Katherine Swynford Part 2

A survey of the ducal warrants shows that John exercised a close degree of personal interest in all aspects of his affairs, and that he was frequently generous, benevolent and merciful to his bondsmen and tenants, showing himself 'in all his actions good and gentle'.60 He ensured that their dwellings were kept in good repair, excused them rents and dues in times of hardship, and willingly permitted them to go on pilgrimage or take holy orders. He distributed 2 (626) in alms every Friday and Sat.u.r.day, sent gifts of firewood to the poor lepers of Leicester, and wine to the prisoners in Newgate gaol. He allowed his villeins to perform their service of carrying wood to his castle at Tutbury in summer, to spare them the discomfort of doing it in the winter cold.61 The chronicler Knighton, who lauded him for his clemency, tells how he refused to hang certain servants who had stolen some of his silver, declaring, 'No man should lose his life for my chattels.' In the years to come, Katherine Swynford herself would benefit repeatedly from John's open-handedness and consideration.

Thanks to the enormous wealth and power that had come to him through his magnificent marriage, John of Gaunt was for the rest of his life to play a leading role at the centre of English and indeed international politics. And with the Black Prince in Aquitaine, and Lionel serving as the King's deputy in Ireland, John, at just twenty-two, was now the most important man in England after the monarch himself. Edward III quickly came to rely on him, as both a soldier and a diplomat, although it must be said that he was to enjoy considerably more success in the latter capacity. The acquisition of the Lancaster inheritance also gave John the capacity to raise large armies from his estates, and so play a prominent role in the war with France. At home, he was to be active in Parliament and highly influential at court.

It was an honour to serve such a prince, and a signal responsibility to help nurture the ducal children, which is what Katherine de Roet was probably doing at this time. And she would have been kept busy. Around 1362 (or 1364), Blanche bore a son and heir, John, who tragically died young, probably before 4 May 1366, when his mother gave birth to another son who was also named John. The first John was probably still living in 1365, when a second son Edward was born; the fact that two of the ducal sons were called John after their father suggests that this was the name of choice for the heir, so we may infer from the use of the name Edward for the second son that the first John still lived when he was born, but that the latter had died by the time the third son was given the same name. This first John was probably the child buried under an arch near the high altar in St Mary's Church in the Newarke at Leicester.62 By 21 February 1363, Blanche was also the mother of a second daughter, Elizabeth,63 having borne three children in less than three years.

Like all great mediaeval households, John of Gaunt's was itinerant, moving around the country to satisfy the demands of politics, estate business, law enforcement, hunting and the social calendar. The Duke himself would ride from house to house, resplendent on his hunting courser, but kept horse-drawn carriages for the use of his wife and children. The whole household went with them, accompanied by a long train of carts, packhorses and sumpter mules carrying furniture, hangings, household effects, clothing, doc.u.ments and the ornaments of the ducal chapel.64 Nearly every summer, John made a habit of spending time on his lands in the Midlands and the North. Katherine would soon have become familiar with an array of luxurious Lancastrian residences, including the imposing castles at Kenilworth, Higham Ferrers, Bolingbroke, Tutbury, Knaresborough and Pontefract there were more than thirty in all. But for much of the rest of the year, John was at Hertford or in London, and when he was in the capital, he was to be found at his chief residence, the magnificent palace of the Savoy,65 the pride of his properties and the outward symbol of his greatness. It was here that he entertained visiting royalty and amba.s.sadors, who were invariably suitably impressed by their luxurious surroundings.

The Savoy Palace, that 'very fine building on the Thames',66 was to figure large in Katherine's life. Standing a mile beyond the western walls of the City of London, amongst the aristocratic and episcopal mansions that lined the Strand on the Thames side, it occupied a large area that today stretches from Waterloo Bridge to Durham House Street. In those days, the Strand was paved as far as the Savoy. The churches of St Mary-le-Strand and St Clement Danes stood a little to the north-east, and the convent gardens of Westminster Abbey (now Covent Garden) were opposite. Further east was the Temple and beyond it the City of London itself. Immediately to the south of the palace was the London residence of John's 'faithful friend', the Bishop of Carlisle, then beyond it the house of the Bishop of Durham, the cross at Charing built in memory of Edward I's queen, Eleanor of Castile, the Church of St Martin-in-the-Fields and the Hospital of St Mary of Rouncevalles, which enjoyed John of Gaunt's patronage and stood at the entrance to the present Northumberland Avenue. Beyond it, as the Thames curved south, lay York Place, the town palace of the Archbishops of York, and Westminster, the seat of government, with its imposing royal palace and abbey.

The Savoy Theatre (built 1881) and the Savoy Hotel (built 1889) now occupy 'the Precinct of the Savoy' in which the palace was sited, and Savoy Street, Savoy Place, Savoy Way, Savoy Steps, Savoy Row, Savoy Court, Savoy Buildings and Savoy Hill are reminders of it. The Duchy of Lancaster, which is now incorporated in the Crown, still has its offices where the mighty palace once stood, in Lancaster Place by Waterloo Bridge.

Although there had been a mansion on the site as early as 1189, the original Savoy Palace was built by Peter, Count of Savoy, an uncle of Henry III's queen, Eleanor of Provence, in the thirteenth century. In 1245, Peter was granted a parcel of land east of Westminster 'in that street called the Strand', and in 1263 raised a palace there. It is his gilded statue that stands above the doorway of the modern Savoy Hotel. In his will, he bequeathed this property to the Hospice of St Bernard, a monastic community in Savoy, from whom Queen Eleanor purchased it for her son, Edmund Crouchback, Earl of Lancaster, in 1284. In the 1350s, at a cost of 35,000 (13,660,715),67 his grandson, Henry, Duke of Lancaster, 'entirely rebuilt'68 the Savoy as a sumptuous palace, paying for it out of the profits he had made in the Hundred Years War. In 135760, the captive King John II of France enjoyed 'a most agreeable' stay at the Savoy, and when he returned to England as a hostage in 1364, he specifically asked to stay there; he died there in April of that year.

The palace was reputed to be the most beautiful and opulent building in England it was 'a marvellous structure unmatched in the kingdom', 'the fairest manor in Europe', 'unto which there was none in the realm to be compared in beauty, splendour, n.o.bility and stateliness'.69 It rivalled even the King's great palace at Westminster. It was built on a quadrangular collegiate plan; at its core was a magnificent great hall, which was surrounded by domestic and service ranges erected around courtyards and connected by cloisters and alleyways; the ducal apartments lay behind the great hall, and had windows facing the river. The whole precinct was surrounded by a fortified wall, bisected by a ma.s.sive gateway with a portcullis on the Strand, a smaller gate next to it for pedestrians, and a river gate at the side. There was a chapel to the right of the front gateway, a library, a treasure chamber, extensive wine cellars, accommodation for an army of servants and retainers, stables, orchards, a fish pond and beautiful rose and vegetable gardens with ornamental rails and flower borders, all sloping down to the Thames; the Duke loved his gardens, and actively involved himself in their planning and maintenance. At the rear of the palace, elegant terraces overlooked the Thames, which in the fourteenth century was much wider and shallower than it is today. A low wall ran along the river's edge, and stairs led down to the landing stages, where barges could be moored. With the narrow streets of London so congested, most people preferred to travel by river. John's richly appointed barges he bought a new one in 1373 had a master and a crew of eight oarsmen,70 and he would use them whenever he wished to visit the court at Westminster or, later on, the Black Prince at Kennington Palace on the Surrey sh.o.r.e of the Thames.

