CHAPTER FIVE

Her Husband’s Wife 1475–83

WHAT ARE DUCHESSES FOR?

The Apostle Paul wrote that marriage was a means of carnal satisfaction without sin. Sex was certainly expected of their marriage by the duke and duchess and was duly delivered. Children were desired and indeed required. Wives were expected to have children, preferably sons. Though hardly essential to run the ducal household, for she had a host of officers and humbler servants to undertake such domestic tasks, and though often apart, the Duchess Anne was also her duke’s companion, probably more equal in practice than in the formal record, and the source of his landed wealth and political power.

THE GLOUCESTERS’ CHILDREN

The duke and duchess wanted children, above all a male heir. Together they achieved it. Young though she was, Anne cannot have been a virgin when she remarried. Her first union had to be consummated.¹ Whether she was sexually mature in 1470 we cannot tell. Her new husband, at twenty somewhat the older, was probably already sexually active.

In terms of offspring, it was not a very productive marriage. Anne and Richard had to wait to have children. Presumably they started sleeping together when they married, perhaps in 1472, maybe in 1473, certainly by 1474. By that time, Richard was twenty-two years of age and Anne was eighteen. Only one child is known to have been born to the marriage, a son, Edward. How joyful they must have been when he was born! No doubt he was named after his uncle Edward IV, who may have been his godfather, though inevitably absent from the christening. John Rows tells us that he was born at Middleham ‘in the north country’,² far away from Warwick, where Rows lived, or Tewkesbury. Hence neither Rows himself nor the Tewkesbury chronicler could reveal precisely when Edward of Middleham was born. It seems improbable that it was as early as 1473, as is usually supposed, since Rows, admittedly no expert where children were concerned, said the boy was about seven years old in 1483;Vergil, who did not see him, thought him nine.³ If seven, he was born about 1476–7;if nine, perhaps as early as 1474. Surviving accounts for the lordship of Middleham do not even hint at any celebrations there in the financial year 1473–4.⁴ The Tewkesbury chronicler says that Edward was born at Middleham in 1476 – an old-style year that continued until 25 March 1477, only shortly before the first explicit mention of him on 10 April 1477, when he was included with his parents in those to be prayed for in a chantry. Edward was the Gloucesters’‘first begotten son’on 1 July 1477.⁵ No other child was mentioned in the licence, so at that point Edward was not merely their eldest son, but almost certainly their only child. As early as 1 July 1477 he was described as the Gloucesters’‘first begotten son the Earl of Salisbury’– properly Clarence’s title – seven months before this firstborn (primogenitus) son was formally created earl of Salisbury by Edward IV.⁶ ‘First begotten’ is not necessarily indicative that there was also a last born or indeed any another offspring. Anne’s father Warwick had also been earl of Salisbury and so too had been Clarence in Isabel’s right. It demonstrates the boy’s significance to his parents, of which he was heir: his elevation to the peerage was especially gratifying to them. Although one sixteenth-century version of the Tewkesbury chronicle filled the blank left for the boy with the name George – a name perhaps pointing to Archbishop Neville, who died in 1476, or Clarence, who died in 1478, as godfather – it is much more likely that this was a simple error.⁷ If born before Edward of Middleham, any such son had died by 1477; if afterwards, by 1483. Neither Rows nor the Tewkesbury chronicler mention any other child, but, living so far from the parents, they were unlikely to know of any miscarriages, stillbirths or children who had died in infancy.

Since there is no accurate record of Edward’s birth, we know nothing of the rejoicing, the baptism, or the churching that followed – surely the highest points of his mother’s short married life? That he was called Edward suggests forcibly that his godfather was the king, but that cannot be confirmed either. Presumably Anne was responsible for Edward’s upbringing just as the Countess Anne had been for her own. As was customary at this time, the duchess did not suckle her son herself, but deputed that chore instead to a woman who had recently had her own baby. His wet-nurse was Isabel Burgh, the wife of Henry Burgh, who was rewarded with annuities by the duke.⁸ Perhaps in succession, by 1480 Edward was in the care of Anne Idley, ‘mistress of our [ducal] nursery’.⁹Mistress Idley was the widow of Peter Idley, an Oxfordshire squire and the educationalist who wrote Instructions to his Son. She may therefore have been known to have an interest in education.¹⁰

