The Markham Chantry Chapel at St Mary Magdalene Church, Newark contains an exterior panel depicting the ‘dance of death’. Essentially the skeleton – pointing at a grave and holding a carnation which symbolises the shortness of life – is reminding people that life is short and they should repent of their sins. The young man with the purse is a reminder that death comes for everyone – no matter how full their pockets. It was a popular theme after the Black Death of 1348. It’s thought that this particular example dates from early in the sixteenth century.
It’s a rare survival as it was clearly not something that Protestant England approved – verging as it does upon the perception of Catholic superstition. During the seventeenth century William Dowsing visited approximately 250 churches in East Anglia merrily destroying anything that smacked of anything even remotely superstitious. Some artefacts were hidden, others protected by layers of whitewash, originally designed to destroy them. There is no indication why the Markham Chantry Dance of Death survived Nottinghamshire’s purge.
The chantry chapel itself dates to 1505. The idea was that priests said masses everyday for the repose of the souls of the men and women the chantry chapel was dedicated to and who, in this case, were buried beneath the chapel. Essentially, Robert Markham made financial arrangements in the form of a financial endowment so that money was paid to the church for the priests to say mass for his and his wife, Elizabeth’s, salvation. Often chantry chapels were dedicated to specific saints – a favourite of the donor. The dance of death would not only remind visitors to the church to mend their own ways but also to pray on behalf of Robert and Elizabeth Markham.
Now I like a good bridge. I was only half joking the other day when I said I wanted a picture of Coggeshall’s bridge. Some of the bricks in it date from the twelfth century – now I know there are lots of Roman bricks kicking around but you’ll have to admit that it’s quite impressive. So to is the Swarkstone Bridge that snakes across the Trent Valley and marks the furthest south that Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Jacobite army of 1745 managed to reach.
Today though I found a new bridge at Wansford near Peterborough. It lies on the old Great North Road, five miles south of Stamford. The road, a coaching route, using the Roman Ermine and Dere streets runs from London to Edinburgh. In 1929 it was replaced with a new road which became the A1.
The bridge at Wansford crosses the Nene. It’s likely that there has been one on or near this spot since Saxon times. In medieval times repairing the bridge would get you remission from your sins. Various sources identify the current twelve arch structure as dating from 1577 to 1600 or in other words before the Spanish Armada sailed and while Elizabeth I sat upon the throne. William Cecil crossed the bridge on his way home to Stamford. Further work was completed in 1795 to ease navigation problems and to repair flood damage.
What amazes me though is that this was the Great North Road and the bridge has always been a single track carriageway – the holdups must have been impressive on occasion. And before I forget – Celia Fiennes paid Wansford a visit and stayed at the Swan as the Haycock Coaching Inn was formerly known in 1698:
There was no gate to Peterborough town and as I passed ye Road I saw upon ye walls of ye ordinary peoples houses and walls of their out houses, ye Cow dung plaister’d up to drie in Cakes which they use for fireing, it’s a very offensive fewell, but ye Country people use Little Else in these parts. Wansford is five mile from Peterborough, where I passed over the Bridge which Entered me into Northamptonshire, the town being part in that Shire which is towards London, ye other in Lincolnshire which a mile or two farther joyns with Rutlandshire at Stamford, which town stand in ye 3 Countyes, where I lay at “ye Swan in Wansford in England,” being a jest on a man making haye fell asleep on a heap of it, and a great storm washed ye hay and man into ye River and Carry’d him to ye Bridge, where he awoke and knew not where he was, Called to ye people in ye grounds and told them he lived in a place Called Wansford in England which goes for a jest on ye men of Wansford to this Day.
It’s probably not surprising to discover that Daniel Defoe also stopped here but more eyebrow raising is the note on the Haycock Manor website that Mary Queen of Scots was lodged there on her way to Fotheringhay Castle.
The image on the left depicts Lady Anne Clifford, aged 15, with pictures of her governess Mrs Anne Taylor, or Taylour, and her tutor, the poet, Samuel Daniel. She studied Ovid, Chaucer and Cervantes Don Quixote. The latter was published in two parts in 1605 and 1615.
