Conor Byrne: 21 September 1327: The Death of Edward II? 21 September 1327: The Death of Edward II? Above: Edward II's tomb effigy at Gloucester Cathedral. Edward II, king of England from 1307, allegedly died at Berkeley Castle twenty years later, on 21 September 1327. As biographer Harold F. Hutchinson explains in his 1971 study of the king: 'The true story of the manner of Edward's death can never be known for certain'. The former king had been deposed in January 1327 and succeeded by his fourteen-year old son Edward, known as Edward III. His father's reign had, in the words of Natalie Fryde, been 'disastrous'. Edward's wife, Isabella of France, had invaded the country in September 1326 having initially departed to be involved in peace negotiations with the French king.

Outraged by the power wielded by her husband's favourites, the Despensers, who had sequestrated her estates and virtually imprisoned herself and her servants, Isabella returned to England alongside her ally - and possibly lover - Roger Mortimer, later earl of March, and a host of supporters. City after city in England supported her, including London, which became her most imposing stronghold. Edward II was taken to Kenilworth Castle, where the bishop of Hereford demanded that he abdicate, charging the king with, amongst other things, being personally incapable of governing; of allowing himself to be led and governed by others; of devoting himself to unsuitable occupations while neglecting the government of his kingdom; of forfeiting the king of France's friendship, and losing the kingdom of Scotland and lands and lordships in Ireland and Gascony; and of exhibiting pride, cruelty, and covetousness. Edward remained virtually imprisoned at Kenilworth until 2 April 1327, when he was transferred to the custody of Thomas Berkeley and John Maltravers, following a plot led by the Dominican John Stoke to free him.

In July, a further conspiracy to release him occurred, and on 14 September, Sir Rhys ap Gruffudd's plot to liberate him was uncovered. A week later, at the parliament at Lincoln, it was announced that the former king had died 'a natural death' at Berkeley Castle in Gloucestershire. His corpse was moved to Gloucester for public display a month later, and on 20 December he was buried in St Peter's Abbey, Gloucester, in the presence of his son and his widow. A splendid tomb was erected by Edward III in his father's memory. Above: Berkeley Castle, where Edward II allegedly died in 1327. Historians traditionally accepted that Edward II died at Berkeley Castle on 21 September 1327. Hutchinson, for instance, noted that although a mystery surrounded his end, 'the only fact which seems well established is that Edward of Caernarvon was murdered, if not to the instructions of, at least with the connivance of Mortimer, and probably also of Isabella [Edward's wife]'.

But as Natalie Fryde correctly noted in her 1979 study of the last years of his reign, 'if we separate contemporary evidence about his [Edward's] fate from the legend which has accrued around it, we are certainly left with more mystery than certainty'. It is essential to bear in mind this point - legend has replaced concrete historical fact regarding Edward II's end. An obvious example of this is the lingering popularity of the notion that Edward died by having a red hot poker thrust into his anus, allegedly a gruesome parody of his enjoyment of homosexual sex. The chronicle of Geoffrey le Baker (died c. 1360), reported this, as did the Brut chronicle, composed in the 1340s. But both Ian Mortimer and Kathryn Warner have disputed the 'anal rape' narrative of the king's death, arguing instead that it reflected beliefs that he was the passive partner in male-male sexual relations. There is, in short, no compelling evidence for the red hot poker story. As Hutchinson incredulously noted, Baker 'asks his readers to believe that Edward's murderers were so inept, and the castle walls so thin, that townsfolk outside the castle were able to hear the king's dying shrieks'.

He dismisses Baker's claims as being 'lurid fiction'. Above: Gloucester Cathedral, where Edward II may - or may not - be buried. Other contemporary chronicles were more vague. This perhaps arises from the fact that the actual cause of the former king's death was never stated. Adam Murimuth, writing in the reign of Edward III, vaguely noted that Edward II was 'commonly said' to have been murdered as a precaution on the orders of Maltravers and Gurney. Edward's death has always invited suspicion. As Mark Ormrod notes, it was 'suspiciously timely', leading some historians to argue that the former king was murdered on the orders of the new regime. Kathryn Warner also noted in a blog post that Edward's 'death might have appeared suspiciously convenient for Roger Mortimer and Queen Isabella'. Professor Phillips, who wrote a magisterial account of the king's life, stated that murder was the likeliest fate of Edward II. He noted, however, that the king could have died of natural causes. Phillips dismissed reports of the former king's survival as being 'circumstantial', but noted the mystery about his supposed end.

