Katherine Swynford Part 7

It was virtually unheard of at that time for a royal duke to marry his mistress, especially one who was the daughter of a humble foreign knight, and John could have been in no doubt that the union would prove highly controversial. Twice he had entered into wedlock for political reasons: once successfully, the other time far less so. Even now, at fifty-five and old by contemporary standards, he was an eligible prize in the European marriage market, and could easily have made a political alliance that favoured his cherished peace process with France, or an advantageous union with an heiress that would handsomely augment the Lancastrian domains. That he did not pursue such alliances speaks volumes. Instead, he was resolved to make the unusual, highly unconventional and indeed brave choice of marrying for love. There can be little doubt that his feelings for Katherine played a large part in his decision Froissart says he 'had always loved and maintained this Lady Katherine', and the settlements that he was to make on her during their marriage are ample evidence of his feelings for her.

But there was more to it than that. 'From affection to [their] children, the Duke married their mother,' Froissart adds, making it seem as if Katherine really did not come into the equation, although the chronicler may have drawn this conclusion himself, unable, along with many other people, to comprehend that the mighty Duke of Lancaster had so far forgotten himself as to marry for love. Yet love for Katherine aside, John's desire to see the Beauforts legitimised was surely a powerful enough motive for marrying her, and perhaps just as important to the Duke. They were now growing up and proving themselves able and gifted, and he must have wanted them to enjoy the high offices of Church and State for which their royal blood befitted them and for which he had had them educated; and he perhaps also had a view to forging advantageous n.o.ble alliances through them. He may, too, in the wake of that series of tragic deaths, have felt the hand of time upon him; he was fifty-four when Constance died, and as we have seen aged beyond his years, although he must have been reasonably fit at this time because he was contemplating going crusading against the Turks in distant lands; nevertheless, he perhaps felt an impulsion to seize whatever happiness he could while he could still enjoy life, and secure his children's future before he died. These things, Katherine and the children, were clearly so important to him that he was prepared to brave public opinion to have his desire.

It was almost certainly with this aim in mind that, probably before he went abroad, John made provision for his eldest son by Katherine, and for the Chaucers. It was possibly in 1394, and certainly before 28 September 1397, that John Beaufort was married to Margaret Holland, daughter of Thomas Holland, Earl of Kent, the son of the late Princess Joan by her first husband; Margaret was therefore a niece of the King, and she had been born about 13815. By 1395, in order to provide for the young couple, the Duke had purchased for John Beaufort the reversion of the manors of Curry Rivel, Langport and Martock in Somerset.19 Around the same time, John made a gift of 20 marks (2,917) to Thomas Chaucer, doubled his pension to 20 (8,750), and paid 100 (43,749) to secure his marriage to a wealthy heiress, Maud, the daughter of Sir John Burghersh of Ewelme; she came from a respected baronial family and brought him large estates in Surrey and Oxfordshire.20 Such lavish generosity towards Katherine's nephew indicates not only a desire to please her, but also a genuine appreciation of Thomas Chaucer's worth. Nor was Thomas's father Geoffrey, still ensconced in the wilds of Somerset, forgotten, for it was during this year of 13945 that Henry of Derby sent him a grant of money and a fur-lined scarlet robe.

Summoned by the King, who wanted the Duke's support for the French marriage alliance that Thomas of Woodstock was so hotly opposing, John of Gaunt,21 armed with the Pope's brief, returned to England in December 1395. He was no longer feeling in the best of health, and the crossing from Calais to Kent must have been disagreeable, even painful, for him: for when, late in November, he had visited Brittany and opened ultimately unsuccessful negotiations for a marriage between his grandson, Henry of Monmouth, and Duke John de Montfort's daughter, he had declined an invitation to attend the wedding as 'it will be very hard-going and very uncomfortable to him to sail'.22 This suggests he was suffering some bodily infirmity at this time, possibly the recurrent malady to which he was to refer in 1398, which may be one reason why he made a short pilgrimage to the shrine of St Thomas a Becket at Canterbury upon returning to England, no doubt to give thanks for his safe return home, pray for relief for his complaint and ask the saint's blessing on his coming marriage.

John was still in Canterbury at the beginning of January 1396, for his son Henry sent him nineteen ells of velvet there as a New Year gift.23 He left soon afterwards for Langley, Hertfordshire, to pay his respects to Richard II and seek his permission to marry Katherine Swynford. More than twenty years later, Walsingham claimed that the marriage came as a surprise to the King, but as his foremost subject, it is hardly likely that John of Gaunt, that great traditionalist and pillar of the monarchy, would have omitted his feudal obligation to obtain royal sanction for the marriage to go ahead. It is also doubtful if the Duke's request came as a surprise to Richard, who apparently readily gave his consent.24 His manner towards his uncle, however, although cordial, was noticeably cool and, some said, 'without love'.25 He wanted John's backing, it was true, but he did not want him dominating political affairs as before. This change in Richard marked the beginning of the end of John's political influence, which would now slowly but steadily decline; his health, of course, could also have been a factor. Nevertheless, he was to maintain a constant presence at court in the coming years, and would witness every royal charter up till July 1398.26 Katherine herself must have been in Lincolnshire at this time, probably living at the Chancery, although she was still exercising authority as the Lady of Kettlethorpe on 4 December, she presented a new rector to the parish church there. This was none other than John Huntman, the Chancellor of Lincoln Cathedral, he who had had to seek alternative accommodation in 13912 because Katherine was in possession of his official residence, the Chancery. In appointing him Rector of Kettlethorpe, was Katherine attempting to compensate in some way for the inconvenience she had caused?

John did not delay long at court, but, having obtained the King's permission to depart, set off north to Lincolnshire, to Katherine, to make her his wife without further delay. They 'publicly contracted marriage'27 very soon after the Octave of the Epiphany,28 which fell on 13 January 1396 possibly their wedding took place on the 14th,29 or even as late as February,30 which is far less likely. The ceremony in Lincoln Cathedral was probably conducted before the splendid chancel screen by the ageing Bishop Buckingham, who is known to have been in Lincoln later that month.31 Evidently John's health had improved, for, as he and Katherine later confided to the Pope, their marriage was consummated 'by carnal copulation'.32 There can be no doubt that they were lovers once more.

Katherine was now the d.u.c.h.ess of Lancaster and, in the absence of a queen, the first lady in the land a position she could not expect to enjoy for long, because the coming spring would see the signing of a new peace with France that was to be cemented by the marriage of Richard II to Charles VI's six-year-old daughter Isabella.

