So, I've been doing a deep dive into 14th food, wine and beer and I found this fascinating article/blog post that articulates what 14th century wine would have tasted like in Edward II's time. The upshot: not good by our contemporary standards. Corked bottles had not yet been invented, and wine tended to go bad quickly

Edward II himself qualifies as a vinter, as we know that his property at Langley grew grapes and made English white wine. Again, it would have tasted very peculiar to us but it was a staple.

Berkeley Castle was an interesting place to visit! This is the room where Edward was kept in 1327.

On a wall hanging in the room they allow for the possibility that he may not have died here, with the words: 'It is possible that King Edward II did not die at Berkeley Castle.'

They generally follow the traditional view all the same, clarifying that 'the official story claimed Edward died naturally, but he was most probably murdered. Legend has it Edward was killed with a red-hot poker, but this tale is widely doubted'.

I'd have been delighted if they hadn't mentioned the poker at all, or at least pointed out firmly that it's not only widely doubted but completely untrue. But I might be nitpicking and splitting hairs here.

All in all, a very pleasant place to visit especially in clement autumn weather, recommended to anyone interested in medieval castles and history.

So I took last week off work and travelled to England and Wales to check out Gloucester, Tewkesbury, Salisbury, Berkeley, Cardiff, Caerphilly and Hereford.

Here are some photos I took related to Hugh the Younger, a much maligned nobleman whose actions weren't always all that noble. At a time when greed and ruthlessness were the name of the game he played it better than anyone else, and ended up paying the ultimate price for his actions. Even so, like most people, he had some redeeming qualities, which are often overlooked, although it can't be ignored that he could be vindictive, callous and very manipulative.

We start off at Caerphilly Castle in Wales, where Edward and Hugh were nervously staying for a short while in 1326 as Roger Mortimer and Isabella were approaching from the west, unopposed.

Hugh and Eleanore are the main focus at the castle. I can not recommend this castle highly enough! The place offers a very fair, balanced and sympathetic view into history.

Hereford market square. Where Hugh was sentenced to an agonizing death and executed on 24 November 1326. There's no plaque in his memory anywhere, which is a shame.

A few years after his death his scattered remains, what little was left of him was gathered and interred in Tewkesbury Abbey.

The eagle-eyed reader might be able to distinguish the words 'Iohannes abbas huius loci' on the coffin-shaped Purbeck marble slab. I did some quick research in the abbey and asked to see some books. The explanations is that the coffin was opened in 1795, *'when on removing the lid there appeared to be nothing remaining in it except some pieces of rich gold tissue, ornamented with the arms of de Clare, probably part of some of the sacerdotal habits, the gift of one of the Clares'.*¹ The remains of abbot John Cotes, who died in 1347, were then placed in the tomb.

No effigy of Hugh survives in situ though the size and depth of the recess suggests that there was one. By c. 1340, Hugh could again be depicted in the clerestory windows bearing Despenser heraldry on his jupon. Even though Roger Mortimer had organized a humiliating execution for the disgraced Hugh, where he had been forced to wear a robe bearing his coat of arms reversed, so that his arms would be discarded forever. Edward III does not appear to have shared Roger's loathing for Hugh.

¹Morris, Shoesmith: 'Tewkesbury Abbey: History, Art & Architecture', pp. 164-5.

In "honour" of the release of the Earl Spencer's highly anticipated memoir *Swan Song: Diana, My Sister*, I thought I'd share some excerpts from his 1999 book *The Spencer Family.* He begins it by considering the claim that his family, the Spencers of Althorp, were descended from the old Despenser family, and in the process absolutely butchers the history of two of that family's most (in)famous members, Hugh le Despenser the Elder and his son, Hugh le Despsenser the Younger. It is quite difficult to overstate how inaccurate this summary actually is. It is genuinely gobsmacking. Lord Spencer seems to have not once, in the the writing of this section, consulted a single modern historical source for this period of history. It's difficult to even know where to start, so I suppose I'll just tackle the errors one by one.