The middle picture portrays George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland as well as Anne’s mother, Lady Margaret Russell and Anne’s two short lived older brothers, Francis and Robert, who died before they were breeched- hence the long dresses. The four images on the wall behind depict George’s sisters, Lady Frances Clifford, Baroness Wharton and Lady Margaret Clifford, Countess of Derby. In addition there are images of Lady Anne Russell, Countess of Warwick and Lady Elizabeth Russell, Countess of Bath.
The final image, on the right hand side, portrays Lady Anne Clifford, aged 56-years, and images of her two husbands – the earls of Dorset and Pembroke.
Baroness Wharton was married to Philip Wharton – named after his godfather who just so happened to be Philip II of Spain. He was born in 1555. He narrowly avoided bankruptcy when he entertained James I. Frances died in 1592.
I’ve blogged about the Countess of Derby previously. Lady Anne Clifford’s grandfather, Henry Clifford, 2nd Earl of Cumberland was married to Lady Eleanor Brandon, the daughter of Henry VIII’s sister Mary, prior to his union with Anne Dacre, who was Lady Anne Clifford’s grandmother. It meant that Anne’s aunt had a claim to the throne. Prior to the death of Edward VI, the Duke of Northumberland attempted to arrange a marriage for Margaret Clifford that would bolster his position but in the event she was married following the accession of Mary I to the 4th Earl of Derby – Henry Stanley. In 1579 she was arrested for seeking a prediction regarding Elizabeth I’s death. Predicting the death of a monarch let alone plotting to kill one was a serious crime. The countess’s doctor was executed and she lived under house arrest. She died in 1596, never having been returned to royal favour.
The Countess of Bath was the second wife of William Bourchier, 3rd Earl of Bath. The marriage was about power in Devon. At the time the Earl of Bedford, who was Elizabeth, Anne and Margaret’s father was the county’s Lord Lieutenant as well as an important landholder in the region. She died in March 1604/1605 (depending on which calendar you’re using).
I’ve encountered Mary Sidney on several occasions in the past few years. She was the sister of Sir Philip Sidney, their mother was born Mary Dudley, the sister of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. Mary, the wife of Sir Henry Sidney, was one of Queen Elizabeth I’s favourite ladies. Sir Henry who was raised alongside Prince Edward, his father being the prince’s chamberlain and his mother the prince’s governess. It’s easy to see how the pair were married to one another – the Sidneys were already close to Edward VI and Dudley, who later became the Duke of Northumberland, wanted to ensure their support.
Henry and May had seven children. Mary was the fifth child, born in 1561. Her eldest sister, Margaret, died while she was still a toddler in 1558. Elizabeth died when Mary was just six, while Ambrosia who was only a year older than Mary died in 1575. Mary’s youngest brother, Thomas, also died at a young age.
All of them were raised at Penshurst in Kent, at Ludlow Castle in Wales and Ticknell Palace near Bewdley. They also travelled to Dublin. It was while they were there that Elizabeth died. When Mary was three, her 10-year-old brother, Philip, was sent to Shrewsbury School where he remained for the next four years before continuing his education at Oxford University. Having finished his studies there, Philip was granted a licence to travel for two years in order to improve his knowledge of foreign language.
For Mary education, of the humanist kind enjoyed by Elizabeth I, meant a proficiency in French and Italian. She was also taught Latin, music and needlework. They were essential skills for a young woman who might find herself in Elizabeth’s court.
By the time Philip returned home in 1575, following Ambrosia’s death, Mary and her mother were residing at Elizabeth’s court. It was an opportunity for her to acquire court polish and for her parents to make her a good match. The good offices of the queen and of the Earl of Leicester gave the Sidneys an advantage in securing a union with the Herbert family in 1577. It was another factor in making a daughter’s education arrangements. It was essential that a young woman should meet the expectations of the family into which she might marry. Manners and conduct were consequently an important part of education. Girls were expected to be respectful and modest.
