During her childhood, Katherine had benefited from the tutelage and example of Queen Philippa; now she was to come under the admirable influence of another great lady, the new Duchess of Lancaster, who was about eight years her senior and one of her former companions in the Queen's household.
The exquisite Blanche of Lancaster was the daughter of the King's cousin, the 'valiant' and 'well-respected' Henry of Grosmont, Duke of Lancaster.1 While Edward III was the grandson of Edward I, Duke Henry was the grandson of Edward I's younger brother, Edmund Crouchback, who had been created Earl of Lancaster in 1267 and died in 1296. Earl Edmund's eldest son, Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, had been executed for treason in 1322 by Edward II, but his younger brother, blind Henry, had been restored to the earldom two years later. Duke Henry was the latter's son. He had succeeded his father as Earl of Lancaster in 1345, and been created Duke in 1351, the second man in the realm ever to be raised to ducal rank, the first being the Black Prince, who had been created Duke of Cornwall in 1337.
Henry of Grosmont, who could have doubled for Chaucer's 'perfect, gentle knight', was the greatest nobleman in the kingdom. Not only was he Duke of Lancaster, but also Earl of Derby, Earl of Leicester, Earl of Lincoln, and Lord of Beaufort and Nogent in France. Consequently, his landed interests were vast. He was the greatest of the magnates, an experienced and masterly general, and utterly loyal to the King, who thought very highly of him and treated him as a valued friend. The Duke was a tall and imposing figure, genial and suave. He liked the fine things in life: good food and wine, luxurious and tasteful surroundings, and the robust charms of common women. Yet he was also temperate, pious and charitable, the founder of many religious houses, churches and hospitals.
Henry's duchess was Isabella de Beaumont; sadly, they had no son to succeed to his great inheritance. Instead, there were two daughters, Matilda and Blanche. Matilda of Lancaster had probably been born in 1340; after a brief first marriage, to Ralph de Stafford, which saw her widowed by the age of ten, she had been married in 1352 in the King's Chapel at Westminster to William, Duke of Bavaria, who became Count of Holland in 1354 and Count of Hainault in 1356, on the death of his mother, the Countess Margaret; he was the son with whom the Countess had been briefly at war prior to this marriage, and it had been on his account that she had fled to England in 1351, bringing Paon de Roët with her.
After their wedding, Matilda went to Hainault to live with her husband, but in 1357 the insanity that was to render William incapable of ruling became alarmingly evident, and there were unfounded rumours attributing his madness to an attempt to poison him while he was in England. By 1358,he was being kept in confinement at The Hague, and later he was moved to the fortress of Quesnoy, where he remained shut up until his death thirty-one years later.’ There were no children born of his marriage to Matilda.
Blanche of Lancaster, the younger of Duke Henry's daughters, had probably been born on 25 March 1342. She spent some of her formative years at court in the care of Queen Philippa, and came to know the royal family well. As we have seen, Katherine and Philippa de Roët were among her younger companions.
Edward III, needing to provide for his rapidly expanding family, was vigorously pursuing his successful policy of marrying his sons to English heiresses, and so consolidating his own interests and binding nobles and Crown closer together. Blanche was the greatest unmarried heiress in England, and Edward was determined to marry her to his third surviving son, John of Gaunt, and secure for John her share of the rich Lancaster patrimony. On 7 June 1358, the King petitioned Pope Innocent VI for a dispensation allowing the young couple to wed — they were within the forbidden degrees of consanguinity — which was granted on 8 January I359.
It was in honour of the memory of 'Blanche the Fair' that Geoffrey Chaucer later wrote his dream poem, The Boke of the Duchesse.7 Allusions in the text make this clear: Chaucer uses the word 'Duchess' in the tide, and there was only one duchess in England at the time; he makes a play on Blanche's name, calling her 'my Lady White', or 'good, fair White'; and he refers to 'a long castle' (Lancaster), St John (the Duke's name-saint) and 'a rich mount' (a pun for Richmond, John's earldom). The context of the poem will be discussed in Chapter 4, but it contains a eulogistic description of Blanche, whom Chaucer calls 'the flower of English womanhood':
'Gay and glad she was, fresh and sportive, sweet, simple [i.e. straight-forward] and of humble semblance, the fair lady whom men call Blanche.'
Chaucer's description reveals that, like her father, Blanche was intelligent, well-mannered, self-controlled and moderate in behaviour, 'not too grave and not too gay'. Her speech was 'low-toned and gentle', friendly and eloquent, and her character 'inclined to good'. She was no flatterer, but was truthful, 'devoid of malice' and never voiced a criticism. Happy and carefree in her demeanour, she was 'like a torch so bright that everyone could take its light’. Froissart echoes Chaucer's praise of Blanche, calling her 'gay, sociable,gentle, of humble semblance' and above all 'good'.
There is a corbel head that is said to be Blanche at Edington Priory in Wiltshire, and a statue of a girl holding a pet monkey, whom some have identified as her, on Queen Philippa's tomb in Westminster Abbey, but these are in no sense portraits; nor can we glean any idea of what she looked like from drawings of her tomb effigy, because the effigy depicted is not the original that was sculpted in the fourteenth century. So it is to Chaucer that we must turn for a detailed description of Blanche. Her hair, he says, was 'glittering golden', her eyes 'gentle and good, steadfast yet glad, not set too wide'. She did not 'shyly glance aside', but gazed openly with a 'candid mien' that was 'free of artfulness' and in no way wanton. Here, one suspects, was a young woman who knew her own worth, for although her look 'made men smart' with desire, she affected not to notice: 'well she guarded her good name'. Her lovely face was 'pink and white, fresh, lively-hued, [the] highest example of Nature's work'; her neck was graceful, her shoulders lovely, her breasts rounded, her skin unblemished. She was tall and straight-backed, with 'well-broad' hips, and her arms and legs were 'well-clothed in flesh', suggesting a degree of plumpness that was fashionable in the fourteenth century.
It has often been asserted that Chaucer's Boke of the Duchesse is not intended as a realistic portrayal of Blanche; undoubtedly, the poem was conceived as a dream sequence, and it was inspired by several well-known works: those of Ovid and Froissart, the popular mediaeval romance poem, Le Roman de la Rose, and the innovative verse of the avant-garde French writer and composer, Guillaume de Machaut Yet although Chaucer's laudatory and idealised description of Blanche conforms to the literary conventions of the age, it does convey an impression of a real person. After all, this poem would have been circulated at court and amongst the Duke's circle, so its portrayal of Blanche and her relationship with John of Gaunt would have had to be recognisable and convincing to those who had known her well. And Blanche may well have been lucky enough to have had the kind of looks that were fashionable in that period. Furthermore, Chaucer himself was a member of the royal household when he wrote the poem; he knew John of Gaunt and the rest of the royal family. So what he wrote must to a degree have been drawn from life.
John of Gaunt had been born probably in March (certainly by 28 May) 1340 at St Bavon's Abbey in Ghent, Flanders9 — hence his appellation, 'Gaunt' being an English corruption of'Ghent'. He was always to demonstrate a sense of affiliation with the country of his birth, and with Hainault, his mother's birthplace. This affinity might partly explain why he would be attracted to Katherine Swynford, herself a Hainaulter.
