The Dukes

by Brian Masters

  Complete Peerage, VII, App. E and F..

  1 The Old Nobility

  Duke of Norfolk; Duke of Somerset

  From 1572 until the reign of James I there were no dukes in England. All the Dukes alive now derive their titles from creations well after this purge, except two, which descend from the violent years of pre-Elizabethan England. One survives from the Wars of the Roses - the dukedom of Norfolk, conferred upon the Howard family by Richard III in 1483, in suspicious circumstances which suggest at the very least connivance in the murder of the rightful heirs to the throne, the little princes in the Tower. The present Duke of Norfolk, 17th in line of descent from the alleged assassin, is therefore the Premier Duke and Earl in the peerage of England, with precedence over all other members of the nobility except the royal dukes. The second early dukedom survives from the Tudor period - the dukedom of Somerset, created in 1547 by the 1st Duke of Somerset and confer­red upon himself (in the name of the child King Edward VI, whose uncle, Lord Protector, and virtual ruler he was). The present Duke of Somerset is the 19th in line of descent from this man, Edward Seymour, who seized power in the kingdom on the death of Henry VIII.

  Together, they represent all that remains of the dukedoms existing when England was governed by gangsters, and when few of those who wielded power died a natural death. The titles of Norfolk and Somerset are owed to a bloody sword or to ruthlessness of a kind which we now only find in Sicily or New York. They were both dukes in the earliest sense of the word, leaders of men, military as well as political. Having risen to the summit of ambition and honours, they paid the price by sinking to the pit of disgrace, suffering numerous attainders under successive monarchs. It is a wonder either family survived at all. The 1st Duke of Norfolk died in battle, fighting alongside his friend Richard III; the 2nd Duke was three and a half years in the Tower of London, after being attainted by Henry VII's first parliament. He later rose once more to eminence; the 3rd Duke was found guilty of high treason, imprisoned in the Tower, and only escaped beheading by the timely death of Henry VIII; his son the Earl of Surrey (the famous poet) was imprisoned and beheaded; the 4th Duke of Norfolk, son to the Earl of Surrey, was imprisoned and beheaded for high treason in the reign of Elizabeth I; his son, Philip, Earl of Arundel, died in the Tower. And so on. As for the Seymours, Dukes of Somerset, the tale is similar. The 1st Duke was attainted, imprisoned, and beheaded; his great-grandson the 2nd Duke spent some time in the Tower. When his son, Lord Henry Seymour, was imprisoned there in 1651, the 2nd Duke commented, "I am very glad to hear that you have your health so well in the Tower. It seems it is a place entailed upon our family, for we have now held it five generations, yet to speak the truth I like not the place so well but that I could be very well contented the entail should be cut off."1

  There are yet other circumstances which suggest similarities in the Howard and Seymour histories. Both families provided wives to Henry VIII, and attained their greatest power as a result. Queen Catherine Howard and Queen Anne Boleyn were grand-daughters of the 2nd Duke of Norfolk and nieces to the 3rd Duke. Queen Jane Seymour was sister to the Duke of Somerset. Thus both families were united by blood to the Crown, the Seymours to Edward VI and the Howards to Elizabeth I. Furthermore, both families have been bedevilled by the most overweening pride. The Seymours engendered a duke of such absurd pomposity that he is known to history as "The Proud Duke"; this is the 6th Duke of Somerset (1662-1748) whose extravagant conduct we shall see later. The pride of the Howards has been consistent through the centuries. More than 400 years ago they already regarded themselves as the sole representatives of the old nobility, and looked upon the newly ennobled Seymours as upstarts. The poet Earl of Surrey (1517-1547) was beheaded for having tried too hard to prove the superiority of his ancestry to that of the parvenu Seymours.

  * * *

  The Howards had every reason to brag of their antiquity. Although John Howard was not created Duke of Norfolk until 1483, he was descended through his mother from the Dukes of Norfolk of an earlier creation, vested in the Mowbray family (who turn up in Shakespeare's history plays); there had been a Mowbray Duke of Norfolk since 1397, descended from Thomas of Brotherton, a son of King Edward I. So the Howard connection ascends, in one way or another, to the very dawn of English history, and they have rarely been in danger of over­looking the fact.

