Part IV
13
The use of spies, claimed Philippe de Mézières, is always necessary, but especially so in time of war, both to observe the enemy and those of doubtful loyalty, and to keep commanders fully informed of their intentions.1 Perhaps it was Mézières’ experience in Cyprus, and his contacts with the Byzantine and Islamic worlds, which had led him to appreciate this aspect of war.2 The Venetians had long understood the importance of spying, were it primarily but for commercial reasons. But the need to have information of an enemy’s military intentions was seen as equally pressing. Writing in the second half of the thirteenth century, Fidenzio de Padua advised the West that Christians should follow the Islamic practice of keeping themselves well informed of what was happening ‘non solum in partibus propinquis, sed etiam in partibus remotis’. The use of faithful spies, he argued, could lead to much good and the avoidance of trouble and anxiety, especially in time of war,3 a doctrine which Gilbert de Lannoy, for one, tried to put into practice in the course of his travels in the eastern Mediterranean in 1422.4
1 Philippe de Mézières, Le Songe du Vieil Pèlerin, ed. G. W. Coopland (2 vols, Cambridge, 1969), ii, pp. 84–85, 404–406; Dora M. Bell, Étude sur le Songe du Vieil Pèlerin de Philippe de Mézières (1327–1405) (Geneva, 1955), p. 175.2 For Mézières’ career, see N. Jorga, Philippe de Mézières et la croisade au XIVe siècle, Fasc. 110, Bibliothèque de l’École des Hautes Études (Paris, 1896; repr. London, 1973).3 Fidenzio de Padua, Liber recuperatonis Terre Sancte, ed. G. Golubovich, Biblioteca Bio-Bibliografica della Terra Sancta e dell’ Oriento Francescano (Florence, 1913), ii, p. 33 (‘De exploratoribus), cited in part by A. S. Atiya, The Crusade in the Later Middle Ages (London, 1938; repr. New York, 1965), p. 40.4 ‘A Survey of Egypt and Syria Undertaken in the Year 1422 by Sir Gilbert de Lannoy, Knight’, ed. and trans. J. Webb, Archaeologia, xxi (1827), 281–444. ‘Item, a sceu le dit messier Guillebert par information qu’il y a grant foison darballestres de romanie, et asses de petis canons; et non mie nul gros dedens la ville [d’Alexandrie] et y a grant nombre daballestries’ (p. 317).
In the West, the wars of the late Middle Ages witnessed an evolving attitude towards spies, whose services were coming to be increasingly used on all sides. It is significant that the chroniclers Walter of Guisborough and Bartholomew Cotton should have recorded, with vividness, the treasonable activities and espionage of Thomas Turberville in 1295.5 In the fourteenth century, as has been pointed out, other chroniclers (Froissart and Geoffrey le Baker are instanced) recounted their version of events in such a way as to show that they clearly understood that many military decisions were based upon information obtained by persons who were, quite evidently, spies.6 Their Scottish contemporary, John Barbour, archdeacon of Aberdeen, likewise made a number of detailed references to episodes in the military career of Robert Bruce in which spies, one of whom he named, were involved. Clearly Barbour saw nothing unusual in both sides using spies and other forms of ‘slycht’ and ‘sutelte’ in the guerrilla warfare which was fought in Scotland and the Border country in the early fourteenth century.7
5 The Chronicle of Walter of Guisborough, ed. H. Rothwell (London, 1957), pp. 252–254; Bartholomaei de Cotton, monachi Norwicensis, Historia Anglicana, ed. H. R. Luard (London, 1859), p. 306, cited by J. G. Edwards, ‘The Treason of Thomas Turberville, 1295’, Studies in Medieval History Presented to Frederick Maurice Powicke, ed. R. W. Hunt, W. A. Pantin and R. W. Southern (Oxford, 1948), pp. 296–309.6 H. J. Hewitt, The Organization of War under Edward III, 1338–62 (Manchester, 1966), p. 4.7 John Barbour, The Bruce; or the Book of the Most Excellent and Noble Prince, Robert de Broyss, King of Scots, ed. W. W. Skeat (2 vols, Edinburcgh, 1894) Bk. vii, lines 522–563; B. W. Kliman, ‘The Idea of Chivalry in John Barbour’s Bruce’, Medieval Studies, xxxv (1973), 489–496.
Some medieval spies are known to us, in spite of a variety of disguises which it is not always easy to penetrate. If a nuntius, a vespilio, a coureur, or a chevaucheur may have been a spy, an espie or an explorator was almost certainly one. Governments were extremely reticent about referring to secret agents in their employ. The necessarily clandestine nature of fourteenth century espionage has, to this day, prevented historians from gaining a complete insight into it. A vagueness in terminology is apparent in many documentary sources which may be concerned with spies and spying. For example, English accounting documents of the period frequently contain references to payments made to messengers and others sent ‘in negociis regis secretis’, ‘pour certaines busoignes qe nous touchent’, or ‘en noz secrees busoignes’. In many cases the absence of less ambiguous evidence makes it difficult to ascertain what precisely was meant by such terms. Indeed, a wide variety of inferences may be drawn from them. Sometimes they might mean nothing more than diplomatic intercourse with the heads or representatives of other states. The ambassadors who travelled from the English court to treat with Bernabo Visconti of Milan in 1379 were sent ‘in secretis negociis’.8 Often, however, such secret business was perfectly innocent. In 1371, Esmon Rose made three journeys to Flanders and Picardy on ‘secrees busoignes dont nous lui chargasmes’, although the object of his travels was, in fact, to purchase destriers for Edward III.9 Evidently the term ‘secret’ often meant nothing more than ‘private’, although it is equally clear that in many cases it meant something more than run-of-the-mill letter-bearing.10
8 TNA, E.364/13, mm. 5v, 6.9 TNA, E.404/10/66.10 M. C. Hill, The King’s Messengers, 1199–1377 (London, 1961), p. 98.
To the mind of the fourteenth century the distinction between the spy and the messenger was a fine one. This is made clear by the fact that in both England and France there was a tendency to include payments to persons whom we would regard as spies among the expenditure on messengers. The wardrobe book of 44 Edward III records, within a list of messengers’ expenses, a payment of 110 marks to Frank de Hale, captain of Calais, for expenses ‘sur divers message[r]s et autres espies … as diverses parties pour espier et savoir la volente et les faitz des enemys de France’.11 From this it appears that the term ‘messenger’ could be employed as a synonym for ‘spy’. Similarly, in 1339, ‘nuncii’ were sent by Edward III to discover information about certain galleys in Norman ports,12 while in 1425 and 1426 Burgundian ‘messengiers’ and ‘chevauchiers’ were sent to England and Holland to discover news of the English army.13
11 TNA, E.404/10/65; Issue Rolls of Thomas de Brantingham, bishop of Exeter, 44 Edward III, 1370, ed. F. Devon (London, 1835), p. 493.12 TNA, E. 36/203, fo. 112v.13 Lille, Archives départementales du Nord, B. 1933, fos. 67v, 77. On the words used to disguise spies, see also C. Allmand, ‘Intelligence in the Hundred Years War’, Go Spy the Land. Military Intelligence in History, ed. K. Neilson and B. J. C. McKercher (Westport, CT and London, 1992), p. 15.
None the less, while spies might be coyly described as ‘messengers’, it is clear that ordinary messengers were always expected to be on the alert for information when travelling abroad, especially in the realm of a potential enemy. English messengers dispatched to the French court in Paris in 1323–24 sent Edward II a very detailed account of the movements of the French king and of the state of current affairs in France.14 In addition, messengers travelling abroad on specific business could inform the king of any discoveries made incidentally; in 1385 Thomas atte Mille was paid 40 shillings for bringing to the king ‘nouvelles … de noz messages esteantz es parties de dela pour la trete de la pees’.15 Occasionally, too, messengers were instructed ‘par commandement de la buche’, and were likewise expected to report orally to the king and council.16 Messengers bearing important news or good tidings, in addition to the letters which they carried, were often rewarded for these additional services.17
14 Calendar of Chancery Warrants, A.D. 1244–1326 (London, 1927), pp. 548–549.15 TNA, E.404/14/90.16 For example, TNA, E.101/311/13.17 In 1369, Clayskin de la Haye was rewarded with 20 marks ‘de nostre doun’ for bringing news to Edward III concerning ‘la nativite dun filz de la duchesse de Bayverer (TNA, E.404/10/64).
