by Penny Lawne
It was also in this period that John of Gaunt began his liaison with Katherine Swynford, governess to his children by Blanche of Lancaster, a passionate love affair which resulted in four children born between 1372 and 1379 (John in 1373, Henry in 1375, Thomas in 1377 and Joan in 1379).17 Gaunt was much criticised for failing to keep his affair secret, but there is no indication that his family disapproved, and it is evident that the prince and Joan condoned his behaviour. Joan’s own marital history may well have made her feel considerable sympathy for her brother-in-law, if not for his mistress. It seems likely that the name chosen by John and Katherine for their daughter, Joan, was in honour of Joan and she may even have been asked to act as godmother.18
In February 1372 the mayor and aldermen of London’s gift to the prince arrived: a full set of plate including six large gilded pots, one spice plate, three gilded basins, six ewers, six basins of silver, twelve silver bottles, three dozen silver beakers, twenty silver chargers, ten dozen silver porringers (deep dishes), five dozen silver saltcellars, one gilded cup in the shape of an acorn, and a pair of ivory bottles. The prince had exhausted his energies and was too ill to receive it, and it was Joan who penned the letter of thanks. Describing herself as Princess of Aquitaine and Wales she wrote,
Very dear and well beloved. We have fully heard of the great gifts that of your own free will for us you have ordained; for the which we do thank you with all our heart, letting you know for certain that if you shall have any matter to transact with us, as to the which we may reasonably avail you, we will well remember the same, and to the best of our power will do it with good heart … Very dear and well beloved, may God have you in his keeping. Given under our signet at Berkhamsted, on the 23rd day of February.19
Although presumably written at the prince’s instigation, the letter has a warmth and simplicity to it which was entirely Joan’s, with no trace of hauteur or arrogance. By small acts like this Joan’s reputation and popularity grew.
Notwithstanding Gaunt’s withdrawal from Aquitaine, the prince and his father remained determined to re-establish English authority in the principality. In June 1372 a new expedition was dispatched, led by the Earl of Pembroke and the prince’s friend Guichard d’Angle in the absence of the incapacitated prince. The venture was a fiasco, not even making it onto French soil, with the fleet annihilated by the Castilian navy of Henry of Trastámara at La Rochelle. Humiliatingly, Pembroke, d’Angle and several other nobles were taken prisoner; the Earl of Pembroke died and the others were later released on ransom. The failure left the way open for the inexorable march of the French king through Aquitaine, and successively the towns were lost, with Angoulême, then Poitiers, falling to the French. It was obvious to Edward III and the prince that they could not entrust the resumption of English dominance in France to anyone else, and in August 1372, having cemented an alliance with John Montfort, Duke of Brittany (the prince’s stepson-in-law through his marriage to Joan Holand), they launched another expedition, under their personal command. Once again the prince made a superhuman effort to overcome his illness, hoping no doubt that once in the field he would be fit enough to direct the army, even if it had to be from a litter, as at Limoges. Accompanying Edward III and the prince were the prince’s brothers, John of Gaunt and Edmund of Langley, and the earls of Warwick, Suffolk, Salisbury, March and Hereford; this was a major undertaking involving all of the military nobles and a huge number of troops. Hopes and expectations were high. The five-year-old Prince Richard was appointed guardian of the realm, and at least one chronicler recorded that aboard the king’s flagship Grâce de Dieu at Sandwich the prince asked the nobles present to swear that they would make sure Richard succeeded to the throne if he and his father died. This was an unusual request and has been interpreted by some historians as evidence that the prince feared that in such an eventuality his brother Gaunt would force his own claims on the throne. But there is no evidence of any difficulty between the brothers and the prince’s request is far more likely to reflect a continuing underlying nervousness about the legal validity of his marriage. Disastrously, poor weather prevented the fleet from landing in France and continued to do so. After two months at sea they were forced to return to England, and the army was disbanded in October. The frustration and disappointment of the commanders can only be imagined. Worse still, the sojourn at sea had considerably exacerbated the prince’s ill health, and it became obvious that he was not well enough to lead a further operation. It was the prince’s last attempt to engage in a military campaign.20
Reluctantly the prince, and everyone else, was forced to accept that he was unlikely to ever recover his health, which had obvious implications for Aquitaine. This was a hard truth for Edward III to swallow. In September 1372 the king made his heir guardian of the realm and in October summoned him to Parliament, ‘as he loves the king and his honour and his own – as the king would not that business so difficult be treated or directed without the prince’s advice and counsel’.21 The king’s affection for his son remained strong and his trust absolute, and it was therefore with a heavy heart that he was forced to accept the reality of his son’s condition. On 5 November 1372 the prince, using Sir Guy Brian as his spokesman, confirmed to Parliament that he was formally relinquishing his title Prince of Aquitaine, and he surrendered the deeds of the principality to the king.22 It was a sad end to all the hopes and expectations of just ten years earlier. Although the official reason cited for the prince stepping down was given as financial (specifically that the revenue recoverable from the principality was insufficient to meet the considerable expenses of maintaining the prince and his administration), no one was fooled. The prince had never been defeated in combat but he was no longer the man he had once been. Without the prince at the helm the Aquitanian experiment could not survive. His loyal and hard-working staff were only part of the package; managing the principality, retaining the loyalty of the local nobility and keeping the threat of French encroachment at bay had all depended on the prince being there in person. His illness had taken its toll, and he was simply too sick to return; there was no question that he would be able to sustain the style of government he had established, with his flamboyant court in Bordeaux and Angoulême. Conceding failure in Aquitaine was a huge and bitter blow, heralding a bleak future for the prince.
