Home
Library
Exhibit
Article Index
Leicester Tour
•15th-century map
• Modern map
Photos:
2007 AGM
• Bosworth Reenactment
• Middleham
• Sheriff Hutton
Richard
III Society
|
|
Richard
III and the Queen’s Brother
By Sandra Worth
(Printed in Ricardian Register Spring 2001--Copyright © Sandra
Worth,: used with permission)
Philosopher, poet, soldier, dreamer, and
Renaissance man ahead of his time, Anthony Woodville, Lord Scales and
later Earl Rivers, was no stranger to the vagaries of Fortune. Violent
turns of her capricious Wheel spun his world often during his life,
delivering fame and riches, blows and perils—and, finally, a
bloody end by the headsman’s axe. Alone in his cell on the
eve of
execution, he spent his last hours on earth penning a lament to the
fragility of good fortune and the vicissitudes of life.
The eldest male in a brood of thirteen offspring,
Anthony Woodville was born to Sir Richard Woodville of Grafton,
Northamptonshire, and Jacquetta, daughter of Pierre Count of St Pol of
Luxemburg. They met in France when Jacquetta’s husband, the
Duke
of Bedford, brother to Henry V, presided over the trial of Joan of Arc.
After her husband’s death, Jacquetta was escorted to England
by a
guard of English knights under the command of Sir Richard Woodville.
The stage was set for romance, but a simple knight was no match for a
royal widow, and instead of seeking the king’s permission,
the
lovers wed secretly in 1436. The first child born to them was a
daughter, Elizabeth, who would grow up to ensnare a king and propel the
family fortunes to blazing heights. Then came Anthony. The place of his
birth is unknown, but the date is thought to be 1442.
Alongside his father, Anthony Woodville fought for Henry VI at Towton
but later transferred his allegiance to York. Edward IV showed him
preferment in allowing him to marry Elizabeth, the heiress of Lord
Scales in 1462, and one can guess the reason: the King had become
enamored of Elizabeth Woodville and was actively pursuing her during
this period. After Elizabeth’s marriage to Edward, Anthony
advanced rapidly. Of Anthony’s family, the great
biographer, Paul Murray Kendall, paints a vivid portrait:
“Anthony Woodville’s father was a rapacious
adventurer; his
mother, so formidable and devious a woman that she was held to be a
witch. His brother Lionel was a type of their father in the gown of a
bishop. His sister the Queen—beautiful, suffering, brought
from
nowhere to the highest place and cast down again to misery and
friendless death—owned a destiny presenting the grand
outlines of
‘tragedie’ which disintegrates upon inspection
because it
was developed by a mean, stupid and cruel
character.”
Much is known about Anthony Woodville’s own
character, yet he remains something of an enigma in history. A complex
man notably different from his family, he eludes us by his
contradictions. As always, Kendall puts it best:
“Anthony, Earl Rivers, was the changeling of the Woodville
clan.
London was not farther from Ludlow than he from the world of his
kin.… Pilgrim and knight, worldling and ascetic, Anthony
Woodville was moved by the vision of both the Grail and the Good
Life.”
While Anthony suffered from Woodville pride and
vanity, his scholarly pursuits won him acclaim during his time and set
him apart from his brothers whose sole accomplishments consisted of
marrying well. He was the only one of his kin to earn a word of praise
from Dominic Mancini who called him “a kind, serious and just
man.” William Caxton, the burgher who imported the art of
printing to England, and to whom Anthony Woodville proved a very
generous patron, paid him heartfelt tribute in the epilogue he wrote
for the Earl’s second book, Cordyale, in which he records
this
prayer: “…whom I beseech Almighty God to keep and
maintain
in his virtuous and laudable acts and works…And after this
short, dangerous and transitory life, grant him life everlasting in
Heaven. Amen” In view of what Fortune held in store for
Anthony
Woodville, Caxton’s words acquire a prophetic ring.
Anthony Earl Rivers, was also a good soldier,
unlike three of his four brothers and his cowardly nephew the Marquess
of Dorset, the Queen’s eldest son who always managed to
absent
himself from battle. Yet he never won glory, and for a while
Edward even held him in contempt for seeking to leave on pilgrimage to
the Shrine of St. James of Compostella following the Lancastrian defeat
at Tewkesbury and the death of Henry VI.