Some, however, felt that not all information, however obtained, might legitimately be used in war. Besides Froissart’s apparent assumption that the activities of spies were compatible with the practice of chivalric war must be placed Mézières’ timely reminder that war must be pursued ‘tousjours a la doubtance de Dieu, vaillament, sans fare ou consenter … aucune chose qui soit encontre loyaute et honourable guerre’.18
18 Songe du Vieil Pèlerin, ii, pp. 85 and 406.
Among those who must always reflect an exemplary sense of honour were the messengers extraordinary, the heralds. In the fifteenth century both Anjou King of Arms and Sicily Herald lamented that heralds were not what they had once been: Anjou King maintained that pursuivants abused their diplomatic immunity to spy out military plans for their masters, while Sicily Herald reminded his fellows of their obligation to ‘tenir secret tout ce qu’ilz verront tant de l’ung comme de l’autre, soit de nombre de gens, d’ordonnance de batailles … car, sans ce, foy ne seroit a adjouter a eulx, et seroient reputes et tenus pour espies’. But the information which the herald might pick up in the course of performing his duties could present him with a problem of loyalty. If he knew he might tell his master not to take a particular road but to choose another; he could not, however, give reasons for this advice which would be offered only in the fulfilment of every man’s duty to save life.19 The matter went further still. A herald who betrayed the secrets or plans of his master’s enemies must be punished by his master for having broken his trust, after which the enemies must be informed of what had been done, and assured that no advantage could be taken of the information which had been obtained in this manner:
Car sil fut advenir que lun desdis officiers eust, par aucune adventure, descouvert ou rapporte lestat et la discrecion dune partie a lautre ou des adversaires de son maistre ou seigneur, icellui seigneur eust tantost, et sans delay, assemble son conseil, et icellui officier eust este pugny tant et si largement que tous aultres y eussent prins exemple. Et eust tantost envoye devers sesdis adversaires ung autre officier darmes, en eulx faisant savoir la trayson, desloyaute et maudis rapport que icellui officier avoit fait deulx, en eulx significant que icellui ne eussent jamais en foy ne en credence, attendu que il avoit dit et declare la discrecion et estat deulx, ce que faire ne devoit.20
20 London, College of Arms, Ms M. 19. fo. 82v. This manuscript was printed in a slightly different version by Roland, Parties inédites de l’oeuvre de Sicile, p. 83.
19 A Wagner, Heralds of England (London, 1967), pp. 43 and 45; F. Roland, Parties inédites de l’oeuvre de Sicile, héraut d’Alphonse V, roi d’Aragon (Mons, 1867), p. 47; and P. Adam-Even, ‘Les fonctions militaires des hérauts d’armes’, Archives héraldiques suisses, lxxi (1957), 8–10.
The opinion of another herald, Jean Herard, that there were too many pursuivants active in his day and that ‘telz gens, a proprement parler, ne doibvent estre appelles heraulx ne poursievans, mais espyes’,21 is an interesting comment upon the situation at the end of the Middle Ages, emphasising, as it does, that the activities of spies, however necessary they might be, constituted an aspect of war which was, in some measure, ignoble and certainly not proper for one who belonged to the international fraternity of heralds, and who swore to maintain its code of conduct.
21 Criticism is also levelled at the new captains who appoint heralds of their own, men of little or no virtue who betray their office by seeking out the enemy’s secrets simply to please their masters. The indictment is levelled against both the heralds (‘menteurs et desleaux rapporteurs’) and their masters who do not understand that a herald’s role in war must be an entirely honourable one. (Roland, Parties inédites de l’oeuvre de Sicile, pp. 84–85) … In July 1377 William de Redineshull was granted 100 s by Richard II in part payment of expenses incurred in travelling from Newcastle upon Tyne to London ‘ad ducendum quondam heraldum de Francia, captum super Marchiam Scotie. … coram consilio’ (TNA, E.403/463, m. 2).
Because of the diplomatic courtesies extended to them, ambassadors came to be regarded as being potentially among the best spies. But their very immunity caused many to be deeply suspicious of all that they did and of all to whom they talked. When emphasising that the itineraries of foreign ambassadors should be closely controlled and their every movement carefully watched, Philippe de Commynes was only urging upon host countries the long recognised need to preserve their secrets.22 In both England and France ambassadors and royal messengers were escorted partly as a mark of honour (especially in the case of large and notable embassies), partly to ensure their safety but principally to make certain that they saw nothing, nor talked to any person who might give them evidence of what could be of value to them.23 In the early summer of 1415, the monastic chronicler Thomas Walsingham recalled, Henry V had gathered his army near Southampton in readiness for the invasion of Normandy which was soon to follow. The French, probably alerted to the English king’s intentions but not knowing where he would land, sent a final embassy to Henry, who rejected its proposals and ordered it back to London. By now, however, the ambassadors had had a glimpse of the extensive preparations which the English had made for the expedition and, hoping to bring the news to their own countrymen so that effective measures for defence might be taken, they tried to make their escape unseen (latenter). Their plan, however, was frustrated and the ambassadors found themselves arrested and held in custody.24 That such drastic action should have proved necessary is scarcely surprising. Only a few weeks before this incident Henry had written to the French king announcing his intention of reducing the period for which the ambassadors’ safe conducts would be valid, since he regarded the time granted to them for the completion of their mission as excessively long.25 It is not unreasonable to deduce that Henry was himself suspicious in advance of the enemy’s motive in wanting to send an embassy to him, and that events justified him in the detention of its members, a step which effectively prevented them from alerting the defences of the country which the English were about to invade.
22 P. Dufournet, La destruction des mythes dans les mémoires de Philippe de Commynes (Geneva, 1966), pp. 668–669.23 Hill, The King’s Messengers, pp. 96–97.24 The St. Albans Chronicle, 1406–20, ed. V. H. Galbraith (Oxford, 1937), pp. 85–86.25 N. H. Nicolas, History of the Battle of Agincourt (2nd edn, London, 1832), Appendix 1, p. 3. Mézières, too, strongly advised that persons coming under safe conduct should be very closely watched. (Songe du Vieil Pèlerin, I, p. 512).
The ready assumption that ambassadors, unlike heralds, might properly make use of, and report back, information gleaned during the period of their embassies is unlikely to surprise us. If, by the second half of the fifteenth century, Commynes regarded ambassadors as legalised spies, this was an opinion shared by many, if not most, of his contemporaries, especially Italians.26 Most embassies, indeed, were equipped with a number of subordinate officials who could be sent back to their king or prince at a moment’s notice, should the need for contact between him and the ambassadors arise. The activities of ambassadors touched upon espionage in other ways, too. Medieval rulers usually kept agents permanently in the realms of their enemies, and such persons might carry out their work undetected for a considerable number of years. It appears that ambassadors, when on embassy, often made contact with undercover agents from the same court, and no doubt received information from them which was either to be conveyed to their masters or which might be relevant to the negotiations which the ambassadors were conducting. In 1413 Breton ambassadors, sent to the court of Henry V for truce negotiations, made contact with two agents, Langueffort and Le Meignen, who had been at work in England since at least 1406 in the pay of Duke John V, and whose task it was to find out what went on at Westminster.27 Cummynes’ advice to rulers to watch carefully those who visited foreign ambassadors was indeed very fitting.28
26 On this matter, see D. E. Queller, The Office of Ambassador in the Middle Ages (Princeton, 1967), p. 98.27 G. A. Knowlson, Jean V, duc de Bretagne, et l’Angletterre (1399–1442) (Rennes and Cambridge, 1964), p. 82. It is interesting to note that Langueffort’s wife received payments from the duke, for unspecified reasons, while her husband was at work in England, and it is tempting to assume that these payments were made in respect of her husband’s service (Ibid, p. 46). It is known, too, that John V maintained agents in Paris to keep him informed of events there. For the unhappy fate of a Breton agent working in London, see Allmand, ‘Intelligence in the Hundred Years War’, Go Spy the Land: Military Intelligence in History, pp. 42 and 46: R. A. Griffiths, ‘Un Espion Breton à Londres, 1425–1429’, Annales de Bretagne et des Pays de l’Ouest, 86 (1979), 399–403.28 Philippe de Commynes, Memoires, ed. J. Calmette and G. Durville (3 vols, Paris, 1925), i. 219.
