At one side was the King’s box, from which he judged the combatants. Olivier de la Marche of the Burgundian party describes the King’s maison as very great and spacious, ascended by steps to the upper part where the King sat with his counsellors and friends. Below him on both sides of the steps sat the knights, then the esquires, then the archers of the crown. At the foot of the steps sat the Constable and the Marshall who imposed order and controlled the crowd. On the opposite side of the lists was a box for the Lord Mayor and aldermen of London.4 John Stow, a sixteenthcentury historian, adds that ‘faire and costly galeries [were] prepared for the ladies and other’, but he does not indicate where.5 The Great Chronicle states that the Queen attended along with ‘most of the great estates of this land’.6 At this point, Elizabeth was seven months pregnant with Edward’s second child.
In keeping with the splendour of the occasion, Anthony, Lord Scales made his official entrance to the city as the nation’s champion on Friday. Arriving by barge from Greenwich, he was met at St Katharine’s beside the Tower of London by the Constable, Marshall, Treasurer, and a host of other nobles, knights and squires. Riding on horseback and wearing a long gown of ‘rich cloth of gold tissue’, with a herald and pursuivant carrying his coat of arms before him, he arrived at the home of the Bishop of Ely in Holborn, where he stayed temporarily. On 10 June, he moved to St Bartholomews near Smithfield to spend the night, this time accompanied by a retinue of dukes, earls, barons, knights, squires and minstrels.
As the games began, the field was prepared for the King’s entrance by setting a guard at every other post around the field and a King of Arms at every corner. The King, wearing purple robes and the Garter on his thigh, carried his staff of office as he ascended to his box. ‘Truly he seemed a person well worthy to be King, for he was a very fine Prince, and tall, and well mannered’, wrote Paston’s scribe.7 An earl stood at the King’s side holding the sword before him, and twenty or so counsellors, ‘all with white hair’, gathered around him. After the King was seated, the Mayor, aldermen, and ‘persons of the law’ entered. The Mayor’s sword of office was borne before him but pointed downwards, in respect, as the procession passed the King. All kneeled to salute the King on their way to the Mayor’s box at the opposite side of the lists
Anthony, Lord Scales entered next, preceded by the Duke of Clarence and the Earl of Arundel, each carrying a helmet. The weapons of the day, two spears and two swords, were borne by the Earl of Kent, Lord Buckingham, Lord Herbert and Lord Stafford. After asking and receiving permission from the Constable and Marshall, Anthony entered the lists on horseback, followed by nine richly-dressed horses. He ‘came before the King’s highness and did him reverence as appertained’, then retired to his pavilion constructed in the south-east corner of the field, to await the start of the jousting.
The Chester Herald’s account describes this pageantry in great detail. Anthony’s own horse wore trappings ‘of white cloth of gold, with a cross of Saint George of crimson velvet, bordered with a fringe of gold half a foot long’. His second horse was trapped in tawny velvet ‘accomplished with many great bells’. The third had russet damask to his feet, with two heraldic markings worked in gold; the fourth wore purple damask decorated ‘with gentlewoman’s girdle enforced with goldsmith’s work, bordered with blue cloth of gold and half-foot broad and more’. The fifth was trapped to the foot in blue velvet, with pleats of crimson satin along the trapper, worked with gold and bordered with green velvet. The sixth’s cloth of gold crimson was bordered for a foot and a half with fine sable fur. The green, foot-length trappings of the seventh horse were decorated with ‘the attire of gentlewomen of France in gold, bordered with russet cloth of gold a half-foot wide’. The eighth wore tawny damask. The ninth horse splendidly concluded the parade with a long trapper of ermines, bordered with crimson velvet and tassels of gold. Pages mounted on each horse wore mantles of green velvet, ‘embroidered with goldsmith’s work, richly made’.8
The pavilion to which Anthony retired was made of ‘double blue satin, richly embroidered with his letters’. A banner of his arms flew from the top, with a total of eight banners flying from his tent. St George’s banner flew beside the King’s tent, and banners depicting the arms of other lords flew from every other post around the field.