After her marriage to Henry Herbert, 2nd Earl of Pembroke (becoming his third wife) who was more than two decades older than her, she was responsible for the good management of his estates as well as providing him with a family of four children. Much of her surviving writing is business correspondence. It’s a reminder that while women were regarded as having roles within the private rather than pubic sphere, that as representatives of their husbands, their influence could be wide ranging. Somehow, as well as entertaining the queen, running a household and managing her husband’s estates, she managed to find time to have a chemistry laboratory at Wilton House where she developed medicines and invisible ink.
More important, she created the Wilton Circle of poets that included the likes of Edmund Spenser and Ben Johnson. She would receive more dedications than any other woman of non royal status. And she wrote her own work -unusual in publishing under her own name- but avoiding criticism by focusing on religion, translations, elegies and works of praise. It helped that her that she was the sister of Sir Philip Sidney. Her story of patronage began after his death when she encouraged authors to publish works written in his praise. It seems that she wrote throughout her life thereafter but most of what exists today dates from the 1590s. it is likely that much of what she wrote has been lost to history. There was a fire at Wilton during the seventeenth century and also at Baynard’s Castle which was another of her homes.
In short, Mary Sidney is a perfect example of the paradox that many early modern women became. On one hand they were expected to be obedient wives, interested in the domestic and the religious but on the other they were business women, patrons of the arts and like Mary, on occasion, able to demonstrate their intellect and achieve remarkable things.
In 1507 John Sackville married Margaret Boleyn of Blicking Hall. Their son Richard did rather well from the dissolution of the monasteries having a role in the Court of Augmentations. And since Margaret was Anne Boleyn’s aunt, it is perhaps not surprising that Elizabeth I, who valued her Boleyn kin, should give preferment to family after she ascended to the throne. Richard’s son, Thomas, was something of a favourite with Elizabeth and it was she who promoted the family to the peerage and granted them Knole. It was at about the same time that the Sackvilles, who’d arrived in England with the Conqueror, began to use a coat of arms supported by two snow leopards or ounces.
In 1604, Thomas was created Earl of Dorset but it was the reign of George I, in 1720, before the family attained its dukedom. The new earl rebuilt Knole, making sure to place his heraldic emblem in prominent positions in stone, wood and glass. His descendant, the duke, who added to the building, did the same. The screen in the Great Hall was carved by William Portington, Elizabeth I’s carpenter, Unsurprisingly it is topped by the Sackville coat of arms and, of course, the snow leopards.
The Sackvilles were using their heraldry to demonstrate their status – they were after all descended from someone who arrived with William the Conqueror – but the leopard has a hint of royalty about it…. and who doesn’t want to hint at that, especially if they’re building what was once described as the largest private residence in the country. Buildings associated with the family will often have an ounce on display somewhere, the almshouses in East Grinstead for example, as a code to remind people of its association with the Sackvilles.
The Lord Leycester, a medieval range of buildings, sits on Warwick’s Westgate, a hop and a skip from the castle. iIs chapel is above the narrow gateway. The chapel was originally built by one of the Norman earls of Warwick on the site of an earlier Saxon one. It was rebuilt in 1383 by the 12th Earl of Warwick – one of the Lords Appellant who opposed Richard II. When Thomas Beauchamp met with the usual fate of men who opposed kings, the chapel was gifted to the Guild of St George. By the 15th century the chapel and the associated site belonged to the amalgamated guilds of Warwick – the Holy Trinity Guild and the Guild of the Blessed Virgin and St George. The United Guilds created a large complex of buildings. The current guildhall was built by Richard Neville a.k.a. The Kingmaker.
Once the Reformation began many guilds lost their lands but in Warwick the guild master passed ownership of the property, and associated rental as far afield as Gloucester and Lancaster to the town’s corporation which meant that the income continued to be used for the benefit of Warwick rather than the king. At one point it even served as Warwick’s grammar school. In 1571, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester established a hospital – somewhere to live- for disabled and infirm soldiers at the request of Queen Elizabeth I. The corporation gave Dudley the guildhall because who wants to irritate Elizabeth Tudor or her favourite. Dudley was keen to please the queen and it raised his credentials as a pious man. The earl ensured that an act of Parliament was passed for the foundation of his hospital – the only private act he ever secured (Howard, p.149) and sent his surveyor, William Spicer to oversee work.