Katherine's feelings at this time may only be imagined. They must have encompa.s.sed love and grat.i.tude with regard to the man who was now her husband, and perhaps a sense of relief that the long years of self-denial, steadfastness, waiting and uncertainty were over not to mention triumph and elation at having come to a safe harbour at last, and at making such a spectacular marriage in the process, something that no other royal mistress of that age and only a privileged few in other periods would ever achieve. She was set up for life, and would never again have to worry about financial security.33 There was, too, the comforting knowledge that the way was now clear for her Beaufort children to be formally legitimised, and that their futures were secure as indeed were those of Thomas Swynford and Katherine's Chaucer relatives.

But Katherine must also have been aware that society at large might not view her as the most suitable wife for the Duke. Notoriety and a tarnished reputation had never been desirable qualities in royal wives; moreover, John was a prince of the highest rank and renown, and could have advantageously made a grand marriage for profit or policy; that he should stoop to marry a woman of far lower degree, however highly regarded she was by his family, was unthinkable. But he had defied convention and done so, and now here she was, exalted above all other women in the realm.

In order to emphasise her royal status, and perhaps at the same time hopefully to obliterate memories of her immoral past, Katherine a.s.sumed as her coat of arms the three gold wheels of St Katherine, her patron saint, who was strongly a.s.sociated with royalty, virtue and erudition in the popular imagination. These wheels were blazoned on a red shield, and they would have been prominently displayed on hangings, trappings, furnishings, clothing and livery badges. They appeared in profusion on the vestments she was to give to Lincoln Cathedral, and they also adorned her tomb there,34 while the image of St Katherine appears in the Beaufort Hours, a ma.n.u.script commissioned after 1401 by John Beaufort, who clearly wanted to honour his mother and a.s.sociate her memory with the saint.35 The conversion of the silver Roet wheels into gold Katherine wheels suggests both a deep devotion to her name-saint, and a conscious effort on the part of the new d.u.c.h.ess to construct a far more respectable public image for herself.36 It is highly likely that the Duke was also involved in this mediaeval version of 'spin-doctoring', or was even the inspiration behind it. After all, he had a vested interest in the heraldic emblems of the Lancastrian inheritance, and in the way people regarded his wife, whose character and demeanour reflected on his own n.o.bility and honour; at the very least, Katherine would have had to consult him on this matter and seek his approval married women in the Middle Ages enjoyed little autonomy, even if they had become used to making their own decisions during a long widowhood, as Katherine clearly had. One may infer from the sources quoted in this chapter, however, that John was a loving husband eager to make his lady happy. It may be that it was he who, after their marriage, arranged for the reburial of her father in St Paul's Cathedral, or for the erection of a memorial tablet on Sir Paon de Roet's existing grave there.

It was to Katherine's advantage that 'she had a perfect knowledge of court etiquette, because she had been brought up in princely courts continually since her youth'; this made her eminently well-qualified for her new rank,37 and it would have given her confidence as she came to grips with the realities of her new status.

The newly wedded Duke and d.u.c.h.ess made a short trip up north together before facing the court; possibly John wished to test the water by taking Katherine on a tour of his domains. By 23 January, they were lodging at Pontefract, a place that might have held bitter but long-exorcised memories for them, but which clearly became a favoured retreat during their marriage. High on its escarpment, the castle enjoyed commanding views of the River Aire; the royal lodgings were in the turreted trefoil-shaped donjon, which the Duke had had heightened twenty years earlier, so that it dwarfed all the other towers. Here he and Katherine would have resided in great comfort and luxury, for he had lavished huge sums of money on the place.38 By 10 March, they had moved north-westwards to Rothwell Castle, a thirteenth-century royal hunting lodge owned by the Duke, which lay hard by his manor of Leeds. They stayed there until the 31st,39 before travelling south.

It may have been at this time it was certainly in 1396 that they broke their journey at Coventry, where they were admitted as members of the prosperous Guild of the Holy Trinity, St Mary, St John the Baptist and St Katherine. The ceremony either took place in St Mary's Guild Hall (constructed between 1340 and 1460) in the heart of the town, or at the Guild's chapel in the collegiate church dedicated to St John the Baptist, which had been founded by John's grandmother, Queen Isabella, the widow of Edward II; in 1344, she had given land in Coventry to the Guild of St John for the founding of the chapel. This Guild had later amalgamated with those of St Katherine and Holy Trinity. Since their patron saints were both represented, John and Katherine would have felt a special affinity with this Guild.40 The new d.u.c.h.ess made her debut at court some time in April, probably at the St George's Day celebrations, for she was issued with Garter robes that year. Her appearance there, and the announcement of her marriage to the Duke, gave rise to stunned shock and widespread disapproval, for most people regarded it as a disastrous misalliance:41 'the which wedding caused many a man's wondering for, as it was said, he had held her long before'.42 'Everyone was amazed at the miracle of this event,' wrote Walsingham with some irony, 'since the fortune of such a woman in no way matched a magnate of such exalted rank.' Froissart says the marriage 'caused much astonishment', in France as well as in England, 'for she was of humble birth, far unmeet to match with his Highness, and nothing comparable in honour to his two former wives, the d.u.c.h.ess Blanche and d.u.c.h.ess Constance,' while he was the richest, most powerful and most eligible catch in the land. In the fifteenth century, the chronicler John Capgrave recalled how the Duke had married Katherine 'against the opinion of many men'. Even in our own time, such a marriage would cause comment. 'Men of t.i.tle and privilege simply do not marry their mistresses,' observed the late Queen Mother, so we may imagine how much greater an outcry the union of John and Katherine provoked in 1396.

'When the news of this marriage reached the great ladies of England, such as the d.u.c.h.ess of Gloucester, the Countess of Derby [sic; Mary de Bohun had, of course, died in 1394], the Countess of Arundel [a Mortimer, and a descendant of Edward III] and other ladies with royal blood in their veins, they were surprised and shocked, considering it scandalous, and thought the Duke much to blame. They said that he had sadly disgraced himself by marrying his concubine, a woman of light character' for such they apparently still perceived Katherine to be. Many thought John of Gaunt a fool, including perhaps Chaucer, who was the same age: around this time, in a poem dedicated to his friend Henry Scogan, he wrote that he was beginning to see himself as beyond the age for love and marriage. What, then, did he think of the Duke?

