward III’s own conduct throughout the marital debacle is hardly edifying, as he allowed his young cousin to be treated shamefully by his household knight, by her family, by his best friend and his best friend’s son and heir. Yet historically it was Joan’s reputation which suffered, enabling the chronicler Adam of Usk in 1399 to suggest that Joan had been guilty of ‘slippery ways’ in her marital affairs, while no hint of disapproval or blame has been attached to the conduct of the male protagonists in the affair.85
6
Lady Holand: A Wife at Last
1350–1352
Wives should be wise and sound administrators and manage their affairs well.
Christine de Pizan
More than eight years had passed since Joan married Thomas Holand in the spring of 1341, and they had never lived, or spent much time, together. What would married life hold for Joan, and how would she be treated now she was Lady Holand, and no longer the Countess of Salisbury? In the papal bull dated 13 November 1349 Pope Clement VI required the bishops of London and Norwich, and the Bishop of Comacchio, the papal nuncio, to publicly solemnise Thomas and Joan’s marriage. No one was to be left in any doubt that Joan was properly married to Thomas, and that she was not married to William. The service confirming their marriage would have taken place in England shortly after the date of the Pope’s injunction, and would have been conducted by one of these bishops. It would have been fitting for the king and queen to have attended or at least to have been represented if they were not actually present. Edward III was possibly absent, as he and Prince Edward left secretly for France with a handful of knights shortly before Christmas, having learned of a plan by the French commander Geoffrey de Charny to retake Calais by stealth. By Christmas 1349 Joan was at last formally recognised as Thomas’ wife, and able to take her place at his side. Any celebrations for Joan were muted by the effect of the plague’s relentless course, but it would have been unthinkable for the king and queen not to acknowledge the new Lady Holand and Joan probably celebrated her first Christmas with Thomas with the royal family before she embarked on her new life. Although Edward III and Philippa must have been relieved that the matter was finally settled, the occasion was not noted by the granting of any individual favours to either Joan or Thomas. It is difficult not to imagine that Joan’s emotions were mixed, with her happiness perhaps tinged with apprehension, as leaving the court meant parting from all those who had been close to her over the years to start a life with a man she barely knew, despite all that they had gone through together.
In material terms Joan’s circumstances also changed considerably. Edward III’s court was an affluent, colourful and busy place thronged with people, the large royal family surrounded by members of the nobility, served and supported by armies of servants. Joan had spent most of her life living at court, and for the last eight years she had enjoyed a publicly prestigious status among her peers as Countess of Salisbury. William Montague was also extremely wealthy, with substantial lands and estates. Joan was exchanging this for a very different lifestyle as the wife of a member of the lower gentry. Thomas was still a knight of very modest means. As a household knight Thomas was probably paid about £12 a year, and this was increased on campaign to a daily contractual payment of 2s a day, whereas an earl like William Montague was paid three times as much for his service.1 Thomas’ mother had done her best to help him, and he did have two small annuities, and during Maud’s lifetime the income from three Northamptonshire manors. When she died she left him a lifetime interest in two manors, Yoxall in Staffordshire and Broughton in Buckinghamshire, which did at least mean that he had somewhere to live with Joan, but a great deal less than he might have hoped to achieve. His success in the Crécy campaign should have warranted his promotion to the rank of banneret, but the fact that this had not happened suggests that he lacked the £200 annual income needed to support the status.2 He was by no means alone in being in this position; his fellow companion in arms Sir John Chandos, for example, despite a similarly excellent record, did not become a banneret until 1360, when he received estates which enabled him to support the rank.
Yet by the end of 1349 Thomas should have received in full the three instalments he had been promised by Edward III for the Count of Eu, and had he done so he would have been a very rich man, and could have purchased estates to provide the requisite income and augment his status. Thomas had evidently received some, if not all, of the first instalment at least, as it had been this which had given him the ability to take the papal proceedings, but it appears that he did not receive the second or third instalments. The suggestion has been made that Thomas had not completed the transfer of the count to the king in the approved manner and therefore Edward III had good reason to refrain from making full payment.3 The king had placed the Count of Eu in the custody of Otto Holand (Thomas’ brother), and Otto had disobeyed his orders by taking the count out of England, for which he was punished with imprisonment in July 1350.4 However, Otto was not Thomas’ responsibility, and the king is unlikely to have used Otto’s failing as a justification for reneging on his agreement to pay Thomas. It is more probable that as the count’s ransom was still being negotiated in France the king had yet to receive any money, and Edward III was short of cash.5 In November 1350 the count was released on parole and returned to France in order to raise the money for his ransom, and had he been able to do so Thomas would probably have been paid.6 Unfortunately the count was arrested shortly after his arrival in Paris, accused of treason and summarily executed; thereafter the French had little incentive to pay the count’s ransom. This would explain why the exchequer made no further payments to Thomas, although it is hardly a justifiable excuse as the wording of the grant to Thomas by the king had been unambiguously unconditional. Whatever the real reason, the failure to make full payment was a blow for Thomas, and left him dependant on his career and any prospects he might now acquire as Joan’s husband.