His early years had been spent in the care of a nurse, Isolda Newman, under the supervision of his mother, Queen Philippa. 'The Lord John' was created Earl of Richmond on 20 November 1342, the King himself solemnly girding the two-year-old child with the sword of his earldom, which had been held by the Dukes of Brittany since the Norman Conquest, and was vacant on account of the death of the last Duke, whose infant heir had been passed over." This earldom brought young John an income of 2,000 marks(£303,882) per annum. At the age of three, with his father and his elder brothers, he was accepted into the confraternity of Lincoln Cathedral, thus forging the first of his close links and attachment to Lincoln, its cathedral chapter" and the social orbit of the Swynford family.
John's nurse was pensioned off in February I346, at which time he would have been assigned a male governor to oversee his education and his training in the knightly arts. We know little about his childhood, but all the evidence suggests that he was fond of his parents — he was especially close to his mother — and his siblings, and grew up in a happy, stable family, which was not always the case where royal princes were concerned.
Above all, John would have grown up to the heady awareness that his father the King was winning great victories over the French and international renown, and that his glorious brother, the Black Prince, ten years his senior, had assisted most nobly in achieving those victories. It was an era of growing national confidence and pride, and the young John's world was surely dominated by triumphal heroes.
One man whose influence on John was paramount was Henry, Duke of Lancaster, the man whom, next to his father and eldest brother, he seems to have revered most. In Duke Henry, he had before him the example of a great lord who was honourable, trustworthy and pious, and doubtless the young John thrilled to tales of the Duke's youthful crusading adventures and his distinguished victories over the Scots and the French. He seems to have spent his life trying to emulate Henry of Lancaster, from his military successes and diplomatic achievements to his charitable enterprises and elegant mode of living.
On 29 August 1350, when he was only ten years old, John first saw active service in the war with France, when he accompanied his father and the Black Prince on a naval expedition that ended in a dramatic victory over enemy ships off Winchelsea, with the King capturing twenty vessels. John was too young to take part, but Froissart says his father had taken him along 'because he much loved him’. And that decision nearly proved fatal, for the ship carrying the King and his sons was rammed by an enemy vessel and began to sink; they were saved only through the courageous intervention of Duke Henry, who brought his ship alongside that of the aggressor, boarded it and heroically rescued them. For John, it was a salutary initiation into the realities of warfare, and another reason for hero-worshipping the Duke.
John was always close to his eldest brother, whom he obviously looked up to and tried — apparently without jealousy — to emulate, and from at least 1 March 1350 until 20 May 1355, he lived in the Black Prince's household, residing with him mainly at Berkhamsted Castle and the manor of Byfleet in Surrey. The Prince acted as a mentor to the boy, and supervised his training in arms; according to Froissart, he was 'very fond' of John and always referred to him as his 'very dear and well-beloved brother'.
In July 1355, the fifteen-year-old John received the accolade of knighthood, whose chivalrous tenets he was to follow to the best of his ability all his life. That year, he served on a campaign in France under Duke Henry, and in the winter of 1355-6, he was in Scodand with the King, forcing a stand-down by the Scots that became known as 'Burnt Candlemas'; John was a witness to their surrender of Berwick on 13 January 1356. The young man's qualities evidently impressed the Scots, because in 1357 they proposed naming him as the successor to their childless King David II, a plan that - sadly for John - came to nothing. John was to retain a special understanding and respect for the Scots throughout his career, and would achieve significant diplomatic successes with them in future years.
In The Boke of the Duchesse, Chaucer, who must have come to know John of Gaunt fairly well, and observed him on many occasions, has him say that from his youth he had 'most faithfully paid tribute as a devotee to love, most unrestrainedly, and joyfully become his thrall, with willing body, heart and all', and that he had carried on in this fashion 'for ages, many and many a year', with 'lightness' and 'wayward thoughts'. But his only recorded early love affair was with Marie de St Hilaire (or Hilary), one of his mother'sdamoiselles, who, like Katherine Swynford, came from Hainault. According to Froissart, this youthful indiscretion, which almost certainly occurred when John was in his teens, resulted in the birth of an illegitimate child — the only one, apart from the Beauforts, that John ever acknowledged. Her name was Blanche, and the likelihood is that she was born well before his marriage to Blanche of Lancaster, probably in the later 1350s. Certainly no hostile chronicler mentioned the affair later on, nor attempted to make political capital out of it, which supports the theory that it happened before John came to political prominence.
In 1360, Edward III granted Marie an annuity of £20 (£5,779) per annum, the same amount as that given in 1359-60 to Joan de St Hilary (who was surely Marie's sister), and in 1367 to Elizabeth Chandos, two of Marie's fellow damoiselles; this parity suggests that the annuity, handsome as it was, and more than the other damoiselles ever received, was awarded as much for exceptional service to the Queen as to support the mother of the Queen's bastard granddaughter. Marie remained in Philippa's service until 1369, and was still alive in 1399, when she was in receipt of a pension from John of Gaunt 'for the good and agreeable service she has rendered for a long time to our honoured lady and mother, Philippa, late Queen of England'.Thus, in his characteristically honourable fashion, John provided for Marie and — as will be seen - their daughter all their lives.
John of Gaunt would surely have known Blanche of Lancaster well. Their fathers were cousins and staunch friends, and she was a frequent presence in the Queen's household. Given that they were close in age, John and Blanche - she was the younger by two years - may have been childhood playmates from infancy.
At Christmas 1357 and New Year 1358, John was a guest of his brother Lionel of Antwerp, Earl of Ulster, and the Countess Elizabeth at the Queen's manor of Hatfield, near Doncaster in Yorkshire. This was the gathering at which young Geoffrey Chaucer was also present, and it was perhaps the occasion on which the talented Chaucer first came to John's notice.
Blanche of Lancaster may also have been present at Hatfield, and if so, John may have taken the opportunity to pay court to her. It was six months later that Edward III applied for a dispensation for the young couple to marry.
Chaucer, in his Boke of the Duchesse, recalled John telling him that he was first taken with Blanche's charms after being struck by how vividly she stood out among a group of fair ladies:
In beauty, courtesy and grace,
In radiant modesty of face,
Fine bearing, virtue, every way ...
It was my sweet, her right true self —
Demeanour steadfast, calm and free,
And poise imbued with dignity.
He watched her dancing gracefully, singing and laughing, and noticed that her eyes were gracious, her voice 'warm with kindliness'. To him, she appeared 'a treasure house of utter bliss': 'that flower of womanhood was life and joy', the chief source of his 'well-being'. But when he embarked on his 'mighty quest' to win her love, he initially met with cool rejection. Blanche 'gave no false encouragement; she spurned such petty artifice'. Her ardent swain composed songs that, while 'not well done', were written 'in passion for my heart's delight', but he held back from confessing to her how much pain he was suffering on her account, fearing lest she might take offence at his presumption. Yet in the end, 'I had to tell her, or die.' Quaking in dread, he declared his love and devotion, swore 'to guard her honour evermore', and begged for mercy, not daring to look Blanche in the eye. Afterwards, he could not recall exactly what her response had been, but 'the gist of it was simply "No"'.