What rankled most with the great ladies was that the new d.u.c.h.ess of Lancaster would take precedence before them. 'Since she has got so far,' they sniffed, 'it will mean that she will rank as the second lady in England, and the young Queen will be dishonourably accompanied by her.' But they were plotting their revenge. 'For their parts, they would leave her to do the honours of the court by herself,' they declared, 'for they would never enter any place where she was. They themselves might be disgraced if they permitted a woman of so base a birth, and concubine to the Duke for a very long time, inside and outside his marriage with the Princess Constance, to have place before them. Their hearts would burst with vexation, and rightly so!'43 The two people who were the most incensed and 'outrageous' about the marriage were Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, 'a man of an high mind and a stout stomach' who 'misliked his brother matching so meanly' and considered him 'a doting fool', and Thomas's wife, Eleanor de Bohun. 'They considered that the Duke of Lancaster had overstepped all bounds when he took his concubine to wife, and said they would never recognise her marriage, or call her lady or sister.' However, John's other brother, Edmund of Langley, 'soon got over it, for he was most often in the company of the King' who, we may infer, supported the marriage 'and his brother of Lancaster. The Duke of Gloucester was of different stuff, for he respected no one's opinions.'44 To make matters worse, by means that are not recorded, the existence of an impediment to the marriage, that of compaternity, somehow became 'publicly known', and because John and Katherine could produce 'no apostolic letters authorising its dispensation' they had been given only an oral brief, not a full dispensation they became 'apprehensive' that their marriage could 'very likely be impugned, and an annulment follow, and grave scandals arise therefrom'. They therefore 'made humble supplication' once more to Pope Boniface, 'that we deign of our apostolic benignity to provide for them concerning the aforesaid' and p.r.o.nounce on the legitimacy of their children.45 They must then have spent many anxious months awaiting his reply, and hoping that no English bishop would see fit in the meantime to enquire into the validity of their union.

Richard II, however, was welcoming to Katherine; it was he who had issued her with Garter robes so that she could partic.i.p.ate in the St George's Day ceremonies. After those were completed, the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess moved to London, where they probably took up residence at Ely Place. There, on 16 May, John a.s.signed Katherine the generous sum of 600 (243,620) per annum, to be paid by his Receiver-General, for the expenses of her wardrobe,46 obviously antic.i.p.ating that his new d.u.c.h.ess would dress herself and furnish her apartments as lavishly as her rank merited. Like John's previous wives, Katherine had her own separate wardrobe and household; we know nothing of its composition, however, or the names of her officers and ladies.47 In June, the King granted his uncle a charter of liberties for the Duchy of Lancaster, and proposed that his future Queen's sister, Mich.e.l.le of Valois, be married to John's grandson, Henry of Monmouth.48 Richard also supported John in forbidding Henry of Derby to brave the dangers of a campaign in Friesland with the Duke of Gueldres.49 John's worsening health may account for his fears for the safety of his heir, who had been on perilous expeditions in the past, some financed by his father;50 yet his anxiety did not apparently extend to his younger son, John Beaufort, who went crusading against the Turks in Hungary and Bulgaria in 1396, and in September was present at the siege of Nicopolis, a campaign that ended in the ma.s.s capture and slaughter of the Christian army and left Bulgaria under Muslim domination for five centuries. John Beaufort, fortunately, came home to tell the tale.

Before long, the storm that followed upon her marriage abated, and Katherine became accepted at court and within the royal family. This probably had a lot to do with Richard II's support and his improving relations with John of Gaunt, but it was undoubtedly due in no small part to Katherine's own personal qualities, her discretion and dignity, and her well-bred understanding of how to conduct herself as a d.u.c.h.ess. 'The lady herself was a woman of such bringing up and honourable demeanour that envy could not but in the end give place to well-deserving.'51 Above all, 'she loved the Duke of Lancaster and the children she had with him, and she showed it'.52 None could have impugned her sincerity.

In July 1396, with the conclusion of the new treaties between England and France, preparations were set in train at last for the King's marriage to Isabella of Valois. Early in August, John apparently went to Calais with the King for a meeting with the Duke of Burgundy, returning to England by the 23rd.53 Some time before Michaelmas, perhaps at Katherine's request, the Duke arranged for two pipes of wine to be conveyed from London to the abbey of Barking, and there given to her daughter Margaret Swynford;54 and before 15 September, he took Katherine to St Albans Abbey to visit Abbot Thomas de la Mare, who was dying after ten years of chronic ill health brought on by an attack of the plague.55 The Abbot had been a friend of the Black Prince and the exiled King John II of France, and would have shared many memories with John of Gaunt.56 The purpose of the visit was no doubt to ask for the Abbot's blessing and say a sad farewell. Later that month, the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess were at Hertford Castle, where they had probably been lodging for most of the month.

Meanwhile, on 1 September, in Rome, Boniface IX had p.r.o.nounced their marriage valid: We therefore [he wrote], who freely seek the peace and tranquillity and health of mind of all Christ's faithful, especially of those who are ill.u.s.trious because of sublime dignity, desiring to avoid such scandals to the extent that we can under G.o.d, and wishing salubriously to provide otherwise for the abovementioned circ.u.mstances, being inclined to such supplications, we ratify, approve and confirm by apostolic authority the aforesaid marriage contracted between John and Katherine, and we reinforce it by the protection of the present doc.u.ment.

He then proceeded to p.r.o.nounce on the legitimacy of their children: And so that the same John and Katherine may freely and licitly remain in the said marriage contracted between them, the impediment and other matters described above completely notwithstanding, we dispense them through the same authority by the tenor of the present letters, declaring legitimate offspring received and to be received from this marriage.

This clearly refers to the Beauforts and to any other children that might be born to the couple obviously the Pope had no idea that Katherine was about forty-six and highly unlikely to become pregnant again. But he had provided for that contingency anyway, and he concluded his letter with the warning that anyone presuming to question the validity of the marriage would incur 'the indignation of Almighty G.o.d'.57 That, of course, was sufficient to silence any critics, and John and Katherine would doubtless have been quite relieved to receive this dispensation. It may have arrived in England before they left for France, which was shortly after 7 October.

The King having already crossed the Channel, Henry of Derby and Joan Beaufort accompanied their father and Katherine when they travelled to Calais in October. On the 27th, at a lavish ceremony near the town, attended by much pomp and pageantry (the wedding celebrations were rumoured to have cost Richard 200,000, more than 81 million in today's values), the two kings met; Charles VI had already experienced attacks of the madness that was to blight his life and reign, but he was enjoying a lucid interval on this occasion, and cordial pleasantries were exchanged.

On the 28th, with John and Katherine and a host of other lords and ladies looking on, little Isabella was carried to her father's pavilion and formally handed over by Charles VI to her bridegroom, who thanked him 'for so gracious and honourable a gift' and kissed the little girl. He then 'commended her to the d.u.c.h.esses of Lancaster and Gloucester' the senior royal ladies 'and the Countesses of Huntingdon and Stafford and other ladies', including Joan Beaufort, who all received her with great joy before escorting her to Calais in twelve packed chariots.58 Evidently the d.u.c.h.ess of Gloucester had abandoned her resolve to have nothing to do with Katherine, while the latter's prominent role in the ceremonies demonstrates how quickly she had been accepted by the establishment and how respectable she had become.