Yet, although messengers and ambassadors were expected to uncover information, their involvement in matters of intelligence was only incidental to their other, main duties. Recorded evidence affords glimpses of agents whose sole function was concerned with espionage, although such references are relatively few. None the less, it is certain that English royal spies formed a class distinct from royal messengers and others who were only occasionally involved in spying. It is, however, all too easy to overlook these professional spies since, in addition to the difficulties already adduced, many entries in the accounting documents of the period merely name the recipient and the sum paid, but make no mention of the services for which the payment was made. For instance, the Issue Roll of Michaelmas Term 1378 records a payment made on 25 October to a French squire, Nicolas Briser, who was retained by Richard II for an annual fee of 50 marks.29 Since many foreign knights and esquires were thus retained by the crown for military purposes during this period, the payment made to Briser could justifiably be construed as having been made for such a purpose. However, some indication of the true nature of Briser’s employment was given in April 1379, when he received 71s. 1d. for ‘jurato domino regi coram consilio suo ad faciendum comodum ipsius domini regis meliori modo poterit ad nocumentum inimicorum suorum in expedicionem guerrarum regis’,30 only a few months after he had been described as an ‘explorator regis’,31 the nature of his position thus being clearly revealed. In other cases lack of further evidence means that many other spies remain undetected to this day.
29 TNA., E.403/471, m. 5. Referred to twice in the records of these months, he was described as ‘valletus de Harfleu’ some months later. (E.403/472, mm. 6, and 13.30 TNA, E.403/472, m. 1.31 TNA, E.403/471, m. 8. He was also described thus on 14 July 1379 (Ibid, m. 13).
Despite the reticence of the English authorities to describe their agents more exactly, a small number of individuals may positively be identified as spies. The names of the agents sent to Normandy in 1339, and those dispatched by Frank de Hale from Calais in 1370, are not recorded. From the 1370s onwards, however, named spies begin to appear more frequently in English records. In the years 1377–78, Nicolas Hakenet (or Hakynet), a French esquire, described as ‘explorator regis’, received several payments for intelligence work carried out in the English king’s service. On 21 September 1377, he was paid 10 marks for a journey ‘ad partes transmarinas ad explorandum de flota navium Francie et de ordinacione inimicorum regis in eisdem partibus’,32 while on 23 November he received expenses ‘de dono regis’ for ‘morando in Londonia, ibiem expectando voluntatis ipsius domini regis et consilii sui’;33 later, on 12 December, he was paid five marks and another five on 29 January 1378, for going at the council’s behest ‘versus partes Francie, ad explorandum de ordinacione inimicorum pro guerra in partibus predictis’.34 A further 40 s. were paid to him on 25 September 1378, ‘pro tempore quo stetavit Londonie, attendens voluntatem consilii regis’.35
32 TNA, E. 403/463, m. 6.33 TNA, E. 403/467, m. 8.34 Ibid, mm. 10, 14.35 TNA, E. 403/468, m. 12.
An interesting point to note is that the payment of September 1377 was made by the hand of another known agent, the above mentioned Nicolas Briser. Both are known to have been active in France in 1377–78, and may possibly have formed part of a spy ring organised in enemy territory on behalf of the English crown. It is known that such a well organised network of agents was established in Flanders by the English council in the 1380s, and was functioning in 1386–87,36 although other groups of agents, and individual agents, were at work at the same time elsewhere. In October 1385, for instance, Arnald Turrour was sent ‘apud Mer-gate in partibus de Pycardye, ad morendum et explorandum in dictis partibus de ordinacione inimicorum de Francia’,37 while in the following October Frederick Fullyng and Richard Henley were dispatched from Calais with news ‘de exercitu adversarii regis de Francia’.38
36 For a full account of this network, see J. J. N. Palmer, England, France and Christendom, 1377–99 (London, 1972), pp. 123–124, and Appendix 1.37 TNA, E. 403/510, m. 12.38 TNA, E. 403/515, m. 1.
It seems, too, that Edward III, by maintaining agents within the English companies in France, followed a dictum which was later to be expressed by Philippe de Mézières.39 In February 1370, Roger Hilton and John de Neuby, ‘esquiers de la grande compaignie’, brought the king and council news from Normandy ‘de certeines secrees busoignes dont Ils furent charges de part nous’, for which they received £100 in the king’s gift40
39 ‘Le chevetaine [of the army, town or castle] … doit tousjours ymaginer que le roy son seigneur [a] continuelment ses secretes espies en l’ost pour enquester et espier secretement le gouvernement du chevetaine, et comment l’ost se porte’. (Songe du Vieil Pèlerin, I, 519). Spies were also employed internally within the administration to check upon the functions of royal officers. In 1335, for instance, agents were named to investigate secretly the dealings of certain collectors of tenths and fifteenths who had ‘borne themselves ill’, and to report their findings to the council (CPR, 1334–38, p. 202).40 TNA, E. 404/10/65.
A striking feature of the agents employed by the English crown in the 1370s and 1380s was that many of them were aliens. All those working for the English in Ghent 1386–87, with the exception of Brother Adam Bamford, appear to have been of Flemish stock. The appointment of French and Flemings as agents by the English had definite advantages: they spoke the enemy’s language as natives and would thus arouse less suspicion than strangers with the enemy authorities.41 Persons speaking Netherlandish dialects, for instance, could work without undue danger in Flanders, and it is known that Middleburg, in Zeeland, was an important centre for espionage from which the English, during the 1380s, dispatched agents speaking these dialects.42
41 See Froissart’s reference to spies ‘oult bien parlant francoys, alemant et angloys’ (Froissart, Oeuvres, Chroniques, ed. K. de Lettenhove (29 vols, Brussels, 1870–77), v, p. 545).42 In September 1386, for instance, the mayor of the Staple at Middelburg was ordered to certify the council de ordinacione Francigenarum’ (TNA, E. 403/512, m. 21).
Aliens working as agents might even hold positions of importance or responsibility in their native areas, and would thus be more valuable to their masters. It was in return for his freedom that Thomas Turberville, captured in Gascony in April 1295, agreed to act as a French spy at the court of Edward I, to which he returned, having ‘escaped’, in August 1295, leaving his children in France as hostages. A short while later he was writing to the prevot of Paris that the Isle of Wight was undefended, and that if the Scots were to rise in rebellion against the English, the Welsh might do likewise. But Turberville was already uneasy about his position near the King: ‘acone gens’, he wrote to his French correspondent, ‘unt suspecion vers moy, ‘pur cso ke jeo ay dyt ke suy eschape hors de la prison’, a story which was evidently leading men to doubt his loyalty to the king. Betrayed and then arrested, Turberville was tried and executed.43 Almost a century later, Sir Ralph Travers was unjustly accused of similar treasonable correspondence with the French: importance must be attached to the statement, made at his trial, that to have a spy who could pass on vital information personally obtained from Richard II’s council would be of greater use to Charles VI than the possession of Calais and other local castles.44 That all spies did not have direct access to the king’s council chamber, however, goes without saying.45
43 See above, n. 5.44 ‘… pluis profiteroit & plerroit al dit Adversaire & a son conseil d’avoir une telle persone come vous estes, de leur covyne & assent, en le conseil de notre seigneur le roi d’Engletterre, pur lour conforter et acerter de privitees, purpos et affaires de notre Conseil, que d’avoir la ville de Caleys ou autre forteresce du roi notre seigneur a lour volentee’ (Rotuli Parliamentorum, iii, p. 92).45 One English agent, however, who escaped the vigilance of the Burgundian authorities in 1387 was no less a person than the clerk of the city of Ghent (Palmer, England, France and Christendom, p. 231).
If it is difficult to estimate, from financial sources, both the numbers of spies employed by the English and the successes which they may have had, although the reaction of the French populace and authorities to the threat of espionage may be a fair indication of the extent to which foreign agents were at work in France in time of war. The inhabitants of the border regions, the Calais March, the southwest, and the areas around other English-held territories were particularly aware of the threat. Local reaction was often one of violence. In September 1359, three inhabitants of Chitry were pardoned by the dauphin, Charles, for having killed in error two valets whom they had mistaken for spies sent from the English garrison at Chablis.46 At the same time, other pardons were granted to certain men of Monampteuil for the similar murder of Lamentier le Clay whom they had taken in error for an English spy from Vailly.47
46 Paris, AN., JJ.90, fo. 138v, no. 269.47 Ibid, fo. 142, no. 275. At the time of the murder, the three men were engaged in the fortification of the church at Monampteuil, at the command of the bishop of Laon. It may fairly be said that they thus had at least some justification for their suspicions that their victim had come to spy on the progress of the building of the new defences.