The hospital, which was independent of the town because of its associated with Leicester, accommodated a master, twelve soldiers and their families. It retains its role as an almshouse today but has offered a home to eight retired servicemen since the 1960s rather than the original twelve. When the hospital was first created there was a common kitchen for use by the twelve brethren rather than individual hearths. When Elizabeth I visited Warwick in 1572, the Master of the Hospital was on hand to present her with some verse in Latin to mark the occasion. It was the summer that the Earl of Leicester presented the queen with lavish entertainments as well as matching portraits in a bid to win her hand. The Princely Pleasures at nearby Kenilworth lasted for three weeks.
Meanwhile, the guildhall was used to entertain James I in 1617 and was fortunate to escape the blaze that incinerated much of Warwick in 1694. The courtyard was renovated by the Victorians who added the ornamental gables, plaster bears and Robert Dudley’s crest. The porcupine is the Sidney family crest. Ultimately, it was Dudley’s sister, Mary, who inherited the hospital. Initially the countess of Leicester, Lettice Knollys, claimed some of the estates belonging to the hospital as her dower and withheld the income which belonged to the hospital. (Howard, pp.150-151). It took another Act of Parliament and the support of William Cecil to ensure that the terms of Leicester’s will in the matter of the hospital were honoured.
Howard, Maurice. The Building of Elizabethan and Jacobean England. (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2007)
The Lord Leycester Hospital guidebook
The Lord Leycester Hospital. An Account of the Hospital of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leycester in Warwick (Warwick: HT Cooke and Sons, 1870).
I seem to be drawn to the bear and ragged staff. Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester gained his earldom when Elizabeth I proposed that he marry her cousin Mary, Queen of Scots in 1564 – it might have been a method of ensuring that Dudley had a title that made him a worthy candidate for a royal match, or it might simply have been a way for Bess to make Robert an earl, knowing that Mary wouldn’t be keen on the idea of marrying a second-hand favourite. Little did I realise that two books on I would find myself writing about Anne Beauchamp and her daughters. And the link between the two groups?
Robert Dudley was descended from Margaret Beauchamp, the eldest of the three half-sisters of Anne Beauchamp, Countess of Warwick (The Kingmaker’s wife and mother to Anne Neville).
Robert’s grandfather, Edmund Dudley, the hated tax collector of Henry VII was married to Elizabeth Grey who was Margaret Beauchamp’s great granddaughter. Margaret married to John Talbot who became the 1st Earl of Shrewsbury . Robert Dudley and his brother Ambrose were both exceptionally proud of their descent from the Beauchamp Earls of Warwick and the Talbot Earls of Shrewsbury. Robert Dudley adopted the bear and ragged staff device of Warwick’s earls and acquired Kenilworth Castle while brother Ambrose was given the earldom of Warwick.
For more on the Kingmaker’s women – check out the Pen and Sword blog for Women’s history month.
Where did January go? In my case, it was spent typing manically to hit my deadline -I did it – just. So, where next? Opus Anglicanum – or the English embroidered tradition is where Zoom classes will be heading. Hopefully by the end of next week I shall have sorted some dates out. And do not fear, this will not be a class focusing on stitching techniques. It will be about luxury, commerce, power and politics. There will be wool merchants, the Silk Road, popes, kings and a mermaid.