Most historians have agreed that Edward II died at Berkeley Castle on the night of 21 September, perhaps of natural causes, perhaps through murder. Phillips stated that he may have been suffocated; Roy Haines speculated that the former king had been murdered and stated 'there is little reason to doubt that Edward of Caernarfon's corpse has remained there [at Gloucester Cathedral] undisturbed since December 1327 or thereabouts'; Michael Prestwich opined that Edward II 'almost certainly died at Berkeley'; Mira Rubin concluded that the former king was likely murdered; Joe Burden charged Mortimer with ordering Edward's death; and Chris Given-Wilson explained that Edward II was 'almost certainly' murdered on the night of 21 September, and died in any case. Above: Edward III, who succeeded in 1327 on the abdication of his father. Yet, as Warner recognises, it was only after the downfall of Mortimer and Isabella in 1330 that Edward II was reported to have been murdered, at the parliament at Westminster. Edward III accused Mortimer of 14 heinous offences, including ordering the murder of his father.

Thomas Lord Berkeley, son-in-law of Mortimer and former custodian of Edward II, reported at this parliament that 'he wishes to acquit himself of the death of the same king, and says that he was never an accomplice, a helper or a procurer in his death, nor did he ever know of his death until this present parliament', a sentence that has confused and puzzled historians ever since. Other points of mystery exist. Maltravers was never accused or punished for his role in the former king's death. Berkeley himself was acquitted, as was Shalford. The former king's half-brother, the earl of Kent, conspired in 1330 to free Edward from captivity, writing a letter outlining his intent to release his half-brother with 'the assent of almost all the great lords of England'. William Melton, the archbishop of York, wrote a letter to Simon Swanland, a London merchant, in 1329/30 asking him to co-operate with William Clif in aiding the 'old king' upon his release, specifically describing the delivery of clothes and money to Edward. Moreover, in the nineteenth century the so-called "Fieschi Letter" came to light.

Written by Manuele Fieschi, a papal notary, Canon of York and Nottingham, and Bishop of Vercelli from 1342, the letter reports that Edward II escaped from Berkeley Castle in autumn 1327, making his way to Corfe Castle in Dorset, before departing for Ireland and later to Avignon clothed as a pilgrim. He spent two weeks with the pope, before making his way to Brabant, Cologne and later Italy. Recently, historians have generally tended to validate the letter's contents. Fryde stated: 'it is very difficult to think why Fieschi himself... should have manufactured such a letter'. Ian Mortimer believed it was genuine, and devoted considerable time in his studies of Roger Mortimer and Edward III to explaining his theory that Edward II was not, in fact, murdered at Berkeley Castle, and escaped to Europe. Ian Doherty and Alison Weir also accepted that the letter was genuine, and concluded that Edward did escape to Europe, living out his life as a pilgrim. 'William the Welshman' met Edward III at Koblenz in September 1338, claiming to be the king's father. Edward III spent some time with him.

As Warner relates: 'other royal pretenders of the era definitely did not spend several weeks socialising with the royal personage they were pretending to be, or claiming kinship with'. She later concluded that 'Edward II or not, the whole episode is an oddity'. Above: another unlucky king. Edward II's great-grandson, Richard II, was also deposed in 1399, and probably murdered early the following year. Plainly, there is a wealth of evidence to call into question the traditional notion that Edward II died (probably murdered) on 21 September 1327 at Berkeley Castle. While agreeing with Ian Mortimer that it cannot now be stated with any certainty that the former king's life came to an end in the autumn of that year, less than nine months after his forced abdication, I raised some issues with the survival story. There are nagging questions in my mind that Ian Mortimer, and other revisionist historians, have not sufficiently answered (if they have even considered them in the first place). Firstly: why did Edward III wish to get back in touch with his father, as Mortimer suggests? What did it achieve?