John of Gaunt made yet more improvements to the Savoy. He employed the great master mason, Henry Yevele, whose work can still be seen in Westminster Hall, Westminster Abbey and Canterbury Cathedral. Yevele was much in demand, for it was he who refined and improved the new Perpendicular style of architecture, with its flattened arches and fan vaulting; he had worked for the Black Prince at Kennington, and would do so for Edward III and Richard II at Westminster, the Tower of London, Eltham Palace, Sheen Palace and Leeds Castle. John of Gaunt also commissioned Henry Yevele to make improvements to Hertford Castle.

The interiors of the Savoy were sumptuous. The furniture, rich beds and headboards one of which, emblazoned with heraldic shields, was said to be worth 1,000 marks (125,221)71 French tapestries,72 silk hangings, gold and silver plate, stained gla.s.s, carpets, cushions, fine napery and ornaments all afforded lavish evidence of the Duke's immense wealth and superb taste. His registers record payments for numerous luxury items, including jewelled goblets, devotional books with gem-encrusted leather bindings, images of the Virgin Mary, sculpted reliefs of the Crucifixion, enamels, and rich silks from Constantinople in the Lancastrian colours of blue and white. The contents of the palace alone were valued at 10,000 (3,756,616), and those of the chapel at 500 (187,831). Nothing survives, but the tapestries must have been similar to those John owned in 1393, which depicted the Frankish King Clovis, Moses confronting Pharaoh, and The Life of the Lover and the Beloved. The palace was also the repository for John's priceless treasures, his armour, his furs and cloth of gold, his fabulous collection of jewels and precious stones, and his wardrobe. 'No prince in Christendom had a finer wardrobe, and scarcely any could even match it, for there were such quant.i.ties of vessels and silver plate that five carts would hardly suffice to carry them.'73 The Savoy housed too the Duke's secretariat and many of the written records, deeds and muniments of his Duchy.

Although he had his private apartments, John would have taken his meals in the great hall of his palace, at a table set on the dais or in a window embrasure, accompanied by his familia. This word applied not only to his family members, but also to the knights of his retinue, his confessor and honoured guests. The food was prepared by his master cook and an army of helpers, who worked in the various service departments: the kitchen, pantry, b.u.t.tery, poultry, scullery and saltery. Dishes served at the ducal table included venison, game, salmon, bream, stockfish, herring, rabbit, poultry and lampreys. At the great feasts of the year Christmas, Epiphany, Easter and Pentecost the Duke's arrival in the hall was heralded by his trumpeters.74 There is no way of knowing if the present Savoy Chapel, which is owned by the Queen as Duke of Lancaster, occupies the site of the original palace chapel, because no plans of the palace survive, and in the early sixteenth century, Henry VII 'beautifully rebuilt' the Savoy75 as the Hospital of St John, for the succour of the poor. This tiny gem of a chapel, which was part of Henry VII's foundation, suffered damage by fire in 1864, and was largely rebuilt in the Perpendicular style the following year by Queen Victoria; since 1937, it has served as the Chapel of the Royal Victorian Order. Interestingly, the Savoy Chapel, like the hospital it served, was originally dedicated to St John the Baptist, one of John of Gaunt's own name-saints.76 What was he like, this exalted Duke, in whose household Katherine lived, and whose amorous interest she would one day ignite? He is known to most people largely through his brief appearance in Shakespeare's Richard II, in which 'old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster' features as a dying elder statesman who makes a famously patriotic speech about the kingdom he has loyally served for many decades: This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war; This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea . . .

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings.

But this is not the sum of the man far from it, for these sentiments are unlikely to have informed the thinking of the real John of Gaunt, who was a remarkable and complex character, entirely undeserving of the poor reputation cast upon him for centuries by historians and other writers, who mostly followed the calumnies of hostile chroniclers or accepted Sir John Fortescue's fifteenth-century view of John as the oppressive over-mighty subject par excellence. For them, he was an unscrupulous and immoral tyrant.77 It was not until 1904, with the appearance of Sydney Armitage-Smith's monumental biography, that a fairer and more considered view of John of Gaunt emerged.

For better or worse, John of Gaunt made a tremendous impact on the history of England; even today, oral traditions, legends and folk memories of him still survive throughout the Lancastrian 'countries', as his domains were called.78 His name is writ large in the annals of the age of chivalry. He was the greatest English n.o.bleman of his time.

In appearance, even as a young man, John of Gaunt was commanding. In The Boke of the d.u.c.h.esse, Chaucer gives us a tantalising glimpse of him at the age of twenty-eight, describing him as 'a splendidly looking knight . . . of n.o.ble stature' with a 'stately manner'. Traditionally, it has been a.s.serted that John was unusually tall, because from 1625 it was claimed that a suit of armour measuring 6'8" in height, which is still preserved in the Tower of London, had been made for him; in 1699, a visitor to the Tower admired its codpiece, 'which was almost as big as a p.o.o.p-lantern, and better worth a lewd lady's admiration than any piece of antiquity in the Tower';79 but sadly for those who relish such 'evidence' of the Duke's famed virility it has now been established that this armour dates only from around 1540, was made in Germany, and has nothing to do with John of Gaunt.

The only other surviving description of John is to be found in the Portuguese chronicle written by Ferno Lopes, whose account was based on the recollections of people who had known the Duke. According to this, he was 'a man with his limbs well-built and straight'; spare and lean, 'he did not seem to have as much flesh as was required by the height of his body', yet he was vigorous and healthy, as befitted a warrior who played a prominent part in no fewer than a dozen military and naval campaigns,80 and had, according to Lopes, 'high majestic features and piercing eyes'. Surviving representations of 'this vial full of Edward's sacred blood'81 depict a hollow-cheeked, bearded man with the angular bone-structure and aristocratic aquiline nose of the Plantagenets. In youth, John probably looked young for his years: in 1368, Chaucer thought he was twenty-four, when he was actually twenty-eight, but then he was 'not bushy-bearded at this stage'.