These two examples were by no means isolated ones. On a less violent level, where the numerous denunciations of persons suspected by their fellows of being enemy agents, any dealings with the enemy, however innocent, might cause immediate suspicion. In 1369, Adam Hane, a monk of Le Tréport, was imprisoned for having dealings with the Navarrese, even though he had been merely involved in negotiations for the release of French prisoners held by them.48
48 Ibid, fo. 195, no. 386.
Nor were the authorities slow to act. In June 1359, the abbess of Saint-Nicolas at Bar-sur-Aube was indicted by Jean de Chalon, the French king’s lieutenant in Sens, Troyes, and Chaumont, on suspicion of treason and correspondence with the enemy.49 Arrests of such suspects were frequent. Frenchmen who lived abroad, particularly in the realm of an enemy, were regarded as security risks on their return, and stood in danger of arrest. Such was the fate of the unfortunate Evrart Hostelier who, returning to France in 1369 after having lived eighteen years in England, was arrested by the French authorities as an enemy agent.50 Other stringent security measures were taken. An ordonnance of 1370, for instance, decreed that prisoners of war held in the castle of Saint-Omer should be kept in rooms without windows lest they were to ‘bien veoir et savoir le convenant, estat et fort-eresce de la dite ville … au tresgraunt domage, meschief et inconvenient de nous et de la dite ville’,51 while suspected spies captured in 1345 were provided with a heavily armed escort which accompanied them from Neuilly to Caen, where they were taken for interrogation.52
49 Ibid, fo. 108v, no. 197.50 Ibid, fo. 27, no. 17.51 Saint-Omer, Archives Municipales, CCXXVI, 3.52 L. Delisle, Actes normands de la Chambre des Comptes sous Philippe de Valois (Paris, 1881), p. 185.
The extent of French reaction against espionage certainly implies considerable activity, and perhaps a certain success, by the English in this field, and although the role played by spies is, to a large extent, indeterminate, certain aspects of their functions are clear. Not only was there the obvious task of finding out the enemy’s secrets, his plans, his military preparations and organisation, and other information of interest, but such uncovered secrets had to be conveyed back to the appropriate authorities. The usefulness of agents, however was not restricted to these roles. They were also employed in an offensive role, as agents provocateurs, whose task included the spreading of false rumours to undermine the morale of the enemy and to mislead his military leaders. Of prime importance, too, were liaisons with dissident elements in regions under French rule: it is plain, for example, that in the summer of 1385 English agents were in constant contact with the anti-French and anti-Burgundian factions in the towns of Ghent and Damme.53
53 TNA, E.403/508, mm. 17, 18, 20 and 22.
In all these activities, an important asset to English espionage was the possession of bases in France. These afforded footholds within enemy territory from which not only military expeditions could be launched but from which agents, too, could easily be dispatched. Calais was one such centre for spies. When Hennequin du Bos, captured while on Jean de Vienne’s expedition to Scotland in 1385, had decided ‘d’estre Engles & de tenir la partie des Engles’ and agreed to serve them as a spy, it was to Calais that the English sent him. There, according to the confession which he made some years later to the French authorities, he met other spies about to travel to different parts of France, to Rethel and Champagne, to the Lendit and other fairs, even as far as Poitou. All were to return in a variety of disguises, one dressed as a monk, another as a hospitaler, a third as a goldsmith. In all cases Calais was to be their base.54 This, and further evidence, suggests that the most was made of Calais, a great economic and military centre where French and English influences rubbed shoulders, a centre in and from which spies and informers of all parties could hope to function with some success. From a petition filed by the captain in 1417, we learn of his need to spend £100 a year ‘pour son espiaille en Fraunce et ayllours pour le bien et save garde de la ville de Calays, come autres capitains illoeques out heuz devaunt ceste temps’.55 If Calais was ‘an admirable window for observing what the French were up to’,56 the reverse was almost equally true.
54 Registre Criminel du Châtelet de Paris du 6 septembre 1389 au 18 mai 1392, ed. H. Duplès-Agier (2 vols, Paris, 1861–64), I, pp. 379–393.55 Proceedings and Ordinances of the Privy Council of England, (PPC), ed. N. H. Nicolas (7 vols, London, 1834–37), II, p. 210.56 C. G. Cruickshank, Army Royal, Henry VIII’s Invasion of France, 1513 (Oxford, 1969), p. 18. This study includes several references to spies in Calais. See, too, PPC, II, pp. 343–344.
Bases such as Calais served, too, as centres for the accumulation of information which could then either be conveyed to England or acted upon by the commander of the local garrison, as he saw fit.57 Intelligence brought back there was treated as having the greatest priority and was acted upon immediately. Thus William de Weston, arraigned before Parliament in 1377 for surrendering the fortress of Audruicq, sought to justify himself by claiming that he had been informed by a spy of the approach of a great enemy force armed with ‘tres graundes et tres grevouses ordinanes’. When the force did appear, indeed armed with a large number of guns, Weston, acting upon the information which he had received, surrendered the fortress.58 In 1385 Calais likewise served as a clearing point for information sent by different agents from Ghent concerning events then taking place in that town and in Damme.59
57 L. Puiseux, ‘Étude sur une grande ville de bois construite en Normandie pour une expédition en Angleterre en 1386’, Mémoires de la Société des Antiquaires de Normandie, XXV (1863), 5.58 Rotuli Parliamentorum, III, p. 39.59 TNA, E.403/508, m. 18. On the role of Calais as a centre of espionage, see Allmand, ‘Intelligence in the Hundred Years War’, Go Spy the Land, ed. Neilson and McKercher, pp. 36–38.
If information from agents in the field was to be of real value, it had to be conveyed to the king and council as rapidly as possible. To achieve this, good channels of communication were vital. English agents working abroad had the difficulty of having to bring their information across the sea if required to report directly to the king and council. One of the most regular crossings, frequently used by royal messengers, was between Wissant, some miles to the west of Calais, and Dover.60 It was popular because it was the shortest distance across the Channel, both ports were in English hands from the 1340s, and, furthermore, fees for crossings had been regularised by statute early in the reign of Edward III.61
60 M. C. Hill, ‘Jack Faukes, King’s Messenger, and His Journey to Avignon in 1343’, EHR, lvii (1942), 24.61 Statutes of the Realm, I, p. 263 (Stat. 4 Edward II, cap. 8). Where speed was essential, boats could be hired for the crossing, although this was more expensive. Fees for a man and horse between Dover and Wissant were generally about 1 mark (Hill, ‘Jack Faukes’, pp. 24–25). Charges for private hire could be even greater. In December 1369, £20 was paid ‘pur le louer dune nef et deux barges pour conduire Rauf Barry et Johan Paulesholt et autres … alantz en nostre message vers Chirburgh en Normandie’ (TNA, E. 404/9/63).
Within England itself, posting systems aided the swift passage of messages from the coast or the Borders to the central authorities. One, ensuring a rapid contact between the king and the captain of Calais, was in existence in 1372 between Dover and London. In June of that year arrangements were made for the provision of hackneys at a reasonable cost in Canterbury for the use of royal messengers travelling between London and Calais.62 By May 1373 refinements in the system were evident: royal writs ordered the bailiffs of Dover and Southwark, too, to provide hackneys, and the orders to Canterbury and Rochester were repeated.63 Evidence suggests that other roads in England may also have been posted to facilitate the passage of messages. In 1360, for instance, the council, then over a hundred miles away at Reading, was informed of the French attack on Winchelsea on the very day on which it took place.64 That the conveyance of information was possible was a factor of the greatest importance in time of war.
62 CCR, 1369–74, p. 399.63 Idem, p. 505.64 The French attacked Winchelsea on the morning of Sunday, 15 March, 1360. On the same day the council issued writs mentioning the attack, and ordered the arrest of every ship and large barge for use against the French. (Rymer, Foedera, III, I, p. 476). Post roads connecting London with the Welsh and Scottish borders were possibly in existence by the reign of Edward I (Hill, King’s Messengers, pp. 108–109).
Responsibility for matters of espionage lay ultimately with the king and council, who appointed agents and sent them on missions. Very often, as in the case of Nicolas Briser, who travelled to Gloucester in 1378 to impart his information to the king, these agents reported their findings in person. But it was not only agents who did this. Messengers and envoys were likewise expected to report in person either to the king or to his council on the completion of their missions. The link between the council and matters of espionage is further illustrated by the fact that while in the field the marshal and the constable, together with their subordinates (captains of garrisons in France or on the Scottish border, and commanders of armies) had responsibility for sending out their own agents,65 such military commanders frequently passed on their information to the central authorities.
65 The powers of the Marshal and Constable are well attested. In France, the Constable was responsible for sending out spies [‘messagers & espies … coureurs & autres chevaucheurs] when he saw the need. In England ‘spyes specially ordeyned’ must obey the Constable and Marshal (The Essential Portions of Nicholas Upton’s De Studio Militari, before 1446 …., ed. F. P. Barnard (Oxford, 1931), p. 36.