Christmas that year must have been a sombre time for Joan and their family. As it was now abundantly obvious that the prince would never regain his health, it also seemed probable that the prince might not outlive his father, and that if he did it was unlikely to be for very long. This inevitably changed the prince’s attitude towards outside affairs. In many ways the prince simply gave up after the failure of the expedition. With his hopes dashed for a recovery of his health and a resumption of his place in Aquitaine, and no longer believing that he would succeed his father, he showed little interest in politics. His presence at court was muted, lacking the energy and flamboyance which had characterised Aquitaine. Nevertheless he remained the heir and was conscious of his responsibilities. Unable to cope with journeying frequently, he took up more or less permanent residence at Kennington, the palace having the advantage of being conveniently close to Westminster while keeping the prince and his family separate from the main centre of affairs. During the last three years of his life the prince rarely moved more than fifty miles from London. It must have been extremely difficult for a man who had been fit and active for so much of his life to accept that he would now always be an invalid, and frequently bedridden. His illness not only prevented him from actively participating in public life but from attending events and partaking in activities, like hunting and jousting, which he had so enjoyed and in which he had so excelled. Joan remained constantly at her husband’s side, though she may well have found him a difficult and demanding companion. With the prince’s continued physical dependency his relationship with his wife would inevitably have changed, and it is hard not to imagine that Joan was increasingly consulted and a party to decisions affec
ting them both. Inevitably the prince’s thoughts turned inwards, as he contemplated his own death and what this might mean for his son. Increasingly the small figure of Prince Richard became the focus, as it was apparent that it was more likely that Richard, rather than his father, would succeed Edward III, and that when he did he would still be a minor. This, for the prince, increased the importance of his wife’s role, and he doubtless spent much time discussing Richard’s future with Joan.
Richard was six in January 1373, and it would have been around this time that arrangements were made for him to have a tutor. There does not seem to have been any discussion or intention that Richard should be given his own independent household or live separately from his parents, and it was probably the prince’s wish as much as Joan’s that he remained with them and accompanied his parents as they moved between Kennington and Berkhamsted. As Richard grew older he naturally needed a resident tutor to give him the education and skills considered necessary for one of his status, including riding and hunting, dancing and singing, and learning to read and write. Richard’s first language was probably French, taught to him in his earliest days by his Aquitanian wet nurse and bed rocker, and probably also by his parents; later, when he was king, Joan wrote to her son in French. He also learned English and could read Latin. It seems unlikely that the prince chose his son’s tutor without discussing it with his wife first. In fact, Richard seems to have had three tutors. One was Richard Abberbury, one of the prince’s knights, who also acted as steward of his household. Another, Guichard d’Angle, an able Poitevin knight who had originally served the King of France, was captured at Poitiers and subsequently went on to serve the prince in Aquitaine and fought at Nájera, and with Gaunt in Aquitaine in 1371. He was made a knight of the Garter in 1372 and took part in the expedition to La Rochelle, where he was captured and spent the next two years as a prisoner in France. Simon Burley was Richard’s last tutor, a long-standing member of the prince’s retinue who served in Aquitaine (he fought at Nájera and Limoges, and was also at one stage a prisoner of the French) as well as in England.23 Abberbury was probably Richard’s first tutor and replaced by d’Angle on his return to England in 1374, who was in turn replaced by Simon Burley. Abberbury and Burley both became trusted and valued friends to Joan, and she would later appoint both to act as her executors in her will.
Richard’s parents were anxious not to isolate their son, and ensured that, like his father and his grandfather, he grew up in the company of other boys of similar age, one of whom was his cousin, Henry of Bolingbroke, John of Gaunt’s son, and another, Robert de Vere, son of Aubrey de Vere, one of the prince’s knights and a member of his council. The presence of so many young boys would have enlivened the palace, and probably lifted the prince’s spirits as he lay sick. Richard was also surrounded by his extended family; his half-brother John Holand was on the prince’s staff, and his half-sister Lady Maud Courtenay spent much time staying with her mother, an arrangement that became permanent when Hugh died in 1374, leaving Maud a childless widow. When John Montfort was forced to return to England in April 1373 after Brittany was overrun by the French, his young wife, Joan, took the opportunity to stay with her mother and catch up with the family, remaining with them when John returned to France to join Gaunt a few months later.24 The close ties between Richard and his half-siblings in later life indicate a happy and loving relationship with them that would have been established during his childhood.