The little Queen had already been a.s.signed a French gouvernante, Lady de Coucy,59 and it was this lady who took charge of her and who was her sole companion in her richly appointed chariot on that ride to Calais. Of course Katherine was one of the chief ladies in attendance on Isabella and would have joined the other n.o.ble ladies in a.s.sisting the bride in her wedding preparations. But her a.s.sociation with Isabella was not limited to that, for Froissart, who was well informed about events at Richard II's court at this time, later stated that she 'had been some time the companion of the young Queen of England', and that she remained so until the late summer of 1397. She evidently took on this role at the time of Isabella's marriage and her influence would have been invaluable during the period immediately following it, when the court was travelling back to England and Isabella was being initiated into her new position. Who better to act as her companion and mentor than the d.u.c.h.ess of Lancaster, the second lady in the land, who had had experience of looking after royal princesses, and who was clearly good with children?

Katherine, along with her daughter Joan Beaufort, the d.u.c.h.ess of Gloucester and the Countess of Huntingdon, was given a gold livery collar to wear at the royal wedding.60 A heavy chain denoting rank, worn to proclaim the wearer's affiliation to some king or great lord, it might have been adorned with the Lancastrian SS links, but is more likely to have been bestowed by the King and to have incorporated his white hart emblem, and perhaps fleurs-de-lis in honour of the bride.

On 4 November, in the church of St Nicholas at Calais, Isabella was married to Richard II by Thomas Arundel, the new Archbishop of Canterbury; she was then not quite seven years old, and not a little precocious 'it was pretty to see her, young as she was, practising how to act the Queen'.61 The ceremony was followed by sumptuous feasting.

The King and Queen (her dolls packed away with her trousseau) and all their party, including John and Katherine, crossed back to Dover in November, the voyage taking just three hours. They dined and slept at Dover Castle the first night, then made their way towards London via Canterbury, Rochester, Dartford and Eltham, where the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Lancaster and the other lords and ladies presented costly gifts to Isabella before taking their leave of the royal couple and hastening ahead to make ready for the young Queen's state entry into London.

On 13 November, Isabella made her way in triumph to the Tower, and on the following day, she was ceremoniously conducted to the King at Westminster; such were the crowds in the capital that nine people were crushed to death.62 It appears she was never crowned a summons to her coronation on Epiphany Sunday 1397 survives,63 and an unreliable London chronicle states she was crowned on 8 January,64 but there is no other evidence for such a momentous event. John and Katherine entertained her at their London 'hostel' Ely Place probably late in 1396 or early in 1397, the Duke presenting her with a ma.s.sive gold cup and basin, while Katherine gave her a much smaller cup, more suitable for a child to use.65 Isabella spent most of what was to prove a short married life in the care of Lady de Coucy at Windsor Castle or Eltham Palace, indulgently treated by her husband, of whom she became inordinately fond.

Papal confirmation of the marriage of John and Katherine not only put paid once and for all to the nasty rumours and backbiting, but also had an enormously beneficial impact on the lives of the Beauforts. Joan Beaufort had recently been widowed her husband, Robert Ferrers, died some time between May 1395 and November 1396 and she was evidently now viewed as a highly desirable bride, for in November 1396, probably as soon as her parents returned to England, the powerful northern baron, Ralph Neville, 6th Baron of Raby, married her as his second wife. John of Gaunt, who was clearly pleased to have the thirty-two-year-old Neville as a son-in-law and ally, settled a handsome annuity of 206.13s.4d (89,914) on the couple for life.66 Neville's estates were in Durham and Yorkshire, and Joan was to make her home there. His first wife, Margaret Stafford, who had died in June that year, had borne him twelve children, so Joan, at just nineteen, became stepmother to a sizeable family on her marriage; yet those children, as will be seen, would have little cause to love her in the future.

It was probably at the request of John of Gaunt that in January 1397, the Pope issued a Bull appointing Henry Beaufort Dean of Wells Cathedral in Somerset, launching the twenty-year-old cleric on what was to prove a spectacular and meteoric career in the Church. John also pressed the King, with whom he was now on the best of terms, and who was desirous of his continuing support against the war lobby, to regularise the position of the Beauforts, and on 6 February, 'yielding to the prayers of your father', Richard issued Letters Patent formally legitimising them in law: To our most dear cousins, the n.o.ble men, John the knight, Henry the clerk, Thomas the young gentleman, and to our beloved damsel the n.o.ble Joan Beaufort, the most dear relatives of our uncle, the n.o.ble John, Duke of Lancaster, born our lieges, greeting, and the favour of our royal majesty. Whilst internally considering how incessantly and with what honours we are graced by the very useful and sincere affection of our aforesaid uncle, and by the wisdom of his counsel, we think it proper and fit that, for the sake of his merits, and in contemplation of his favours, we should enrich you (who are endowered by Nature with great probity and honesty of life and behaviour, and are begotten of royal blood, and by the divine gift are adorned with many virtues) with the strength of our royal prerogative of favour and grace.67 It was a gesture calculated to ensure the Duke's continuing friendship and loyalty. For the Pope's brief legitimising the Beauforts, although morally satisfactory, carried no weight under the laws of inheritance in England: it was purely a spiritual expunging of the stain of b.a.s.t.a.r.dy, and could not lift the legal bar to them inheriting lands or t.i.tles. What was required was an Act of Parliament confirming their legitimacy in common law, and this Richard secured.68 The King's Letters Patent were read out on 6 February 1397 in Parliament by Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury;69 then, on the 9th, it appears that a 'mantle ceremony' was performed in the Parliament chamber, with the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess and their four offspring standing together beneath a mantle known as a 'care cloth'; normally, when the single parents of b.a.s.t.a.r.ds married, they and their children stood under the care cloth during the wedding ceremony. Even so, only the Church recognised them as legitimate; feudal inheritances were strictly safeguarded from b.a.s.t.a.r.d interlopers, and under English common law, up until 1920, 'mantle' children could not inherit property. In the case of the Beauforts, the care cloth was used symbolically,70 while an Act unique in English history was pa.s.sed confirming their legitimisation and declaring them fully capable in law of inheriting 'whatsoever dignities, honours, pre-eminences, status, ranks and offices, public and private, perpetual and temporal, feudal and n.o.ble there may be, as fully, freely and lawfully as if you were born in lawful wedlock'.71 Being formally declared legitimate facilitated the full acceptance of the Beauforts into the royal House and removed all barriers to their preferment in the peerage and the Church, and further improved their prospects, literally overnight in the case of the chivalrous John Beaufort, for on 10 February the King created him Earl of Somerset, himself girding him with the sword and placing on his shoulders a cloak of velvet, 'a garment of honour'.72 That April, John Beaufort would be made a Knight of the Garter. Formerly, he had borne a shield of blue and white (the Lancastrian livery colours, and now his own too) differenced by the red bend sinister of b.a.s.t.a.r.dy charged with the arms of Lancaster; now he took for his arms the quartered leopards and lilies of England with a segmented border in blue and white. It was probably at this time too that he adopted the famous portcullis badge that would later feature so prominently in Tudor heraldry.73 Katherine, the herald's daughter, must have felt wonderfully gratified to see her children legitimised and her son a belted earl. The wits of Richard II's court, however, derisively referred to the Beauforts as 'Fairborn', an interpretation of their name that was still being used ironically a century later,74 proof that the taint of b.a.s.t.a.r.dy still clung to the family. Notwithstanding this, the legitimisation of the Beauforts was to have ma.s.sive implications for the future of the monarchy, and indeed for the history of England itself.