A great deal is known about the payment of messengers in the royal service in England but the position regarding the remuneration of spies employed by the crown is much less clear. Royal messengers received daily wages at a fixed rate, according to their rank, together with annual gifts of clothing and shoes. When on active service they received, in addition, expenses for travelling.66 It is uncertain whether the same conditions applied to agents involved in the shadier business of spying, since evidence to determine this is slight. The Frenchman, Nicolas Briser, was certainly paid an annual retaining fee of 50 marks and, in addition, was reimbursed the miscellaneous expenses he had incurred whilst travelling on the king’s service.67 The majority of payments made to secret agents, however, were usually extraordinary payments made in the king’s gift (‘de dono regis’), partly as wages, partly in recompense of the expenses incurred by the agent.68 It is thus almost impossible to estimate the wages which a typical agent might receive. Payments made to them may possibly have depended upon results, as was sometimes the case for messengers who were frequently rewarded by the recipient of the letters which they bore.69
66 For payments made to royal messengers, see Hill, King’s Messengers, pp. 22ff and 46–51.67 TNA, E.403/471, mm. 5 and 8; E 403/472, mm. 1, 6, 7, 10, 13.68 See TNA, E.403/463, m. 6; E. 403/467, mm. 8, 10, 14.69 English kings habitually presented foreign messengers with money or valuables ‘de dono regis’. See TNA, E. 404/6/36/58, 60.
Mézières’ ‘Pilgrim’ was to advocate that at least one third of military expenditure should be on espionage. It is difficult to estimate whether this was, in fact, the case in practice, but documentary evidence certainly does suggest that a substantial amount was spent on spies and spying. In 1370, for example, the sum paid to English spies working from Calais alone was in excess of £70, a trifling sum compared to the over-all expenditure of that year, but significant when contrasted to the total expenditure on all royal messengers, which amounted to £183.70 It is necessary to bear in mind that the sum of £70 did not include payments to agents working elsewhere, and that a large proportion of the moneys paid to ordinary messengers were for journeys of a special or secret nature.
70 Hill, King’s Messengers, p. 98.
So far we have dealt chiefly with spies working for the English crown. Such agents served as a valuable and necessary source of information, and were of great benefit to their masters. There was, however, a further side to the whole matter. Spies employed by the enemy caused many headaches for the central government and for military commanders. Record sources testify to the extensive use of secret agents by the French and other enemies against the English, both abroad and within the realm of England itself. Time and again, the presence of enemy spies made itself felt in England, a fact reflected in royal writs which stressed the dangers to the realm presented by these persons; in statutes aimed at curtailing their activities; in reports of frequent arrests and detentions of suspects; and, most significantly, in the complaints of the Commons in Parliament. It is, perhaps, all too easy to dismiss such references as manifestations of a fear which gripped crown and people subjected to the stress of prolonged war, an interpretation which might certainly be applicable to the period after 1369, when the English reversals in the war were accompanied by an increased awareness and preoccupation with the needs of home defence. It is known that enemy agents were frequently sent to the English possessions in France, especially Calais, to uncover information,71 and that French castles and towns situated near those possessions were also important bases for espionage. Saint-Omer, for instance, often acted as a dispatch centre for agents infiltrating into the English-held Calais March. Even in times of formal peace, the use of spies continued: in 1368 Pieret de Bourges was paid one ecu ‘pour aller secretement a Calais et ou pais de Ghisnes. … pour enquerrer et savoir sil avoit gens darmes a Calais et lestat et convenue des Engles’.72 Agents were also sent to spy upon English armies in the field. Thus troops sent to aid the people of Ghent at Damme in 1385 came under the surveillance of agents sent by duke Philip of Burgundy to discover the ‘temps que les Anglois arriverent ou port de Hugheuliets’.73 By far the most serious threat to English security, however, were agents actively at work within the realm itself – those sent to Scotland by the French in 1354 to persuade the Scots to create trouble in the north of England;74 those dispatched to London by Louis de Mâle in 1382 to uncover information of importance to him;75 or the Burgundians sent there in 1425 to secure details of the military preparations then under way.76
71 For Calais, see Arch. du Nord, Lille, B. 15796, m. 6v; for Bordeaux, Chronique de Mathieu d’Escouchy, ed. G. du Fresne de Beaucourt (3 vols, Paris, 1863–64), III, p. 387; for Gascony, BnF, ms fr 32511, fo. 142v.72 Arch. Nord, Lille, B. 15793, fo. 6.73 Ibid, B. 1842/50006.74 Chronique normande du XIVe siècle, ed. A. and E. Molinier (Paris, 1882), pp. 108–109.75 Arch. Nord, Lille, B.1337/14596, printed by Palmer, England, France and Christendom, App. II.76 Arch. Nord, Lille, B. 1933, fos. 62v, 77.
It is certain, then, that the numerous measures taken against spies did have some positive foundation, and, from the extent of the measures employed, there can be little doubt that the menace presented by enemy agents was taken very seriously. With alarming regularity, English royal writs bore the startling information that enemy aliens were ‘spying on the secrets of the realm and sending home intelligence’,77 or that ‘divers aliens, enemies of the realm, have entered and daily enter the realm to spy out its secrets and reveal them to the French’.78 The records of Parliament testify, perhaps better than any other single source, the extent to which Englishmen held enemy aliens in fear and suspicion, so that very few meetings of Parliament after the 1330s failed to refer to them or to the dangers with which they threatened the realm. Much of this was, admittedly, the result of a prejudice purely racial in its concept, although indubitably fostered by prolonged war. In 1347, for example, the Commons complained against the Pope’s appointment of aliens to English benefices and monastic houses,79 and the Parliament of 1379 heard a similar petition that none of the best benefices should be granted to alien clergy.80 Although many were based upon prejudice, most complaints against aliens voiced by the Commons arose from considerations of national security. In 1338, it was requested that all prelates should certify to Parliament names and whereabouts of alien clergy in their dioceses;81 some six years later, the Commons petitioned that the Crown take in hand the goods and lands of aliens living within the realm, and that the profits from these be ‘tournez a defens de la terre et de Seinte Eglise’,82 while in 1377 grievances levelled at aliens stated simply that they entered the kingdom as spies.83
77 Calendar of Documents relating to Scotland, ed. J. Bain (4 vols, Edinburgh, 1881–88), III, p. 294, no. 1614.78 CPR, 1377 –81, p. 475. Numerous other examples could be cited.79 Rotuli Parliamentorum, II, p. 171.80 Ibid, III, p. 46.81 Ibid, II, p. 106.82 Ibid, II, p. 154.83 Ibid, III, p. 22.
English public opinion thus regarded the situation as one of extreme gravity, and the central government was not slow to take action against the threat of espionage. It is clear that the different ways by which enemy agents could operate were well recognised by the government, and that steps were taken to counter enemy operations in each of them. Briefly, the measures were directed toward four main ends: first, the prevention of the leakage of secret information to external enemies by hindering spies entering the realm or, failing this, by preventing them from leaving with their information; secondly, control of alien clergy who constituted a threat, not always imagined, within the kingdom; thirdly, prevention of the undermining of the country’s economy by measures taken against the importation of inferior (usually Scots) coinage and the export of bullion (in specie or plate) or arms or victuals; and fourthly, the prevention of entry into the realm of undesirable outside influences, such as anti-government propaganda, ‘prejudicial bulls’ and, above all, rumours (whether true or false) which might have a detrimental effect upon the morale of the population.
In putting such measures into effect, the ports played an important role. It was there that the first steps were taken to curtail the activities of enemy agents, and strict security was therefore essential. When a foreign expedition was in the offing, the Crown frequently resorted to a complete ban on all persons or civil shipping wishing to leave the country. When Edward III’s fleet set sail for Normandy in 1346, orders were sent to the mayor and sheriffs of London, and to officials in the Cinque Ports, particularly Dover, Winchelsea, and Sandwich, that no one, of whatever condition, should be allowed to leave the realm within eight days of the fleet’s departure, since ‘intelleximus quod quamplures exploratores in civitate predicta London et alibi infra regnum nostrum Anglie conversantes secreta nostra ad partes externas ad inimicos nostros. … mittunt’.84 On other occasions, as in 1348, the ports were closed to all pilgrims.85 At other times persons were permitted to leave the realm only from specified ports, usually Dover or, exceptionally, Orwell, or by some other controlled exit point.86 However, exceptions to the general ordinance were often made, as when the bailiffs and wardens of the ports were instructed to permit ‘known merchants’ to leave.87 Licences, too, were frequently granted by the Crown for more specific reasons. These were varied. In 1368 the prior of Arundel was permitted to go to Rome ‘pour aucunes busoignes tuchantz sa priorte’,88 while in 1381 the keepers of the port of Dover were instructed to allow John Myners and his retinue to leave the realm ‘aller a Calais pour soi defendre illoeqes en gage de bataille.89 In order to receive licence to leave the realm, persons were sometimes requested to provide mainpernors to vouch for their integrity before a licence could be granted90 Yet, despite the legal methods which were available to those wishing to leave on legitimate business, many nevertheless tried to do so without proper authority.91
84 TNA, C.76/23, m. 23v. Shortly afterwards the sheriffs of London were informed that French spies had infiltrated the kingdom to discover the king’s secrets.85 TNA, C.76/26, m. 16v. In 1416 one Craquet was instructed to cross to England disguised as a pilgrim travelling to Canterbury, to see to the interests of the abbey of Fecamp, and to gather information and money (D. Matthew, The Norman Monasteries and Their English Possessions (Oxford, 1962), pp. 130–101, 166–167).86 CCR, 1381–85, p. 1.87 TNA, E.364/3, m. 1. The prohibition against emigration of February 1383 stressed that even known merchants were to be prevented from leaving the ports (Ibid, p. 281).88 TNA, C.81/1712/5.89 TNA, C.81/1656/6.90 TNA, C.81/1715/19.91 TNA, E.364/12, mm. 1, 4, 5v.