  The 1st Duke of Norfolk of the Howard line (1430-1485) was, as Sir John Howard, the son of a small landowner with ideas above his station who married the Mowbray heiress. There was still a Mowbray Duke of Norfolk at the time, and no reason to suppose that the title would not continue. But John Howard was nonetheless busy insinuating himself into the highest circles. The time was ripe for young men to advance themselves to the top if they happened to choose where to place their allegiance. John Howard was lucky. He chose the Yorkist side, became a close confidant of Edward IV, and, when he died, was the closest personal friend of his brother, Richard III. There is no doubt that John Howard and his son Thomas Howard were hand in glove with Richard both before and after his sordid machinations to occupy the throne of England. They were intimately acquainted with his plans; they may even have helped carry them out.

  The sequence of events is as follows. The last Duke of Norfolk of the Mowbray line died in 1475. His daughter Anne was married at the age of five to Edward IV's second son, the infant Duke of York, who was then created Duke of Norfolk himself. They would event­ually grow up, prosper, beget children, and continue the new line of Norfolks; they would also receive the Mowbray lands. If, however, Anne Mowbray were to die without heirs, the Mowbray lands would pass to two heirs by marriage, one of whom was John Howard.

  In 1481 Anne Mowbray died, aged eight. John Howard could still not inherit the Mowbray lands, however, because the little Duke of York and Norfolk was still alive. All changed when Anne's father-in-law, King Edward IV, died in 1483. In his rush to usurp the throne, Richard Duke of Gloucester was aided and abetted by the willing Howard, who stood to gain almost as much by the removal of the two princes as Richard did himself. First, the elder prince, the new King Edward V, was conveyed to the Tower on 19th May.2 The Constable of the Tower who received him was none other than John Howard. A month later, on 16th June, his brother, the little Duke of York, joined him. Again it was John Howard who persuaded the widowed Queen to hand over her second son into his (and Richard's) safe keeping.' Events moved quickly in the next few days. Hastings was eliminated with indecent speed, accused and executed, at Richard's behest, within a few hours; and it was Thomas Howard, John's son, who lured him into the trap which Richard had prepared.4 On 25th June Richard was urged to take the throne, which he did without delay, supported at the right hand of the Chair of State in Westminster Hall by John Howard. Three days later, on 28th June 1483, John Howard was made Duke of Norfolk and Earl Marshal of England, and his son Thomas was created Eari of Surrey. At Richard's coronation on 8th July it was John Howard who carried the crown and filled the office of High Steward, while his son Thomas carried the Sword of State.

  Those who deny the complicity of Richard III in the murder of the Princes in the Tower would do well to ponder this creation of the dukedom of Norfolk. If the princes were alive on 28th June, the creation could not have been made, as the younger prince, Duke of York, was also Duke of Norfolk. By elevating John Howard to this dignity, Richard tacitly admitted that the title was vacant and that the little prince was therefore dead. By this reckoning, the princes were murdered some time between 17th June and 28th June 1483.*

  That Richard III was ultimately responsible for their deaths cannot reasonably be denied; it was essential to his purposes that they should both be eliminated. What is more interesting to us is that the Duke of Norfolk and his son were privy to the plans. There is no cast- iron evidence that Norfolk killed the boys, or personally ordered their murder. But the circumstantial evidence which implicates him is weighty. As Constable of the Tower he had the keys, and could achieve access at any time, without superior authority.
As the intimate of Richard III over many years, and especially throughout these days in June 1483, it is inconceivable that he did not know what Richard was up to; indeed Richard relied on him to help realise his plans. As the envoy to the Queen, it was he who brought the little prince to the Tower. As heir to the Mowbray lands, he stood to gain more than anyone from the death of the boy. And he was rewarded for his fidelity by his elevation to the peerage so quickly that the corpses may not yet have been disposed of. The times were so violent that no man's life, be he ever so young, counted for much: power alone mattered. Richard III seized power with his henchmen John and Thomas Howard as wilful accomplices.

