by Paul Doherty
At first sight Berkeley Castle seemed a poor choice to confine the deposed King, a short distance from the Welsh border, where Edward still had considerable sympathy as well as some political and military support. On the other hand, Berkeley, even today, is a fairly lonely spot: a secure castle, surrounded by woods, it was also near Mortimer’s power base on the Welsh March and well away from public view. A northern fortress would be vulnerable to attack by Bruce or Edward’s Scottish supporters like Donald of Mar. The London mob were too fickle to be trusted and the Tower would be far from ideal. Berkeley Castle was, in fact, perfect and both Maltravers and Lord Berkeley were given extensive powers in the area, being made Commissioners of the Peace for almost all of south-west England. This made them military supremos in the area and were to summon up military help, raise levies and pursue malefactors.27
The transfer of responsibility for Edward from Lancaster to Berkeley and Maltravers was done properly. When the prisoner was collected from Kenilworth an indenture, a solemn agreement, was drawn up, Lancaster, like Pilate, washed his hands of Edward, and Berkeley and Maltravers travelled south with their prisoner.28 He was escorted by a powerfully armed troop and careful measures were taken to create diversions so that people would be uncertain as to the King’s real whereabouts.
Berkeley and Maltravers were commissioned to take over the custody of Edward on 21 March. On 3 April 1327, it was agreed they be given £5 a day for the prisoner’s needs.29 Historians have concluded that the transfer actually took place on the 3 April and Edward completed the fifty-mile journey from Kenilworth to Berkeley and was in his new prison cell by 6 April at the latest. Berkeley and Maltravers, together with another knight, Thomas Gurney (who was to play a prominent part in the deposed King’s treatment), secured the deposed King in the last week of March and then took him, by a very circuitous route, to Berkeley. They visited Corfe Castle, then Bristol. On the night of 5 April, Palm Sunday, the royal prisoner reached Gloucester and spent the night at Llantony Abbey near Hay-on-Wye, the guest of the Augustinian canons. The following day, hoping they had fooled the Dunheved gang, Berkeley and Maltravers deposited their prisoner at Berkeley Castle.30
However, there are reasons to question this evidence. Adam of Murimouth, a Canon of St Paul’s, who wrote his history some time around 1335, says that Edward was taken to Berkeley but then removed to other places because of conspiracies to free him.
And because they were afraid of certain persons coming to him to effect his release, Edward was secretly removed from Berkeley by night and taken to Corfe and other secret places but, at last, they took him back to Berkeley but after such a fashion that it could hardly be ascertained where he was.31
Accordingly, there are three versions of events. First, that Edward was moved swiftly from Kenilworth to Berkeley. Secondly, Edward was moved from Kenilworth to Berkeley but removed secretly by night so as to distract his supporters; he was then taken to places such as Corfe Castle in Dorset (a stronghold of Maltravers) before being moved back to Berkeley. Thirdly, Edward was taken from Kenilworth by a circuitous route, including places like Corfe, to throw off pursuers, before being confined for life in Berkeley Castle. The third explanation seems most likely. Berkeley and Maltravers would hardly travel directly from Kenilworth to Berkeley Castle; they would do their level best to lay false trails and provoke suspicions about where the royal captive really was. Once they had Edward in the fastness of Berkeley Castle, they would surely be reluctant to take him out again around the southern shires where they would certainly be vulnerable to attack. This issue is an important one in that Edward II’s link with Corfe Castle was to play a vital part in the legends which later grew up around his imprisonment.
The forced journey of the King from Kenilworth to Berkeley marked a rapid decline in his fortunes. The chronicler Swynbroke claims that Edward was subjected to appalling abuse: his new captors crowned him with a crown of hay and shaved his head and beard by the roadside with ditch water; they clothed him in rags, forced him to ride through the night, forced him to eat food that was barely edible, and, mocked and reviled him. Historians have been quick to reject such allegations, and accuse the chronicler Swynbroke of sensationalizing events. However, Edward II was no longer a king but a deposed prince, fast becoming a public nuisance, and his execution had even been debated at a formal council meeting. Moreover, the hatred heaped upon de Spencer the Younger, the cruelties inflicted as he was led out to execution, illustrate the deep resentment of many against Edward’s former rule.32 In the history of deposed princes, it is remarkable how, once the fall from power has been completed, the minions of those who brought about the collapse, are only too quick to join in the fun of cruel mockery against one who once lorded it over them. The indignities, the rough shaving, the poor clothes, would also have been necessary to disguise the King. It is hardly likely that Edward would be allowed to ride openly through the countryside, even with a powerful escort, in a state in which former subjects might recognize him.