It was probably in January 1350 that Thomas took his bride to her new residence, taking leave from a triumphant Edward III. The king had achieved an exhilarating success in Calais by a daring ambush which had prevented Geoffrey de Charny from retaking the town. Thomas had not had time since Maud’s death to be at either of his manors, and taking Joan to them was his first opportunity to become more familiar with them himself. Broughton, with its closer proximity to the court, was probably his preferred choice as a residence. The universally catastrophic depredations of the Black Death would have left both manors short of workers, and in a poor state of repair. Thomas’ first priority would have been to re-establish the arable crops and livestock to bring in food and income. Inheriting his mother’s manor staff, he would have relied on their knowledge and expertise to overcome the effects of the plague. This was also Joan’s first experience of running her own h
ousehold. As Countess of Salisbury, she should have been the head of a large household with many servants and attendants, helping to run William’s estates with his council in his absences abroad, but the peculiar circumstances of their marriage had denied her this position. As William’s wife she had been kept closely cocooned, first within the royal household and then as William’s captive, with William’s mother and forceful grandmother filling her role. The most obvious impact of her new status must have been the freedom she now enjoyed. Even if her role in the day-to-day affairs of running the two manors was fairly limited, she now enjoyed an independence she had previously lacked.
This was also the first opportunity Thomas and Joan had to be alone together as a couple and to get to know one another properly. Almost immediately Joan conceived (their first child was born in 1350), indicating that her marriage to William had indeed been celibate.7 Joan did not enjoy her solitude with her husband for long. In March 1350 Thomas was ordered to report for duty, and rejoined the rest of the army, which was gathering at Sandwich. This time the intended target was the Castilian navy. After Princess Joan’s death, the alliance made with Castile had foundered, and Philip of France had bribed Alfonso of Castile to allow him the use of the Castilian navy. These ships engaged in piratical acts along the shipping lanes, and posed an invasion threat. Edward III could not allow this, and planned to remove the danger by attacking the Castilian fleet. In August the king set sail with his force from Sandwich, and engaged the Castilians off the English coast at Winchelsea in Sussex. The Castilians were defeated, their ships sunk, captured or fled. The battle took place so close to the shore that the queen, who had travelled to be with her husband, was able to watch from the cliff tops, with her household. Joan may well have been invited to join the royal party, and would doubtless have been welcomed by the queen, who would have been able to give her some practical advice on her pregnancy. After the king’s triumph, the army was once again disbanded, allowing Thomas to take his wife back to their manors.
Thomas no doubt hoped that the recognition of his marriage to Joan would result in a new relationship with the king which would be reflected in his career. Initially there is no indication that his hopes were realised, as after the engagement at Winchelsea there was an uneasy truce between England and France, with a suspension of military activities which limited the opportunities for advancement. With no military engagements Thomas was forced to spend many months away from active service, giving him time with Joan that she must have valued highly. There was little to occupy Thomas in the management of two manors, and he would have looked elsewhere for an outlet for his energies. He was not a man to sit and wait without occupation. His opportunistic marriage to Joan indicated that he fully realised the importance of making connections with people of rank, and it is inconceivable that he would neglect the opportunity afforded by his enforced idleness to capitalise on strengthening his newly won ties with Joan’s influential relations. His choice of godfather for his firstborn son is significant. By the end of 1350 Joan had borne Thomas their first child, a boy named Thomas, after his father.8 Prince Edward stood as godfather, attending the christening, which was probably held at Broughton church. As Thomas had been under his command the prince was perhaps a natural choice for godfather, and the prince was also known to be fond of his cousin, but there is no doubt that he was also an extremely valuable and influential patron for the young Thomas. The prince did not neglect his godchild in his first few years either, as the prince’s household accounts record that in April 1353 he presented his godson with a handsome gift of two silver basins, enamelled at the bottom, worth more than £10, suggesting that he probably gave him regular annual gifts.9
The affection between Joan and her brother would have made a visit to the young Earl of Kent and his wife Elizabeth natural. The vicissitudes of the last few years had seen great changes in John’s life as well. John had taken part in the Crécy campaign, probably under the aegis of Henry of Lancaster (as he appears among Henry’s retinue for 1346–7), but unlike Thomas Holand and William Montague, and in contrast to his cousin Prince Edward, he does not seem to have shown any military prowess and may not even have been present at the battle.10 Nevertheless, Edward III had granted him his full inheritance in 1347 when he was only seventeen, giving John independence from his mother. John had become a very wealthy young man, with estates in seventeen counties, comprising forty-three manors, with the right to thirty advowsons as well as extensive income from annual rents and knight’s fees, the latter extending over a further six counties. At a conservative estimate these brought in a collective annual income of just under £6,000, nearly six times the income considered necessary to support the style of an earl.11 When John had married Elizabeth in the spring of 1348, Joan may not have been able to attend their wedding, as it was around this time that the Pope was issuing instructions for Joan to be freed from confinement by William. When Margaret died in 1349 John inherited his mother’s dower properties and the Wake estates which she had inherited from her brother, Thomas Wake. These were granted to John in February 1350, and a year later, on 10 April 1351, Edward III confirmed his inheritance.12 Until John and Elizabeth had children, Joan was John’s heir, a fact of which Thomas would have been keenly aware, while John may well have been in awe of his formidable brother-in-law, whose achievements on campaign had been matched by his determined pursuit of his sister. Possibly Thomas and Joan stayed with them at Castle Donington in Leicestershire, and if so then they may have extended their trip to pay their respects to Blanche Wake, Thomas Wake’s widow, at Bourne Castle in Lincolnshire. As Henry of Lancaster’s sister, Blanche had doubtless supported her husband’s views on Joan’s marriage to Thomas and it seems unlikely that she ever developed warm feelings for her niece’s husband. Blanche, however, knew what was due to family, and Joan was probably able to repair her own relationship with her aunt, although there is no evidence that they ever became close.