Our only evidence suggests that Anne was pregnant only once – or had only one live birth – during approximately twelve years of marriage. Probably she had to wait five years, until 1477, to produce a son. That was all. One son was enough, provided Edward of Middleham survived. Anne had performed the minimum to be expected of a wife, a duchess or a queen. But she never had another baby. Perhaps it was already likely by 1483, when she was only twenty-seven, that there would be no more children. History repeated itself: her mother’s history. Yet Anne and Richard continued to try. Under 1485, Crowland reports that Richard then spurned his consort’s bed.¹¹ The implication is that hitherto he had continued resorting to it and was known to have done so. Crowland was in a position to know. Lords and ladies, let alone kings and queens, did not normally share the same bed, nor the same chamber, nor even same household. Sharing the same bed was therefore a conscious decision made solely for the purposes of procreation – for sexual intercourse. It was also a public decision, obvious to the chamber staff of both households. The king could be observed commuting. Highly visible movement of the king from his apartments to those of the queen was required for intercourse to take place. Christmas 1484, like Christmas 1483, was celebrated at Westminster, where Crowland worked. Crowland knew the location of the apartments of both the king and the queen:¹² he or his colleagues were well-placed to monitor the king’s sleeping (and therefore) marital sexual arrangements. We can therefore be confident that King Richard and Queen Anne continued trying to reproduce until 1485.

Edward of Middleham was an asset whether he was earl of Salisbury or prince of Wales. Had he survived, he was destined first to be duke of Gloucester and latterly King Edward VI, to continue the family line, and immeasurably to strengthen his parents’ hold on and management of their estates. Whether he was seven years old in 1483 or older, it was not too early for his parents to be thinking of his marriage. Sir Thomas More reports agreement in principle for his marriage to a daughter of Henry, Duke of Buckingham (d.1483), the wealthiest other magnate of the blood royal:¹³ although within the prohibited degrees and no heiress, she was certainly eligible. As More tells it, moreover, it was a cement to the alliance that made Richard king. His account is unsubstantiated and the match anyway was soon outdated by Buckingham’s rebellion. The boy’s marriage became instead a factor in his father’s diplomacy.

RICHARD’S BASTARDS

The relationship of Anne and Richard was certainly a sexual one. However, it was not exclusive, for Edward was not Richard’s only child. He had at least two bastards and perhaps three. Whilst this is well known, Richard’s modern supporters have argued that they were oats sown in the bachelor years before his marriage and are not evidence of infidelity to Anne.¹⁴ That is a rather anachronistic line to take, applying modern morality (but not any longer, perhaps, contemporary morality) to a past period that had different standards. Women, married or unmarried, were expected to be chaste. For men, that was not so. There was a double standard. Numerous aristocrats had bastards, who were often publicly acknowledged: John of Gaunt’s Beaufort by-blows, the bastards of Clarence and Fauconberg, are well known. There was not the stigma attached to it of later ages. Whilst one of Richard’s bastards may predate his marriage, another probably did not. Anne, doubtless often separated from her husband, was not his sole source of sexual satisfaction.

Peter Hammond carefully examined the attribution of one Richard of Eastwell in Kent and concluded, almost certainly correctly, that Duke Richard was not his father.¹⁵ Once king, however, Richard did acknowledge two bastards, a daughter Katherine Plantagenet and a son – ‘the lord bastard’ of his signet letter book – John of Pontefract, whom Richard knighted at York in 1483.¹⁶

On 28 February 1484 Richard negotiated Katherine’s betrothal as second wife to the thirty-year-old widower William Herbert, Earl of Huntingdon. She had died by 1487. Katherine must indeed have been ‘in her young age’ as one pedigree puts it, since her father King Richard was only thirty. There were clauses in the contract requiring the bridegroom to settle jointure on her and her father to settle lands on them jointly. The wedding was to be concluded by Michaelmas (29 September), before which the earl was to make a settlement on them both jointly and Richard was to do likewise.¹⁷ They were married before May, but not apparently by 3 April 1484, when Richard had indeed granted them revenues worth £152 a year.¹⁸ Presumably lands could only be conveyed to Katherine after she had reached the female age of majority – fourteen. If that deduction is correct and Katherine was already fourteen in 1484, she was the product of a bachelor liaison dating from before Richard’s wooing, betrothal or marriage to Anne. Most probably Katherine was born before Richard went into exile in 1470 – perhaps even some years earlier when Richard was in his mid-teens. Katherine is tangible evidence that Richard commenced his sex life early, though not unduly precociously. Tantalisingly, there is another Katherine, to whom the duke was paying an annuity of £5 from his East Anglian estates in 1476, but granted at least one financial year earlier.¹⁹ She was Katherine Haute, presumably the Katherine wife of Jacques Haute, a kinsman of the queen, whose relationship with Richard could antedate her marriage. Such an annuity indicates services separate from any husband which, with the coincidence of forename, prompted Rosemary Horrox in 1989 and the present author, for lack of alternatives, to suggest that Katherine Haute may be the mistress by whom Richard had Katherine Plantagenet.²⁰ The name intrigues, since it implies a particularly close connection between Richard and the family of Edward’s Wydeville queen during Edward IV’s first reign. The marriage indicates simultaneously Richard’s awareness of his daughter, that he cared enough for her to provide for her, and her political utility to him as king.