The next day, 11 February, the King licensed John of Gaunt to settle a jointure on Katherine, namely the estates he had received from the Crown in 1372 in exchange for the earldom of Richmond. These lay mainly in Yorkshire, Norfolk and Suss.e.x, and comprised the honours, castles and manors of Knaresborough and Tickhill, and the wapentake (hundred) of Staincliffe, all in Yorkshire; the hundreds of North Greenhoe, North and South Erpingham and Smithdon, in Norfolk; 200 marks (23,601) annual rent from St Mary's Abbey, York; the castle, manor and free chase of the High Peak in Derbyshire; the manors of Gringley and Wheatley in Nottinghamshire, of which Katherine was already in possession; the manors of Willingdon and Maresfield in Suss.e.x, Wighton, Aylsham, Fakenham and Snettisham in Norfolk, and those of Glatton and Holme in Cambridgeshire; Pevensey Castle and adjoining land in Suss.e.x; Ashdown free chase and the bailiwick of Endlewick in Suss.e.x; the advowsons of St Robert of Knaresborough and Tickhill; the free chapels of Castleton (High Peak), Maresfield and Pevensey Castle; and the priories of Wilmington and Withyam, both in Suss.e.x.75 Katherine was to hold all these properties for the term of her life, to ensure that she was securely provided for in the event of her being left a widow. On her death, they would revert to the heirs of the Duke's body, and not therefore to the Beauforts, thus preserving the Lancastrian inheritance intact.

Furthermore, during this year of 1397, John also arranged for some of that great inheritance to be held jointly by him and Katherine during their lives, a gesture that can only be viewed as a mark of his love and respect for her, and proof that their marriage was more than just a means of legitimising their children.76 With her jointure settled, the d.u.c.h.ess left court with the Duke and travelled north to Pontefract once more. They were there on 17 March 1397, but had returned to London by 15 April,77 after perhaps having been present when Henry Beaufort was ordained as a deacon around 37 April.78 That month, Henry achieved the accolade of being appointed Chancellor of Oxford University.79 The fortunes of Thomas Beaufort were also advanced at this time. On 6 July 1397, he was retained for life by the King with an annuity of 100 marks (11,801),80 and by November of that year, he had married Margaret, daughter of Sir Thomas Neville of Hornby and niece of Joan Beaufort's husband, Ralph Neville. She was then living in Katherine's household with a governess, and was considered too young as yet to cohabit with her husband.81 Some writers a.s.sert that Katherine's daughter, Margaret Swynford, the nun at Barking, had died by 1397, for she is not listed among the sisters who took vows of obedience that year to the new Abbess in the presence of the Bishop of London, but she was still very much alive, for in 1419, she herself was elected Abbess of Barking, and in fact she survived until 1433, dying around the ripe age of seventy. Carvings of the names of Henry and Thomas Beaufort (with the date 1430) on surviving fragments of masonry from Barking Abbey, recorded in 1720, and a bequest of vestments by Thomas Beaufort in his will proved in 1427 are perhaps further evidence that Margaret, then Abbess, was their half-sister.82 Her cousin Elizabeth Chaucer did swear allegiance to the new Abbess in 1397, along with fourteen other well-born nuns,83 but that is the last surviving reference to her; her date of death is not recorded.

There is barely a mention of Katherine in the sources covering the remaining years of her marriage to John of Gaunt. We can only a.s.sume that she was living the traditional life of a royal d.u.c.h.ess, concerning herself with household matters, charitable enterprises and pious works, overseeing the Swynford interests, involving herself in the lives of her children and being a 'dearly beloved companion' to her husband. As the mistress of many Lancastrian castles and manors, she would have found herself moving about the country more frequently than in the years of her widowhood, and living in far greater luxury than ever before. How could she not have made comparisons with how things had been when she had been John's mistress, or in the years of their separation? Now, having achieved the highest position to which she could ever have aspired, and won her man in the process, she seems to have been content to keep a low profile and remain to a great extent a background figure in his life, much as she had done in the past, when she was his mistress.

For most of the first eighteen months of her marriage, Katherine was often at court, where she enjoyed a prominent position, but political events were thereafter to overshadow her life with John, leading to tragedies that would deeply affect them both, and put their very lives in danger. Therefore it is necessary to digress and recount them here, even though Katherine was not directly involved.

John of Gaunt might have been high in favour with the King, who confirmed him as Duke of Aquitaine for life on 6 July 1397,84 but Richard, in whom resentment had simmered for a decade, was now determined to force a reckoning with the former Lords Appellant. He told John of Gaunt and Edmund of Langley that he had received intelligence from Thomas Mowbray, himself a former Appellant, that their brother of Gloucester and the Earls of Arundel and Warwick were plotting to depose and imprison him. Plaintively, he asked for their advice. 'Their plan is to separate my Queen from me and shut her up in some place of confinement,' he told them, looking as if he were suffering great anguish of heart, and sounding very convincing. His uncles did their best to calm him down, saying they would never suffer their brother to harm either him or the Queen, and as Richard had hoped, they consented to the arrests of the plotters.