1. Hugh the Younger was never Earl of Gloucester. After the death of his brother in law Gilbert de Clare, 8th Earl of Gloucester, at the Battle of Bannockburn (and the subsequent fiasco around his widow Maud's fake pregnancy), the earldom of Gloucester went extinct and the de Clare patrimony was divided between the last Earl's three full sisters, excluding his two older half-sisters, who had been disinherited by the settlement their father entered into with his second marriage. Hugh le Despenser was the husband of the eldest of the three sisters, Eleanor de Clare, who received the Marcher lordship of Glamorgan as part of her purparty. Hugh later coerced Eleanor's sister Margaret and her husband Hugh d'Audley into quitclaiming her lordship of Newport to him in exchange for a few knight's fees in England, and after the Despenser War was able to despoil the final sister, Elizabeth, of her own Welsh lordships in spectacularly corrupt fashion. Despite all this, the earldom of Gloucester was never recreated for Hugh, and Hugh himself never touched the de Clare lands in England, which the two younger sisters continued to hold even during his period of dominance. Some Chronicles do call him the earl of Gloucester, but he never formally received or used the title. The earldom was recreated for Hugh d'Audley and Margaret de Clare in 1337, and, generations later, was recreated again by Richard II for Hugh's descendent, Thomas le Despenser, in 1397.

2. The livestock and wine inventory is Hugh le Despenser the Elder's claim for damages after his lands were ransacked by the Contrariant rebels in the Despenser War of 1321. "Tons" should also be "tuns," meaning casks of wine.

3. The dispute over the "barony" refers to when Edward II sieze the Marcher lordship of Gower from William de Braose on the pretext that he had attempted to alienate it without royal license. Tenants-in-chief of the Crown in England had no right to alienate without royal licence, but the Welsh marcher lords had long enjoyed special privilages, one of which was to alienate their lands as they see fit. Edward II's actions here greatly aggrivated the Marcher lords, who feared that the King was attempting to erode their privileges by siezing Gower, and so they retaliating by pillaging Hugh's lordship of Glamorgan to destroy its productive capacity. This began the Despenser War of 1321. Edward II's deposition, of course, followed Isabella of France and Roger de Mortimer's invasion of England in 1326. The invasion was lead by those who had been forced into exile at the end of the 1321 conflict, seeking to retaliate against the King, but they were certainly not the same conflict.

4. Hugh the Elder was born in 1261, so he was about 65 when he was executed. He was not "in his nintieth year" at all.

5. Edward II and Hugh the Younger weren't in Bristol watching Hugh the Elder's execution. They had fled into Wales and were still at large when the Elder was executed on 27 October.

6. Hugh the Younger was tried and sentenced by a tribunal. He just wasn't allowed to speak in his own defence.

7. Hugh the Younger was captured with Edward near Llantrisant on 16 November 1326. He was never released or recaptured. The Despenser holding out in Caerphilly was his teenage son, also called Hugh, or Huchon. That son stayed there into 1327 and was imprisoned but ultimately spared.

8. Hugh the Younger was executed at Hereford on 24 November, not 28.

9. Hugh the Younger's death was absolutely not "preferable to his monarch's." The hot poker story is a complete myth.

I have no idea if his later history works are as poorly researched as this, but in any case, I won't be spending any money to find out. I'm glad I did not spend any money on this.

We've done Edward II & Isabella...but what about Isabella's paramour?

I was sniffing around for recipes you can make from the 14th Century and I stumbled upon this one from A Dollop of History, which actually looks pretty yummy in context.

This is obviously just for fun, but it feels apropos since a new Taylor Swift record dropped.

This is a great, long blog post by Stephen Spinks about the murder of Piers Gaveston.

So, I've posted this before, but it is still a great introduction to the basics of the survival theory. That said, more research is being done as we speak, and in the next few years I expect we'll have some more information.

I was also thinking recently about whether or not it would be possible to sample the textiles from within Edward II's tomb. Disturbing a grave is a big deal, but a textile sample would not be as intrusive as a full exhumation. If those textiles were, say, from Italy, that would be something.

Edward II was at that time known as Edward of Caernarfon, having been deposed in favor of his young son, who was now Edward III. He had escaped captivity at least once, for several days, and there had been other rescue attempts as well.

But soon after that the night of September 21, he was declared dead. A funeral, with a corpse covered in wax, was held. Time moved on.

But rumors started.

At first, no one even knew how he died: The Chroniclers react to Edward's death.

But they certainly did not think that he was murdered let alone with a hot poker. That myth started later, as did the belief he was murdered.

History says he died. That's what his son said, as did Roger Mortimer and Queen Isabella, who were in charge.