Thus rejected, John stole away and hid his sorrow for many days. But his desire was such that he determined to persist in his suit, intent on overcoming all resistance, and in the end, after many months, he joyfully won the heart of his lady. 'To seal the gift, she gave a ring', which to him was 'the utmost precious thing'; he felt as if he had been 'from death to life upcast'.
All this would have had little relevance to the realities of royal matchmaking, but it had everything to do with the game of courtly love, and no doubt the young and ardent John of Gaunt took full advantage of the opportunities afforded by that convention, for all that his was essentially an arranged marriage. From what Chaucer tells us, we may infer that he set himself to win Blanche's heart as well as her hand. For him, she would always be 'my lady bright, whom I have loved with all my might'.
There is other testimony beside Chaucer's to support the claim that John did fall in love with Blanche: his apparent faithfulness to her through all their years of marriage; his inconsolable grief at her passing; his enduring homage to her memory; and his desire to be buried beside her. Of course, that could equally have been inspired by a wish to be laid to rest beside the woman from whom he had derived his title and wealth, and who was the mother of his heir, but taken with all the other evidence, it would appear to have been motivated by deep affection and tender memories too.
And given that this was a love match, it is feasible that John's ardour for his lady was well established by the time he spent that Christmas at Hatfield, for Chaucer tells us that Blanche kept him at bay for a year. This combination of true love and political and dynastic desirability was most unusual in that era of arranged marriages — but John of Gaunt was more than once to prove unconventional when it came to love and marriage.
John of Gaunt and Blanche of Lancaster were married on Sunday 19 May 1359 in a lavish ceremony in the Queen's Chapel at Reading Abbey, one of the foremost Benedictine monasteries in the realm. He was nineteen, she seventeen. Thomas de Chynham, clerk of the Queen's Chapel, officiated, and Robert Wyvil, Bishop of Salisbury, pronounced the benediction. John's wedding gift to Blanche was a gold ring with a great diamond set in pearls.
Two weeks of festivities followed the wedding. There were feasts, boat races and three days of jousting in the meadows on the banks of the Thames. Then the royal family and their guests rode to London, where tournaments were held over a further three days at Smithfield, before huge crowds. Here, the King, his four eldest sons and nineteen of his lords disguised themselves as the Lord Mayor and aldermen of London, acquitted themselves with great honour in the lists, then revealed their true identity, to the lyrical delight of the spectators. Alongside the captive Kings of France and Scotland, the Queen was watching, along with her daughters and her ladies, and it is more than likely that the Roët sisters were present too.
If Chaucer is to be believed, John's love for Blanche deepened after marriage, and he was convinced he could not have chosen a better wife, for she was good, loyal and true,'the queen of all my body'. Throughout their marriage, he 'belonged to her entire': there is no record of him dishonouring his marriage vows, and no breath of scandal tainted his name, which is in sharp contrast to the reputation he was to gain during his second marriage. Chaucer has John declare,
'Our joy was ever fresh and new,
Our hearts were so in harmony
That neither was ever contrary
To the other heart when sorrows came.'
In truth, they bore all things the same
Whatever joy or grief they had.
Alike, they were both glad or sad;
'Assured in union we were,
And thus we lived for many a year,
So well, I cannot tell you how'
Although Blanche was younger than John, and sworn to obedience and subservience to him, Chaucer implies that he always deferred to her. For –
When I was wrong and she was right, Always in generosity [She] forgave me most becomingly. In every youthful circumstance She took me in her governance. Always her counsel was so true.
It is worthy of notice that, in his idyllic portrayal of the married love between John and Blanche, Chaucer made a dramatic departure from contemporary literary practice, in which marriage is often seen as sounding the death-knell to love, which can only truly flourish in an illicit or courtly context. This striking departure itself suggests that the conjugal relationship between John and Blanche was unusually close and tender.
It is tempting to speculate on the kind of sexual relationship those two shared. Chaucer makes it clear that Blanche had a degree of worldly knowledge and an understanding of good and evil, but says her self-esteem was such that she would not permit any diminution of respect towards her person. One would imagine that the young John, with his well-bred ideals of love and chivalry, treated his wife with deference, and even reverence, in bed. A later assertion by the chronicler Thomas Walsingham, that John brought prostitutes to share in bedtime romps with his understandably distressed wife, is almost certainly malicious and groundless, and invented purely for the purposes of character assassination.
Devoted as she was, Blanche, unlike the Queen, did not accompany her husband on his frequent expeditions overseas.26 First, John was usually sent abroad on military campaigns in which there was no place for women; and second, Blanche was frequentlypregnant.
The young couple were both pious, and took their spiritual life very seriously. They were joint founder members St Mary's College next to St David's Cathedral in Wales;-7 they petitioned the Pope for the right to choose or change their confessors, for permission for themselves and members of their households to have portable altars, and for 'plenary remission [of sins] at the hour of death'. Like most aristocratic ladies, Blanche undertook charitable works, and in 1367, she successfully pleaded with the King to pardon a condemned murderer.
As we have seen, Blanche won high praise from Chaucer and Froissart, both of whom knew her personally. She could read and write, had literary interests and enjoyed poetry, so she may have been their patron. Thomas Speght, in his 1602 edition of Chaucer's works, claims that one of the poet's earliest poems, 'An ABC was 'made, as some say, at the request of Blanche, Duchess of Lancaster, as a prayer for her private use, being a woman in her religion very devout'. Speght may have had access to sources that are lost to us, but his claim cannot be proved because there are no perceptible allusions to Blanche in 'An ABC'.
Blanche conceived her first child by the end of June 1359, and was four months pregnant when her husband left England on 28 October to accompany the King on a new military expedition to France, Edward III being determined to have himself crowned at Rheims. It was on this campaign that Geoffrey Chaucer was captured by the French and had to be ransomed.
Blanche's baby, named Philippa in honour of the Queen (who was probably her godmother), was born on 31 March 1360. Out of the concern that we feel for her condition', Edward III had arranged for Blanche to stay with the Queen for the last months before her confinement,33 but her child was actually born at Leicester Castle: on 21 May, Philippa paid the expenses of the ceremony to mark her daughter-in-law's 'uprising' (or 'churching') at Leicester.34 The midwife in attendance had perhaps been 'our well-beloved Elyot, midwife of Leicester', who later attended John's second-wife and Katherine Swynford, and was rewarded for her services in both cases.
Blanche had her own household, separate from that of her husband, with her own staff of officers, ladies and servants. There is no record of Katherine de Roët being in that household before 24 January 1365 — when she is referred to as Blanche's ancille(maidservant) — but John of Gaunt's registers for this period have not survived, so it is quite possible that Katherine was serving the Countess considerably earlier than that, and had been placed by the Queen in Blanche's nursery in 1360 to help care for the new baby, possibly as a rocker, a job often assigned to a young girl of Katherine's age, which was then about ten years. Froissart just says that 'in her youth, she had been of the household of the Duchess Blanche of Lancaster', but he doesn't specify how old she was at the time.