There are several surviving images that enable us to gain some idea of what John of Gaunt looked like. The earliest-known contemporary picture of him was in a mural depicting Edward III, his family and St George adoring the Virgin. This once adorned a wall at the eastern end of St Stephen's Chapel in the Palace of Westminster, and was painted after 1355, since Thomas of Woodstock, the King's youngest son, who was born that year, is included. In no sense were these portraits. Like his father and brothers, John appears in armour, kneeling. Although the faces of each of the eighteen-inch-high figures are all different, John's is a blank, for the paint had perished before the picture was copied.82 This mural, which had lain hidden under panelling for centuries, was discovered in 1800, only to be covered up again almost immediately, and then destroyed in the fire that burned down the palace in 1834. It is known only through coloured drawings made from tracings in 1800, which were engraved by Richard Smirke for the Society of Antiquaries of London.

John also appeared in armour on his tomb effigy, but the only surviving drawings of his lost tomb depict the effigy that replaced the original in the sixteenth century.83 His seal as King of Castile and Leon shows him enthroned, bearded and wearing a coronet over his chin-length hair. This is a conventional image of a king rather than a portrait.84 There is a contemporary coloured miniature of John of Gaunt in the 'Liber Benefactorum' of St Albans Abbey, which dates from c.1380. This shows him at prayer, wearing a long gold and pink robe embroidered in red, with a gold collar, four large b.u.t.tons down the front, red undersleeves and red boots; he sports wavy reddish-brown hair again chin-length crowned by a gold coronet, wears a fashionable forked beard and has somewhat florid features, the delineation of which suggests that the artist, a lay illuminator called Alan Strayler, knew what his subject looked like. John was about forty at this time.85 There are posthumous stained-gla.s.s portraits of John of Gaunt in the chapel of All Souls College, Oxford, which was executed in 1437, and in the St Cuthbert memorial window in York Minster, which dates from c.1440.86 Parts of the head in the All Souls gla.s.s were replaced in the seventeenth century, but in both windows he is portrayed with the same forked beard as in the St Albans miniature, and bears a remarkable resemblance to his father, Edward III, as he appears in the effigy on his tomb in Westminster Abbey. The small statue of John as a weeper on that tomb, which dates from the same period as the St Albans miniature, also shows him with a forked beard and long gown. The beard would have been kept trimmed by the Duke's barber, G.o.dfrey.87 A panel portrait in oils of John of Gaunt, wearing armour and helm, in which his finely chiselled facial features bear a striking similarity to those in other representations of him, is in the collection of his descendant, the Duke of Beaufort, at Badminton. Once thought to have been painted from life in 1390, it is now known to have been executed between 1600 and 1650. It is ascribed to a Dutch artist called Luca Cornelli, of whom nothing more has been discovered; it was once claimed erroneously that he was a court painter to Henry VIII. There is a possibility that this vivid portrait is based on a lost original; interestingly, John is identified by his arms as King of Castile and Leon, and by the heraldic symbols of those kingdoms a castle and three lions. As he renounced his claims to Castile and Leon in 1388, one would expect any later portrait to refer to him simply as Duke of Lancaster, so this portrait might possibly be a copy of one that was executed from life before 1388. Richard II, in whose reign such an original would have been painted, pioneered the novel art of royal portraiture in England, commissioning, in c.1395 or later, the Wilton Diptych and the commanding full-length portrait of himself enthroned that is now in Westminster Abbey. There may well have been other portraits of the King that have not survived, so it is not beyond the bounds of belief that an artist working in England under his patronage might also have painted John of Gaunt, the foremost lord in the realm, and that this is a copy of that lost original. Alternatively since the pose is more typical of the seventeenth than the fourteenth century the artist could have used John's funeral effigy in St Paul's as a model.

John dressed stylishly and elegantly, even magnificently, but there was an element of well-bred restraint about his clothes, unusual in that age of brash display. 'His garments were not full wide,' observed Thomas Hoccleve, but they did reflect his elevated status; like most aristocrats of the period, he loved ceremony, ritual and the outward trappings of rank.

John was reserved and dignified in character, a proud man who was ever conscious of the gravitas of his high estate. According to the laudatory Chandos Herald, he 'had many virtues'. Courteous and charming, he 'spoke well, very measured, temperately and with good judgement, being self-controlled and good-humoured'.88 Skilled in logic and rhetoric, he was a powerful orator and accomplished at debating; Froissart calls him 'wise and imaginative', and the author of the Anonimalle Chronicle describes him arguing his point in Parliament 'in good form, as if he was a man of law'. Edward III himself paid tribute to the 'probity, activity and excelling wisdom of his dearest son John'. A great traditionalist, the Duke was conventional in his tastes and outlook, and reactionary in his views. Rarely did he abuse his power. Instead, he was liberal, generous, prudent, thoughtful and above all possessed of a strong sense of honour and firm principles. He never shirked his obligations or responsibilities, nor failed in his duty. He was applauded for his sense of fair play, and once won golden opinions when he threatened to hang a cheating duellist as a traitor.89 For him, the laws of chivalry were sacrosanct, and he tried all his life to remain true to his knightly oath while modestly protesting, 'I am no great knight myself.' Yet, he added, 'My greatest delight is hearing of gallant deeds of arms.'90 The Duke did not take kindly to criticism or to being contradicted. When provoked, he was quick to explode with anger or act on impulse, being 'jealous of honour, sudden and quick in quarrel'. He was capable of using 'great harsh words' in Parliament,91 and could be peremptory when giving orders: 'Get this done without any slip-up,' he once commanded, or 'Make sure this is done in such a manner, understanding that, if it is disrupted, we would not wish to impute the blame to you; and do not neglect this, as you wish to avoid upsetting us.'92 His grand manner often made him appear haughty, autocratic, aloof and even intimidating, which did not endear him to his envious contemporaries, and alienated a number of his fellow n.o.bles. But he cared little for that public opinion was rarely of concern to him. Because of his wealth and power, he had no need to court favour or heed resentment.

Chaucer, however, found John to be a 'wonder and well-faring knight' who was 'so treatable, right wonder skilful, and reasonable' that he put the poet at his ease 'and got me acquaint with him'.93 How kindly spoke this knight, Without false style or sense of rank; . . . I felt that he was too frank, And found him most approachable, And very wise and reasonable.