For now though, I’d like you to meet Sir Hugh Jonys or Jones. This chap needs a book! I found out about him because Johnys tutored Henry Tudor, in the art of warfare while he was under the guardianship of the Herberts. Unfortunately I couldn’t include everything I found out about him in the ext – so here he is now. Sir Hugh’s career began as a soldier of fortune before he eventually served in the army against the French. He rose to the rank of deputy marshal in the service of John Mowbray, Duke of York. He was also well versed in the rules of chivalry. In 1453, he even took part in a trial held by the Court of Chivalry, in a case of treason. The court, a military tribunal, was not part of England’s system of common law. Its judges were the constable of England and the earl Marshal and its remit was to judge cases relating to deeds of war including disputes about ransoms and the use of coats of arms. Robert Norris was accused of treason. It’s unclear exactly what Robert Norris said or did to be accused of treason on 11 May by John Lyalton. However, it was decided that Norris would answer the charge on 25 June at Smithfield in a trial by combat. Johnys was one of the seven-man panel assigned to advise the defendant. He was described as ‘an established martial reputation’[1] and was undoubtedly an excellent choice to be William Herbert’s weapon’s master. His kinship to Herbert through the Vaughan family[2] may have been another reason he was selected for the task of training Herbert’s sons and wards.
The splendid memorial brass of Johnys and his second wife, Maud, at St Mary’s Church, Swansea depicts him in a cuirass and mail skirt reaching to his knees. It records that Sir Hugh went on pilgrimage to Jerusalem where he became a member of the confraternity, or lay guild, of the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre and that he fought against the Turks for five years following the date that he entered the knighthood on 14 August 1441. Arrangements for admission into the knighthood lay in the hands of the Holy Sepulchre’s Franciscan friars who were entrusted with Christian custody of the Holy Land and the tomb of Christ following the fall of the Kingdom of Jerusalem in 1291 to the Mameluk Sultanate. On his arrival in Jerusalem, Johnys was deemed worthy of the honour of knighthood by the friars, or at least made them a generous donation.
Prior to travelling to the Holy Land, Johnys served John VIII, Emperor of Constantinople, joining his forces, possibly as a mercenary, in 1436. An additional incentive for men who wished to defend Christian Constantinople was the issuing of papal indulgences, which pardoned earlier sins, which in turn would mean that men like Johnys believed that they would spend less time in purgatory, before gaining entry to heaven, after they died. Johnys service is known to have taken him to Troy, Greece and Turkey where he fought at sea as well as on land, although it is impossible to pinpoint exactly which battles he took part in.
When he returned to Europe, Johns served under, Lady Margaret Beaufort’s father, John Beaufort, Duke of Somerset in France as the duke’s knight marshal. From 1446, he transferred his service to Richard of York. On his return to England, he served as a deputy to the Duke of Norfolk who was the Marshal of England. It served Norfolk’s purposes to have someone he could trust in the Gower region of South Wales with oversight of his lands there. Johnys proved to be as capable an administrator as he was a soldier. In 1452, he was appointed steward to the manors of Redwick and Magor in Monmouthshire by Henry VI. The king made the grant because of Johns’ military service in France and his career as a Knight of the Holy Sepulchre. The Byzantine emperor wrote personally to Henry commending Sir Hugh to him. By the time that the duke died in 1461, Johnys was part of the regional gentry fulfilling essential administrative roles on behalf of his patron.
Johns first wife, Mary, died at some time during the early 1450s. He sought a second wife with the aid of his patrons Richard Duke of York and Richard Neville, 3rd Earl of Warwick. During his first protectorate, the duke wrote in support of his knight’s desire to marry, commenting on Johny’s ‘gentillesse’.[3] Despite the recommendation, the woman Johnys wanted to marry declined his proposal. The letters held by the British Museum are undated but gave rise, due to a small transcription error, to the belief that Johnys sought Elizabeth Woodville’s hand in marriage whereas, in reality, he wished to wed a twice-widowed, and consequentially, wealthy woman named Elizabeth Woodhill. In about 1455, the knight married Maud Cradock, the daughter of another landowning family in the Gower.