In June 1373 the prince was sufficiently strong to preside at a council at Westminster debating a fresh papal demand to enforce papal taxation, and he was also able to consult with his own council, but such appearances were becoming increasingly rare.25 With the prince incapacitated and his father in decline there was a vacuum in royal leadership; both turned naturally to John of Gaunt to handle Crown affairs and Gaunt was the obvious choice to lead a further expedition to France. In August 1373 Gaunt set off from Calais with 11,000 men, with hopes riding high.26 A victory would restore national morale and improve England’s prestige abroad. But although the chevauchée progressed from Calais to Bordeaux, the army suffered heavy losses through harassment and lack of provisions, and Gaunt was unable to bring the French army to battle. In England the expedition was considered a disaster. Gaunt returned in April 1374, with little to show for his nine months in France. This was not only a huge personal disappointment but a real setback in royal prestige, and bad luck for Gaunt. His father and brother had been so outstandingly successful that his own reputation suffered in comparison. Worse was to follow, as the atmosphere of goodwill and mutual support which had characterised Edward III’s court in the 1360s dissolved. Cracks began to appear in the famously unified royal circle. Gaunt had fallen out with John Montfort, Joan’s son-in-law, while in France, apparently incensed that Montfort had been unable to help with the payment of troops, with the result that Montfort withdrew and relations between the two remained difficult for some years. After the failed expedition Gaunt increasingly favoured negotiation with France and a dignified withdrawal of English interest, and he played a leading role in the peace negotiations promoted by the Pope later that year which ended inconclusively the following year, in June 1375, with agreement for a year’s truce.27
After a lifetime devoted to the conflict the prince may not have viewed Gaunt’s growing disenchantment with affairs in France with much sympathy, but he was powerless to do much about it. The prince manifestly lacked the strength, as did his father, to provide the leadership needed. While John of Gaunt was conducting the negotiations in Bruges royal leadership foundered. Edward III was a shadow of his former self, and seemed to be helpless in the hands of the officials who surrounded him, allowing more and more influence to his mistress, Alice Perrers. According to the Chronicon Angliae ‘the English … tolerated her for many years because they had great affection for the king and were afraid of offending him’.28 The continued lack of success in the war with France inevitably led to discontent in Parliament, and resentment at the huge sums being expended on funding a war with so little apparent result. Inevitably opinion became divided between those who supported a continuation of the war and those who felt the time had come to reach a settlement. There was criticism of royal leadership and dissatisfaction with the conduct of affairs and a growing divide between those who supported the Crown and those who opposed royal policy. Many of those prominent in opposition were close friends of the prince, including William Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester, the earls of March and Salisbury, and John Harewell, who had been his chancellor in Aquitaine for six years, and it has been suggested that this indicates he shared their views, or that they reflected his opinion.29 It is however unlikely that the prince at any time consciously opposed his father, although he may well have felt some distaste for the apparent influence permitted the king’s mistress, but even if he had wished to, he was simply unable to intervene himself.
In contrast to Alice Perrers, Joan remained very much in the background. This is in some ways surprising, given the vacuum in royal leadership and the fact that Joan was the most senior woman in the royal circle. As the wife of the heir to the throne and the king’s daughter-in-law she was in a singular position, and with the deterioration in Edward III, the prince’s ill health and the growing certainty that her son would succeed his grandfather as a minor, it would have been natural if Joan had been accorded and taken a more distinctive role. Politically and socially the king and his family were naturally at the centre of affairs. However, it is notable that the prince did not encourage his wife to take a more prominent role. This is perhaps understandable in the political sphere. Traditionally women did not usually engage in politics, and as the prince was by upbringing and temperament used to relying on his male peers, the close relationship between him and his younger brother made Gaunt his obvious deputy. He may simply have felt that there was no need to involve Joan in the difficult maelstrom of domestic politics. But with Gaunt engaged elsewhere, and his own ill health, the prince might well have
promoted his wife to represent their interests, trusting in her absolute loyalty and shared concern for their son. Joan herself might have taken advantage of the circumstances to take a more influential role. In fact, given the situation, it is evident that it was a deliberate decision by both the prince and Joan that she should not. The reason for this was almost certainly their concern to protect their son. Taking a leading role in political affairs would immediately attract criticism and unwelcome attention which might resurrect the whole matter of Joan’s marital history, with the obvious danger that this could call into question their son’s legitimacy, and threaten the succession. According to Froissart, the Pope had already threatened to declare Richard illegitimate after Limoges.30 Although Froissart is not always a reliable source this indicates that the legality and validity of the prince’s marriage remained a matter of concern. Considering the care which had been taken by the prince with his father when his marriage to Joan had taken place, his guidance to his wife on her role, and the favourable esteem with which she was now held, it is unlikely that either of them would have wanted to risk her reputation at this stage by drawing critical attention to her.