The entrance of the Bastard of Burgundy was equally splendid. The horse he rode wore crimson trappings hung with silver bells alternating with gold. A second horse carrying his arms was led by four knights. The third wore trappings of foot-length ermine, with reins of fine sable. The fourth wore leather trappings covered with cloth of gold. The fifth was covered with crimson velvet to the feet, and was decorated with a device of eyes filled with teardrops, in goldsmith’s work. The sixth wore cloth of silver and fine purple to the feet. The seventh’s green velvet was decorated with ‘barbacans richly made’. The eighth was trapped ‘in fine sables to the foote’, with reins of ermine. His pages wore gowns of velvet, with two pleats in white and ‘one yellow garnished with goldsmith’s work’. The Chester Herald may scant the Bastard of Burgundy’s retinue, for Olivier de la Marche mentions twelve horses and a small tent to which he retired, while the English scribe states that the Bastard had no pavilion but armed himself in the open. The rich and colourful pageantry of both accounts still build excitement today.
As the knights prepared for battle, the Constable and Marshall forbade the crowd from approaching the lists during the jousting and from making
…any noise, murmur, or shout, or any other manner token or sign whereby the said right noble and worshipful lordes and knights which this day shall do their armes within these lists, or either of them, shall move, be troubled or comforted, upon pain of imprisonment and fine and ransom at the King’s will.9
The silence of a golf match, rather than the raucous cheering of a football game, accompanied this contest of champions.
After such splendour, the jousting itself was almost anticlimactic. In the first encounter, each rider on horseback ran towards the other with lance aimed at his opponent. Accounts vary, but apparently both champions missed their marks on the first run. The second contest was fought on horseback with swords. In the close fighting, Anthony first struck the Bastard on the neck and received in turn a blow on the helmet. But the horses collided and the Bastard’s horse fell to the ground with his rider. The accounts differ regarding the cause of the collision. The Great Chronicle reports that the bay courser of the Bastard ran into a steel spike on the harness of Anthony’s grey courser that ‘struck the blind horse so sharply in the nostrils that with pain of that stroke he mounted so high that he fell with his master in the field’. A steel spike would have violated the rules of chivalry and discredited Anthony. The Chester Herald contradicts that report, stating that Anthony ‘rode straight and light before the King, and made take off his trapper, showing that his horse had no chamfron [armour] nor piercer of steel’. The Burgundian Olivier de la Marche also exonerates Anthony:
Monsieur the Bastard fell under his horse, with his sword in his hand. And quickly the King of England made them raise him up; and he [the Bastard] showed himself much enraged against the said Lord Scales, for that he thought that he had committed falseness in the furniture of his horse: yet he had not, but this stroke and this fall happened by mischance.10
The rules of combat allowed the Bastard a fresh horse, but the King decided that the day’s games should conclude at that point.
The second day of combat took place on foot, with weapons of casting spears, axes and daggers. The ceremonies began with another procession of horses in trapped finery and pages wearing their gold embroidered garments. The King forbade fighting with spears, however, saying that he ‘would not have no such mischievous weapons used before [him]’. In the combat with axes, Anthony, Lord Scales struck the first blow and rapidly gained the advantage:
But when the king saw that the Lord Scales had advantage of the Bastard, as the point of his axe in the visor of his enemy’s helmet, and
by force thereof was likely to have borne him over, the King in haste cried to such as had the rule of the field that they should depart them and for more speed of the same, cast down a warder which he then held in his hand. And so were they departed to the honour of the Lord Scales for both days.11
The Chester Herald adds that no more than three or four strokes were exchanged before the King ‘with high voice cried Whoo!’
Edward IV clearly did not want his political overtures to Burgundy ruined by an English victory over Burgundy’s champion. The combatants were brought before the King:
He commanded each to take other by the hands and to love together as brothers in arm; which they did. And there they immediately gave each to other as courteous goodly and friendly language as could be thought and went together into the middle of the field and so departed each man to his lodging.12
Jousting between lesser knights continued for three more days, with the English continuing to win the honours. Meanwhile, the King settled down to the more serious business of strengthening England’s ties with Burgundy. Following the second day’s combat, Edward IV and Elizabeth hosted a banquet at the Mercer’s Guildhall which suitably impressed Olivier de la Marche: ‘I assure you that I saw sixty or four-score ladies, of such noble houses that the least was the daughter of a baron. And the supper was great and plentiful; and Monsieur the Bastard and his people feasted greatly and honourably.’