Apart from her brother, Joan’s two closest blood relatives were her cousins, Margaret and Alice, the daughters of her father’s brother, Thomas Brotherton, Earl of Norfolk. Margaret was the elder and about eight years older than Joan. In her earliest years at court Joan would have seen little of her cousins, and it would certainly not have been a connection encouraged by her mother, who would not have forgotten or forgiven Thomas Brotherton for his failure to help her when Edmund was executed. The Earl of Norfolk died in 1338, and after Joan ‘married’ William Montague in 1341 it is likely that she became more familiar with her cousin Alice, who was married to William’s uncle Edward Montague. The youngest of Edward and Alice’s five children was called Joan, quite possibly named after Joan and with her acting as godmother.13 Unfortunately Alice died in January 1352, preventing a closer relationship between the cousins.14 Margaret was a more forceful and determined personality, and seems to have taken encouragement from Joan’s matrimonial tangles. Margaret had been married as a child by her father to his ward, John Segrave, and by 1338 had borne him two children.15 The marriage did not, however, please Margaret, and in October 1350 she went in person to Rome to secure a divorce from her husband, claiming that she had agreed to marry before she was of a marriageable age and had never agreed to cohabit with him.16 She was unsuccessful, and had to wait for her freedom until 1353, when Segrave died, whereupon she immediately married Sir Walter Mauny, one of the queen’s favourite knights.17 In doing so Margaret incurred the king’s disapproval as she had failed to get his permission first, as well as having crossed the Channel in contravention of the king’s orders, and a year later she found herself imprisoned for a short time when the council took proceedings against her.18 It was many months before the king pardoned her. There is nothing to suggest that Margaret and Joan ever became close, and this may partly be due to Margaret’s matrimonial affairs. While Thomas Holand might have had some sympathy with Margaret, recognising in her determination and willingness to take risks a kindred spirit, he might have felt it prudent to maintain a distan
ce between them until the king’s wrath had abated.
There is unfortunately no evidence to indicate what kind of relationship Joan enjoyed with the royal princesses. Joan had been brought up with princesses Isabella and Joan, and of all her contemporaries these were her most obvious bosom companions. Although Princess Joan had died, Princess Isabella remained unmarried and at court, and was a favourite with her parents. Joan was about four years older than Isabella, and it would have been natural for her to have become close to Isabella as they grew up, and to maintain any attachment in adulthood. Joan had been living with Isabella when she married Thomas Holand in 1340, and had remained with the princess for most of the subsequent nine-year period, with Isabella witnessing at close hand the effects on her cousin of her anomalous situation. The eventual triumph for Joan in being united with the man of her choice and surviving her family’s opposition was a lesson Isabella might well have taken to heart. In 1351 Isabella was nineteen, and Edward III announced his consent to the marriage of ‘our very dear daughter whom we have loved with special affection’ to Bernard, heir to Bernard d’Albret – almost the same match which had been agreed for Joan eleven years previously in 1340.19 The importance of the alliance for the king in diplomatic terms was obvious but it seems a surprising match to impose on a daughter of whom he was unashamedly fond if she was unwilling, and it is therefore intriguing to note that Isabella refused to board the ship that had been ordered to take her to Gascony, and the match was subsequently called off. Isabella’s spirited defiance and independence enabled her to avoid matrimony until July 1365, when at the age of thirty-three she married Enguerrand de Coucy, a French knight being held hostage in England at the time; quite clearly a personal choice.