The female attendants of noblewomen were routinely required to help care for their mistress's offspring, and given Katherine's later appointment as governess, and her evident rapport with the young, it would appear that she had early on gained experience in looking after children and demonstrated a talent for it, thus earning the confidence of her employers. It may be that Katherine's placement with the Duchess
Blanche came about as a result of arrangements that were made by the Queen when the pregnant Blanche was staying with her, and that Katherine was one of those who travelled with the Countess to Leicester.
Leicester Castle, the principal seat of the Earls of Leicester, was to become one of John of Gaunt's favourite residences, probably because of its associations with Duke Henry; John 'especially loved to be with his household' here, keeping great state, entertaining lavishly and hunting in nearby Leicester Forest, where he had a substantial hunting box called — delightfully — Bird's Nest. And he was popular in Leicester, for thanks to his frequent presence in their midst, the townsfolk enjoyed greater prosperity than they had ever known.
Over the years, Katherine would probably stay in Leicester Castle on many occasions. It had been built in 1068-88 and extended in the middle of the twelfth century, when the great aisled hall of stone that John and Katherine knew, with its lofty roof of braced beams, was put up; below were cellars or dungeons. Inside the castle was the ancient Saxon church of St Mary de Castro, which had been rebuilt in the twelfth century by the earls of Leicester; its slender spire was added in the fourteenth century.
In the outer ward of the castle was the Hospital of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin, founded by Henry, Earl of Lancaster, in 1331 for the care of the poor and infirm of Leicester. This foundation was extended by his son, Duke Henry, in the 1350s to house a precious relic, a thorn from the Crown of Thorns, and it was at that time that the small but 'exceeding fair' collegiate church of St Mary was built beside it, with cloisters and pretty houses for the prebendaries. The whole area of four acres, which was enclosed by the thick castle wall and accessed by a stately triple-arched and vaulted gateway, became known as the novum opus, or the new work, which was soon being colloquially referred to as the Newarke, a name still in use today.
Whether Katherine was in Blanche's household sooner rather than later, she had again been exceedingly fortunate in being placed with a kind and affectionate mistress. Blanche's many qualities would have made her an easy person to serve, and her piety and literary interests were bound to have made some impression upon a young and intelligent girl of Katherine's age. In Blanche, Katherine could profit from the example of a lady who conducted herself with dignity and honour, who was moderate in all her doings, with an effortless grace and serene demeanour, and who expected and received the respect that was her due, not just as a duchess but as a woman. The young and impressionable Katherine would have observed too the great love that lay between the Duke and his lady, and perhaps hoped that she herself, in due course, would find such unusual happiness in marriage.
Katherine spent her youth, indeed her life, in the shadow of the Hundred Years War, but in 1360 that war was going well for England. Having failed to assert his claim to the Crown of France, Edward III had resorted to diplomacy, and on 8 May concluded the Treaty of Bretigny, which ceded to him all the lands he had won by conquest as well as an extended duchy of Aquitaine in full sovereignty. On 18 May, the King and his sons returned home to England in triumph, John having the added joy of greeting his new daughter. On 20 May, doubtless in recognition of his son's good service in France, the King granted John the honour and castle of Hertford and other property/3
Hertford Castle was a residence that suitably befitted the exalted estate of the young Earl and Countess of Richmond. Formerly the property of John's grandmother, Isabella of France (the widow of Edward II), who had died in 1358, it had been built three centuries before by William the Conqueror on low-lying land on the encircling banks of the River Lea. Successive monarchs had embellished the hall, chapel and royal apartments, but the ancient fortifications had crumbled, and never been replaced because there was no longer any need for them in this more peaceful age. Hertford was also conveniently situated, being within easy riding distance of London and Westminster. John of Gaunt instituted an ongoing programme of lavish improvements there, transforming the castle into a virtual palace, and unsurprisingly, it remained one of his favourite residences all his life.
John was abroad again, in France with the King, from August to November 1360, and on 20 November received his first summons to Parliament, as Earl of Richmond. This marked his debut in political life.
The year 1361 saw another virulent outbreak of the dreaded Black Death, which claimed no less than a quarter of the already decimated population of England. Its most notable victim was the widely mourned Henry, Duke of Lancaster, who died on 23 March and was buried near the high altar in St Mary's Church in the Newarke at Leicester, the foundation he himself had handsomely endowed, doubtless intending it to serve as a mausoleum for the House of Lancaster; the church was unfinished at his death, and it was left to John of Gaunt to take Duke Henry's place as its patron and pay for its completion.
Not long afterwards, the Duchess of Lancaster also died of plague at Leicester. She too was buried in the Newarke. Losing both her parents at almost the same time must have been a terrible blow to poor Blanche, who was probably pregnant with her second child.
But Duke Henry's death brought about a spectacular change in John of Gaunt's fortunes, for the dead man's great titles and estates were to be divided between his two co-heiresses, whose husbands would inherit them in their right.’5 Not surprisingly, Edward III acted swiftly: only two days after the Duke expired, in the absence of Matilda of Lancaster, who was in Hainault, John was granted temporary custody of all the Duke's lands until a fair division could be made.
Resplendent in 'a scarlet robe embroidered with garters of blue taffeta', John was admitted by the King to the Order of the Garter that April. Edward III had founded this prestigious order of chivalry in 1348, in honour of England's patron saint, St George, and in emulation of King Arthur's Round Table. Its motto, Honi soit qui mal y pense (Evil be to he who evil thinks), is said to have originated when, in the face of much coarse jesting on the part of his courtiers, the King gallantly retrieved the Countess of Salisbury's garter, which had slipped off while she was dancing; the motto was adapted from the words he used to rebuke the onlookers, adding that they would soon see the garter much honoured. Membership of the order was limited to the King and twenty-five knights, and admittance to it was one of the highest accolades of chivalry. The Queen herself was an associate member, as a Dame of the Fraternity of the Garter, and one day, Katherine Swynford too would be associated with this famous order.
In July 1361, the Lancaster inheritance was apportioned between Matilda and Blanche, by mutual consent: Matilda - who now hastened back to England - succeeded as Countess of Leicester, and Blanche as Countess of Lancaster, Lincoln and Derby; from henceforth, in right of his wife, John of Gaunt was earl of those counties, and in possession of the vast northern estates that went with these great tides.49 He also became Lord of Beaufort and Nogent in France, Lord High Steward (or Seneschal) of England (his hereditary right as Earl of Lincoln) and Constable of Chester. Overnight, he had become immensely rich and powerful.
The royal family spent Christmas 1361 at Berkhamsted Castle as guests of the Black Prince and his bride, Joan of Kent, whom he had married in October. The marriage had occasioned no little stir within the royal family, because Joan had a scandalous past; Queen Philippa in particular was unhappy about it, although she had attended the wedding. But the Black Prince had been determined to marry Joan. She was 'in her time the most beautiful lady in all the realm of England, and the most amorous, famous for the extravagance of her dress', and their precipitate secret wedding suggests that the Prince was in love with her — Froissart calls it a love match. As far back as 1348, Edward had given his cousin 'Jeanette' a silver beaker; the nickname suggests a long familiarity between them, and of course they would have known each other from childhood. Because of the illicit nature of their marriage — which took place without the King's knowledge, and had to be solemnised a second time after the requisite dispensation had been granted — the Pope required the Prince and Princess to do penance. If it had been unusual for John and Blanche to find love in an arranged union, it was astonishing for the heir to the throne, the most desirable catch in Europe, to marry for love, and gain no political or material advantage from it. But despite this, and the misgivings of her in-laws, Joan proved to be a model Princess of Wales, being of a gentle and kindly nature, a peacemaker by inclination, a loyal and loving wife who kept well out of public affairs — and a good friend to John of Gaunt.