  Fittingly, they were deprived of their power in the same violent manner. Richard had sat on the throne for only two years when the country was invaded by Henry Tudor, whom he went to meet with his forces at Bosworth. The King died at the battle of Bosworth Field in 1485, and by his side perished his faithful servant, John Duke of Norfolk, pierced by an arrow. His son Thomas Howard (who there­

  * In fairness, it must be pointed out that many historians do not accept this line of argument. The Princes in the Tower had been declared bastards by an assembly of Lords and Commons who accepted that the marriage of their father Edward IV with Elizabeth Woodville was invalid under canon law. As bastards, they were automatically disinherited of titles or honours of any kind. Thus they were legally dead on 28 June 1483, though not necessarily physically dead, and the dukedom of Norfolk, held by young Richard of York, was vacant whether or not the boy was alive. This might be said to beg the question, for the dukedom of Norfolk had not been inherited by Richard of York, but was his by right of marriage to Anne Mowbray, the Norfolk heiress. Readers interested in pursuing the matter should consult P. M. Kendall, Richard III, Appendix I; Mancini's Usurpation of Richard III, ed. Armstrong; Jeremy Potter, The Trail of Blood. The author is indebted to Mr Jeremy Potter for these elucidations

  upon became 2nd Duke of Norfolk) survived the battle, but was taken prisoner by the invaders, and thrown into the Tower. The first Parliament of the new king, Henry VII, attainted Howard for High treason, confiscated his property (including the Mowbray lands), and deprived him of all titles and dignities. Technically, of course, he could not possibly be guilty of high treason, since Henry Tudor was neither de facto nor de jure King of England when Howard took arms against him, but this awkward point was side-stepped by making Henry's assumption of the crown retroactive by twenty-four hours, so that Howard's actions could be legally regarded as treasonable.5

  Howard, stripped of all honours and influence, languished in the Tower for three and a half years. He used his time to demonstrate that solid Howard adaptability upon which his re-emergence was to be founded. He refused all opportunity to escape (a real chance presented itself in June 1487)," declaring that he was loyal to the Crown, whoever was wearing it. Before the dust had settled from the Battle of Bosworth he had told Henry, speaking of the slain Richard, "He was my crowned King, and if the parliamentary authority of England set the crown upon a stock, I will fight for that stock. And as I fought then for him, I will fight for you, when you are established by the said authority."7 These are the words of a pragmatist and a wily politician. Firm loyalty to the Crown of England has been a quasi-religious duty of the Howards throughout the centuries, never more evident than today; it is certainly an attitude which allows of infinite flexibility. With the early Norfolks, it was simply a matter of survival; the Howards knew which side to butter their bread, and, like chameleons, they changed their colours according to whoever was in power. They may say that they were loyal to the Crown, not to the head beneath it, but they were far too canny really to believe such humbug. One of them, the 4th Duke (executed by Elizabeth I for having conspired with Mary Queen of Scots), backed the wrong horse and paid for it with his head. His protestations of loyalty to the Crown were then to no avail.

  The 2nd Duke (1443-1524) was now biding his time in the Tower of London. Henry VII did not forget his words after Bosworth, observed his passivity in prison, and discerned his pragmatism. The King correctly judged that, given the opportunity, Howard would most likely serve faithfully. He released him in January 1489, and carefully measured the amount of favour shown. A small carrot it was to restore him to the earldom of Surrey; but the dukedom remained vacant, and most of his lands forfeited. There had to be the possibility of future preferment conditional on Howard's obedience, so the largest prizes were reserved. Howard then showed of what mettle he was made. Having served Edward IV and Richard III, he now served their enemy Henry VII with identical devotion, rising to become Chief General of England. After twenty years he was given back the lands which had been forfeited, and his total rehabilitation was confirmed by his being an executor of Henry VII's will. Adapta­bility brought its rewards.

  Howard consolidated his position under Henry VIII, being the king's chief adviser and most influential member of the Privy Council. He was deeply resentful, however, of the influence wielded by Wolsey, who also had the ear of the King but did not, in Howard's view, deserve it. He was, after all, a commoner, a butcher's son. No amount of imprisonment, beheadings, attainders, would ever deflect a Howard from the opinion that his family was second to none in its nobility and ancestry, and by virtue of that inheritance, should take its place next to kings. Howard loathed Wolsey for mixing with the great, and secretly thought less of the King for deigning to confide in the upstart. It took very little to make the famous Howard pride bristle.