Anthony’s refusal to back down in the face of
royal scorn provides some interesting insights into his character.
Obviously he was willful; a trait he inherited from his mother and
shared with his sister, Elizabeth. Far more revealing his ambition was
not boundless like that of the rest of his clan, and unlike them he had
a conscience, one which troubled him deeply at times. After all,
he’d once sworn fealty to Henry VI, and in battle he must
have
slain Lancastrians with whom he’d shared wine and friendship.
That spiritual redemption at this traumatic time in his life meant more
to him than worldly gain, speaks volumes about the man himself.
Even greed, the trait that forged so vital a part
of the Woodville metal was tempered in Anthony with sensitivity. In the
Cordyale Caxton particularly lauded Anthony Woodville for his ballads
against the Seven Deadly Sins, saying Rivers undertook the work as a
good deed. As Caxton explained, since Rivers understood the mutability
and instability of this life, desired spiritual salvation himself,
hated the “damnable sins” of Pride, Greed, etc., he
wished
to make the “readers and hearers” recognize
themselves and
amend their own living, lest they lose the chance to save their soul.
One cannot help wondering if Anthony had his kinfolk in mind as he
wrote the ballads for which Caxton said he should be
“commended
and singularly remembered with our good prayers.”
Though he enjoyed the trappings of wealth and was
drawn to the pleasures of the senses, Anthony Woodville’s
desire
for riches, like his desire for power, never matched that of his
mother, or father, or his sister the Queen, or his debauched nephew,
the Marquess of Dorset. No doubt they considered him flawed, since he
had scruples where they had none, for unlike them, Anthony’s
fine
mind conceived of ideas and embraced ideals, and his curiosity about
the world he lived in—and the one to come—drove him
to
peruse the philosophers and devotional works. His fascination with
mysticism kindled doubts about the heedless pursuit of worldly gain and
led him to ponder their cost to his soul, further widening the gap
between himself and his kinfolk. He made pilgrimages to Rome, Naples,
France and Spain, and he penned the first book printed in England by
William Caxton’s press, The Dictes and Sayings of
Philosophers, a
translation of a French manuscript he acquired on his pilgrimage to St.
James of Compostella. The Dictes was a miscellany of advice from
ancient philosophers on truth and falsehood, living well, and on how to
treat friends and foes, wage war and govern wisely. In his prologue,
Anthony writes about the “storms of Fortune” he had
known
and of being sustained in adversity by his faith in God. Little did he
guess how fiercely, and how soon, those storms were to blow for him
again.
Nevertheless, while Anthony Woodville lived life
with one eye on Heaven, the other was fixed firmly on this world. Earl
Rivers always traveled with an impressive retinue. He enjoyed ceremony
and was fond of the joust where he sought to dazzle the crowd with his
skill in arms, good looks and magnificent costumes. During the
tournament celebrating the marriage of little Richard of York to Anne
Mowbray in December 1477, he was the most splendid figure of the day.
Like the one at Smithfield during the troubles with Warwick a decade
earlier, however, a certain someone was notable by his absence.
During these weeks, due mainly to the Woodvilles,
George Duke of Clarence lay confined to the Tower under sentence of
death, and Richard, with no heart for merriment, did not participate
in, or attend, the gorgeous spectacle. However, he still could not
escape the taunting reminders of how far his brother had fallen, and
how high the Woodvilles had risen, for Caxton’s recent
publication of Anthony Woodville’s book The Dictes was the
talk
of the court. Ironically, when Caxton had come to England, he had
sought Clarence’s patronage, but thanks to the Woodvilles,
Clarence now languished in the Tower.
One can only speculate how Richard felt to witness
the Woodvilles in their glory days. It could not have gone easy on him.
Though Clarence had caused him a great deal of travail over the years,
he was still bound to his malefactor by the bond of blood and memories.