Did he want to see if 'William the Welshman' was merely an imposter, or had he enjoyed a close and intimate relationship with the former king pre-1327 that he wished to continue? Was Edward II content to live as a pilgrim in Europe? Evidence seems to me to compellingly indicate that Edward II firmly believed in the institution of monarchy and was convinced of his right to rule. He was anoited by God, chosen by Him to represent God on earth. Why, then, would he have been content to allow his son to rule? To remove a king unlawfully, which had been the case in 1327 (Edward II only abdicated under duress and coercion), constituted usurpation and a damnable offence in the eyes of God. Ian Mortimer suggested that father and son, reunited in Europe, met and talked with one another. Was there an agreement between them that Edward III would keep his father's identity secret, as long as his father did not make a bid for the English throne? Questions like these are never comprehensively answered.

Berkeley, at the parliament of November 1330, could have been lying in an attempt to save his own skin when he declared that he had never previously heard of Edward II's death. In the medieval context, deposition was usually followed by death. Edward II was the first king to be deposed, but consider later instances: Richard II is believed by historians to have been put to death, or forcibly starved, in 1400 when Henry IV took the throne from him; Henry VI was murdered in 1471, almost certainly on the orders of Edward IV who deposed him; the twelve-year old Edward V was deposed in 1483 and probably murdered, although mystery surrounds his fate and that of his brother; and the deposed Lady Jane Grey, the 'nine-days queen', was executed by her cousin Mary I in 1554. Mortimer and Isabella's regime was notably precarious and unstable, as historians like Fryde recognise. Would they really have been content to allow Edward to live out his days in context of repeated rebellions to release him?

Even if they had nothing to do with his death, his jailers may have considered that putting him to death was the only viable way forward. Or, simply, he may very well have died of natural causes. This article does not seek to refute revisionists' claims that Edward II survived. It is extremely possible that he did, for there is no conclusive evidence that he died, or was murdered, at Berkeley Castle in 1327. But equally, it cannot be stated with certainty that he escaped abroad and lived out the rest of his days in Europe. Whether Edward II, an ill-fated and complex king, met his end at Berkeley in autumn 1327 or not, is a profound and lingering historical mystery that may never be comprehensively solved. Posted by The Death of Edward II – natural causes, suffocation or a red-hot poker up the bum? | Behind The Curtain The Death of Edward II – natural causes, suffocation or a red-hot poker up the bum? / C.R. Berry Edward II – an ill-fated king The death of King Edward II during his imprisonment at Berkeley Castle in 1327 is shrouded in mystery.

Nobody knows for certain whether he died of natural causes, was murdered on the orders of his wife, or in fact swapped his clothes with a servant and escaped… It’s an understatement to say that Edward II had a pretty rough time as king of England. Unsuccessful military campaigns. Uprisings and civil wars. And after years of making enemies all over the country because of his controversial relationship with the unpopular Piers Gaveston, and later the hated Despenser family, he fell out of favour with his own wife – the French king’s sister, Isabella. In 1326, Queen Isabella turned against Edward, gathered an army and kicked him off the throne. As a result, Edward II became the first English monarch to be deposed. Depending on what you believe, it’s possible he then suffered a very gruesome death by having a red-hot poker shoved up his anus – on Isabella’s orders. She sounds like a woman you wouldn’t want to mess with. Queen Isabella – the ‘She-Wolf of France’ Isabella had a deep dislike for Edward’s close friend and adviser, the very rich and influential Hugh Despenser the Younger.