  The Howard pride attained its finest expression at the Battle of Flodden Field in 1513. Whether it was strategy or luck, or, as the people thought, the intervention of divine aid, Howard led his troops to an astounding victory. Though nearly seventy years old, and though his troops were parched and their stomachs empty, he inspired them with such zeal that they routed the Scots, who lost 10,000 men against the English loss of barely 400. Insufficient attention has been paid to the contribution made by the Howard arrogance, which though unwelcome in society, is one of the most desirable qualities in battle.

  Howard's reward was the restoration of his father's dukedom immediately after the battle in 1513. (There are some genealogical purists who claim that this was a new creation,8 and that the dukedom of Norfolk should date from this year, but since he was the second Duke of the Howard line, and since he would have inherited in 1485 anyway, it is much simpler to maintain the creation of the dukedom in 1483.) He had travelled full circle back into the royal favour.

  The old man was to show one more instance of pragmatism before his death. In 1521, aged nearly eighty, he was appointed Lord High Steward for the trial of Edward, Duke of Buckingham, on a charge of treason. Trials in the sixteenth century were mere formalities, of which the issue was decided beforehand. Buckingham was a personal friend of Norfolk, his daughter had married one of Norfolk's sons, and Norfolk was known to be in entire agreement with Buckingham's views. Yet Norfolk consented to preside at the trial of his friend, knowing full well that he would be required to pass a sentence of death. When the moment came there were tears streaming down his face.9 However, he recovered sufficiently from his distress to accept some of the manors forfeited from Buckingham.

  The 2nd Duke's most spectacular achievement was to lay the foundations of a family dynasty and to assure its continuance to the present day. Thirteen of his children survived, and all made astute marriages. His daughter Elizabeth was the mother of Anne Boleyn, Henry VIII's second wife; his son Edmund was the father of Catherine Howard, Henry's fifth wife; another grand-daughter married Henry's natural son, Henry Fitzroy; a daughter married into the family of de Vere, Earls of Oxford. The list is an impressive roll- call of sixteenth-century nobility, which spawned several distinct branches of Howards, many of which were ennobled. The Howard family holds or has held twenty-five different patents of creation to separate peerages, including the earldoms of Surrey, Suffolk, Northampton, Stafford and Carlisle. The Howards of Effingham, the Howards of Glossop, the Earls of Carlisle and of Su
ffolk, continue to the present day. In fact, the present Lord Howard of Glossop (also Lord Beaumont) inherited the dukedom of Norfolk in 1975. No family in the history of the country can boast such staying power or such success. The credit must go to the 2nd Duke of Norfolk, who, by skilful manipulation of his progeny, made certain that the name of Howard would not slide into oblivion.

  He was succeeded by his eldest son, 3rd Duke of Norfolk (1473-1554), who resembled him in many ways. An excellent soldier, he fought with his father against the Scots and was ruthless and brutal in battle. Also like his father, he showed that his chief aim in life was the advancement of himself and his family, to which end he would acquiesce in whatever designs the King his master might cherish. He rose to become Henry VIII's Lord Treasurer (and, incidentally, the subject of one of Holbein's greatest portraits), signed the letter which threatened the Pope with loss of papal supremacy in England if he would not grant the King's divorce, and on the subsequent dissolution of the monasteries received extra lands as rewards for his loyalty. He even went so far as to preside at the trial of his niece Anne Boleyn, the disgraced Queen, and to make arrange­ments for her execution on the block. He followed this extraordinary cold-bloodedness by proposing another niece, Catherine Howard, as wife to the King, and only when she in turn lost her head were Norfolk and his family disgraced. There are not many examples in history of pragmatism pursued to such lengths.

  Like his father, the 3rd Duke despised Wolsey for his low birth, revealing a depth of contempt which is only comprehensible in a dynastic family whose rightful place is undermined; "I will tear him with my teeth", he is reported to have said.10 Similarly, he had no time for the up-and-coming Seymours. He marked out Edward Seymour, now Earl of Hertford, as his prime enemy, a disastrous mistake which backfired when Catherine Howard was beheaded; for Jane Seymour proved a better wife for the King than had the Howards, and she was the mother of the heir to the throne, Prince Edward. Gleefully, the Seymours pursued the Howards to their second down­fall, and rose to eminence in their place.