This suggests that John was more relaxed and outgoing amongst those he knew well. He could be engagingly self-deprecating, candidly confessing to his own faults, such as having 'a head and memory feeble at remembering'.94 And he was willing to be flexible, and to heed advice that ran contrary to his own inclinations.95 John was undoubtedly ambitious. His birth, connections, wealth and landed status made him an important player, not only on the English political stage, but in the arena of European politics, where he was to carve out for himself a major role. In the future, ill-informed people in England, misled by his overbearing hauteur and distrustful of his vast power and wealth, would often express suspicion of John's ambition and where it might lead him; whereas abroad, it was a different story, for these very characteristics made him widely admired throughout Europe. But the distrust was misplaced, for his loyalty to the Crown, and his patriotism, were astonishingly unshakeable, and he was, all his life, a mighty champion and defender of royal authority and prestige. 'The King had no more faithful servant than himself, and he would follow wherever he would lead.'96 John's loyalty and steadfastness extended to his friends also, and it was evident even when such friendships compromised his reputation, as was the case with John Wycliffe. He was true and decent to his family too, and set much store by 'the natural ties of kinship'. He clearly held his parents and siblings in deep affection and respect; he became a devoted and caring father, and he was to prove steadfast in love for many years to two women in turn. He was generous to them, and to those close to him: much of the money in his privy purse went on personal gifts carefully chosen by himself.

Although he was not violent by nature unlike his brother the Black Prince John was a courageous, dedicated and energetic soldier. 'His campaigns were always physically arduous to himself,' wrote Froissart. He was also a competent and prudent commander who was at his best when laying siege to a town. But for various reasons, not all his fault, military success continually eluded him, and he was to prove far more fortunate and productive in the fields of diplomacy and politics than as a military leader, for he possessed 'admirable judgement' and 'a brilliant mind'.97 Nonetheless, Froissart ranked him with Edward III, the Black Prince and Duke Henry among the 'valiant chevaliers' of the age.

'The pious Duke', as the admiring Knighton calls him, was a devout Catholic with orthodox views, and as conventional in his observance of religion as he was in all other things. He evinced a deep devotion to his patron saint, St John the Baptist, St Cuthbert and the Virgin Mary.98 A hugely generous benefactor, he endowed monastic houses, collegiate churches and friaries the Carmelites were especially favoured by him, and he chose all his confessors from their Order.99 He was also a munificent patron of St Albans Abbey, and in its 'Liber Benefactorum', it is recorded that 'this Prince had an extreme love and affection for our monastery and Abbot, and greatly enriched the church with his magnificent and oft-repeated oblations'.100 He sent food and firewood to poor parish priests in his domains, rebuilt their churches and parsonages, and ensured they were kept in repair. However, his concern about abuses within the Church and his resentment of the corrupt power of wealthy ecclesiastics led him to adopt an anti-clerical stance that was to prove controversial.

In his leisure hours, John loved above all to go hunting; he owned numerous chases, forests and parks, and took great pains to keep them well maintained, and his itinerary was usually tailored to availing himself of their sport at the appropriate season.101 He was equally pa.s.sionate about falconry, and his mews, stocked with costly birds, were renowned throughout Europe.102 Where indoor pursuits were concerned, John enjoyed games of dice, and like Blanche, he had literary interests. He was indeed an intelligent, cultivated and accomplished man with refined and sophisticated tastes. In youth, Chaucer tells us, he had studied 'science, art and letters'.103 He shared an interest in astronomy with Chaucer himself and with Joan of Kent, and in 1386 Nicholas of Lynn dedicated his Kalendarium to John.104 The Duke patronised artists, funded poor scholars at the universities, was an active patron of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and appointed masters to grammar schools.105 He loved music, and employed talented choristers, musicians and minstrels in his chapel and household. To judge by their names, his company of minstrels were of Flemish or Hainaulter origin. His musicians played on the pipes, clarions and 'nakers', an early form of kettle drum, the drumsticks being of silver.106 According to Chaucer, John, in his youth, wrote songs that he himself admitted 'fell short'.107 He spoke Norman French on a daily basis, read French with ease, had a good grasp of English in 1363, he became the first person ever to open Parliament in that language and must have learned some Flemish from his mother, but he was also apparently well tutored in Latin, and enjoyed reading the cla.s.sics as well as contemporary romance literature;108 we have seen that he kept a library at the Savoy, although there is no surviving record of its contents. He is not known to have directly patronised Chaucer, but he would have been familiar with his works, for reasons that will shortly become clear, and Chaucer probably wrote The Boke of the d.u.c.h.esse with him in mind, knowing that he and his circle would appreciate its literary significance and understand its allegorical and mythological allusions. Chaucer later addressed a short poem ent.i.tled 'Fortune' to 'three or two' princes probably John and his brothers Edmund of Langley and Thomas of Woodstock in the knowledge that they would know who he was talking about when he referred to Socrates; and it was claimed in the fifteenth century, by the copyist John Shirley, that John himself had commissioned another of Chaucer's poems, 'The Complaint of Mars',109 although this cannot be substantiated.

It has been suggested too that it was John who commissioned the epic courtly poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, which was written in York or the northern Midlands, in Lancastrian territory, possibly around 1375, but again, there is no proof to support this claim. John could certainly discriminate between good and bad poetry when a monk, Walter of Peterborough, seeking a reward, dedicated a dreadful piece of doggerel to him in 1367, the Duke pointedly ignored it.110 This was the 'magnificent lord' whose wife Katherine now served, and whose children she would care for. She must have seen and perhaps conversed with him frequently when he was at home and visiting the d.u.c.h.ess's apartments, or presiding over meals in the great hall, and doubtless she was as in awe of him as most people were. She was, after all, just a young teenager at the time. She may well have found him attractive and admired him from afar, yet there is nothing to show that she was anything to him at this time. Quite the contrary, for the evidence we have strongly suggests that he had eyes only for his beautiful wife. Katherine could therefore never have dreamed that the Duke's fancy would one day fix itself upon her, and anyway, she had other things to preoccupy her mind, not the least of which was marriage.

3.

'The Trap of Wedding'

By 1363, Katherine de Roet had entered her teens, and her beauty, which would one day be so famous, was becoming evident.

The epitaph on John of Gaunt's tomb in Old St Paul's Cathedral, which was lost in the Great Fire of 1666, described Katherine as eximia pulchritudine feminam 'extraordinarily beautiful and feminine'. This epitaph was not contemporary but was placed on the restored sepulchre in the reign of Henry VII, who was desirous of restoring the good reputation of this rather dubious ancestress. It is unusual to find words of this kind in an epitaph the emphasis is usually on virtue and good works but since Henry VII could hardly laud Katherine's virtue, it is possible that he ordered reference to be made to her beauty because it was one of the things that people did remember her for, and it may even have been referred to in the original tomb inscription, which had been destroyed well within living memory.