Alien clergy were singularly discriminated against by the government’s security measures, in many cases with good reason. It was repeatedly reported that friars and other alien clergy entered and left England daily so that ‘the secrets of the realm are laid bare by such aliens to the king’s enemies, to the peril of the realm’.92 Widespread anticlerical feeling no doubt had some bearing on the attitude towards alien clergy, but clerics, and more especially members of the mendicant orders, who had relative freedom of movement, were in a very good position to act as agents. More than one case could be cited to justify current suspicions. In 1369 the alien prior of Hailing, in Hampshire, was confined at his own cost in Southwark Priory for having received letters from France93 while in 1384 Hugh Calveley, then Keeper of the Channel Islands, was ordered to arrest without delay a French spy, Roxas Poussin of Normandy, who had ‘craftily intruded into the church of St Peter Port by means of a papal provision, and had since been spying on the secrets of the English in Guernsey’.94
92 CCR, 1381–85, p. 64.93 Ibid, 1369–74, p. 63. This case was cited in the Parliament of 1379 as proof that alien clergy were in contact with the enemy (Rotuli Parliamentorum, III, 64).94 CPR, 1381–85, p. 35.
Such cases explain to a large extent the preoccupation with alien clergy in the parliaments of Edward III and Richard II, and also the numerous measures levelled against them by the authorities. Heads of monasteries received orders to refuse alien clergy the right of admittance to their houses. The prior of Holy Trinity, London, was thus instructed in 1340;95 the Dominican convent in Oxford received similar orders in 1373, the king having been informed that alien spies were active in Oxford under the pretext of studying there;96 while in 1382, the warden and convent of the Friars Minor in London were told that no alien brethren, ‘coming from what realm or lordship soever’, should remain in the house for longer than two days, while those already there should be removed without delay.97
95 CCR, 1339–41, p. 458.96 CCR, 1369–74, p. 517.97 CCR, 1381–85, p. 64.
Apart from individual clerics, whole houses of alien clergy suffered from the government’s security measures. ‘Alien priories’ presented a special security risk in coastal regions; periods of open war witnessed not merely numerous confiscations of their lands but, more particularly, the removal of alien clergy from coastal areas, the principle having been established in 1295 that these were to be free of alien (or, more specifically, French) clergy in time of war.98 The practice was repeated in 1326, when beneficed secular clergy who were ‘subjects and adherents of the king of France, living near the sea or navigable rivers’ were taken from the coastal region and accommodated inland for the time being.99 Such principles were to remain in force throughout the fourteenth century. For example, in July 1337 all alien priories in the Isle of Wight were taken into the king’s hands, and their monks moved away from the sea,100 while in the following year the monks of St Michael’s Mount and the denizen priory of Lewes shared the same fate.101 In the parliaments of 1346, 1369, 1372 and 1373 petitions against alien clergy were put forward by the Commons,102 and in the first parliament of Richard II’s reign measures were taken to expel all enemy aliens from England.103 Although these measures did not involve the expulsion of entire communities – conventual priors, known loyalists and married secular clergy who could find sureties for themselves were exempted – they did represent a positive response by the government to the dangers presented by alien clergy. Those permitted to remain were subject to stringent controls. The provision of 1377 amplified an order of 1369 whereby alien priors, to whom had been committed the custody of their own houses, were bound to find mainpernors to swear that each prior would remain continually in his house, and that neither he, nor his monks nor servants, would ‘pass out of the realm or reveal the state, affairs or secrets of the realm to any foreign person, or transmit to foreign parts by letter or word-of-mouth … anything prejudicial…’.104 Fur thermore, aliens who remained were not to be involved in the keeping of the sea coast. In 1379 the alien prior of Pembroke was given control of his priory with the proviso that he be exempt from the garde de la mer.105 Nevertheless, despite the measures taken against them, alien clergy were to remain a security hazard until their more complete expulsion in the reign of Henry V.106
98 Matthew, Norman Monasteries, pp. 82–84.99 CCR, 1325–27, p. 636. Only secular clergy were involved since, presumably, action taken by alien regular clergy in an English religious house could be controlled by its head.100 TNA, C.61/49, m. 19. On the same day all alien clergy ‘de potestate et dominio regis Francie’ suffered a similar fate (Ibid, m. 23).101 Rymer, Foedera, II, ii, p. 1061.102 In 1373 the Commons entered a petition that all alien clergy living within twenty leagues of the coast should be removed, since they were ‘espiant les secretz et ordynancez de temps en temps a vostre Parliament et Conseil’ (Rotuli Parliamentorum, II, p. 320).103 Ibid, II, pp. 162–163.104 CFR, 1369–77, pp. 13–17.105 Ibid, 1377–83, pp. 155–156.106 For a fuller account, see Matthew, Norman Monasteries, pp. 120, 126–127.
Controls at the ports were implemented for a number of reasons, not all of them directly connected with espionage. They played, for instance, an essential role in the sphere of royal finance, as in the case of searching for customs evaders. None the less, even such economic measures could have a bearing upon national security. It was often reported that enemy aliens were attempting to smuggle arms, bullion, and victuals from the realm. While otherwise ‘loyal’ Englishmen were not averse to making their profit at the expense of the crown and to the detriment of the kingdom, it is likely that such activities were undertaken by enemy agents as a positive part of their duties of espionage. This theory is supported by the fact that persons arrested on suspicion of spying were also frequently accused of economic offences. Mézières was one who noted the connection between merchants and spies; ‘les espies’, he wrote, ‘par lesquelles on puet mieulx savoir lestat de ses ennemis, ce sont marchans Lombars et estranges’.107 Money spent in procuring their services, and those of their factors, would be money well spent since, as men engaged in non-military activities, they could travel more freely than most, and suffered less from limitations imposed upon their movements. It is clear that it was all too widely accepted that merchants might be spies in disguise. In April 1376, the Commons sought the expulsion of ‘Lombard broukers’ and others described as ‘privees Espies’ through whom aliens were alleged to be uncovering the secrets of the kingdom.108 Hughlin Gerard, a merchant of Bologna Grassa, who was pardoned in July 1388, had, since his entry into England in 1377, committed a number of crimes against the realm and its statutes. They were mainly of an economic nature, and included the illegal exportation of bullion, carrying out exchanges without licence, exporting non-customed wools, and importing luxury commodities such as silk and pearls into England. In addition to these offences, he had betrayed the secrets and counsel of the realm to his master, a Frenchman, in Paris.109 It was merchants, too, who were responsible for warning the English of the proposed French attack on west Wales in 1377.110 It is thus possible that the statutes concerning restrictions on such mercantile activities as the importation and exportation of goods may have been enforced, to a certain extent, with a view to countering espionage.111
107 Songe du Vieil Pèlerin, II, pp. 85 and 405.108 Rotuli Parliamentorum, II, pp. 332, 338, 347.109 CPR, 1385–89, p. 501.110 Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions from All Souls MS. 182, ed. M. D. Legge (Oxford, 1941), pp. 162–166.111 Statutes of the Realm, I, 132, 273–274; II, 17.