For Richard who had chosen as his motto Loyalty Binds Me and who had
sided with his brother Edward against his adoptive family the Nevilles
and the girl he loved, grief and anger must have been overwhelming.
However well he may have liked Anthony Woodville
personally—and
there is no proof that he did—he would have held the
Queen’s brother responsible, at least to some extent, for
Clarence’s fate. No matter what else Anthony was, he was a
Woodville; and no matter what Clarence had done, he was blood.
By this period in 1477 Richard had watched the
Woodville queen humiliate, and then destroy, her rivals the Nevilles,
whom he had loved. He had watched her son, Dorset, take part in, and
aid, Edward’s drunken debauchery, staining what greatness he
might have otherwise achieved. He had watched them plot, and applaud,
Clarence’s destruction, a destiny that found its beginning
and
its end with the Woodvilles, and one which surely would have been
avoided had they not entered the scene. After Clarence’s
death,
Richard absented himself from court and was heard to remark that he
would one day have his revenge on the Queen. So how did
Richard
view Anthony? As one of the detested Woodvilles, and therefore guilty
by association, or as a unique individual, distinct from his scheming
relatives?
In medieval times a man was bound by social codes
very different from the ones today and rarely could he distance himself
from his clan and still thrive. John Neville, Marquess of Montagu, had
tried, and failed. Punished for being a Neville, he was driven back to
the brothers he had forsaken for his King. Richard and Anthony
Woodville had shared much together: battle, exile, danger, the loss of
a brother, as well as good times, festivities, high honors and many a
success. They even shared some strong similarities. Both were good
soldiers, hard-working, intelligent men with imagination and drive. Yet
no matter how congenial a companion Anthony may have proven during
these turbulent years, Richard would have found it difficult to forget
that, but for the Woodvilles, there would have been no civil war or
second exile in Burgundy, and he wouldn’t have been shorn of
one
brother and distanced from the other. Further balancing any regard he
might have for his brother-in-law was the knowledge that Anthony had
benefited from Clarence’s death by receiving incomes from his
estates. Amidst the pull of these conflicting emotions in
which
the negative had to predominate, came Edward’s death and the
fateful events at Stony Stratford.
One of the mysteries of this period centers on why
Anthony Woodville did what he did at Stony Stratford. His motives have
been scrutinized by historians and remain speculation, but it does seem
he was a reluctant participant in the queen’s scheme to trump
Richard’s hand. He did not depart Ludlow with the young king
in
haste, as the queen had urged. Instead he dallied to celebrate St.
George’s Day, the anniversary of his knighthood. Once again
we
find evidence that other considerations, either spiritual or
sentimental, over-rode the raw ambition which characterized the rest of
his clan, especially his sister.
Two weeks after Edward’s death Anthony
Woodville set out with the King and an escort of two thousand men to
meet Richard at Northampton. But he failed to halt there. Instead, he
continued on to Stony Stratford, fourteen miles closer to London.
Pressure brought by Lord Richard Grey, the King’s
half-brother,
whom the Queen had sent to meet Anthony in Northampton, must have been
responsible for this change in plan. The queen had learned of
her
brother’s cordial agreement to rendezvous with Richard, and
anxious to whisk the King to London ahead of the Protector so she could
seize power, she sent her son Grey to sabotage the arrangement. The
question arises, why then did Anthony Woodville return to Northampton?
The historian Elizabeth Jenkins believes that after
agreeing to rendezvous with Richard and then making the King evade it,
he couldn’t evade it himself without an appearance of
hostility.
Kendall agrees that Anthony was under pressure from his family to
deliver the King to London ahead of Richard and had misgivings about
such a course. Perhaps he disagreed with his willful, rapacious
sister—and surely not for the first time. Perhaps, too, he
actually liked Richard and empathized with his predicament.
Did Anthony Woodville die because he tried to stand apart from his
clan? He didn’t break with them as John Neville had done for
the
sake of his conscience during the troubles with Warwick, but he did try
to ameliorate a bad situation by making an effort to show his own
goodwill. Again, it is Kendall who captures the essence of the two men
at this crucial juncture in their lives:
“So unlovely was his family that even Anthony, for all his
accomplishments, could not be loved, save by his immediate followers
and Caxton. In Richard’s mind, the renewed plotting of the
Queen
justified his execution, but in a broader sense he perished because
nobody spoke for him and because he was the ablest, not the most guilty
of a family which had long exacerbated the feelings, and now threatened
the stability, of the realm.”