The other known bastard, John of Pontefract, was presumably born at Pontefract, perhaps to a local girl. John’s birth could also antedate Richard’s exile in 1470. Assuming that he was born where he was conceived, he could have resulted from a liaison in 1465–8 when Richard was in the household of Warwick, who as chief steward of the duchy of Lancaster in the North and constable of Pontefract had the use of the great castle. Apart from Richard’s youth, this appears unlikely, both because Warwick can never be shown to have been at Pontefract and because so early a birth would have made John a teenager mature enough in Richard’s reign to have been used much more extensively than he was. Only after Prince Edward’s demise does John crop up in records: as ‘the Lord Bastard’ escorted to and from Calais by Robert Brackenbury late in 1484. In March 1485, just a few days before Queen Anne’s death, a payment was made for his clothing and he was appointed titular captain of Calais.²¹ Perhaps Anne would have objected to such elevation earlier? From 1471 Duke Richard had also been chief steward of the northern duchy and constable of Pontefract and certainly visited it. He was there on 27 April 1473, moved there from Middleham in October, and was there between 1 March and 7 May 1474.²²Possibly significantly, he was at Pontefract on 1 March 1474 when he granted his beloved gentlewoman Alice Burgh (dilecte nobis Alesie Burgh generose sibi) ‘for certain special causes and considerations’ an annuity for life from Middleham: a highly unusual event, especially as the sum, £20, was also substantial.²³ Alice was a lady most probably attendant on the Duchess Anne – a common source of mistresses for princes! Most likely she was a cadet of the Burghs of Knaresborough, a modest family of Yorkshire gentry. Was Alice Burgh, perhaps, Richard’s mistress and the mother of John of Pontefract? The annuity was still due from Middleham in January 1485, when she was also drawing another 20 marks from Warwickshire,²⁴ evidence of further services that Richard evidently valued highly. Henry Burgh and his wife Isabel, surely kinswomen, were also feed (20 marks) from Middleham during Richard’s reign. Isabel had been nurse to Prince Edward.²⁵ Was she the sister-in-law of Alice, perhaps selected because of Alice? There are too many occurrences of both forenames in grants and payments for Isabel and Alice to be identical. This is regrettable: how sad that the titillating possibility that Richard’s mistress was wet-nurse to his legitimate son cannot apply. That John of Pontefract first appears in July 1483 at York is evidence perhaps that he was brought up in Yorkshire. However that may be, it appears much more likely that John was the product of a sexual liaison after Richard’s marriage: evidence not necessarily that Richard was dissatisfied with his wife, sexually or otherwise, but that their relationship was not exclusive.

We know of Richard’s bastards because he acknowledged them when he became king – more than that, he treated them with distinction, finding Katherine an earl for a husband and raising John to princely office. Whilst enticed by grants worth 1,000 marks a year (£666 13s 4d),²⁶ Huntingdon clearly did not feel disparaged by the bend sinister, but saw instead advantages, influence and favour at court in consequence. Richard also was not ashamed of his bastards. We cannot tell whether he was as blatant before his accession – could he have been so damnatory about his brother’s peccadilloes had his own been known? – but if he was, one might expect it to be uncomfortable or even painful for his spouse. Here, however, our twenty-first-century reactions may mislead. Anne had of course to accept any by-blows who antedated their own relationship. We cannot know when she first learnt of their existence – at the latest when her husband the king brought John and Katherine into public view. Anne’s age observed a double standard, which permitted, condoned and perhaps even expected husbands to take sexual solace outside marriage, which wives were denied. Richard’s brother Edward IV was a notorious practitioner.