On 15 1468, Sir Hugh became one of poor knights of Windsor, who were part of the college of St George’s Chapel. It is likely that Maud, who was co-incidentally a cousin of Matthew Cradock who served in the household of Prince Arthur at Ludlow, was dead by that time. The poor knights were a group of men in receipt of alms, totalling 40s each year and care during their old age. In return, Windsor’s ordinances stipulated that they were expected to attend chapel three times a day for which they received a daily payment of 12d. Knights who did not attend services forfeited their 12d which was shared among the knights who were present. By the time Hugh became a poor knight the college had arrived at a situation that rather than the twenty-six military men envisioned by Edward III there were never more than three knights in residence at any one time. This arose from the necessity of ensuring that there were sufficient funds to go around. There was also a rule that stipulated that no poor knight should have an income of more than £20 per annum. Johnys was anything but poor since he was still in receipt of the incomes granted to him by the Duke of Norfolk and King Henry VI. He certainly had sufficient funds to purchase a tenement on Fisher Street in Swansea on 19 March 1460. Hugh’s affluence was ignored. He took the place of Thomas Grey who died in Spetember 1468[4] and is listed as being residence from 1 January 1469 to September 1480.[5]
Records show that Johnys did not attend all of the required services. It may reasonably be assumed that his absences reflect trips to the Gower supervising his lands during the summer months, at harvest and when rents fell due at Michaelmas, as well as fulfilling his other commitments[6] in Wales. He spent the winter months at Windsor fulfilling his obligations to the chapel. In 1483 parliament absolved the dean and chapter of the need to support the knights. It gave occasion to Henry VII remembering his old weapons master at Raglan. On 15 October 14 155 Johnys was compensated with a grant of £10 for the loss of his position as a poor knight ‘in consideration of the good service that Sir Hugh John, knyght, did unto us in our tender age’ [7] Johns did not have long left to enjoy life. His name does not appear after the end of 1485.
Of Johnys seven children, two daughters are known to have married into the Gower’s gentry while a son, Robert Jones, became constable of Llantrisant Castle, keeper of Clun Park and of Barry Island from December 1485 until his death in 1532. He served in the household of King Henry VII as a groom of the king’s chamber and was one of the ushers at Henry’s funeral in 1509. He went on to serve King Henry VIII and present at the marriage of Mary Tudor to King Louis XII.[8]
[7] Robinson, ‘Sir Hugh Johnys: A Fifteenth-Century Welsh Knight’, p. 31. Ibid., pp.25-6; Materials for a History of the Reign of Henry VII, I, p. 581.
One of the things I really enjoyed about last year was finding out more about the flowers on the #unstitched coif and, in the process, learning a bit more about the woman who intended to sew it. I also enjoyed the topic I covered during lockdown on the history of plants – et voila – another new ‘spot’ for the blog – reading the past – I’m no good with the emoticons and emoji’s of modern technology. This is much more my thing.
The image of a carved passionflower, or passiflora, is taken from a Victorian headstone in a local churchyard and just happens to be the firth thing I found when I started scrolling through my photos.
Welcome to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. It’s the age of exploration and some Jesuits are wandering around modern Paraguay and Peru. The conquistador, Pedro Cieza de Leon mentions the plant in writing for the first time in 1553 in the context of its fruit. The Christian symbolism associated with the five wounds of Christ that could be identified within the flower was described soon after: 10 petals for the number of disciples who were still loyal at the time of the crucifixion; filaments representing the crown of throne; five anthers for the wounds of Christ; the stamen looking a bit like the hammer that drove the nails; even the tendrils were described as being like the whips with which Christ was beaten. And bingo! A valuable teaching aid and a flowery justification for invading and Christianising the Americas. The plant was there, so obviously God wanted a bunch of conquistadors terrorising the locals in his or her name.
The story spread and in 1609, Giacomo Bosia, one of the knights of Malta, included the passionflower in a book about legends and miracles associated with the cross. Three years later passionflowers were being cultivated in Paris and England. It was originally called the Virginian Climber in Britain as no one wanted to mention the Catholic connection. However, after Charles I had his head removed in 1649, the late monarch was sometimes described by his supporters as ‘the passionflower’ because they believed he had been martyred. The Tradescants who were royal gardeners and plant collectors made it very popular -for a price- after the Restoration.
By the Victorian period it was a popular adornment for gravestones representing as it did Christ’s crucifixion, redemption and mankind’s salvation. The jesuit element of the equation and even Charles I had been discarded, or never even had the chance to get going. To be honest I don’t recall seeing it on Stuart or later embroideries, no point looking at the Elizabethans – and of course the expansion of trade changed English attitudes to embroidery and ornament as indeed did the Commonwealth. England had a rich embroidered tradition prior to the English Civil War. By 1661 the royalists who’d spent their exiles in the Low Countries and France thought that European art was much more sophisticated than anything home grown. And, by the eighteenth century beautiful fabrics were arriving from China and the Indias – no more sitting around embroidering your bed curtains and night hats!