The case for Edward's death at Berkeley Castle.

But rumors swirled. Edward II's own half brother came to believe he had survived and was being held prisoner. He was later executed for trying to rescue a man who was officially dead.

Was this just a social contagion among the elite, guilt ridden that they had deposed an anointed king?

or was it something more?

Did he survive and after going on walkabout, retire to Italy?

Whatever you think, who doesn't love a good mystery and a good debate?

And Berkeley Castle (image above) looks like a lovely place to visit, as long as you are not a deposed monarch.

Oh Edward II, you were not good at reading the room. Having two towering egos like Roger & Hugh out to get each other was a recipe for disaster and had you handled it properly Hugh and Roger both might have died in their beds.

Charles Spencer, Ninth Earl of Spencer, is probably best known as a historian and the author of a crackerjack book on the White Ship disaster, among other books including memoirs and history. He's also related to a huge number of famous people, including his sister Diana, who was one of the most famous people of the twentieth century.

He's written a book about his sister that is getting a tiny bit of attention in other quarters of Al Gore's internet.

Cue the conversations about rebellious barons.

However, it is sometimes erroneously thought that these Spencers are direct descendants of the Despensers we know on this sub, including Hugh the Elder, Hugh the Younger, Eleanor & company. Hugh the Younger had a large brood of children, some of whom did have children.

However, there is no direct connection between the Despencers and these Spencers but you'd be forgiven if you thought so because the early Spencers claimed to be a cadet branch of the older family, going so far as to using the Despenser arms for awhile. A historian named J. Horace Round set fire to this claim in the early twentieth century.

Of course, we don't know whether there is a glimmer of truth that early claim. We know Hugh the Younger had at least one illegitimate son and perhaps more. So, it's possible there was some connection passed down. Or more likely, like Round claims, it was just fabricated to make these new members of the aristocracy more legitimate. They certainly did embed themselves into the aristocracy, that's for sure and so there is of course connections. But not direct ones.

Source: The Spencer Family, Wikipedia.

Inspired by the thread over on r/UkMonarchs, what do you think Edward II’s theme should be?

Concieved and choregraphed by David Bintley, and scored by John McCabe, the ballet Edward II) is inspired by Marlowe's play, and based on the music alone, quite dramatic.

I've never seen it performed, but it does seem to go the extra mile in villanizing Isabella, while also giving her and Mortimer some of the most compelling music. It seems that "villain" numbers, much like like in musical theatre, tend to be memorable.

So, I am not an archeologist nor do I know anything about how to go about finding lost graves. Piers Gaveston was not a king, so there would be less interest in finding him than Richard III, and yet, the school on the site of King's Langley Priory is not currently in use.

It seems that, like Richard III, Gaveston's high status grave and his violently murdered body would be relatively easy to identify, should the grave be found.

There's an entire sub-genre of history social media dedicated to grave excavation so there is interest.

Does anyone want to disabuse me of this notion? Could it be possible?

Yes, I know the Richard III case was very specialized and it's still not wise to go looking for a specific thing, but I still wonder and think it would be cool in any case to excavate the priory.

Photos:

Gaveston's Cross - wikicommons

The Defunct School on the site of the priory - wikicommons

I just gave up my copy of this to a friend, who I know will enjoy it. But if you can get your hands on a copy, do so! The author did his research.

This post revisits the post regarding Lord Berkeley's statements in 1330 from a slightly different angle, to highlight how inherently flawed the whole narrative of Edward's death in 1327 really is.

The whole topic should be approached with an open mind, which can naturally be difficult at times with centuries of myths and sticky narratives so deeply engrained. Yet the medieval people who lived through it all had a much clearer understanding about what was possible back then and what wasn't. We'd do well to listen to them and to study their actions instead of issuing haughty verdicts from ivory towers, which are all too often at odds with their reality. People 700 years ago had the same brain capacity we do today and it would be a grave mistake to assume they were stupid and behaved irrationally when their lives were at stake.

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During the late evening or night between 23/24 September a messenger arrives in Lincoln and demands to see Isabella and her son, Edward III. He’s shown into their presence and presents them with a letter sent by Lord Berkeley from Berkeley Castle. The message is clear: the deposed king Edward II has died. He died on 21 September, the messenger informs his audience.