Around June 18th, Richard signed Anthony
Woodville’s death warrant and sent it north. On the evening
of
June 23rd, at Sheriff Hutton, Anthony Woodville was informed that as a
result of his sister’s plotting, he would be put to death.
His
mind in turmoil, he made out his will and begged Richard to ensure his
wishes were carried out. That night, this man of letters
crowded
his thoughts into a plaintive little ballad:
“Somewhat
musing,
And more mourning,
In remembering
Th’unsteadfastness;
This world being
Of such wheeling,
Me contrarying,
What may I guess?”
The following day he was taken to Pontefract and on
June 25th he was beheaded along with Richard Grey and King
Edward’s tutor, Thomas Vaughn. It was discovered afterwards
that
Anthony Woodville, who considered himself a staunch son of the Holy
Church, had gone to his death wearing a hair shirt beneath his rich
robes of an earl.
In his piety, as in several other aspects of his
character, Anthony Woodville bore a strong resemblance to Richard.
Neither man accepted Church dogma blindly, but impregnated it with his
own character: Anthony, with a special mysticism, and Richard with an
independent philosophical quality evidenced by his willingness to marry
Anne without a dispensation and to own a Lollard Bible. There
is
yet one other way in which they were both strangely similar; one which
is quite poignant.
An analysis of Anthony’s handwriting reveals
that he was a tireless researcher and had a theatrical sense, qualities
which when combined with his excellent mind, would have made him a fine
lawyer. Richard’s own excellent mind and his
tireless
dedication to the pursuit of justice is well documented. Had they lived
today, they might have met across a courtroom bench as lawyer and
judge. But this was 1483 and the game of politics was the most
dangerous a man could play. The stakes were never higher. A crown hung
in the balance, as well as life itself—and not merely their
own,
but the lives of those they loved.
Much as Anthony Woodville might have liked to stand
apart from his family at this fateful moment at Stony Stratford, he
could not do so. And much as Richard might have wished to avoid this
final, and deadly, confrontation with Anthony, he could not take the
chance. They were both forced to act against their will; maybe even
against their own heart.
In this lay the greatest tragedy they shared.
i.
For
considerations of length, the broad outlines of Anthony Woodville's
career are sketched here ratner than in the body of the article. He was
a member of the embassy that arranged the match between the Duke of
Burgundy and Edward's sister, Margaret in 1467, and he escorted the
bride to Bruges, where he took part in a brilliant tournament. He
escaped the fate of his brother and his father, Earl Rivers, at
Edgecote in 1469, and succeeded as the second Earl Rivers. He shared
Edward's exile in Burgundy, and returned with him to secure victory at
Barnet, and to beat off the Bastard of Fauconberg's attack on London.
ii.
Kendall, Paul Murray, RICHARD THE THIRD; W.W.Norton, New York, p. 254
iii.
Kendall, Richard The Third, W.W. Norton & Company, p. 204
iv.
Sir Edward Woodville was the exception
v.
Dominic Mancini
vi.
Calendar of Patent Rolls 1476-85
vii.
Jenkins, Elizabeth, THE PRINCES IN THE TOWER, Coward, McCann &
Geoghegan, Inc; p. 146
viii.
Kendall, ibid, p.254
ix.
Anthony's
will was never proven. It may have been that Richard was unable to find
time due to the pressure of events, or it may have been that it was
simply overlooked. The reason is just not known.
x.
The full ballad appears in Kendall, ibid, p. 253
xi.
Not
because he disavowed the miracle of transubstantiation, but because
this most English of English kings wished to read Scripture in his own
tongue, the language dearest to his heart.
xii.
Master
Graphoanalyst Florence Craving's conclusion comes from an examination
of the sample of Anthony Woodville's handwriting provided in the 1995
exhibition at Warwick Castle, "To Prove A Villain."
|
|