If many magnates had bastards,²⁷ most of them were ungenerously treated. They were, after all, illegitimate. Anne’s father Warwick had been exceptional in marrying his bastard daughter to the heir of a substantial gentry family, and in providing an attractive endowment.²⁸ That, surely, was the most that Katherine and John could have expected, had their father not become king. His accession was a boon that they did not live long enough to enjoy.

MARRIED LIFE

John Rows states that Richard and Anne were ‘unhappily married’, but these two words cannot be accepted as a definitive verdict on their married life. Not only is his comment over-brief, but he was ill placed to witness almost all of it and was writing in the later Latin version,²⁹ after Anne’s final months that did deserve the title unhappy, her death, and possibly Richard’s own fall. As consort of Richard, Duke of Gloucester, Anne should have accompanied him to public functions – ceremonial state occasions – and presided over his household. In reality she cannot be shown to have done any of these things. She was not mentioned in the heraldic accounts of the receptions of the Burgundian Lord Gruthuyse at Windsor and Westminster in 1472, at the creation of the queen’s son as marquis of Dorset at Westminster in 1475, at the reburial of the king’s father at Fotheringhay in 1476, at the marriage of the king’s second son at Westminster in 1478, or at the funeral of Princess Mary at Windsor in 1482, all but the last attended by her husband. Heralds were not much interested in ladies, but surely she should have been there? Actually it is impossible to write a satisfactory account of Anne’s married life.

Scarcely any relevant records survive between 1472 – or whenever matrimony commenced – and 1483. In some respects, this can be no great surprise. This was after all an era in which a married lady’s property was regarded as her husband’s and in which actions recorded as his may actually have been hers. That ‘married women were often regarded as infants before the law’ means ‘that wives are often invisible in written records’.³⁰ By remarrying, Anne had surrendered the momentary autonomy that she had so briefly enjoyed as femme sole. We have already seen how little is known of the thirty-five-year marriage of her mother the Countess Anne. Moreover, a wife’s sphere, even a wife who was a duchess, was domestic and not the stuff of public records, which do reveal some political actions of the duke. Not that even Richard occurs in such sources as frequently as many other magnates and princes did. Scarcely any private records survive of their affairs: a mere handful of accounts of receivers of estates in eastern England, one year’s worth of accounts of one of their northern lordships, a cartulary of title deeds, a dozen or so miscellaneous deeds preserved by the recipients, and the impression of the ducal couple on other record-keeping bodies, such as the town council and Corpus Christi Guild at York, Durham cathedral priory, and bishops’ registers. In total, it is not an impressive archive. Moreover, it relates almost entirely to Richard, scarcely at all to Anne.

Yet Anne’s absence is hard to explain in purely archival terms. Amongst fifty references to the duke in the house books of the city of York, not a single one refers to her. Her intercession was not sought – perhaps it was not worth seeking? If so, that suggests that she did not count – that Anne lacked even the normal influence that fifteenth-century ladies had with their husbands. That is a big supposition to base on the absence of evidence. But Richard was an egotist and no respecter of women: if Anne exercised no political influence on her husband it may not have been because she was especially ineffective.

Besides, Anne possessed no property of her own. Gloucester settled no jointure on her. Anne should have had some lands, of course. She was rightly heiress to half her father’s Montagu/Salisbury lands. Actually, half her parents’ whole estate had been secured in her right. It is evident, however, that Richard treated her lands as his own. He features at Middleham as ‘lord’ (dominus).³¹ The Neville lands were the foundation of the duke’s power in the North, which he extended in a highly personal way, exchanging properties that Anne had inherited when appropriate for others that complemented his other holdings better. Such transactions were in his name alone.³² The chantries and colleges which they founded for both their souls were titled typically as the duke of Gloucester’s, never the duchess’s.³³ It was the duke’s instructions that were obeyed both at Middleham and on the estates in eastern England, some of which – like Kirtling in Cambridgeshire – were properly Anne’s.³⁴