It has long been claimed that there are no adequate surviving pictorial representations of Katherine. The only one we can say for certain is meant to be her is Dugdale's crude seventeenth-century sketch of her lost bra.s.s in Lincoln Cathedral, done before the desecrations of the Civil War. In no way could this be described as a portrait. It is a formalised line drawing of a woman in a widow's veil and wimple.1 Two tiny carved heads in the Pulpitum in Canterbury Cathedral, each no bigger than a walnut and dating from around 1400, have been identified on questionable grounds as Katherine Swynford and John of Gaunt.2 They are said to have closed eyes to indicate that both had pa.s.sed away, but this may be a fanciful interpretation because pupils were not always incised in facial sculpture of the period. Two of John of Gaunt's sons were later buried in the cathedral, but in both cases some while after the probable date of these carvings, so no link is feasible. Even if this identification were correct, neither head could be said to be a portrait.3 Because we have a good idea of what John of Gaunt looked like, we might search for evidence of physical features perhaps inherited from Katherine in the surviving tomb effigies of three of their children. These may be fairly accurate likenesses, for from the fourteenth century, sculptors attempted to portray their subjects realistically: the effigies of Philippa of Hainault, Edward III (which was based on his death mask), Richard II and Anne of Bohemia are good examples. It has been claimed that a portrait of a cardinal by Jan Van Eyck is Katherine's son, Henry Beaufort, and while that attribution cannot be proved, the face is round and fleshy, whereas John of Gaunt's was long and thin, with aquiline features and a straight nose that were inherited by his daughter Elizabeth and his great-granddaughter, Margaret Beaufort, the mother of Henry VII. By contrast, the effigies of Katherine's children all have round or oval faces, which they perhaps inherited from their mother.

Writers and historians have long and fruitlessly searched the poems of Chaucer for allusions to his famous sister-in-law, Katherine Swynford. Silva-Vigier, in her biography of John of Gaunt, thought it was not fanciful to suggest that the young Katherine was the model for the beautiful Virginia, the heroine of 'The Physician's Tale'.

The maiden was fourteen, on whose array Nature had spent her care with such delight.

For, just as she can paint a lily white, Redden a rose and teach it to unfurl Her petals, so she touched this n.o.ble girl Ere she was born; her limbs so lissom she Had touched with colours where they ought to be; Phoebus her ma.s.s of tresses with a gleam Had dyed in burnish from his golden stream; And if her beauty was beyond compare, Her virtue was a thousand times more rare.

Sadly, there is nothing in these lines specifically to link them to Katherine. By the time they were written, her affair with John of Gaunt was notorious, and her reputation such that Chaucer could hardly have got away with that last line. Nor does the poem tell us much about Virginia save that she was beautiful and golden-haired, attributes that could probably have been possessed by several young girls Chaucer knew.

Yet Katherine too may have been golden-haired, and we may indeed possess something approaching a likeness of her. An early-fifteenth-century illuminated frontispiece to a ma.n.u.script of Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde4 shows the poet reciting his work to the court of Richard II. The ident.i.ty of the courtiers ranged about him has been the subject of much learned discussion: one of the figures is clearly supposed to be King Richard (with the face rubbed out); his first queen, Anne of Bohemia, is said to be next to him, wearing a pink gown; one of the five well-dressed men in the foreground is probably John of Gaunt; and a lady in a blue gown trimmed with ermine, kneeling in the front, has been tentatively identified as Joan of Kent, the King's mother.5 It has also been suggested that the lady seated next to her, who is attired in a flowing blue gown called a houppelande, which has long hanging sleeves, a wide stand-up collar lined with white fabric, and a gold girdle clasped beneath the b.r.e.a.s.t.s, is Katherine.6 She has a round face, fashionably high forehead and blonde plaits coiled high above each temple and roped around the crown of her head.

There are problems with this theory. Chaucer wrote Troilus and Criseyde probably between 1385 and 1388, by which time Joan of Kent was dead. Even so, the ma.n.u.script was not produced until early in the fifteenth century, so it would be likely to depict courtiers who were prominent towards the close of Richard II's reign. The lady in pink next to the faceless man identified probably correctly as Richard may actually be his child-queen, Isabella of Valois; it was common for children to be represented as adults in an age that did not fully understand realism or perspective. Almost certainly John of Gaunt is one of the five well-dressed men, probably the dignified bearded man in striking red robes standing to the left. At the end of Richard's reign, Katherine was his d.u.c.h.ess, and as such the second lady in the land; thus the prominent female figure in the ermine-and-gold-trimmed tight-fitting blue gown, whose dress clearly marks her out as being a royal lady of some importance, must be her. The fair girl in blue to the left, hitherto tentatively identified as Katherine Swynford, looks too young to be a woman of at least forty-six; her position next to Katherine Swynford, who has an arm around her, and in front of the man who may be John of Gaunt, suggests she was perhaps their daughter, Joan Beaufort; indeed, her image bears a close resemblance to Joan Beaufort's tomb effigy, which suggests that the painter had seen his subjects.

Other evidence supports this identification: in the fifteenth century, the ma.n.u.script was owned by Joan's daughter, Anne Neville, Countess of Stafford, having probably been bequeathed to her by Joan, Chaucer's own niece, for whom it had almost certainly been made.7 It would therefore be natural for Joan's parents to be conspicuously depicted in it, and for Joan to be shown with them. Later evidence (which will be discussed elsewhere) strongly suggests that Joan was committed to rehabilitating Katherine's reputation, and emphasising her mother's importance as second lady in the realm by having her portrayed as the most prominent female figure in the picture would be a logical consequence of this.

Bearing this in mind, there are sound reasons for believing that this ermine-and-blue-clad lady in the Troilus frontispiece is Katherine, and thus we may have come, at last, face to face with her. If so, she was fair-haired and buxom, with a tiny waist, high stomach and wide hips, a woman ideally proportioned to suit fashionable notions of the female figure in that era. Her neck was long, her face round with a high forehead, and her hair elegantly swept up and pinned beneath a golden coronet, which in itself identifies her rank. If she looked as voluptuously handsome as this when she was in her late forties, it is easy to see why John of Gaunt had been so taken with her charms a quarter of a century earlier, and why her beauty became legendary.

Much of what we can glean of Katherine's character and interests has to be inferred from the fragmentary sources that have come down to us; we have to look beyond the scathing criticisms of monastic chroniclers shocked by her liaison with the Duke to the sounder evidence to be found in less sensational records. It is noteworthy that her worst critics, Thomas Walsingham and the anonymous author of the Anonimalle Chronicle, were men who did not know her personally, while Walsingham had an ulterior motive for reviling her, as will become clear. Henry Knighton, the Leicester chronicler whose house was under the patronage of John of Gaunt, and who may well have met Katherine, has nothing really bad to say about her personally, and it is clear that she maintained good relations with the Chapter of Lincoln Cathedral throughout her adult life, and that they were happy to lease a house to her during the years of her ill fame.8 In fact, most of what we can surmise or know of Katherine Swynford suggests she was a remarkable, attractive, fascinating and sympathetic woman. An early request for a private altar strongly suggests a devout religious faith instilled in childhood. By contrast, her long love affair with John of Gaunt implies allure, sensuality, charm, loyalty, emotional depth, and perhaps forwardness and a degree of ambition. She must have relished the material benefits that were to come her way as a result of John's devotion, but she does not seem to have been the most demanding of mistresses, and it is doubtful if she was driven very much by mercenary motives: her love for John was to survive concealment, long separations, social ostracism and public vilification, which argues that it was deep and true. Her admirable discretion and tact helped smooth the path of the lovers, and when tragedy and loss struck, she had sufficient wisdom and strength of character to survive with dignity. We will learn that she cherished strong family ties and was concerned about how others saw her. She was to prove capable, responsible, caring and successful in nearly all her enterprises.