Edward was in his new prison by 6 April 1327 and the Berkeley records show that capons, eggs, meat and other foodstuffs were supplied to the King. Isabella also sent her husband certain delicacies.33 Such evidence appears to clash with Swynbroke’s story that Isabella was really intent on killing Edward by contagion. However, five pounds for his upkeep, the Berkeley estates producing fresh food for the King and Isabella sending delicacies to him, are perhaps not evidence enough to reject the allegations of ill-treatment. Swynbroke maintains that the carcasses of rotting animals were placed in the deep pit near the King’s cell in Berkeley keep in the hope that he would catch some infection and die. The stories could well be true. After all, at Wallingford, Isabella and Mortimer seriously considered executing Edward; their treatment of his favourite had been cruel in the extreme, and Isabella and Mortimer had proved they could be as ruthless as de Spencer if they encountered opposition. Moreover, Edward not only suffered physical indignities, but the psychological torture must also have been great. Here was a man who, a year previously, had been lord of his kingdom, to whom everyone bowed at the knee and to whom everyone deferred. Within a matter of weeks, he had lost everything – his crown, his kingdom, his wife, his family and now his freedom.
Edward may well have cursed his wife and threatened to kill her – even with his teeth – but he was also the father of their four children: Edward of fifteen years, John of Eltham, eleven, Eleanor, eight and Johanna only six years old. There is no record of the King being allowed to see any of his children during his incarceration. In fact, no real evidence exists that Edward was not ill-treated. The sums of money, the supplies, the delicacies may well have gone to others. In the final analysis, it was in Isabella’s and Mortimer’s interests that Edward should not survive long. He was a danger to them politically and, as the council at Stamford proved, there was a growing concern, especially amongst the bishops, that Isabella should honour her marriage vows and return to her husband.
The Queen had every confidence that Berkeley Castle would take care of her problem husband. The fortress stood in the wilds of Gloucestershire countryside, close to the Severn Estuary, on a natural shelf of red sandstone, surrounded by fresh and salt water marshes of about 200 acres in extent, and standing at an altitude of sixty-three feet. The castle had a good view of the surrounding countryside and was strategically placed to guard the main Bristol to Gloucester road. The castle itself would be difficult to attack. Assailants would have to cross the treacherous marshes, ford the moat and scale the curtain walls. Even if they were successful in seizing the gatehouse and the outer rim of defences, defenders could fall back to the Keep and continue their fight. Isabella and Mortimer would have also ensured that Berkeley Castle was well manned, not just by local levies but household troops, veterans who would be able to guard the prisoner and put up a stout resistance against any attack.
Isabella and Mortimer confidently regarded the deposed King as a minor problem and, like Edward II and De Spencer before them,
began to marshal their troops for yet another military expedition across the Scottish border. English defeats in Scotland had characterized Edward II’s reign: his débâcles there had been a contributing factor to his fall from power. Isabella and Mortimer knew that to gain public approbation they would have to settle the Scottish problem – and the auguries were good. In the main the kingdom was now united: the great lords were willing to participate and Mortimer was an experienced general, who had won considerable success against Bruce’s brother in Ireland. If the Scots could be checked once and for all, then Mortimer’s ascendancy would be confirmed. Military preparations began, assembly points were chosen and writs despatched. However, on 3 July 1327, Thomas Berkeley was excused from the general muster ‘being charged with the special business of the King’. This ‘special business’ entailed dealing with the irrepressible Dunheved gang. They had discovered where Edward was incarcerated and were mustering their forces for another attempt to free the deposed King.34
The Dunheved gang included a monk from Hailes Abbey, a canon from the Augustinian order, as well as the usual rifflers, eager for easy plunder. They had stirred up a riot in Cirencester, disappeared and then turned up in Chester. The gang was highly mobile, organized and well resourced. The government continued to issue writs against them but were careful not to reveal their real purpose, saying simply that the members of the gang were to be arrested for evading military duty in Scotland.35