That does not mean either that Anne was ungenerously treated or unhappy. Richard need not have stinted on the house-keeping and indeed Anne seems to have attired herself in the most luxurious materials. Duke and duchess appear to have been together in London on 3–6 December 1476, when Gloucester issued a number of signet warrants for payment to the receiver of his East Anglian lands. Totalling £296, including some acquisitions from 1475, his purchases included tapestry (arras-work), velvet and other cloth, silks and furs, most of them purchased for his own use, but some for ‘the most dear consort of the lord duke’. A tailor, John Lee, supplied her with cloth costing £10 18s 4d; a skinner, Thomas Cole, certain furs costing £19 7s 11d; and a mercer, John Knott, silk cloth and other things costing £20 12s 11d. The sum total, £50 9s 1d, was a considerable sum and indicates both bulk purchases and luxuries.³⁵ Although the duke and duchess used the same tradesmen and were paid from the same source, it is interesting that their orders were separate – evidence perhaps that she (or her purveyor) operated independently to meet her specific needs and an indication that her allowance was not expected to cover everything. That, of course, is to read a lot into very little, regrettably almost all the direct evidence that we possess. Although unrecorded, Anne probably accompanied Richard on most of his visits to London, for parliamentary sessions and on other occasions, at least once a year, but probably more often. If often enough at court, Richard (and hence Anne) was normally absent. Neither were courtiers.

For convenience, Anne’s household surely was supported, as others were, by estate revenues on which her officers could draw. It is just that we do not know their identity or value. Similarly, she must have had her own upper household of chamberlain, chaplains and damsels in attendance on her, and similarly all the other service departments found in any other noble household. Anne certainly was not always in her husband’s household, for instance when he was campaigning on the borders, invading France in 1475 and in Scotland in 1481–3, and doubtless at other times. She therefore required her own establishment to cater for her needs when separated from the duke. That in 1475–6 the duke’s councillors conveyed to the city of York a message from the duchess suggests, as one would expect, that she deputised for him in his absence,³⁶ in this instance probably when Gloucester was on campaign in France.

Actually, we scarcely ever know for sure where the Duchess Anne was. Often she must have been with her husband, and his fragmentary itinerary is therefore a guide to her own. In 1483 the historian Mancini said that he lived mainly on the Gloucester estates – for which, read his northern estates – and certainly Richard is often reported in Yorkshire or in the West March. He had major governmental and military responsibilities in the region and crops up regularly in the minutes of the city council of York and in the correspondence of the Plumpton family of Knaresborough. Most commonly Gloucester was at Middleham, where their son was born. Never is the duke recorded at Barnard Castle, although he certainly visited it and commissioned works at the castle, and infrequently at Sheriff Hutton or Penrith. Every year he spent some time in London. There is no direct evidence after 1472 that the ducal couple visited Warwick, Tewkesbury or Cardiff, all properties that had earlier been regarded as Anne’s home, although such visits are implied by Gloucester’s presence at Swansea in 1479.³⁷

That Anne had her own staff, that she wanted to promote them, and that she solicited and otherwise related to institutions and other potential patrons independently of her husband, as one would expect, is indicated by only one fragment of evidence. Anne did seek for one of her clerks the vicarage of Bossall, in the gift of Durham cathedral priory. Vicarages, which vicars had to serve themselves, were not the most attractive or prestigious of livings. We do not possess Anne’s letter, but the reply of Prior Richard Bell dated 19 March 1477, which hints at an earlier supplication, perhaps one more general rather than specific to Bossall, which may not then have been vacant. The letter Bell was answering was borne to him by Anne’s servant Nicholas Hedlam. Again, it is not quite clear whether Hedlam was the intended beneficiary, or whether Anne sought the right to present whoever she chose. If the former, we may presume that Hedlam himself told her of the vacancy, aspired to be vicar, and solicited her intercession, in which case she took the initiative. However, she was too late – the living had been filled.‘For the which matter’, begged the prior, ‘I will beseech your good grace to take no displeasure, for I have a little overseen myself in my simpleness for my lack of remembrance’, presumably of an earlier letter. This was more than an elegantly phrased excuse, for he promised amends. There were problems yet to be resolved relating to his choice.‘Nevertheless your good ladyship shall be pleased either with it or with another as good’, he writes, ‘when it shall fall in our gift’. The duchess might have to wait, but the patronage of ‘my full singular and gracious good lady’ – and, by extension her husband – was something that Prior Bell was anxious not to lose.³⁸ Almost certainly it was on their recommendation that Bell was promoted bishop of Carlisle in 1478.³⁹