I think I’ve seen a passionflower on an alta-frontal but that was Victorian as well. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a seventeenth century version in embroidered form. Stumpwork and crewel work were popular during that century. Please let me know if you spot any old needlework productions of the passionflower on your travels! A photograph (assuming its permitted would be even nicer).
Bleichmar, Daniela, Visual Voyages: Images of Latin American Nature from Columbus to Darwin (Yale: Yale University Press, 2017) pp.82-89
Croft Castle church is older than it looks. Historians think that the church as first built in about 1300. In the seventeenth century the clock tower was added and the interior provided with box pews. All well and good. I failed to photograph the sun in splendour on the stained glass window, representing an association with the House of York, and although I noted the medieval floor tiles I didn’t photograph them either. I was sidetracked! I nearly didn’t photograph the fortified house (ok I know that later architects have romanticised the whole concoction)
Sir Richard Croft died on 29 July 1509 and is depicted in effigy form with his wife Eleanor, the widow of Sir Hugh Mortimer. Eleanor ran the royal household of Edward, Prince of Wales a.k.a one of ‘The Princes in the Tower’ while he was at Ludlow learning how to be a king. Croft was Henry VII’s treasurer, fought at Mortimer’s Cross (Yorkist), Towton (Yorkist) , Tewkesbury (Yorkist) and Stoke (Tudor). The Pastor Letters record that plain Richard Croft was knighted in the aftermath of Tewkesbury. He also became High Sheriff of Herefordshire, as did his son.
Sir Richard inherited Croft Castle when he was just 14-years of age in 1445. He and his younger brother were tutored with Edward Earl of March and Edmund Earl of Rutland. History knows this because in 1454 a letter was sent to Richard of York complaining about their behaviour. He owed loyalty to his powerful Mortimer neighbours. He was their steward but rose under the Yorkists before transferring allegiance to Henry VII who made him Prince Arthur’s steward at Ludlow making him a key official educating the prince (p.528 -Anthony Emery, Great Medieval Houses of England and Wales volume 2).
Sir Richard was very much part of the “famous and very Knightly family of the Crofts”, as William Camden called them in his Britannia. Somehow, a member of the minor gentry became a key player serving as a royal official for Kings Edward IV, Richard III, and Henry VII. Sir Richard was one of the nobles who wished for the young King Edward V to be crowned at once to avoid the need for a protectorate. Rumours of their murder spread throughout court. Believing the boys’ deaths to have been ordered by their uncle, Sir Richard Croft, an astute player of court politics, remained a royal official to Richard III while secretly offering his support to Henry Tudor’s cause it would appear although Breverton records that Croft was in exile with Henry Tudor and played an important part in his coronation.
And you’ll love this (not a lot) Richard Croft had a brother who was younger than him also called Richard! Richard the Younger was born in 1437 and died in 1502. Little brother was one of Edward Prince of Wales’ tutors at Ludlow. The Younger Richard fought for Henry at Bosworth as did Richard the Younger’s illegitimate son Thomas who was appointed a ranger at Woodstock but got himself into a spot of bother over a murder in the marches.
The Crofts did not get on well with the Stanley family. The latter were rather too acquisitive of land and the Crofts weren’t keen on losing territory to their neighbours.
I love the happy looking Croft lion laying at Sir Richard’s feet but most historians are fascinated with the boar on the wonderfully carved tomb. The hog actually belongs to St Anthony, one of the saints decorating the niches behind Sir Richard’s head, but its impossible to escape the thought of Richard III with his white boar…and then there’s that sun in splendour.
And because I can…Sir Richard Croft was the great grandfather of Henry VIII’s mistress Bess Blount making him the 2x great grandfather of Bessie and Henry’s son, Henry FitzRoy.