Edward may have chosen the Mercer’s Company as the site of the celebration because of its extensive cloth trade with Burgundy. Their foreign agent, William Caxton, had been a pivotal figure for the past thirty years in negotiating contracts between merchants, and would soon become even more important as Edward sought more personal connections between the two courts. The King’s supper served its purpose in winning the Bastard’s goodwill, and he reciprocated in kind: ‘Monsieur the Bastard prayed the ladies to dine on Sunday, and especially the Queen and her sisters; and he made a great rout and a great preparation.’
All festivities abruptly ended, however, when word arrived that the Duke of Burgundy had died on 15 June. The Bastard immediately departed for home to support his brother Charles, the new Duke of Burgundy. The groundwork laid by Edward in hosting the tournament between Anthony, Lord Scales and the Bastard of Burgundy would soon begin to pay off. In late 1465 or early 1466, Charles, while still Count of Charolais, had proposed a marriage between himself and Margaret of York, the nineteen-year-old sister of Edward IV. The marriage had been delayed in part because Margaret had been promised, if not betrothed, to Don Pedro of Portugal, but now that Charles was the Duke of Burgundy, marriage to him became quite desirable.
Not everyone agreed. Warwick, Edward’s powerful cousin, preferred an alliance with France, an alliance he had first tried to arrange through the marriage of Edward IV to Lady Bona of Savoy. When Edward chose Elizabeth Wydeville instead, Warwick experienced his first public humiliation at the hands of the King. Warwick had not given up, however, and even as the tournament between Anthony and the Bastard of Burgundy proceeded, he was in France discussing economic treaties with Louis XI. Gifts lavished on the English ambassadors and marriages plotted to strengthen the Anglo-French alliance persuaded Warwick that he was the centre of power.
Edward, who clearly preferred the Burgundian alliance, knew that he had to diminish Warwick’s personal and political influence. While the Earl was in France, George Neville, Archbishop of York and Chancellor of England, represented Warwick and the family interests. On 8 June, just three days before the tournament began, Edward, with his brother Clarence and eleven other men, rode to George Neville’s residence at Charing Cross and demanded that the Chancellor surrender the Great Seal of England. The personal presence of the King during this encounter was extraordinary. Moreover, Edward IV stayed until the Seal was delivered, emphasising his presence and authority. Making that point even more emphatic, the next day Edward concluded a treaty with Brittany, another traditional antagonist of France, promising English assistance in case of enemy attack.
Edward was clearly aligning England with Burgundy and Brittany against France, a point that the tournament between Anthony, Lord Scales and the Bastard of Burgundy symbolically demonstrated to the entire nation. For the first time, Edward was strong enough to challenge the power of the Nevilles: he had stabilised the economy, brought peace to the nation, and cultivated powerful supporters to counteract the wealth and popularity of his powerful Yorkist cousins. Prominent among his supporters were the Wydeville family members.
Indeed, the Wydevilles were becoming as central to the Yorkist court as they had been to that of Henry VI. Elizabeth’s father, Lord Rivers, was appointed Treasurer of England on 4 March 1466, and created Earl Rivers on 24 May of that year. On 24 August 1467, his appointment as Constable of England provided an annual income of £200, plus ‘all other accustomed profits’. At his death, the office would revert to his son, Anthony, Lord Scales, for life. Following the tournament, Anthony’s stature and prestige could not have been higher in both popular and courtly circles. Combined with Jacquetta’s connections to the Burgundian court, the Wydevilles were now significant players in helping Edward develop commercial and political ties between England and Burgundy.
Curiously, David MacGibbon, one of Elizabeth’s biographers, slanders the Queen in blaming her for what was happening: ‘Like la Pompadour after her, Elizabeth made her influence felt even in the foreign policy of the time, and it would appear that more credit should be given to her for the Burgundian Alliance and all that it entailed than has hitherto been the case.’13 ‘La Pompadour’, a rhetorical slur Elizabeth does not deserve, ignores the political and economic context in which Edward made his decisions.