ANNE’S PIETY

One final area offering some glimmerings of light is Anne’s religion. Rows did not know Anne well enough to report on the quality of her religious faith and we know little more about it. Life in aristocratic households was constructed around Christian observance, with services timetabled every day and diet conditioned by the Christian calendar, its feasts, fasts and saints’days. The impressive college of priests, chaplains and choristers that was established in the chapel of Barnard Castle may indicate just how elaborate and just how choral were services in their household chapel.⁴⁰ Anne, like every other lady, gave offerings as appropriate. In 1477, moreover, the duchess and her husband joined the guild of Corpus Christi at York, albeit regrettably as ‘the Duke of Gloucester and LadyElizabeth his wife’. This was a fraternity or sisterhood that brought together all of northern high society and which moreover required its members, even peers, to process.⁴¹ In 1476 it was Anne alone, this time without her husband, who was admitted to the sisterhood of Durham cathedral priory, whose monks thereby bound themselves to intercede for her good estate in life and her soul after death.⁴² Dedicated to St Cuthbert, the premier northern saint, and indeed his shrine, Durham cathedral housed the tombs of several of her Neville ancestors – there remains a splendid Neville screen – and was the mother church for the Warwick lordship of Barnard Castle. We do not possess the book of hours that she employed or any of her other books, except for Mechhild of Hackborn’sBook of Ghostly Grace; even then the signature Anne Warwick, although associated with Richard’s, may relate to her mother the Countess Anne. Much more can be inferred from his books about her husband Duke Richard, although even in his case a study of his religious life is not really feasible.⁴³

The ducal couple were also notable benefactors of the Church, founders of religious establishments, and surely Anne played a role in this. She was certainly coupled with the duke; perhaps sometimes she was the first mover. The first in time was a chantry at the college of St Margaret and St Bernard at Cambridge, commonly called Queens’ College, Cambridge, in 1477. Some of Richard’s senior clerics were Cambridge graduates, but the duke of course was not. He had no earlier association with the college. Anne and Richard granted the college his advowson (right of presentation) of Fulmer in Cambridgeshire, forfeited by the De Vere earls of Oxford, in return for prayers for the souls of the earl and countess of Oxford and for the good estate of the king and queen, the duke and duchess of Gloucester, and their son Edward. Prayers were also reserved for those who fell at the duke’s side at the battle of Barnet.⁴⁴ Thus far it sounds like an initiative of the duke and duchess in their own interests. That the patron was a queen – and that Anne herself patronised it also when she was queen – suggests that Anne’s role may have been important. On the other hand, Anne was mentioned only once – as beneficiary – and there was clearly a political dimension to the benefaction. That the Gloucesters patronised the queen’s foundation needs to be coupled with his donation in 1482 of two further advowsons of Olney (Bucks.) and Simonburn (Co. Durham) to Edward IV’s pet project at St George’s Chapel, Windsor.⁴⁵ Moreover, such livings, which the colleges could appropriate, were worth much more to them than the duke and duchess, for whom the only cost was a loss of future appointments for their clerics. It is a complex episode, but it is one in which Anne may also have played a part.

That the duke and duchess, still in their early twenties, were thinking of their souls is shown by the two colleges that they were planning in February 1478. The first and largest within their castle at Barnard Castle was for a dean, twelve chaplains, ten clerks, six choristers and a clerk. The second, in Middleham parish church, was half that size: for a dean, six chaplains, four clerks, 6 choristers and the parish priest. Barnard Castle was endowed with lands to the value of 400 marks (£266 13s 4d) and Middleham to the tune of 200 marks (£133 6s 8d), which like Fulmer rectory was property late of the De Vere earls of Oxford.⁴⁶ Perhaps the services began at once, for the churches were already there, but the collegiate buildings had not proceeded very far by Richard’s death. The endowments were retrieved by John, Earl of Oxford after 1485, rendering the foundations ultimately abortive. Apart from advancing the Gloucesters’ souls and enhancing their household liturgy, these colleges may also have been intended as mausolea to replace those at Warwick and Tewkesbury allotted to Clarence although, it seems, Edward of Middleham may have been interred at Sheriff Hutton. Finally they augmented most prestigiously Anne’s family seats and her Neville connection: it was her traditions that were celebrated here, surely with her approval if not primarily at her initiative. As always, however, we cannot really tell.