In fact, both Dukes were reluctant to take sides: quite simply, 'they did not wish to be involved'.85 John's overriding concern would have been for his son, who had collaborated with Gloucester, Arundel and Warwick back in 13878, and thus laid himself forever open to accusations of treason; and he would naturally have been anxious to safeguard the future of the Lancastrian dynasty. Thus, in order to avoid becoming further embroiled in the gathering storm, John and Edmund, with their families, immediately 'retired to their own castles, the Duke of Lancaster taking with him his d.u.c.h.ess, who had for some time been the companion of the young Queen of England'.86 Thus ended for a time, at least Katherine's close a.s.sociation with Isabella of Valois. Instead she found herself 'hunting stags and deer' with her husband. However, both Dukes were 'bitterly' to regret their decision to leave court at this crucial time, for it deprived them of their last chance to save their brother and avert a disturbing political crisis.87 'Shortly after the Duke of Lancaster had gone away,' continues Froissart, 'the King decided upon a bold and daring move.' Gloucester, Arundel and Warwick were arrested, Richard apprehending his uncle in person. On 15 August, John of Gaunt was back at court and present in the House of Lords when the three n.o.bles were accused of committing treason in 13878, and later that month, he and his son Henry of Derby were ordered to muster forces for the King.88 Gloucester had been taken to Calais after his arrest, and he was almost certainly murdered there suffocated in a feather bed on the orders of the King, before 15 September.89 On 9 September, in a bid to retain John of Gaunt's support, Richard created John Beaufort who was willingly to a.s.sist in the prosecution of the Appellants Marquess of both Somerset and Dorset. On 21 September, the three arrested Appellants were called upon to answer for their treason. Gloucester, of course, was not present; Arundel argued that he had been formally pardoned, but he was condemned all the same (with the Duke of Lancaster as High Steward of England p.r.o.nouncing sentence), and beheaded the same day; Warwick, who had pleaded guilty and thrown himself on the King's mercy, escaped with forfeiture and life imprisonment. Three days later, Thomas Mowbray, another former Appellant, now Captain of Calais, announced in Parliament that Gloucester was dead.90 John of Gaunt made no public protest about his brother's murder, even though, according to Froissart (whose evidence may not be reliable), he and Edmund held the King responsible for it, and planned to meet in London to discuss what action they should take; they had 'considerable support', but instead of speaking out, they made their peace with the King, having heard that he was growing suspicious of John of Gaunt too. Maybe John felt he had no choice, given that he was in fear for his son.91 'But the common view was that they could have prevented the arrest of their brother, had they foreseen it.'92 This sinister episode effectively marks the end of John of Gaunt's active intervention in affairs of state, and indeed his political influence, and it may have coincided with or exacerbated the onset of failing health.

'So King Richard was reconciled with his uncles over the death of the Duke of Gloucester, and went on to rule more harshly than before.'93 Richard's ire did not, at that time, apparently extend to Henry of Derby, who had supported the proceedings against his former colleagues. Naturally, Richard had no wish at this time to alienate John of Gaunt, that stout bulwark of the throne. The King was Henry's guest during that September, and on the 29th, in a ma.s.s preferment of peers calculated to reward those who had supported him in the recent proceedings, he created his cousin Duke of Hereford. John of Gaunt's sons-in-law, John Holland and Ralph Neville were made Duke of Exeter and Earl of Westmorland respectively, and John Beaufort was granted eleven of Warwick's manors;94 on 20 November, he would be appointed Constable of Wallingford Castle for life.95 Richard II's proceedings against the former Appellants mark the beginning of his descent into tyranny. He was done with being told how to govern his kingdom and was determined from now on to rule by divine right as an absolute monarch. In the process, he became obsessed with projecting his own majesty, and introduced increasingly elaborate and rigid ceremonial and protocol at court. He would sit for hours crowned and silent on his high throne at Westminster, 'more splendidly and in greater state than any previous king', and 'if he looked on any man, he must kneel'.96 'He began,' says Walsingham, 'to act the tyrant and oppress the people.' Crippled by debt because of his extravagant lifestyle, he imposed forced loans on his subjects, irrevocably alienating them in the process. As his unpopularity increased, he became paranoid about his own security, and inst.i.tuted a large bodyguard of Cheshire archers to protect his person.97 In his own eyes, he could do no wrong. He was, he told Parliament, 'absolute Emperor of his kingdom of England'.98 But his contemporaries knew him to be arrogant, rapacious, vindictive, cunning and vain;99 they hated and feared this new imperious Richard. Rumours persisted that Arundel, his head and body miraculously reunited, had been restored to life, so to put paid to them, on 1 October, John of Gaunt was a.s.signed the unpleasant task of viewing Arundel's exhumed body in London;100 he and Katherine were probably staying at Ely Place at this time. By 1 November, John had gone north to Hertford with Katherine and his son, the new Duke of Hereford.101 The Duke and d.u.c.h.ess spent Christmas at Leicester,102 which must have afforded a welcome respite from the political turmoil at Westminster.

Henry had stayed in London. Some time in December, while riding to Windsor, he entered into a fateful conversation with Thomas Mowbray. Out of the blue, Mowbray startlingly revealed that four of the King's most favoured lords were plotting to kill Henry and his father the Duke when they came to Windsor after Parliament had risen in the New Year; the King would then seize the Lancastrian domains. It appeared that there were also secret moves afoot to reverse the pardon granted posthumously to the Duke's forebear, Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, who had been executed by Edward II in 1322; if that happened, John of Gaunt would be disinherited. Mowbray feared that he and Henry 'were on the point of being undone, in revenge for what was done at Radcot Bridge', for he believed Richard would not allow their treason as former Appellants to go unpunished, and could not be trusted to keep his oath.103 There is some evidence to suggest that Mowbray was not exaggerating the danger. On 1 and 3 March 1398,104 one of Richard's most favoured councillors, Sir William Bagot, MP for Warwickshire, entered into two sinister-sounding recognizances, the first for 1,000, to be forfeit from him should he 'in time to come make suit for disherision [disinheriting] of John, Duke of Lancaster, his wife or any of his children'; the second stated that 'if John, Duke of Guienne and Lancaster, his wife or any of his children shall in time to come be by him [Bagot] slain, upon proof thereof he shall be put to death without other judgement or process'. This looks like evidence of a plot to disinherit and murder not only John of Gaunt, but Katherine and their children, and it appears that Bagot was to be the scapegoat for whoever was behind the plot, should things go wrong.105 In 1399, under a new king, Bagot was to admit in court that he had once intrigued to a.s.sa.s.sinate the Duke,106 and there is some later evidence that Bagot, Mowbray and Richard II himself were the conspirators.107 It is unlikely, however, that Katherine ever discovered how close she herself had come to becoming the victim of an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt.

Henry reported this alarming exchange to John of Gaunt, who thought it best to tell the King about it. Naturally, given the nature of the conversation they had had, both Henry and Mowbray who was outraged at his confidences being reported to Richard wished to portray themselves in the best possible light, and each ended up accusing the other of treason before Richard. Adam of Usk claims that Mowbray himself who had been implicated in the death of Gloucester, and perhaps believed that Henry's complaint was prompted by his father in reprisal for that, with a view to bringing Mowbray to grief108 began plotting to murder John of Gaunt when the Duke travelled to Shrewsbury for the coming Parliament, but that the latter was warned and managed to escape the snare.

The strain told on John. At the beginning of February, after Parliament rose, he was suffering from a high fever, and was obliged to retire with Katherine to nearby Lilleshall Abbey for a couple of days to recuperate.109 By this time, he was, as he confided to the King in a letter, suffering from a recurrent illness that proved intermittently incapacitating, and this was probably one such attack.110 Lilleshall Abbey, where John rested with Katherine, was a remote but imposing Norman house of red sandstone founded by Arroasian (later Augustinian) canons in 1148 and extended in the thirteenth century. Extensive ruins remain today, and the west front is especially magnificent.