Scrutiny at the ports was undertaken by several classes of officials. The mayors and bailiffs of coastal towns, or the sheriff of the county, were often commissioned by the crown to seize prohibited imports and exports, to prevent persons and shipping from leaving the realm, and to apprehend enemy agents.112 Sometimes the king’s sergeant-at-arms was commissioned in this way.113 Regularly employed, too, were the searchers for bullion in the ports and, less frequently, the collectors of customs and subsidies. As the fourteenth century progressed, temporary mergers in the duties of these officials took place. In 1372, for example, Nicholas Potyn was appointed to search the ships of suspected persons for non-customed wool, bullion, and ‘prejudicial bulls’, and his findings were to be certified to the Chancery.114 In Northampton, in 1385, a single commission was issued to the mayor and bailiffs empowering them to search for spies, bullion and counterfeiters, while in Holland, Lincolnshire, in the same year, commissioners were appointed to search for spies and ‘prejudicial bulls’.115
112 CPR, 1385–89, pp. 83 and 172; TNA, E.364/3, m. 1.113 CPR, 1377–81, p. 475.114 TNA, E.364/11, m. 1. Compare the appointment of searchers in Dartmouth in 1378 (E.364/12, m. 4).115 CPR, 1385–89, p. 83.
Restrictions imposed at the ports were not simply intended to prevent persons or goods from entering or leaving the country. There was always the danger presented by subversive material such as ‘prejudicial bulls’ which might attack the king’s prerogative; bearers of such material were immediately arrested on detection. More serious still was the fear that rumours, fostered by enemy agents or by native Englishmen, and regarded by the crown, at least since the enactment of the Statute of Westminster in 1275 against ‘devisors of tales’ and those who caused discord between the king and his subjects, as a serious evil, might creep into the realm.116 Rumours could be a severe blow to the morale of the populace, particularly in regions such as the south-east of England and the Scottish border, both of which suffered heavily from enemy raids. Rumours, too, concerning the course of the war abroad (particularly if unfavourable to the crown) were unwelcome. Throughout the fourteenth century royal writs to local officials frequently contained orders that this clause of the Statute they applied,117 and those found propagating false news were swiftly dealt with by the authorities.118 The case of Hugh de la Pole shows this clearly. In June 1383 de la Pole was arrested in London and sentenced to the pillory for having invented stories concerning the taking of Ypres by Henry Despenser, bishop of Norwich. What sealed his fate was the fact that he had mentioned how dissent had broken out among the ranks of the English army at the siege. An example had to be made in this case; otherwise ‘the whole kingdom might be easily disturbed and disquieted thereby’.119 The authorities were only being consistent when they charged the anti-Lancastrian conspirators in Essex in 1404 of having falsely proclaimed that Richard II was alive and that he intended to invade England from the north, ‘cum maxima multitudine populi Francigenorum, Scotorum et Wallicorum’.120 Punishments for spreading rumours were heavy. Hugh de la Pole, as already noted, suffered the pillory for his crime, while in May 1383 Thomas Depham of Norfolk had been arrested for declaring news from Flanders, concerning bishop Despenser’s ‘crusade’, to have been false. For this offence he was committed to prison.121
116 Statutes of the Realm, I, 35.117 BL, Cotton MS. Julius C iv, fo. 8.118 Select Cases in the Court of King’s Bench, ed. G. O. Sayles (London, Selden Soc., 1939), III, p. cxi.119 Memorials of London and London Life in the XIIIth, XIVth and XVth Centuries, 1276–1419, ed. H. T. Riley (London, 1868), pp. 479–480.120 Select Cases in the Court of King’s Bench, ed. G. O. Sayles (Selden Society, 1971), VII, p. 153, no. 26.121 Calendar of Plea and Memoranda Rolls of London, III, p. 36.
Apart from the measures already described, other means were also adopted to counter the threat of espionage in England. Royal and local officials were, as part of their general peace-keeping duties, expected to be on the alert for anyone engaged in nefarious activities of any sort. Such local officials frequently received writs containing explicit instructions to apprehend enemy agents. In March 1354 the mayor and bailiffs of Carlisle received a commission to arrest and imprison all Scots and others spying on the defects of the city walls, and also any others whom they suspected of being spies.122 Other occasions, too, saw the appointment of officers whose sole responsibility was the apprehension of enemy agents. In 1387, for instance, Thomas de Milton was appointed with four associates to seek out and arrest all Irish rebels who had entered as spies.123 Commissions could, and might, authorise the arrest of named suspects: a commission of August 1359 appointed Nigel de Haukynton and others to arrest John de Cornwaille and William de Derby, ‘adherents of the king’s enemies of France’, who were believed at that time to be spying in London and elsewhere.124
122 Calendar of Documents relating to Scotland, III, p. 287, no. 1573.123 CPR, 1385–89, p. 265.124 Ibid, 1358–61, p. 284.
But it was not merely the authorities who were instrumental in the capture of enemy spies. The English people were themselves aware of the threat presented by enemy agents to national security. Numerous arrests and denunciations made by ordinary subjects testify to this. In 1380, several suspected spies were arrested ‘by the men of London’125 Such public awareness doubtless received a boost from the growth of national (or, more accurately, anti-French and anti-Scottish) feeling. But there was more to it than that. Popular involvement was actively encouraged by king and council, and throughout the Hundred Years’ War was strongly evoked by those statutes known as the ‘hosting laws’ which constituted one method of keeping a measure of control upon aliens ‘come les Engloises sount tretez de par dela’.126 The statute of Winchester of 1285 had already ensured that watches be held in towns, had imposed curfews, and had provided that stringent checks be made on the movements of strangers. Moreover, by statute of 9 Edward III, innkeepers were obliged to search their guests and make report.127 From time to time, too, the crown decreed that the peace statutes against strangers should be re-enforced, as in March 1341, when it was decided that all strangers were to be arrested and, if suspected, to be delivered to the sheriff for custody in his gaol.128 In cases of resistance, the hue and cry was to be enforced. In 1354 the inhabitants of Carlisle were ordered to assist the authorities in the search for enemy spies.129 The underlying principle, therefore, continued to be the general obligation to keep the peace, as embodied in the Statute of Winchester and other legislation.
125 CCR, 1377–81, p. 416.126 Rotuli Parliamentorum, iv, p. 13.127 Statutes of the Realm, I, pp. 273–274.128 CPR, 1340–43, p. 206.129 See n. 122.
The extent of activity against enemy spies in England may be measured by the large number of arrests on record. Many of these, however, were false arrests, based upon unfounded suspicion. It was not always easy for English port officials to distinguish between Flemish and other Netherlandish dialects, or between Castilian and Portuguese. Hence the not infrequent arrests of ships belonging to a friendly country in error for those of an enemy, or of natives of friendly countries who were taken, again in error, for spies. The staplers of Middelburg wrote to Nicholas Brembre, mayor of London in 1381–82, pleading for the release of one Henrick Wilde who ‘longment est detenuz en prison a Londres, a cause qil estoit pris en companie de Flamyngs, et que homme qui dist qil estoit Flamyng, dount, seignour, vous plese assaver qil lest neez de Zeland, et qil est cousin le burghemestre de Midelburghe’.130 More unfortunate was the case of Stephen Philip, who entered England in 1375 to visit a Norman monk at Long Bennington.131 Arrested by the sheriffs of London and imprisoned on suspicion of espionage, his release on bail was ordered by the king, provided that he had not been found guilty. Apparently, however, this intention was never fulfilled, since an endorsement on the document states that he was unable to find bail.132 Nevertheless, in many cases there was good cause for suspicion. The enemy agents discovered in London in 1346 was certainly up to no good; they were said to have ‘hung out on a lance the shield of arms of some great Scots lord so that the king’s enemies might know their retreat’.133
130 TNA, S.C. 1/43/82, p. 83. An item in the Chancery Miscellanea concerning persons detained by the sheriff of London in 5 Richard II refers to ‘Henricus Wylde de Middelburgh in Seland, detentus et captus … pro suspicione exploratoracionis’ (C 47/28/6/22).131 CCR, 1374–77, p. 139.132 Calendar of Inquisitions, Miscellaneous, 1348–77, p. 982.133 Calendar of Documents relating to Scotland, III, p. 268, no. 1472. The same fear of strangers is reflected in a letter from king Charles VII to the mayor and jurat of Bordeaux, dated Nov. 1459, some years after the expulsion of the English from Gascony: ‘Item, et pour ce qu’on dit qu’on tollere aux Anglois qui viennent en ceste ville, sans guide et garde, et de nuyt, sans lumiere, et aussi d’aler par le pais de Medouc et d’Entre-Deux Mars, achater les vins d’ostel en hostel, et communiquer et converser avecques ceulx de ladicte ville et du pais en secret, et oyr la conduicte des gens de guerre, qui est chose trop dangereuse, et en quoy est necessaire mettre autre remede, car aucunes foiz les flotz sont venuz si grand nombre d’Anglois, et encores pourroient venir, qui n’y mettra ordre, dommaige irreparable sen pourra ensuir’ (Archives Historiques de la Gironde, ix, p. 404).
