Sunday, 5 March 2023

Sharing beds

 


The financial accounts of Robert Burnell, de facto regent of England from 1270-1274, survive almost in their entirety. These are revealing, and show the problems and difficulties experienced by a land without a king. 

For instance, the turbulent state of the Welsh March is shown by a payment of £100 to the constable of Montgomery Castle, at a time when the borderlands were sliding into outright chaos (again). Burnell also paid out £270 for a large quantity of grain sent to Gascony when there were fears of a French invasion - 'quando timebatur de adventu Regis Francie ad partas illas cum exercitu'. 

Another 200 marks went to Thomas de Clare, younger brother of Gilbert de Clare and Edward I's bedmate, sent to Gascony when rumours of French invasion were still circulating. Burnell then paid 250 marks for the expenses of John de le Lynde, sent to the French court in Paris and then Rome, presumably to try and calm things down. 

Thomas de Clare had the same relationship with Edward as Richard I and Philip Augustus. In this era, to share a bed with another man was a sign of royal trust and favour, nothing more. That said, if anyone wishes to redefine Longshanks as a gay icon, please, have at it. Just let me get the popcorn.


Friday, 3 March 2023




Between 1270-74 England was engulfed by a rising tide of lawlessness. This was triggered by Lord Edward's absence on crusade, the lingering resentments of the Montfortian wars, and the incapacity of central government. 

One of those entrusted with guarding the kingdom was Edward's uncle Richard, Earl of Cornwall. Richard was competent and immensely rich, able to bring the authority of his royal status, wealth and prestige. In October 1270, for instance, he appointed a new sheriff of Lincolnshire and granted the castle and county of Carlisle to the bishop of that diocese. A few months later, March 1271, Richard took charge of suppressing a mysterious rebellion in Yorkshire; he gave orders for the arrest of 'all persons making congregations, conventicles and conspiracies against the peace' in that county. This was just one of the 'wars and rumours of wars' that were erupting all over England. 

Then, a piece of appalling news reached London. Richard's son, Henry of Almaine, had been murdered at the church of Viterbo in Italy. While attending Mass at the Chiesa di San Silvestro, he was attacked by Simon de Montfort junior and his brother Guy. When Henry clung to the altar, begging for mercy, they cut his fingers off and dragged him outside. There, in full public view, they cut out his eyes and testicles and finally hacked off his head. 

This, Simon declared, was in revenge for the bloody death of his father at Evesham in 1265. Since Henry was not even present at Evesham, let alone culpable, Simon's defence was preposterous. In any case, blasphemy and homicide were just that, regardless of motive. 

The murder had a destabilising effect on England, as it was supposed to. Richard never recovered from his son's death: in December 1271 he suffered a near-fatal stroke that left him paralysed down one side and unable to speak. After lingering for a few months, he died at Berkhampstead on 2 April 1272. Meanwhile England slid further into chaos.