This would be the last Christmas the Black Prince was to spend with his family for many years. In July 1362, the King created him Duke of Aquitaine, and he and the Princess crossed the sea to take up permanent residence in Bordeaux.
The childless Matilda of Lancaster died unexpectedly in England on 9 April 1362. John of Gaunt had much to gain from her death, for it brought him the other half of the Lancastrian inheritance, his wife Blanche being Matilda's sole heir, and made him the most powerful man in the realm after the King; he would now own about one third of all England, and enjoy an annual income of approximately £12,803, (£442,075), which far exceeded that of any other peer, only a lucky few realising even £4,000 (£1,075,396).
The acquisition of such wealth — his landed estate was worth £43 billion in today's values - gave rise to the first of the many scurrilous rumours that were to blight John's life. By June 1362, when he and Blanche were touring their new estates and came to Leicester Castle, the 'vulgar repute' that Matilda had been poisoned by her brother-in-law was rife. In fact, it appears that the rumours were entirely baseless, and that, like her parents, she had died of plague.55 But these calumnies never quite went away.
To mark his own fiftieth birthday on 13 November 1362, Edward III formally created John of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster: ‘and then our lord the King invested his said son John with the sword [and] garbed him with a fur cape and above it a gold circlet'; at the same time, John's brothers Lionel and Edmund, his junior by a year, were created Duke of Clarence and Earl of Cambridge respectively.56 From now on John would be known as 'Monseigneur de Lancaster'.
The Duchy of Lancaster was effectively a state within a state, with lands and property extending mainly across the Midlands, the North and the Welsh Marches, hundreds of manors, a well-oiled administration and vast revenues. John was to spend the bulk of his income on maintaining, rebuilding or remodelling his numerous castles, houses and estates, keeping his enormous household and retinue, affording the lavish hospitality and gifts that were expected of a great prince, financing military expeditions and diplomatic trips, and providing for his growing family.
The new Duke's establishment now increased in size and splendour to reflect his magnificence. Only the King's was greater. John had his own council, receiver-general, secretariat and hierarchy of household officers, as well as an army of officials to administer and care for his estates and properties. His household numbered 115 persons, and he maintained the greatest and most powerful noble retinue in the kingdom/a chivalrous company' of between 160 and 200 men, including between 80 and 125 'highly-regarded knights conspicuous for their courtly and chivalrous skills', who were required to model themselves on King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table. They were bound to the Duke by indentures, having promised to serve him in times of war and peace in return for more-than-generous annuities, grants of land, liberal patronage and the social prestige that came from being allied to so great a magnate. Needless to say, demand for places in the Duke's retinue was high. John of Gaunt's retainers and servants sported his livery of white and blue, and the officers of his household wore the famous Lancastrian livery collar of linked Ss.
A survey of the ducal warrants shows that John exercised a close degree of personal interest in all aspects of his affairs, and that he was frequently generous, benevolent and merciful to his bondsmen and tenants, showing himself 'in all his actions good and gentle'. He ensured that their dwellings were kept in good repair, excused them rents and dues in times of hardship, and willingly permitted them to go on pilgrimage or take holy orders. He distributed £2 (£626) in alms every Friday and Saturday, sent gifts of firewood to the poor lepers of Leicester, and wine to the prisoners in Newgate gaol. He allowed his villeins to perform their service of carrying wood to his castle at Tutbury in summer, to spare them the discomfort of doing it in the winter cold. The chronicler Knighton, who lauded him for his clemency, tells how he refused to hang certain servants who had stolen some of his silver, declaring,'No man should lose his life for my chattels.' In the years to come, Katherine Swynford herself would benefit repeatedly from John's open-handedness and consideration.
Thanks to the enormous wealth and power that had come to him through his magnificent marriage, John of Gaunt was for the rest of his life to play a leading role at the centre of English — and indeed international - politics. And with the Black Prince in Aquitaine, and Lionel serving as the King's deputy in Ireland, John, at just twenty-two, was now the most important man in England after the monarch himself. Edward III quickly came to rely on him, as both a soldier and a diplomat, although it must be said that he was to enjoy considerably more success in the latter capacity. The acquisition of the Lancaster inheritance also gave John the capacity to raise large armies from his estates, and so play a prominent role in the war with France. At home, he was to be active in Parliament and highly influential at court.
It was an honour to serve such a prince, and a signal responsibility to help nurture the ducal children, which is what Katherine de Roët was probably doing at this time. And she would have been kept busy. Around 1362 (or 1364), Blanche bore a son and heir, John, who tragically died young, probably before 4 May 1366, when his mother gave birth to another son who was also named John. The first John was probably still living in 1365, when a second son Edward was born; the fact that two of the ducal sons were called John after their father suggests that this was the name of choice for the heir, so we may infer from the use of the name Edward for the second son that the first John still lived when he was born, but that the latter had died by the time the third son was given the same name. This first John was probably the child buried under an arch near the high altar in St Mary's Church in the Newarke at Leicester. By 21 February 1363, Blanche was also the mother of a second daughter, Elizabeth, having borne three children in less than three years.
Like all great mediaeval households, John of Gaunt's was itinerant, moving around the country to satisfy the demands of politics, estate business, law enforcement, hunting and the social calendar. The Duke himself would ride from house to house, resplendent on his hunting courser, but kept horse-drawn carriages for the use of his wife and children. The whole household went with them, accompanied by a long train of carts, pack-horses and sumpter mules carrying furniture, hangings, household effects, clothing, documents and the ornaments of the ducal chapel.64
Nearly every summer. John made a habit of spending time on his lands in the Midlands and the North. Katherine would soon have become familiar with an array of luxurious Lancastrian residences, including the imposing castles at Kenilworth, Higham Ferrers, Bolingbroke, Tutbury, Knaresborough and Pontefract — there were more than thirty in all. But for much of the rest of the year, John was at Hertford or in London, and when he was in the capital, he was to be found at his chief residence, the magnificent palace of the Savoy, the pride of his properties and the outward symbol of his greatness. It was here that he entertained visiting royalty and ambassadors, who were invariably suitably impressed by their luxurious surroundings.
The Savoy Palace, that 'very fine building on the Thames', was to figure large in Katherine's life. Standing a mile beyond the western walls of the City of London, amongst the aristocratic and episcopal mansions that lined the Strand on the Thames side, it occupied a large area that today stretches from Waterloo Bridge to Durham House Street. In those days, the Strand was paved as far as the Savoy. The churches of St Mary-le-Strand and St Clement Danes stood a little to the north-east, and the convent gardens of Westminster Abbey (now Covent Garden) were opposite. Further east was the Temple and beyond it the City of London itself. Immediately to the south of the palace was the London residence of John's 'faithful friend', the Bishop of Carlisle, then beyond it the house of the Bishop of Durham, the cross at Charing built in memory of Edward I's queen, Eleanor of Castile, the Church of St Martin-in-the-Fields and the Hospital of St Mary of Rouncevalles, which enjoyed John of Gaunt's patronage and stood at the entrance to the present Northumberland Avenue. Beyond it, as the Thames curved south, lay York Place, the town palace of the Archbishops of York, and Westminster, the seat of government, with its imposing royal palace and abbey.