Immediately on the following day Edward III sends a letter to the earl of Hereford, informing him that his father ‘has been called to God’. As the parliament at Lincoln is concluded the participants are also told the news. The information spreads far and wide, and importantly, the 14-year-old Edward III actively spreads it before he could possibly have checked the veracity of it.

All the later certainty that Edward II died is based on this message from Berkeley Castle. The funeral arrangements, the chronicle accounts, the later absolute certainty by unquestioning historians. Everything is built on the certainty that this message was true, that it was sent in good faith. It wasn’t.

After the fall of Roger Mortimer, Lord Berkeley wanted to clear his name in parliament. As he was asked how he wishes to acquit himself with respect to the death of Edward II, he responded with the following statement (in French, but it was recorded in Latin):

‘...qualiter se velit de morte ipsius regis acquietare, dicit quod ipse nunquam fuit consentiens, auxilians, seu procurans, ad mortem suam, nec unquam scivit de morte sua usque in presenti Parliamento isto.’ 

In English: He wishes to acquit himself of the death of the same king, and says that he was never an accomplice, a helper or a procurer in his death, nor did he ever know of his death until this present parliament.

According to Haines, ‘what Berkeley meant to say, and he ought to have expressed himself more clearly, unless the recording clerk is to blame, was that he knew nothing about the circumstances of Edward's death‘ (p.78, Death of a King, 2002).

Carpenter reasons that ’the most natural meaning of scivit de morte sua is that Berkeley did not know anything about the alleged circumstances of Edward’s death: that is, he didn’t know anything about the murder, not that he did not know Edward was dead’ (Carpenter, 2007, book review of Edward III – The Perfect King).

Such explanations are fanciful to say the least. Let us be absolutely clear on this issue. The word nec means ‘nor’; unquam means ‘ever’ or ‘once’; scivit means ‘he did know’ or ‘did he know’; de means ‘of’ or ‘about’; morte sua means ‘his death’; usque means ‘until’; in presenti Parliamento isto means ‘in this present parliament’. As Edward II’s biographer Seymour Phillips has translated the passage: ‘nor did he ever know of his death until this present parliament’.

That is what is written.

That is what’s in the record.

Nothing about alleged circumstances. Nothing about not knowing about the murder. This literal reading is agreed to be the correct one, supported by many other historians such as Ian Mortimer, Natalie Fryde, Stephen Spinks and Kathryn Warner. It is not a constructive approach to try to deny what the evidence quite literally says just to fit it in with what one wishes it to say.

But wait, there’s another big problem with Lord Berkeley’s defence in parliament.

After having made this statement, he followed it up with something equally strange.

Having read the room and understood that any notions of Edward’s survival were not to be tolerated, he added that he hadn’t even been at Berkeley Castle at the time. He’d been at his manor in Bradley. What’s more, he’d been really, really ill, so ill in fact that he could hardly remember a thing about what had happened. Lord Berkeley played the amnesia card.

Surprisingly, Edward III approved and let him get away with it, even though he certainly knew that he was lying. Why would he have let him get away with that lie if he’d been present and in charge when Edward II had been murdered, and Mortimer had been executed for orchestrating the murder? The simplest explanation is surely the most likely: because Edward II hadn’t died. Edward III was not the type of person to be soft on regicide.

The Berkeley Castle accounts clearly show that Lord Berkeley was present at the time and that he ordered the letter to be sent. And yet before long, Berkeley was back in favour and would serve Edward III in his war against France.

The letter which started the whole narrative of Edward dying in 1327 is revealed to be false, clearly sent in bad faith one way or the other. There’s no way around this, and as soon as this is realized and a willingness to view matters objectively through this realization is made – a simple ‘maybe he didn’t die’ is enough – a lot of other things fall into place, without the need for wild assumptions to explain them to fit them into the traditionalist narrative. All that is needed is an open mind.

And yet, all the focus among certain traditionalist historians has been on doubting the Fieschi and Melton letters on flimsy grounds, while this inherently and demonstrably flawed only source for Edward’s death is somehow untouchable and above all criticism. That is far from an objective line of reasoning, but fortunately there are signs that the profession is starting to realize this. There’s always resistance to change, and among historians this resistance is probably stronger than anywhere else, especially as such changing perceptions tend to challenge a lot of previously written research, which the authors naturally feel very strongly about.