A warm and kindly heart may be evident in Katherine's lasting love for John, and in her apparent affection for children, her own and all those who came into her orbit. She was clearly good with the young, and had, it seems, an innate sensitivity that made it possible for her to create unity from disparity witness the successful bonding of the legitimate heirs of the House of Lancaster with Katherine's own children, her b.a.s.t.a.r.ds by John of Gaunt, and the Chaucers, bonds that surmounted the barriers and taboos created by adultery, death, rank and illegitimacy. Much of this was doubtless due to the powerful influence of the Duke, but Katherine herself must surely also take a great deal of the credit for it.

All this suggests that Katherine learned much from the examples and influence of Queen Philippa and the d.u.c.h.ess Blanche. Froissart said of her in later life that she was 'a woman of such bringing up and honourable demeanour' that she was 'well-deserving' of the respect of those about her. The undoubted esteem in which she was held in the Lancastrian household, and by three kings of England, argues that her integrity and other qualities were recognised, and that she was skilled in courtly accomplishments, sophisticated in her tastes, sociable, courteous, literate, intelligent and a good conversationalist. She would have needed to have been most of these things to become such a respected member of the d.u.c.h.ess's entourage, and later to attract and hold the attention of the Duke. She would also have absorbed the cultivated ambience of the ducal court, in which John of Gaunt actively promoted the education of women and encouraged a love of learning in his wives and daughters.9 It was not unusual for members of royal households to marry each other, nor was it surprising that the husband chosen for Katherine de Roet, a servant of the d.u.c.h.ess of Lancaster, should have been a retainer of the Duke of Lancaster. His name was Sir Hugh Swynford,10 and he was lord of the manors of Coleby and Kettlethorpe in Lincolnshire. The choice of Hugh Swynford suggests that the marriage was arranged by the Duke himself at his wife's instance. Possibly Queen Philippa was consulted, for it was she who had placed the Roet girl with the Lancasters. Marriage to one of John of Gaunt's retainers would certainly have strengthened Katherine's ties to the House of Lancaster.

The Swynford family was an old one, although claims that its ancestry could be traced back to Anglo-Saxon times11 are unsubstantiated. Hugh's forebears probably came from Swinford originally Swine's Ford in Leicestershire, but there is no record of them there in Domesday Book. The family had many branches, and there are numerous references in mediaeval records to its early members, but attempts to discover their exact relationships and make any sense of the family genealogy prior to the fourteenth century have so far proved largely fruitless.12 The only one of Hugh's forebears of whose relationship to him we can be certain is his father, Sir Thomas Swynford, who was probably the son of Sir Robert de Swynford of Burgate, Suffolk, whose arms were the same three gold boars' heads on a field of silver as Sir Hugh Swynford displayed.13 By 1343, Sir Robert Swynford had sold the manor of Burgate; this would have left his heirs landless, and might well explain why, in August 1345, Sir Thomas Swynford acquired from the de Cuppled.y.k.e family14 the manor of Coleby in Lincolnshire, which he held in chief of the King and in part of John of Gaunt, in whose Honour of Richmond it lay.15 Sir Thomas married Nichola, the widow of Sir Ralph Ba.s.set of Weldon.16 From the mid-1340s until 1356, we find him appointed in turn to the shrievalties of Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire and Rutland, while in 1344 he was a Commissioner of the Peace in Bedfordshire, and in 13457 an escheator for that county and for Buckinghamshire.17 Far from keeping the peace, he appears to have rather thrown his weight about: in 1356, he and his falconers caused chaos hunting pigeons on the manor of Barton, in defiance of the reeve's protests.18 That year, Thomas bought from John de la Croy (or Croix) the manor of Kettlethorpe in Lincolshire,19 which was to become the chief seat of the Swynfords until 1498; it would also be Katherine's marital home and become forever a.s.sociated with her. Kettlethorpe was not far from Coleby, which Thomas had held since 1345. In 1357, Thomas and Nichola settled permanently in Lincolnshire,20 where Sir Thomas again served as a Commissioner for the Peace.

Hugh Swynford who is incorrectly named as Otes Swynford in Weever's description of the inscription on Paon de Roet's tomb in St Paul's, in which Philippa de Roet is erroneously called Anne had been born in 1340 at the latest; his father's Inquisition Post Mortem of December 1361, taken in Lincoln, gives his age as twenty-one years and more.21 This made him at least a decade older than Katherine, and possibly the same age as his master the Duke.

Hugh was a soldier by profession 'a shrewd and terrifying fighter'22 and would appear to have begun his career in royal service as a retainer of the Black Prince, for in 1356, he had fought under the Prince at Poitiers, and perhaps been knighted afterwards. It was probably after the Black Prince removed to Aquitaine in 1361 that Hugh had transferred to the retinue of his feudal overlord, the Duke of Lancaster, to whom he owed knight's service.23 It was as well he did so, for when his father, Sir Thomas Swynford, died on 3 November 1361,24 Hugh came into only a poor inheritance, and would have badly needed the money he received as the Duke's retainer and any profits he could make from campaigning. He would also, almost certainly, soon have begun looking about him for a wife to bear him heirs and hopefully boost his social standing and his finances. He had little to offer beyond his knightly status, so Katherine de Roet, the alluring object and recipient of royal esteem and favour, with her family connections and her inheritance in Hainault, would probably have appeared an ideal choice.