But the Dunheveds laid their plans well. Berkeley Castle was heavily fortified but King’s Wood, Michael Wood, Berkeley Heath, and the wild heathland of Berkeley Vale, provided natural cover for this roaming band of outlaws. At first Isabella and Mortimer dismissed them as mere gadflies. They would have been armed with long bows, arrows, swords and shields, but they would need siege equipment to penetrate such a closely guarded castle. Security at Berkeley would have been very tight; entrance only being allowed by a special pass. However, the Dunheveds were successful. A letter, published by the historian Tanquerery, dated some time in July 1327, informed Isabella and Mortimer that the Dunheveds had not only attacked and plundered Berkeley Castle but had even managed to get the King out of his cell. The writer of the letter was a high-ranking clerk, John Walwayn, who had been despatched to Berkeley to investigate the raid. Walwayn doesn’t just say the castle was attacked, but actually plundered, and the royal prisoner ‘taken from our care’ – a remarkable feat for a gang of ruffians and a few rebel priests.36
In the Middle Ages a castle could either be taken by storm or by means of treachery. A possible explanation in this case is that Lord Thomas Berkeley, although concerned about his prisoner, was also anxious to carry through major repairs after the castle had been ransacked only a year earlier by the de Spencers and their forces. The Berkeley records prove this building work was going on. One chronicle relates how carpenters actually saw the King and heard his cries and groans of desperation.37 This also would confirm the view that the King was not being well treated. Rumours of possible torture would have spurred the Dunheveds to act quickly. They would have most likely used craftsmen involved in this building work, or one of the priests in their gang to secure their surreptitious entrance to the castle. Once this had been obtained, it would be easy to open a postern gate and let in the main body of attackers. The assault was probably launched at night. Guards and sentries were quickly despatched of, the place ransacked and Edward II freed. The letter from Berkeley specifically says, ‘D’avoir ravi’, namely, they ‘actually seized’ the King from his prison, and escaped from the castle. The hunt then began to bring these malefactors to justice. But what of the deposed King? The accepted story is that he was quickly recaptured and taken back to Berkeley.
On 1 August 1327, special powers were given to Thomas Berkeley to hunt down the gang and bring them to trial – but this commission makes no reference to Edward being on the run.38 By 20 August, one of the gang, William Aylmer, had been arrested at Oxford. We can assume the king had been recaptured because Isabella told the sheriff there that Aylmer was ‘to be indicted for trying to free Edward of Caernarvon’. She then added a surprising postscript: ‘That Aylmer was to be released on bail, pending a personal appearance before the King on the 7th October.’39 Instead of fleeing, Aylmer actually turned up in court, only to have all evidence against him quashed and his innocence established.40 The other outlaws were not as fortunate. They were all tracked down, apart from Stephen Dunheved, who managed for a while to evade his would-be captors, but his brother, Thomas disappeared into Newgate where he died from gaol fever.41
Aylmer’s arrest and the fate of Thomas Dunheved are quite remarkable. The evidence suggests Aylmer was deeply involved in the plot to free Edward. Seven months earlier, during the first week of March 1327, William Aylmer, parson of the church of Doddington, had been specifically named as a leading member of the Dunheved gang. He had tried to free the King from Kenilworth in the early spring and he definitely took part in the attack on Berkeley Castle. It is remarkable that clemency was shown to such a dangerous man: in 1326–7 he had been publicly named as one of de Spencer’s leading clerks and, two years earlier, he had been on a commission sent into Wales to try adherents of Mortimer. Isabella and Mortimer should therefore have been delighted to have such a rebel promptly hanged. 42
As for other members of the gang, Thomas Dunheved, so rumour had it, was brought immediately before the Queen, then thrown into Newgate prison. Thomas was a Dominican friar and should have been given the benefit due to clergy; and the same courtesy extended to other members of his gang, who were also tonsured clerics. Isabella totally ignored the law and, apart from Aylmer and Stephen Dunheved, the rest of the gang appear to have disappeared off the face of the earth. A possible solution is that Aylmer turned King’s evidence and, in return for his freedom, betrayed the rest of the gang to government agents. On a later occasion, in 1329–30 a certain Gregory Foriz was prosecuted for murder before King’s Bench. The case was run of the mill, except for two significant features. First, Henry of Lancaster intervened as a guarantor of Foriz and, secondly, William Aylmer was also named as an associate of Foriz,43 establishing a connection between a magnate, fast emerging as the leading opponent to Mortimer and Isabella, and the band of outlaws. This