The Savoy Theatre (built 1881) and the Savoy Hotel (built 1889) now occupy 'the Precinct of the Savoy' in which the palace was sited, and Savoy Street, Savoy Place, Savoy Way, Savoy Steps, Savoy Row, Savoy Court, Savoy Buildings and Savoy Hill are reminders of it. The Duchy of Lancaster, which is now incorporated in the Crown, still has its offices where the mighty palace once stood, in Lancaster Place by Waterloo Bridge.
Although there had been a mansion on the site as early as 1189, the original Savoy Palace was built by Peter, Count of Savoy, an uncle of Henry Ill's queen, Eleanor of Provence, in the thirteenth century. In 1245, Peter was granted a parcel of land east ofWestminster 'in that street called the Strand', and in 1263 raised a palace there. It is his gilded statue that stands above the doorway of the modern Savoy Hotel. In his will, he bequeathed this property to the Hospice of St Bernard, a monastic community in Savoy, from whom Queen Eleanor purchased it for her son, Edmund Crouchback, Earl of Lancaster, in 1284. In the 1350s, at a cost of £35,000 (£13,660,715), his grandson, Henry, Duke of Lancaster,'entirely rebuilt' the Savoy as a sumptuous palace, paying for it out of the profits he had made in the Hundred Years War. In 1357-60, the captive King John II of France enjoyed 'a most agreeable' stay at the Savoy, and when he returned to England as a hostage in 1364, he specifically asked to stay there; he died there in April of that year.
The palace was reputed to be the most beautiful and opulent building in England — it was 'a marvellous structure unmatched in the kingdom', 'the fairest manor in Europe', 'unto which there was none in the realm to be compared in beauty, splendour, nobility and stateliness'. It rivalled even the King's great palace at Westminster. It was built on a quadrangular collegiate plan; at its core was a magnificent great hall, which was surrounded by domestic and service ranges erected around courtyards and connected by cloisters and alleyways; the ducal apartments lay behind the great hall, and had windows facing the river. The whole precinct was surrounded by a fortified wall, bisected by a massive gateway with a portcullis on the Strand, a smaller gate next to it for pedestrians, and a river gate at the side. There was a chapel to the right of the front gateway, a library, a treasure chamber, extensive wine cellars, accommodation for an army of servants and retainers, stables, orchards, a fish pond and beautiful rose and vegetable gardens with ornamental rails and flower borders, all sloping down to the Thames; the Duke loved his gardens, and actively involved himself in their planning and maintenance. At the rear of the palace, elegant terraces overlooked the Thames, which in the fourteenth century was much wider and shallower than it is today. A low wall ran along the river's edge, and stairs led down to the landing stages, where barges could be moored. With the narrow streets of London so congested, most people preferred to travel by river. John's richly appointed barges -he bought a new one in 1373 — had a master arid a crew of eight oarsmen, and he would use them whenever he wished to visit the court at Westminster or, later on, the Black Prince at Kennington Palace on the Surrey shore of the Thames.
John of Gaunt made yet more improvements to the Savoy. He employed the great master mason, Henry Yevele, whose work can still be seen in Westminster Hall, Westminster Abbey and Canterbury Cathedral. Yevele was much in demand, for it was he who refined and improved the new Perpendicular style of architecture, with its flattened arches and fan vaulting; he had worked for the Black Prince at Kennington, and would do so for Edward III and Richard II at Westminster, the Tower of London, Eltham Palace, Sheen Palace and Leeds Castle. John of Gaunt also commissioned Henry Yevele to make improvements to Hertford Castle.
The interiors of the Savoy were sumptuous. The furniture, rich beds and headboards — one of which, emblazoned with heraldic shields, was said to be worth 1,000 marks (£125,221) — French tapestries,7, silk hangings, gold and silver plate, stained glass, carpets, cushions, fine napery and ornaments all afforded lavish evidence of the Duke's immense wealth and superb taste. His registers record payments for numerous luxury items, including jewelled goblets, devotional books with gem-encrusted leather bindings, images of the Virgin Mary, sculpted reliefs of the Crucifixion, enamels, and rich silks from Constantinople in the Lancastrian colours of blue and white. The contents of the palace alone were valued at £10,000 (£3,756,616), and those of the chapel at £500 (187,831). Nothing survives, but the tapestries must have been similar to those John owned in 1393,which depicted the Frankish King Clovis, Moses confronting Pharaoh, and The Life of the Lover and the Beloved. The palace was also the repository for John's priceless treasures, his armour, his furs and cloth of gold, his fabulous collection of jewels and precious stones, and his wardrobe. 'No prince in Christendom had a finer wardrobe, and scarcely any could even match it, for there were such quantities of vessels and silver plate that five carts would hardly suffice to carry them.' The Savoy housed too the Duke's secretariat and many of the written records, deeds and muniments of his Duchy.
Although he had his private apartments, John would have taken his meals in the great hall of his palace, at a table set on the dais or in a window embrasure, accompanied by his familia. This word applied not only to his family members, but also to the knights of his retinue, his confessor and honoured guests. The food was prepared by his master cook and an army of helpers, who worked in the various service departments: the kitchen, pantry, buttery, poultry, scullery and saltery. Dishes served at the ducal table included venison, game, salmon, bream, stockfish, herring, rabbit, poultry and lampreys. At the great feasts of the year - Christmas, Epiphany, Easter and Pentecost — the Duke's arrival in the hall was heralded by his trumpeters.7’
There is no way of knowing if the present Savoy Chapel, which is owned by the Queen as Duke of Lancaster, occupies the site of the original palace chapel, because no plans of the palace survive, and in the early sixteenth century, Henry VII 'beautifully rebuilt' the Savoy75 as the Hospital of St John, for the succour of the poor. This tiny gem of a chapel, which was part of Henry VII's foundation, suffered damage by fire in 1864, and was largely rebuilt in the Perpendicular style the following year by Queen Victoria; since1937, it has served as the Chapel of the Royal Victorian Order. Interestingly, the Savoy Chapel, like the hospital it served, was originally dedicated to St John the Baptist, one of John of Gaunt's own name-saints.
What was he like, this exalted Duke, in whose household Katherine lived, and whose amorous interest she would one day ignite? He is known to most people largely through his brief appearance in Shakespeare's Richard II, in which 'old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster' features as a dying elder statesman who makes a famously patriotic speech about the kingdom he has loyally served for many decades:
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war;
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea ...
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings.