The London merchants definitely preferred the Burgundian alliance, which they hoped would lift trade barriers against English cloth. Further, the nation as a whole retained a residual distrust, if not hatred, of the French after 100 years of war. Proof that Edward ignored Elizabeth’s desires when he wished lies in his appointment of Hastings, instead of Anthony, to become Captain of Calais, a position that Anthony desired. The King also sought and followed advice from his council in ways that J.R. Lander shows has been ‘unduly underestimated’.14
Perhaps most importantly, Edward IV knew that Warwick’s influence had to be thwarted. Warwick took credit for placing Edward on the throne, even though the Earl’s disastrous defeat at the second battle of St Albans almost lost the entire war. It was Edward’s victory at Mortimer’s Cross, his march to London and declaration as King, and his heroism at Towton that gained the upper hand for York. The Earl’s overweening ego, however, could not tolerate a position secondary to his young cousin.
Edward IV recognised Warwick’s preference for France and took actions during the Parliament and tournament of 1467 to thwart it and to establish the King’s personal authority. Edward had sent Warwick to France to discuss the marriage of Margaret of York to Philip of Bresse. Whether he timed the trip to remove Warwick from London while the Burgundians were in town is unclear. That was, however, the result. In France, Warwick and his entourage of 300 men received a munificent welcome from Louis XI. His negotiations were so successful that Louis offered to cover all costs of Margaret’s wedding, including her dowry, and to award Edward IV a pension.15 Louis also gave Warwick presents fit for a king: a gold cup encrusted with gems, and the keys to the city of Honfleur. Such magnificent honours from a King encouraged Warwick to think that he himself should be one.
When Warwick returned on 24 June puffed up with preference and presents, he expected to be quite the man of the hour in London. Instead, he found his brother dismissed as Chancellor, the marriage of Margaret to Charles of Burgundy almost a certainty, and Anthony Wydeville, Lord Scales, the nation’s champion knight. Just as George Neville’s removal as Chancellor was a very public power play, so was the King’s humiliating treatment of Earl Warwick. Twice now in his French negotiations for royal brides, Warwick had been pre-empted – and he blamed the Wyde
villes.
Nearing the age of forty, the Earl saw himself being replaced by a younger generation. Attractive, cultured, erudite men – and even worse, women – were winning their positions through merit, rather than birth. The older man, so proud of his royal blood, could not tolerate such political and personal insults from those whom he regarded as upstarts. The Warwick-Wydeville antagonism thus leapt another giant step towards its inevitable clash. Temporarily outmanoeuvred, Warwick retreated to his Middleham estates in the north, where his resentment festered into revenge. It was only a matter of time before Earl Warwick would renew the Cousins’ Wars.
CHAPTER TEN
Enemies Within
Soon after the tournament, the Queen retired to Windsor to await the birth of the second royal heir. Her mother, the Duchess of Bedford, joined her on 16 July, and the second princess, Mary, was born at Westminster on 12 August 1467. On 9 October 1468, the King granted Elizabeth £400 a year to support their two daughters, Elizabeth and Mary, who lived at the Palace of Sheen under the governance of Margaret, Lady Berners.1 Elizabeth’s royal duties included visits throughout the realm, where the citizens welcomed her warmly. Over the years, the city of Coventry, in particular, developed a special relationship with the Queen, one that began in December 1467 when the Mayor and citizens greeted her visit with a gift of 100 marks.2
Elizabeth’s brother, Anthony, Lord Scales, now became one of the King’s most trusted and successful ambassadors. When Edward IV appointed a team of negotiators to finalise the marriage contract between Margaret and the Duke of Burgundy, it was headed by Anthony, Lord Scales, and included the Bishop of Salisbury, Lord Hastings and several mercantile representatives. This new embassy set off in September 1467 to complete the complicated business deal, which included issues of defence, trade, currency exchange, fishing rights and travel. The bargaining moved rapidly enough for Edward to announce the marriage to his council at Kingstonupon-Thames on 1 October.
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