connection between Lancaster, Foriz and Aylmer suggests that the Dunheved attack had not been some mad escapade by a group of wild adherents sheltering in the forests of Michael Wood or the waste lands of Berkeley Heath. It also accounts for their success both during the attack and afterwards, when making their escape. Such a gang would need arming: bows, arrows, swords, hauberks, supplies, money and, above all, fast horses; they would need guarantees that they could be hidden in certain places and a blind eye turned to their passing. Nor was Dunheved’s attack simply a one-off. In his letter from Berkeley, the royal clerk Walwayn spoke about other crises, begging the government for greater powers and saying: ‘I understand, from a number of sources, that a great number of gentlemen in the county of Buckingham and in adjoining counties, have assembled for the same cause’, namely, the freeing of the deposed King. So it would appear that the conspiracy to free Edward stretched right across the Cotswolds, with more than one group feverishly plotting to attack Berkeley and free the King.44
Walwayn’s letter tantalizes in its vagueness about what actually happened to the royal prisoner. This, in turn, begs other questions. If Berkeley had proved to be unsafe, why not transfer the King elsewhere? Yet this did not occur and Edward of Caernarvon was returned to his old prison. His gaolers were not reproved and apparently continued as his keepers. Some historians maintain Edward was moved between several castles but there is agreement that, by the beginning of September, he was definitely back at Berkeley.
Isabella, meanwhile, had not only to answer to other members of the royal council for her husband’s fate but also to her Welsh lover. In September 1327, according to the accepted story, matters were brought to a head. Another plot was hatched to free Edward, but this time it wasn’t a roaming ban
d of outlaws but a number of Welsh gentry, loyal to the old King, and very eager to weaken Mortimer’s power in Wales.
On 4 September, Roger Mortimer was commissioned to resume his duties as Justice of Wales and, on the 8th, empowered to arrest all those breaking the peace in Wales.45 He kept a close eye on government. In the fourteenth century, one of the ways the monarch indicated who was in favour was by asking them to witness charters issued under the Great Seal. Mortimer had been with the court at Doncaster where he witnessed a charter on 26 August. After that date, this Welsh lord, whose name is rarely absent from the list of charter witnesses, did not act in this capacity again until 4 October 1327 at Nottingham.46 Apparently, the situation along the Welsh March had become so serious that Mortimer was obliged to tear himself away from the Queen and return to Wales to deal with the problems there, to ensure that Edward remained captive.
This crisis did not become apparent until several years later when in April 1331, William Shalford, Mortimer’s lieutenant in Wales during 1327, was accused by Howel Ap Griffith of being party to Edward II’s death.47 The case was referred to King’s Bench where it was quashed due to Griffith’s non-appearance. Griffith’s testimony is still extant, published by T. F. Tout in his article, ‘The Captivity and Death of Edward II’. It reads as follows:
Howel Ap Griffith appeals William Shalford and others of his Council, of encompassing the death of Edward, father of our Lord the King whom God protects, who was feloniously and traitorously slain by murder. Namely, that on the Monday after the feast of the birth of Our Lady, September 14th 1327, at Rhosfair in Anglesey, that same William sent a letter to Lord Roger Mortimer at Abergavenny. In this letter he maintains that Rhys Ap Griffith and others of his coven had assembled their power in South Wales and in North Wales, with the agreement of certain great lords of England, in order to forcibly deliver the said Lord Edward, father of our Lord the King, who was then detained in a castle at Berkeley. And he also made clear in that letter that, if the Lord Edward was freed, that the said Lord Roger Mortimer and all his people would die a terrible death and would be utterly destroyed. On account of which the said William Shalford, like the traitor he is, in that same letter counselled the said Roger that he ordain such a remedy in such a way that no one in England or Wales would ever think of effecting such deliverance. The said Lord Roger Mortimer showed that letter to William Ockle [In the manuscripts he is called William Docleye]. And commanded him to take the said letter of William Shalford to Berkeley and to show it to those who were guarding the said Edward. And Mortimer charged him to tell them to take counsel on the points contained in the letter and to quickly remedy the situation in order to avoid great peril. The said William Ockle took charge and carried out the orders of the said Roger. On account of which the said William Ockle and others, who were guarding the Lord Edward, traitorously killed and murdered him . . .