For a long time, basing their conclusions on the likely birth date of her son, historians a.s.sumed that Katherine was married to Sir Hugh Swynford around 13667. Yet we know that she was the mother of a daughter called Blanche, who was old enough to be placed in the train of the Lancastrian princesses before 1368, and it appears that Katherine was probably also the mother of one Margaret Swynford, who was of sufficient age to become a nun in 1377.25 Of course, girls sometimes entered convents in their tender years witness Mary, a daughter of Edward I, who became a novice at Amesbury Abbey in 1284, aged six; or Bridget, the youngest daughter of Edward IV, who was perhaps seven when she was placed in Dartford Priory around 1487. But it was more usual for girls to be adolescents of thirteen or fourteen at the time of their reception.26 It would seem that there was a tradition of offering Roet daughters to G.o.d witness the cloistering of Elizabeth de Roet and the eldest daughter of Katherine's sister Philippa; therefore, if Margaret became a nun at the usual age, and Blanche was the eldest child of Katherine and Hugh, the Swynfords are likely to have been married no later than 1362, not long after Hugh came into his inheritance and Katherine reached marriageable age. Certainly they were joined in wedlock before 24 January 1365, as an entry of that date in Bishop Buckingham's register refers to Katherine by her married name.27 Their marriage may have taken place in one of the ducal chapels even perhaps the magnificent chapel of the Savoy.28 Once married, Katherine's arms of three silver wheels on a red background would have been displayed impaling those of her husband, which were three golden boars' heads on a black chevron with a silver background. These are the arms that appeared on her seal of c.1377, which no longer survives.29 It used to be said30 that Katherine married into an ancient landed aristocratic house. Although it is true that the Swynford family was old-established in Lincolnshire, Northamptonshire, Huntingdonshire, Ess.e.x and Suffolk, it was hardly landed and certainly not aristocratic, for its members never rose above the rank of knight. In fact, Hugh was impoverished. He held only two manors, neither of which was profitable, and both had been recently acquired by his father31 hardly ancient wealth by any reckoning, as Katherine was to find out when Hugh first took her to his manor house at Kettlethorpe, which after his marriage he held jointly with his new wife of the King and John Buckingham, Bishop of Lincoln.32 Kettlethorpe was to become inextricably linked to Katherine in her own lifetime; for forty years she was known as the Lady of Kettlethorpe, and her memory is very much alive there today for the many visitors who make the journey some would say pilgrimage to this pretty, quiet but rather isolated Lincolnshire village, which is situated about twenty feet above sea level, and lies twelve miles west of Lincoln, just north of the border with Nottinghamshire. The River Trent flows west of Kettlethorpe, and the Fossd.y.k.e meanders along its eastern and northern boundaries. It is 'a romantic spot, embowered by trees'.33 The manor took its name from a Viking who is said to have settled there in the ninth century, Lincolnshire being part of the Danelaw in Saxon times. His name was Ketil, and the place he lived in became known as Ketil's Thorpe (or village), which over time became corrupted to Kettlethorpe. There is no mention of the settlement in Domesday Book, so it must have been very small, if indeed it still existed in 1086, in which case, the story of the Viking settler may have been an oral tradition preserved in local places such as nearby Newton-on-Trent, which is on record as a Domesday village. In fact, there is no mention of Kettlethorpe in historical doc.u.ments until 1220. The de la Croy family had come into possession of it by 1287.

The present Kettlethorpe Hall incorporates fragments of the mediaeval house that Katherine knew, and is still surrounded by a moat. All that survives of the original hall are interior walls in the two barrel-vaulted cellars, the remains of a pa.s.sage from those cellars that is reputed to have led to the church opposite, a blocked fourteenth-century doorway and some stonework on the southern elevations, a few carved heads and, standing apart, a ruined yet imposing fourteenth-century embattled and b.u.t.tressed stone gatehouse with sunken mouldings, a survival probably from the 1370s, when Katherine was converting Kettlethorpe into a residence of some magnificence. The gatehouse was reconstructed in the early eighteenth century, but not entirely successfully: the lower stones were rea.s.sembled authentically enough, but the upper parts owe much to the imagination of the builder who carried out the restoration. To the left is a mediaeval mounting-block, three steps high. We might imagine Katherine standing by it with a stirrup cup, bidding Sir Hugh farewell as he rode off to war.

When Katherine came to Kettlethorpe, after living in luxurious royal palaces since her childhood, she must surely have been dismayed by its poverty. The place was in serious disrepair. Even in 1372, after she had lived there on and off for the best part of a decade, it was 'ruinous, and the land sandy and stony and out of cultivation'; the only crops it would support were hay, flax and hemp, while the meadow was frequently flooded by the overflow from the nearby River Trent.

As lord of the manor, Hugh had the right to appoint priests to the twelfth-century parish church of St Peter and St Paul that stood to the north of the house,34 a privilege that Katherine herself would one day exercise; in March 1362, Hugh presented one Robert de Northwood as rector. Katherine would have had frequent dealings with Northwood, who may have acted as her confessor when she was at Kettlethorpe; and because the manor population was small, she probably came to know everyone else quite well too.

Kettlethorpe had appurtenances in the nearby villages of Laughterton, Newton-on-Trent and Fenton, all of which lay about a mile distant in different directions. In all, the Swynford holdings in the area comprised around three thousand acres, most of which was forest prime hunting ground for the lords of the manor.35 And we may be certain that when she was not pregnant, Katherine, like most ladies of rank, rode out with her husband and helped to put food on the table.

Kettlethorpe was Sir Hugh Swynford's chief residence, but not far off was his manor of Coleby, which was spectacularly perched high up on the Lincoln Cliff escarpment, and commanded beautiful views of the Witham valley. It lay seven miles south of Lincoln, to the west of Ermine Street, the old Roman road that ran from London to Lincoln and York. The manor, which Hugh and Katherine now held jointly, was divided into two equal parts, each comprising roughly ninety acres of land and fifteen acres of pasture. In 1367, it was recorded that the part of this manor known as the South Hall, or Southall, which yielded 54s.4d (785) each year in rents paid by free tenants, was held of John of Gaunt as Earl of Richmond by service, or rent, of 2s (29) per annum or 'a sorrel sparrowhawk'. The other part of the manor, the North Hall, or Northall, was held in chief of the King, by service of half a knight's fee; as far back as 1086, the manor of 'Colebi' had been recorded in Domesday Book as the property of the Crown. Earlier, like Kettlethorpe, it had been a Danish settlement, under a man called Koli, from whom it took its name; and earlier still, it may have been colonised by the Romans, for it is near Ermine Street and Roman coins have been found in the vicinity. Much later, in the twelfth century, the manor had been held by William the Lyon, King of Scots. At that time, a Gilbertine priory dedicated to St Katherine was established in the village. A windmill probably one of several was in existence in 1361.

Hugh could never have relied on receiving the rents due from his Coleby tenants, for there was little prospect of any yield, let alone a surplus, from the land, which was poor. In 1361, when he inherited it, Coleby was a dismal place, worth only 37s.10d (601), less than a third of its value when Sir Thomas Swynford had bought it in 1345.'The soil is hard, stony and uncultivated because of its barrenness, the dovecote and windmill are in ruins', and no profit could be raised from them until they were repaired; the meadow was hard, choked with brambles and too dry to be of any benefit.36 Given these circ.u.mstances, Hugh's tenants may not always have found the means to pay their rents, which might explain why, a decade later, in 1372, the manor was still barren and impoverished and worth nothing.