Persons arrested on suspicion of spying in England were usually sent to the king or council, or sometimes to both, for interrogation. In 1378, and again in 1382, all spies and persons carrying bulls were also to be brought before the king and council;134 in October 1373 enemy alien friars were sent before the council for questioning;135 while in 1377 the council interrogated French spies captured on the Scottish border.136 Less frequently, arrested suspects were questioned in chancery, as was the case in March 1380 when sergeants-at-arms, appointed to arrest alien spies, were ordered to conduct them either before the chancery or before the king and council.137 Where it was more convenient, captured suspects were brought for initial questioning before other high-ranking or trusted officials, such as the captain of Calais or the Wardens of the Scottish Marches. If it was decided that the case was important enough they might be sent before the council. If, however, it were only a small issue of local importance, the matter might go no further; in 1389, John, Lord Cobham, and Sir William Heroun were deemed to be of sufficient standing to investigate the case of Hugh Pot of Gelderland, ‘pris comme espie’, who was sent before them ‘pour estre examine de certainez piecez. … pris dil dit Hugh’.138
134 CPR, 1377–81, pp. 163, 219; Ibid, 1381–85, pp. 200, 350, 424.135 CCR, 1369–74, p. 517.136 TNA, E.403/463, m. 3. See above, n. 21, for the French herald interrogated on suspicion of spying in those parts.137 CPR, 1377–81, p. 475.138 TNA, C.47/2/49/16.
Spies and suspects awaiting interrogation were held in prison until they could be dealt with. The most usual place of detention in London was Newgate prison. Bearers of ‘prejudicial bulls’ arrested in London in 1342 were cast into Newgate, prior to their interrogation by the council.139 In the 1380s the prison was bursting at the seams with spies and suspects detained there.140 Outside London, royal castles were frequently used to accommodate captured enemy agents. Windsor Castle housed more than one French spy in 1379 while the castles of York, Gloucester, Corfe, and others were also often employed for the same purpose.141
139 CCR, 1341–43, p. 660.140 Ibid, 1377–81, p. 416; R. B. Pugh, Imprisonment in Medieval England (Cambridge, 1970), pp. 106–107.141 For Windsor, TNA, E.404/10/70/20 and CCR, 1377–81, pp. 174, 319; for York, CPR, 1338–40, p. 77; for Gloucester, CCR, 1377–81, p. 164; for Corfe, CCR, 1381–85, p. 364.
Although evidence shows that spies were held in prison pending questioning by the authorities, less is known concerning the punishments inflicted upon those convicted of spying. It has been noted that spreaders of false rumours were liable to jail or the pillory. Pilgrims and others leaving the realm clandestinely in 1381 ran the risk of one year’s imprisonment if detected.142 Beyond this, there is little evidence concerning the fate of proven spies. The fact that Thomas Turberville paid the extreme penalty has been taken to show that by the end of the thirteenth century spying could incur the penalty for treason.143 A century and a half later Nicholas Upton was in no doubt that ‘men of warre schall lese there heddys [as] Spyyse that schew the secretes off the hooste to ther enmyys’.144 But there is none the less evidence to suggest that the English crown’s policy towards spies was less severe than a lawyer like Upton might regard as fitting. When Nicholas de Wantham, the parson of Banbury, was accused in 1285 of associating with Guy and Emeric de Montfort and with Llewellyn of Wales, the king’s enemies, and of passing on to them by letter information gathered at the English court, he was said to have acted ‘contra fidelitatem suam et contra foedus suum et ligeitatem quam debuit Domino Regi’, an accusation which branded him as a ‘proditor’, or traitor. Wantham does not appear to have been captured, so that outlawry and deprivation of his cure were the only effective penalties which could be applied against him.145 In December 1380 a large number of suspects who had been ‘found wandering in. … [London]. … at the time when the galleys were at sea, running hither and thither about the city like spies’, were released, on royal instructions, from Newgate for Christmas.146 Even convicted spies stood a fair chance of receiving a pardon. In 1378 Roger Foucate, a spy for the French cardinals, was arrested and imprisoned and then interrogated sporadically by the council throughout 1379 and 1380, only to be released in August 1380.147 Robert Rillyngton, of Scarborough, was convicted by the justices of Oyer and Terminer for Yorkshire in 1382 on charges of having ‘dealt with the king’s enemies, bought from them ships and goods captured from the king’s subjects, conveyed victuals and moneys to their ships, and led them secretly by night to inspect the town and castle of Scarborough’. In November of that year he was fortunate enough to receive a pardon for these offences on payment of a fine of 100 marks at the Hanaper; a second pardon, too, for other offences, the chief of which was that ‘at the bidding of the king’s enemies he went to sea and traitorously assisted them against the king’.148
142 CPR, 1381–85, p. 1.143 J. G. Bellamy, The Law of Treason in England in the Later Middle Age (Cambridge, 1970), p. 16.144 De Studio Militari, ed. Barnard, p. 5.145 Oxford City Documents, 1268–1665, ed J. E. Thorold Rogers (Oxford, 1891), pp. 183–184, 204–205.146 CCR, 1377–81, p. 416.147 CPR, 1377–81, pp. 163, 219; CCR, 1377–81, pp. 164, 174, 319, 398.148 CPR, 1381–85, pp. 190–201. It is strange that this man should have been treated so lightly, since he was so plainly a traitor. The crime of Thomas Turberville, who had suffered the extreme penalty for aiding the king’s enemies, was alluded to frequently throughout the fourteenth century. A schedule of 1337–38 naming traitors as one of the chief dangers facing the realm, cited Turberville as the supreme example. It had recommended the sternest penalties for any such transgressors in the future. (TNA, C.47/28/5/34–36).
This leniency was quite out of keeping with the strict precautions taken against spies to ensure the security of the realm. Occasionally, however, agents were committed to gaol. In 1384 a malefactor who had stirred up trouble ‘to the peril of the realm’ was arrested on the king’s orders by Nicholas Brembre, and was imprisoned in Corfe Castle at the king’s pleasure.149 Such evidence is what would be expected in view of the fact that enemy espionage was regarded, by both crown and people, as a serious threat to the security of England. It also accorded with the sentences meted out to spies by the French authorities. Thus Hennequin du Bos paid for his treason and espionage with his life in 1390, while the Parisian informer, significantly ‘ung varlet boucher qui estoit devenu poursuivant, qui portoit aux ennemis anciens tous les secretz que on faisoit a Paris’ was duly executed in the French capital during Holy Week, 1437.150 On the other hand it must also be noted that the French could choose to be merciful, as in the case of Jean Thiebout and his wife who were pardoned in 1359 for having been forced to work for the English under threat of death.151
149 CCR, 1381–85, p. 364.150 Journal d’un Bourgeois de Paris, 1405–1440, ed. A. Tuetey (Paris, 1881), pp. 330–331; A Parisian Journal, 1405–1440, trans. J. Shirley (Oxford, 1968), p. 315. For the herald’s opinion regarding pursuivants, see above, n. 21.151 Paris, AN, JJ.90, fo. 118, no. 218.
Espionage played a significant role in fourteenth-century warfare. If its extent has been largely under-estimated by recent historians, its importance was better recognised by contemporary writers such as Mézières, Christine de Pisan, and Philippe de Commynes. The value of espionage was certainly well appreciated by contemporary monarchs, who often based military decisions upon intelligence received. English writs issuing instructions for coastal defences frequently gave reasons why the orders which they contained should be carried out. In 1343, for instance, defensive measures were implemented because ‘pro certo iam noviter intelleximus quod galee guerrine in non modico minimo cum magna multitudine armatorum … venientes versus Angliam’.152 Such predictions were almost certainly based upon information sent to the king by his agents. In many cases, the intelligence was accurate. The English saw for themselves, at the capture, at Caen in 1346, were found French plans to descend upon England with an ‘immensa multitudine galearum et navium’, proving that reports previously sent to England had been perfectly correct.153 On other occasions intelligence was inevitably defective. Nevertheless, it is certain that all governments set great store by information sent to them by their agents, and that all users and military leaders employed secret agents to spy upon the secrets of their enemies during the prolonged warfare of the fourteenth century.
152 TNA, C.76/23, m. 20.153 Foedera, II, ii, 1055 (for the writs of warning). For the captured documents outlining the French invasion plan, see Rotuli Parliamentorum, ii, 158–159; The Black Book of the Admiralty, ed. T. Twiss (4 vols, London, Rolls Series, 1871–76), I, pp. 426–429.