Some people say he was the real ruler of England because of how much he dominated Edward. She was also embarrassed by Edward’s unsuccessful military campaigns in Scotland and considered him an incompetent king. Finally, because of rising tensions with the French, Edward and Hugh had decided in 1324 to confiscate Isabella’s lands and place her youngest children into the custody of the Despenser family. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. In 1325, Isabella went to France to negotiate a peace treaty with the French king on Edward II’s behalf. After negotiations completed, she decided not to return to England and plotted against Edward instead. She became involved with an exiled lord, Roger Mortimer, and the two of them hatched a plan to remove Edward II and the Despensers from power. Queen Isabella and her forces In 1326, Isabella and Mortimer gathered an army and invaded England. Edward was pretty unpopular by this point, largely because people hated the Despensers, and many rose up against Edward in support of Isabella, forcing the king to flee London.

Eventually Edward was captured and imprisoned by Isabella’s forces, and she and Mortimer became the de facto rulers of England. Was Edward murdered with a red-hot poker? In January 1327, Edward II was forced to abdicate. His young son was crowned Edward III, with Isabella as queen regent. Edward II was moved to the more secure location of Berkeley Castle. What happened after this is still a massive source of debate. On 23rd September 1327, Isabella and Edward III were informed by messenger that Edward II had died at Berkeley Castle because of a ‘fatal accident’ – which is the information that was given to Parliament. Nobody is clear on the nature of this accident or what is said to have happened. Others say he died from ill-health and depression brought on by his captivity. But the most popular view is that he was murdered on the orders of Isabella and Mortimer. There is a legend that the two of them plotted to murder him in such a way that they could deny any wrongdoing.

Allegedly, they sent a famous order, “Eduardum occidere nolite timere bonum est”, which – depending where you place the comma – could be read as “Do not be afraid to kill Edward; it is good”, or “Do not kill Edward; it is good to fear”. The evidence is minimal, but the likelihood that most historians subscribe to is that Isabella and Mortimer did have Edward killed, because of concerns over plots to liberate him. How they murdered him is also up for debate. Some say he was suffocated or strangled. But a sordid legend has it that a group of men held the king down, pushed a horn into his anus, and then inserted a red-hot poker to burn out all of his internal organs. It was a method of execution that would leave no visible marks on the body. However, most historians now agree that the red-hot poker story was just medieval propaganda – possibly inspired by Edward’s rumoured homosexuality. It seems we’ll never know how Edward II died… But maybe Edward didn’t die at Berkeley at all… There is a minority view that in fact Edward II escaped Berkeley Castle and carried on his life in exile in Europe.

This theory comes from the ‘Fieschi Letter’ – an undated letter written by priest Manuele Fieschi to Edward III, a copy of which was first discovered in 1877 in Montpellier. The letter says that when Edward II heard that he was to be murdered at Berkeley Castle, he swapped clothes with a servant and escaped by killing the gatekeeper. Berkeley Castle – where Edward II was imprisoned and (possibly) murdered The question is, who did they bury at Gloucester Cathedral if it wasn’t Edward II? Some say that it was either the gatekeeper – and Isabella knew her husband had escaped – or it was the servant, killed by Isabella’s assassins. The Fieschi Letter goes on to state that Edward fled to Corfe Castle in Dorset, then travelled to Ireland, France and eventually settled in Italy, where he spent the rest of his days as a hermit. Supporters of the Fieschi Letter point to royal accounts that mention Edward III’s meeting with ‘William the Welshman’ whilst in Germany – a man who claimed to be Edward II. No further details about ‘William the Welshman’ are known.

Other documents detail how Edmund, the Earl of Kent, was executed for plotting to liberate Edward II from Corfe Castle – three years after his apparent death. In addition, evidence that it was actually the king’s body buried at Gloucester Cathedral is a bit shoddy. For the first time, a wooden effigy of the king was carried through the streets instead of his body. Furthermore, the body was embalmed before it was viewed (from a distance) by local dignitaries, which possibly made it unrecognisable. Do I smell a cover-up? One that maybe even Edward III was in on, or knew about? It certainly seems quite fanciful that Edward II escaped and survived in the way the letter tells it – and the letter’s motives are doubted by historians. However, the evidence for all accounts of what happened to Edward II is inadequate. We don’t even have a cause of death, just a number of wildly different theories. So perhaps Edward II was more resourceful than Isabella thought… Next week: Who killed Jill Dando?