But this is not the sum of the man - far from it, for these sentiments are unlikely to have informed the thinking of the real John of Gaunt, who was a remarkable and complex character, entirely undeserving of the poor reputation cast upon him for centuries by historians and other writers, who mostly followed the calumnies of hostile chroniclers or accepted Sir John Fortescue's fifteenth-century view of John as the oppressive over-mighty subject par excellence. For them, he was an unscrupulous and immoral tyrant. It was not until 1904, with the appearance of Sydney Armitage-Smith's monumental biography, that a fairer and more considered view of John of Gaunt emerged.
For better or worse, John of Gaunt made a tremendous impact on the history of England; even today, oral traditions, legends and folk memories of him still survive throughout the Lancastrian 'countries', as his domains were called.78 His name is writ large in the annals of the age of chivalry. He was the greatest English nobleman of his time.
In appearance, even as a young man, John of Gaunt was commanding. In The Boke of the Duchesse, Chaucer gives us a tantalising glimpse of him at the age of twenty-eight, describing him as 'a splendidly looking knight ... of noble stature' with a 'stately manner'. Traditionally, it has been asserted that John was unusually tall, because from 1625 it was claimed that a suit of armour measuring 6'8" in height, which is still preserved in the Tower of London, had been made for him; in 1699, a visitor to the Tower admired its codpiece, 'which was almost as big as a poop-lantern, and better worth a lewd lady's admiration than any piece of antiquity in the Tower' but — sadly for those who relish such 'evidence' of the Duke's famed virility — it has now been established that this armour dates only from around 1540, was made in Germany, and has nothing to do with John of Gaunt.
The only other surviving description of John is to be found in the Portuguese chronicle written by Fernao Lopes, whose account was based on the recollections of people who had known the Duke. According to this, he was 'a man with his limbs well-built and straight'; spare and lean, 'he did not seem to have as much flesh as was required by the height of his body', yet he was vigorous and healthy, as befitted a warrior who played a prominent part in no fewer than a dozen military and naval campaigns, and had, according to Lopes,'high majestic features and piercing eyes'. Surviving representations of 'this vial full of Edward's sacred blood' depict a hollow-cheeked, bearded man with the angular bone-structure and aristocratic aquiline nose of the Plantagenets. In youth, John probably looked young for his years: in 1368, Chaucer thought he was twenty-four, when he was actually twenty-eight, but then he was 'not bushy-bearded at this stage'.
There are several surviving images that enable us to gain some idea of what John of Gaunt looked like. The earliest-known contemporary picture of him was in a mural depicting Edward III, his family and St George adoring the Virgin. This once adorned a wall at the eastern end of St Stephen's Chapel in the Palace of Westminster, and was painted after 1355, since Thomas of Woodstock, the King's youngest son, who was born that year, is included. In no sense were these portraits. Like his father and brothers, John appears in armour, kneeling. Although the faces of each of the eighteen-inch-high figures are all different, John's is a blank, for the paint had perished before the picture was copied. This mural, which had lain hidden under panelling for centuries, was discovered in 1800, only to be covered up again almost immediately, and then destroyed in the fire that burned down the palace in 1834. It is known only through coloured drawings made from tracings in 1800, which were engraved by Richard Smirke for the Society of Antiquaries of London.
John also appeared in armour on his tomb effigy, but the only surviving drawings of his lost tomb depict the effigy that replaced the original in the sixteenth century. His seal as King of Castile and Leon shows him enthroned, bearded and wearing a coronet over his chin-length hair. This is a conventional image of a king rather than a portrait.
There is a contemporary coloured miniature of John of Gaunt in the 'Liber Benefactorum' of St Albans Abbey, which dates from c.1380. This shows him at prayer, wearing a long gold and pink robe embroidered in red, with a gold collar, four large buttons down the front, red undersleeves and red boots; he sports wavy reddish-brown hair — again chin-length — crowned by a gold coronet, wears a fashionable forked beard and has somewhat florid features, the delineation of which suggests that the artist, a lay illuminator called Alan Strayler, knew what his subject looked like. John was about forty at this time.
There are posthumous stained-glass portraits of John of Gaunt in the chapel of All Souls College, Oxford, which was executed in 1437, and in the St Cuthbert memorial window in York Minster, which dates from c 1440. Parts of the head in the All Souls glass were replaced in the seventeenth century, but in both windows he is portrayed with the same forked beard as in the St Albans miniature, and bears a remarkable resemblance to his father, Edward III, as he appears in the effigy on his tomb in Westminster Abbey. The small statue of John as a weeper on that tomb, which dates from the same period as the St Albans miniature, also shows him with a forked beard and long gown. The beard would have been kept trimmed by the Duke's barber, Godfrey.
A panel portrait in oils of John of Gaunt, wearing armour and helm, in which his finely chiselled facial features bear a striking similarity to those in other representations of him, is in the collection of his descendant, the Duke of Beaufort, at Badminton. Once thought to have been painted from life in 1390, it is now known to have been executed between 1600 and 1650. It is ascribed to a Dutch artist called Luca Cornelli, of whom nothing more has been discovered; it was once claimed erroneously that he was a court painter to Henry VIII. There is a possibility that this vivid portrait is based on a lost original; interestingly, John is identified by his arms as King of Castile and Leon, and by the heraldic symbols of those kingdoms — a castle and three lions. As he renounced his claims to Castile and Leon in 1388, one would expect any later portrait to refer to him simply as Duke of Lancaster, so this portrait might possibly be a copy of one that was executed from life before 1388. Richard II, in whose reign such an original would have been painted, pioneered the novel art of royal portraiture in England, commissioning, in c.1395 or later, the Wilton Diptych and the commanding full-length portrait of himself enthroned that is now in Westminster Abbey. There may well have been other portraits of the King that have not survived, so it is not beyond the bounds of belief that an artist working in England under his patronage might also have painted John of Gaunt, the foremost lord in the realm, and that this is a copy of that lost original. Alternatively — since the pose is more typical of the seventeenth than the fourteenth century - the artist could have used John's funeral effigy in St Paul's as a model.
John dressed stylishly and elegantly, even magnificently, but there was an element of well-bred restraint about his clothes, unusual in that age of brash display. 'His garments were not full wide,' observed Thomas Hoccleve, but they did reflect his elevated status; like most aristocrats of the period, he loved ceremony, ritual and the outward trappings of rank.
John was reserved and dignified in character, a proud man who was ever conscious of the gravitas of his high estate. According to the laudatory Chandos Herald, he 'had many virtues'. Courteous and charming, he 'spoke well, very measured, temperately and with good judgement, being self-controlled and good-humoured'. Skilled in logic and rhetoric, he was a powerful orator and accomplished at debating; Froissart calls him 'wise and imaginative', and the author of the Anonimalle Chronicle describes him arguing his point in Parliament 'in good form, as if he was a man of law'. Edward III himself paid tribute to the 'probity, activity and excelling wisdom of his dearest son John'. A great traditionalist, the Duke was conventional in his tastes and outlook, and reactionary in his views. Rarely did he abuse his power. Instead, he was liberal, generous, prudent, thoughtful and above all possessed of a strong sense of honour and firm principles. He never shirked his obligations or responsibilities, nor failed in his duty. He was applauded for his sense of fair play, and once won golden opinions when he threatened to hang a cheating duellist as a traitor.80 For him, the laws of chivalry were sacrosanct, and he tried all his life to remain true to his knightly oath while modestly protesting, 'I am no great knight myself.'Yet, he added, 'My greatest delight is hearing of gallant deeds of arms.'90
The Duke did not take kindly to criticism or to being contradicted. When provoked, he was quick to explode with anger or act on impulse, being 'jealous of honour, sudden and quick in quarrel'. He was capable of using 'great harsh words' in Parliament, and could be peremptory when giving orders: 'Get this done without any slip-up,' he once commanded, or 'Make sure this is done in such a manner, understanding that, if it is disrupted, we would not wish to impute the blame to you; and do not neglect this, as you wish to avoid upsetting us.' His grand manner often made him appear haughty, autocratic, aloof and even intimidating, which did not endear him to his envious contemporaries, and alienated a number of his fellow nobles. But he cared little for that — public opinion was rarely of concern to him. Because of his wealth and power, he had no need to court favour or heed resentment.