Confronted with the prospect of his own mortality, John was having to face the possibility that Richard II had designs on the Lancastrian inheritance, and Katherine would certainly have shared in her husband's anxieties on that score, and indeed been concerned for him too. The King had already moved against three Lords Appellant, so what was there to stop him from proceeding against the other two? Even if he stopped short of indicting Henry for treason, he might yet use devious means to seize the Duchy for the Crown. As soon as he was well enough, John sought from Richard an a.s.surance that he would not use the forfeiture of Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, in 1322 as an excuse to appropriate the Duchy's lands, a request Richard readily granted.111 So far, then, there had been no tangible evidence that the King was entertaining any sinister intentions towards the House of Lancaster. On 5 February, he again showed generosity to John Beaufort, appointing him to the prestigious offices of Warden of the Cinque Ports and Constable of Dover Castle, the key defensive fortress of the realm, and on 9 May Beaufort would be named Admiral of the North and West.112 In granting these offices, Richard was acknowledging John Beaufort to be one of the leading lords in the kingdom, a worthy son of his father.

John of Gaunt was evidently in better health by 5 February, for on that day the King again commissioned him to treat for peace with the Scots, and on the 20th, he was at Pontefract again, on his way north.113 He may have left Katherine there to await his return, for it is unlikely she accompanied him to Scotland, in view of the lawlessness of the Border regions.

There was much adverse comment when, on 27 February 1398, Henry Beaufort, a proud and ambitious young man of just twenty-one, was named Bishop of Lincoln by the King. He had been provided to the See by a bull of Pope Boniface IX, who was ever eager to gratify the wishes of the influential Duke of Lancaster, the Duke having shamelessly canva.s.sed for the appointment; normally thirty was the minimum age for bishops. Even for the son of the mighty John of Gaunt, this was too rapid a promotion, and a flagrant abuse of the power of the Papacy. Evidently the aged Bishop Buckingham thought so too, because, rather than meekly submit to being translated to the less prestigious See of Coventry and Lichfield, ostensibly for the benefit of his health, but in reality to make way for his successor, he insisted on continuing with his episcopal duties in Lincoln up until 12 July that year. By then, he was too infirm to carry on anywhere, and was sent to live out his days in Canterbury, where he died on 10 March 1399. On 14 July 1398, having resigned as Chancellor of Oxford and renounced most of his other offices in order to focus on his episcopate, Henry Beaufort was consecrated Bishop of Lincoln, receiving his temporalities five days later at Tutbury.114 He was to prove a typical career bishop, busy and competent in all his affairs, who would enjoy power within the State as well as the Church, and whose interests embraced both the secular and the sacred, yet who saw himself, before all else, as a Lancastrian prince. With his preferment, Katherine found herself the mother of a marquess, a countess and a bishop attainments she could never at one time have dreamed of for her b.a.s.t.a.r.d children.

In the middle of March 1398, near Kelso, John of Gaunt appointed deputies to serve on the northern Marches, then rode south, unaware that he had just completed his last diplomatic mission appropriately in the interests of peace.115 From that time onwards, he was to play little part in public life, a clear indication that his health was failing fast, as is the sudden cessation of his witnessing royal charters in July 1398.116 Worry about his son must have been a contributory factor.

The quarrel between Henry and Mowbray was still unresolved, and for Richard II, this was a G.o.d-sent opportunity to press home his advantage, for he had come to see the House of Lancaster, with its enormous power and vast wealth, as a threat to himself and his throne, and was indeed resolved to neutralise it. On 19 March, the two protagonists again appeared before the King at Bristol, and since honour had to be satisfied and neither party was willing to be reconciled, the case was referred to the Court of Chivalry to consider a 'wager of battle'. John of Gaunt, 'greatly upset', according to Froissart, went to Westminster with Henry on 25 March, but he and Katherine had retired to Leicester by 14 April, and so John was consequently spared the ordeal of witnessing Richard II, on the 29th at Windsor, ordering that, since there were no witnesses to the fateful conversation, the issues between Henry and Mowbray be settled by judicial combat between the protagonists117 an outdated but still legal (until 1819) process whereby guilt was apportioned to the man left dead or disabled, or the one who ended the fight by crying 'Craven!' In this case, 'the duel was to be a matter of life and death'.118 Henry raced north to break the news to his father and to hone his skills for the coming fight. John of Gaunt now faced the terrible prospect of his beloved son and heir being killed and branded a traitor, but on the other hand, Henry was an expert swordsman and jouster, and his father may have been optimistic as to the outcome. For all that, the Duke 'was much annoyed and disturbed' by the King's actions, although he did not wish to say a word against Richard because Henry's honour was involved, as was his own.119 A sense of disaster threatening may well have overshadowed the family's time at Pontefract, where they resided from at least 9 June until 14 July, before removing to Rothwell.120 It would appear that Richard was unaware of his uncle's increasing frailty, for at the beginning of July he renewed his commission as Lieutenant of the Marches.121 Early in August, Henry received word that the trial by combat would take place on 16 September. Richard may have been trying to lull John of Gaunt into a false sense of security when, on the 8th, he confirmed and extended his powers in the palatinate of Chester, upgraded the earldom of Chester to a princ.i.p.ality and appointed the Duke its hereditary constable.122 But this was to be the last public office ever granted to John, whose relinquishment of the Duchy of Aquitaine that year suggests an awareness that he was no longer able to bear the responsibilities that possession of that turbulent domain entailed. In his place, at the end of August, the ever-upwardly mobile John Beaufort was appointed King's Lieutenant in Aquitaine for seven years.123 At last, 16 September dawned, the day everyone concerned had been awaiting or dreading, and the two protagonists faced each other at Gosford Green, Coventry, with the King (who was lodging at Sir William Bagot's house), the young Queen, the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Lancaster, the whole court and vast crowds of sightseers looking on. But as the contestants sat there on their steeds, poised to charge, the King threw down his staff and forbade them to proceed. Instead, they were summoned to kneel before him, and without further preliminaries, he sentenced Henry to ten years' banishment, and Mowbray to exile for life. Both were commanded to leave England by 20 October.124 At a stroke, Richard had rid himself of the two remaining Appellants.

'The whole court was in a state of turmoil.'125 The summary sentences handed down without any charges being made or any form of trial stunned everyone and provoked much criticism of the King, not the least because Henry was 'extraordinarily popular' in England.126 At last Richard had revealed his hand, showing that he had meant all along to have his revenge on every one of the former Appellants. On the plea of John of Gaunt, he did immediately reduce the term of Henry's banishment to six years, but he was otherwise implacable. Banishing Henry and Mowbray had been a clever move on his part, for he must have been aware by now that the Duke did not have much longer to live, and with Henry abroad at the time his father died as he surely would be it would be far easier for the King to appropriate the vast Lancastrian estates.