Apart from the Saxon church with its later mediaeval additions the spire is fifteenth century no buildings from Katherine's time survive in Coleby. The earliest is Old House in the High Street, which is Tudor. The original manor house was the North Hall, which lay two hundred metres north of the village, and had been built in the eleventh century by the then lady of the manor, Judith of Boulogne, Countess of Northumbria and Huntingdon, a niece of William the Conqueror and the ancestress of William the Lyon. The present Coleby Hall, built in 1628, stands on the site of the North Hall, and its walls were raised on the stone foundations of the earlier building. In 1372, in a royal writ a.s.signing Katherine her dower, the North Hall was described as having at the west end of its great hall 'a chamber called the West Chamber', a wardrobe for the storage of clothes, jewels and other personal items, and 'le faux chambre', which literally translates as 'the false room'; one is tempted to wonder if this was just an alcove (which is not a proper room) or if there was a concealed room leading off the West Chamber. Underneath these chambers were cellars for the storage of provisions. There was a kitchen, which was perhaps at the eastern end of the hall, a cowhouse and an adjoining croft known as Belgarthes: 'the fair sward'. The western chambers of the hall overlooked part of the garden. Nearby was the Saxon church of All Saints.37 It was a far cry from the Savoy.

Only a few miles from Kettlethorpe and Coleby lies the great city of Lincoln, which Katherine came to know and probably love very well: her husband's family was well known in its civic society, she herself would reside there for several years, and at least one of her children was born there.

In the fourteenth century, Lincoln was a rich and prosperous city, dramatically situated on a high ridge. It was dominated by its castle, which had been built by William the Conqueror in 1068, and its spectacular cathedral. Between the two lay the upper town centre 'the Bail' and surrounding the cathedral was the walled close with its substantial clergy houses and splendid twelfth-century Bishop's Palace, which boasted three halls. The close was accessed from the Bail through the now-ruined Exchequer Gate. Just beyond the gate, Steep Hill sloped dizzyingly down to the lower parts of the town, which were known as 'the City', and on that hill stood two twelfth-century Norman houses, one of them the famous Jew's House, as well as several other notable buildings. The mediaeval Guildhall stood near the bottom of Steep Hill. Lincoln was a great trading centre, annually hosted six fairs, and boasted fifty churches.

Lincoln Castle, in which extensive Norman buildings still survive within the walls, was then surrounded by deep ditches and high banks. Its main entrance was to the east, facing the Exchequer Gate, while the western gate of the castle led to open countryside. The sh.e.l.l keep was known as St Lucy's Tower, and stood on a mound raised around 1200. In the thirteenth century, a vaulted, horseshoe-shaped tower known as Cobb Hall had been inserted into the north curtain wall of the castle. In Katherine's day, the castle precincts were part of the Bail.

Lincoln Cathedral was at that time the third largest in England. The original Norman structure had been destroyed by a fire in 1141 and an earthquake in 1185, and had been rebuilt from 1192 onwards in the Early English style by St Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln. In Katherine's time the cathedral was a ma.s.sive edifice with three Perpendicular towers and a magnificent west front adorned with myriad sculptured figures; solid on its high hill, it soared majestically over the city and could be seen for miles around. Pilgrims came flocking to make their devotions at the wondrous silver shrine of St Hugh, a masterpiece of intricate stone tracery encrusted with precious metals and gems, which reposed in the beautiful Angel Choir at the cathedral's east end; this choir had been built in the 1260s and was named after the carved angels with which it was lavishly decorated. For Hugh Swynford, the shrine of his patron saint must have been a very special place, to be visited often, while for Katherine, the cathedral had an altar to her own name-saint,38 and housed two precious objects of special devotion: a finger that had reputedly belonged to St Katherine, and a chain with which the saint is said to have bound up the Devil.

John of Gaunt also had strong links with Lincoln. At the age of two, he had been granted the earldom of Richmond, which incorporated lands in Lincolnshire. At three, he had come to Lincoln Cathedral with the King his father and his brother the Black Prince, and been admitted to its confraternity, a group of lay benefactors who were prayed for by the cathedral clergy in grat.i.tude for their gifts;39 John was to prove very generous to the cathedral over the years, and in his will would refer to 'a certain devotion' he cherished for its patroness, the Virgin Mary. In the Angel Choir lay the visceral tomb of his great-grandmother, Eleanor of Castile, the beloved wife of Edward I.40 At twenty-one, John had acquired the earldom of Lincoln itself, with its vast estates, in right of his wife Blanche; in this capacity, he grew familiar with the great and gentle families of the shire, and numbered several of their members among his retinue. He would in time forge even closer links to Lincoln and the surrounding area through his involvement with Katherine Swynford.

As Earl of Lincoln, John was hereditary Constable of Lincoln Castle, yet it is not known if he ever lodged in the castle on his brief visits to the city, or if he stayed in the Bishop's Palace, a house in the cathedral close or one in the town. It was perhaps the latter, since the castle could only offer somewhat outdated accommodation.41 Tradition long had it that John of Gaunt owned a palace in Lincoln, an ancient stone mansion that stood to the west of the High Street in Wigford, a southern suburb of the city. The 'palace' was situated on the west side of the churchyard of the Guild of St Anne, which adjoined St Andrew's Church. According to an engraving of 1726 by Samuel and Nathaniel Buck, it was a mediaeval house with stone pinnacles and windows of the Decorated period; beneath a gable in the centre of the extended battlemented front facade was affixed a carved freestone shield bearing the arms of John of Gaunt, surmounted by his helm and mantling. Another old print reveals that the south range of this house was built in the later Perpendicular style, possibly in the fourteenth century. It boasted b.u.t.tresses, a battlemented cornice, and square-headed two-light windows. All this would be commensurate with the house having existed in John's lifetime; probably it had been altered during the centuries since his death. Buck tells us that 'the castle was his, but standing much exposed to cold winds, and a place of office for the public service'; because of these drawbacks, 'that Prince probably built this below the hill for warmth, and for the use of his family and domestics, while he resided in this most ancient city'. Buck claims that John stayed here mainly in his latter years, and unsurprisingly, Katherine Swynford is also said to have had the use of the house.42 There is little contemporary evidence to connect John of Gaunt with this building; nor did the early-sixteenth-century antiquarian John Leland a.s.sociate him with it; instead, he says this 'goodly house' belonged to the Suttons, who were the richest and most prominent mercantile family in Lincoln in the late Middle Ages and held lands of the Duke in the county. However, in 1586, the house was called 'John of Gaunt's Palace' by William Camden, the Elizabethan antiquary who spent fifteen years researching the historic buildings of England,43 and both Buck and the antiquary William Stukeley, writing in the 1720s, refer to it by that name. But later, in 1784, a Swiss artist called Samuel Hieronymous Grimm labelled his drawing as 'the pretended house of John of Gaunt at Lincoln'. Today, historians are inclined to believe that it did not have any connection with the Duke.44 John of Gaunt never stayed in Lincoln for long enough to justify the building of a residence there, and there is no reference to this house in his registers, but these are of course incomplete. Yet it was certainly his coat of arms that Buck engraved, and it is indeed possible that it was for reasons of comfort that John lodged in this