Chaucer, however, found John to be a 'wonder and well-faring knight' who was 'so treatable, right wonder skilful, and reasonable' that he put the poet at his ease 'and got me acquaint with him'.93
How kindly spoke this knight, Without false style or sense of rank; ... I felt that he was too frank, And found him most approachable, And very wise and reasonable.
This suggests that John was more relaxed and outgoing amongst those he knew well. He could be engagingly self-deprecating, candidly confessing to his own faults, such as having 'a head and memory feeble at remembering'. And he was willing to be flexible, and to heed advice that ran contrary to his own inclinations.93
John was undoubtedly ambitious. His birth, connections, wealth and landed status made him an important player, not only on the English political stage, but in the arena of European politics, where he was to carve out for himself a major role. In the future, ill-informed people in England, misled by his overbearing hauteur and chstnistful of his vast power and wealth, would often express suspicion of John's ambition and where it might lead him; whereas abroad, it was a different story, for these very characteristics made him widely admired throughout Europe. But the distrust was misplaced, for his loyalty to the Crown, and his patriotism, were astonishingly unshakeable, and he was, all his life, a mighty champion and defender of royal authority and prestige. 'The King had no more faithful servant than himself, and he would follow wherever he would lead.'
John's loyalty and steadfastness extended to his friends also, and it was evident even when such friendships compromised his reputation, as was the case with John Wycliffe. He was true and decent to his family too, and set much store by 'the natural ties of kinship'. He clearly held his parents and siblings in deep affection and respect; he became a devoted and caring father, and he was to prove steadfast in love for many years to two women in turn. He was generous to them, and to those close to him: much of the money in his privy purse went on personal gifts carefully chosen by himself.
Although he was not violent by nature - unlike his brother the Black Prince — John was a courageous, dedicated and energetic soldier. 'His campaigns were always physically arduous to himself,' wrote Froissart. He was also a competent and prudent commander who was at his best when laying siege to a town. But for various reasons, not all his fault, military success continually eluded him, and he was to prove far more fortunate and productive in the fields of diplomacy and politics than as a military leader, for he possessed 'admirable judgement' and 'a brilliant mind'. Nonetheless, Froissart ranked him with Edward III, the Black Prince and Duke Henry among the 'valiant chevaliers' of the age.
'The pious Duke', as the admiring Knighton calls him, was a devout Catholic with orthodox views, and as conventional in his observance of religion as he was in all other things. He evinced a deep devotion to his patron saint, St John the Baptist, St Cuthbert and the Virgin Mary.98 A hugely generous benefactor, he endowed monastic houses, collegiate churches and friaries — the Carmelites were especially favoured by him, and he chose all his confessors from their Order. He was also a munificent patron of St Albans Abbey, and in its 'Liber Benefactorum', it is recorded that 'this Prince had an extreme love and affection for our monastery and Abbot, and greatly enriched the church with his magnificent and oft-repeated oblations'. He sent food and firewood to poor parish priests in his domains, rebuilt their churches and parsonages, and ensured they were kept in repair. However, his concern about abuses within the Church and his resentment of the corrupt power of wealthy ecclesiastics led him to adopt an anti-clerical stance that was to prove controversial.
In his leisure hours, John loved above all to go hunting; he owned numerous chases, forests and parks, and took great pains to keep them well maintained, and his itinerary was usually tailored to availing himself of their sport at the appropriate season."" He was equally passionate about falconry, and his mews, stocked with costly birds, were renowned throughout Europe.
Where indoor pursuits were concerned, John enjoyed games of dice, and like Blanche, he had literary interests. He was indeed an intelligent, cultivated and accomplished man with refined and sophisticated tastes. In youth, Chaucer tells us, he had studied 'science, art and letters'. He shared an interest in astronomy with Chaucer himself and with Joan of Kent, and in 1386 Nicholas of Lynn dedicated his Kalendarium to John.
The Duke patronised artists, funded poor scholars at the universities, was an active patron of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and appointed masters to grammar schools. He loved music, and employed talented choristers, musicians and minstrels in his chapel and household. To judge by their names, his company of minstrels were of Flemish or Hainaulter origin. His musicians played on the pipes, clarions and 'nakers', an early form of kettle drum, the drumsticks being of silver. According to Chaucer, John, in his youth, wrote songs that he himself admitted 'fell short'.
He spoke Norman French on a daily basis, read French with ease, had a good grasp of English — in 1363, he became the first person ever to open Parliament in that language — and must have learned some Hemish from his mother, but he was also apparently well tutored in Latin, and enjoyed reading the classics as well as contemporary romance literature; we have seen that he kept a library at the Savoy, although there is no surviving record of its contents. He is not known to have direcdy patronised Chaucer, but he would have been familiar with his works, for reasons that will shortly become clear, and Chaucer probably wrote The Boke of the Duchesse with him in mind, knowing that he and his circle would appreciate its literary significance and understand its allegorical and mythological allusions. Chaucer later addressed a short poem entitled 'Fortune' to 'three or two' princes — probably John and his brothers Edmund of Langley and Thomas of Woodstock - in the knowledge that they would know who he was talking about when he referred to Socrates; and it was claimed in the fifteenth century, by the copyist John Shirley, that John himself had commissioned another of Chaucer's poems, 'The Complaint of Mars', although this cannot be substantiated.
It has been suggested too that it was John who commissioned the epic courtly poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, which was written in York or the northern Midlands, in Lancastrian territory, possibly around 1375, but again, there is no proof to support this claim. John could certainly discriminate between good and bad poetry — when a monk, Walter of Peterborough, seeking a reward, dedicated a dreadful piece of doggerel to him in 1367, the Duke pointedly ignored it.
This was the 'magnificent lord' whose wife Katherine now served, and whose children she would care for. She must have seen and perhaps conversed with him frequently when he was at home and visiting the Duchess's apartments, or presiding over meals in the great hall, and doubtless she was as in awe of him as most people were. She was, after all, just a young teenager at the time. She may well have found him attractive and admired him from afar, yet there is nothing to show that she was anything to him at this time. Quite the contrary, for the evidence we have strongly suggests that he had eyes only for his beautiful wife. Katherine could therefore never have dreamed that the Duke's fancy would one day fix itself upon her, and anyway, she had other things to preoccupy her mind, not the least of which was marriage.