For John of Gaunt and his son, however, it was a tragedy, for it meant that Henry had to leave his father, with whom he had always enjoyed a touchingly warm relationship, at a time when the latter's health was failing fast and it must have been obvious that the prospect of their meeting again in this life was remote indeed. John may have made this point, to no purpose, in his plea to the King. More than that, the future security of the Lancastrian patrimony, which for over thirty years the Duke had preserved and enriched as the inheritance he would leave his son and the heirs of his dynasty, was now clearly under threat. Many historians have observed that he made no public protest; Froissart says that he 'was very angry and felt that the King should not have reacted as he had . . . And the more sensible of the barons agreed with him.' Nevertheless, while he 'deplored the matter in private, [he] was too proud to approach Richard II, since his son's honour was involved'. That is understandable, but, given the King's unpredictable humour, probably he did not dare to protest, for to do so might only worsen the situation, and so much was at stake. He had, after all, pleaded with the King in private, and failed to soften his resolve.

The prospect of death was undoubtedly in John's mind at this time, for on 17 September, only one day after Richard p.r.o.nounced his terrible judgement, the Duke obtained from him a licence to found a chantry for himself and Katherine in Lincoln Cathedral, where their souls could be prayed for in perpetuity by two chaplains.127 When his time came, John would be buried in the double tomb he had built for himself and Blanche in St Paul's, but he desired to retain a spiritual affinity in death with Katherine, who must already have decided that she would be laid to rest in Lincoln Cathedral, a place with which she had long enjoyed a close a.s.sociation, and where she and John had been married. That she had the right to burial there is perhaps further evidence that she was a member of the cathedral's confraternity, although her long residence in the Close might have qualified her for the privilege, and her royal status.

After their marriage, John and Katherine had forged even closer links with Lincoln Cathedral. They bestowed rich gifts. In his will, John left a gold chalice graven with a crucifix and an image of Christ, a gold table, large gold chandeliers and a stone altar he called 'Domesday' that was encrusted with sapphires, diamonds, pearls and rubies, all of which were from his own chapel, as well as new vestments of red cloth of gold adorned with gold falcons, and an altar cloth with the images of Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary and the twelve Apostles embroidered in gold thread.

During her marriage and widowhood, Katherine too gave beautiful vestments, some from her own chapel; these comprised 'a chasuble of red baudekin [rich silk] with orphreys [ornamental bands or borders] of gold with leopards powdered [sprinkled] with black trefoils, and two tunicles and two albs of the same suite'; twenty 'fair copes', each having 'three wheels of silver in the hoods; . . . a chasuble of red velvet with Katherine wheels of gold, with two tunicles and three albs, with all the apparel of the same suite; . . . five copes of red velvet with Katherine wheels of gold, of the which three hath orphreys of black cloth of gold, and the other two hath orphreys with images of Katherine wheels and stars'. There were also four other copes 'in red satin figured with Katherine wheels of gold, with orphreys having images, staffs and Katherine wheels', and 'two cloths of red velvet embroidered with Katherine wheels of gold of divers lengths and divers breadths'. All were 'of the gift of the d.u.c.h.ess of Lancaster', and they were recorded in an inventory taken in 1536, when they were still proudly numbered among the cathedral's treasures. These descriptions give some indication of the splendour in which the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess worshipped, while the proliferation of Katherine wheels testifies to the d.u.c.h.ess's desire to be identified with her patron saint.128 Immediately after obtaining his licence from the King, John rode with Katherine to Leicester Castle. To show that he bore the Duke no ill will for the misdeeds of his son, Richard visited them there from 20 to 24 September,129 and on the last day of his stay, he granted Mowbray's lordship of Castle Acre in Norfolk to Thomas Beaufort.130 Were these sops to lull John into believing that Richard had no further moves against the House of Lancaster planned?

During his visit, Richard must have seen a deterioration in John of Gaunt's health. For some time, says Froissart, John was 'low spirited on account of the banishment of his son', and he was clearly not a well man. Although on 3 October Richard was apparently antic.i.p.ating that his uncle might undertake another trip to Scotland in 1399, this was perhaps a ploy to make people believe he thought the Duke would live to see his son return from exile, in order to deflect any suspicions that he had his eye on their lands; for on that same day, he went so far as to issue letters authorising Henry to receive his inheritance in the event of John's early demise.131 Katherine was probably present with John at Eltham Palace that month to witness Henry taking his leave of the King. Their own sad farewells were made soon afterwards, and on 13 March, Henry, riding through vast crowds of people 'weeping and crying after him', left London for Dover, where he was to board a ship bound for France.132 On his father's advice, he had arranged to spend his exile in Paris, at the French court,133 near enough to England for him to be able speedily to return if necessary.

John of Gaunt, now overtaken 'by a sudden languor, both for old age and heaviness [depression]',134 and 'gravely desolated' by the absence of his son and the prospect of never seeing him again,135 rode north with his beloved Katherine to Leicester Castle, arriving there by 24 October.136 He would not leave this long-favoured residence alive.137 As Silva-Vigier and Goodman point out, the greater part of his short married life with Katherine had been darkly overshadowed by Richard II's tyranny and latterly the Duke's sickness and there was to be no happy ending. In November, his health deteriorated, and at Christmas, according to Froissart, he became very ill. It may have been at this time that he took to 'his chamber bed, travailed in that infirmity'.138 This was by far the worst manifestation of the illness he had suffered from intermittently for at least a year, a malady that some believed had been brought on or exacerbated by the strain of recent events.139 The nature of that illness cannot be determined for certain, but there are possible clues. The following 'indecent tale' was deemed so disgusting by the Duke's Edwardian biographer, Armitage-Smith, that he had the whole text, and his own dismissive observations, printed in Latin; later historians, such as Pearsall and Bevan, have also cast doubt on its credibility. But were they right to do so? A closer look at the evidence is required.

In the 1440s, Thomas Gascoigne, Chancellor of Oxford University, claimed in his treatise Loci e libro veritatum (Pa.s.sages from a book of truths) that John of Gaunt 'died of putrefaction of his genitals and body, caused by the frequenting of women, for he was a great fornicator'. According to Gascoigne, Richard II visited John of Gaunt as he was 'lying thus diseased in bed', and the Duke 'showed this same putrefaction' to the King, laying bare his corrupted genitals and other parts. Gascoigne, who attributed this illness to 'the exercise of carnal intercourse with women', and who says he got his information from 'a faithful student of theology who knew these things and told them to me', wrote this pa.s.sage to ill.u.s.trate his typically clerical theory that excessive s.e.xual intercourse had dire consequences for men; yet it seems strange that the private shame of the Duke of Lancaster, the great-grandfather of the then-rei