Sources: The Death of Edward II | History Today The Death of Edward II The Greatest Traitor: The Life of Sir Roger Mortimer, 1st Earl of March, Ruler of England 1327-1330 Ian Mortimer Jonathan Cape xix + 377 pp. £17.99 Isabella and the Strange Death of Edward II Paul Doherty Constable 262 pp. £17.99 In January 1327 Edward II became the first English king since the Conquest to be deposed; his son, Edward III (1327-77), was put in his place. Following the King’s removal, the new King’s guardians – Isabella, Edward II’s queen, and her lover Roger Mortimer – had to decide what to do with him. Initially it was decided to keep him a prisoner. But by the summer, after a failed bid to release him, it was felt that he was safer dead. On the night of September 21st, at Berkeley, he was brutally murdered. Or was he? This is the intriguing question raised by these two books.

Mortimer and Doherty both believe that Edward’s death was faked. The two studies are very different. One is the exceedingly racy life of Edward’s queen, and the other a full-length biography of her magnate lover. But they both have the King’s fate as their climax. Mortimer’s is the weightier of the two books. It is a superb study of the man who was effective ruler of England from 1327 to 1330. It is not easy to write the life of a medieval magnate. The sources are few, and it is hard to bring them to life. Too often, an attempted biography degenerates into a ‘life and times’ treatment, in which the subject recedes into the background. But not so here: Roger is kept firmly to the fore. Ian Mortimer sees the king-making Marcher lord as a man who was a courtier by instinct, driven to opposition, as were so many of his peers, by the rise of the Despensers. In Edward’s early years he had been strongly royalist in sympathy: he had stood by the King when Lancaster was demanding the removal of Gaveston, and he supported him after Bannockburn.

In a brilliant chapter he shows how Roger reimposed English rule on Ireland in the wake of the Bruce invasion in 1315. For Roger, he argues, the parting of the ways came with the rise of the Despensers from 1320. The Despensers were engaged in empire-building in the Welsh Marches, Roger’s own part of the world. When in 1321 the Marchers rose in rebellion, Roger was arrested and locked in the Tower. Two years later, however, he made a dramatic escape – aided, it is argued, by Isabella – and he fled into exile. By 1325 Isabella herself had joined him on the Continent and the two became lovers. In 1326 they invaded England and Edward’s regime collapsed. For three years from 1327 Roger and Isabella effectively ruled England under Edward III’s nominal authority. But Roger’s arrogance brought him down. When his airs and graces became too much, Edward had him arrested and executed. Doherty’s no less compelling book focuses more directly on Isabella.

It conveniently summarises much of the material in his unpublished Oxford thesis of the 1970s – a work on which Mortimer draws extensively. He takes us at a cracking pace through Isabella’s early life, sketching the background to her marriage (a peace deal with France) and stressing her loyalty to her husband even during the years of Gaveston’s dominance. He argues that the breakdown between king and queen came with the rise of the younger Despenser. By the 1320s there were three in this marriage (a phrase we have heard in our own time). Startlingly, he suggests that Despenser may have been guilty of sexual impropriety towards the Queen. If that was the case, no wonder Isabella was repelled. And no wonder she insisted on the most gruesome of deaths for him. For many readers this material, however salacious, will be no more than a warm-up for the real mystery: what happened to Edward II? Both Doherty and Mortimer are in agreement: Edward II did not die at Berkeley. While Roger and Isabella said in public that he did, they told a lie. Edward regained his freedom. The theory is admittedly not new.

It was first floated in the nineteenth century, when a document known as the ‘confession of Edward II’ was discovered in an archive in southern France. In this curious narrative, recorded by a papal agent, Manuel Fieschi, who passed it on to Edward III, someone claiming to be Edward II recounted that he had escaped from Berkeley, fled to Corfe, then made it to Ireland, and thence to the Continent. Fieschi found this strange man living the life of a hermit in northern Italy – where he took down his story. What are we to make of this document? Scholars have generally discounted it, and perhaps rightly. Whenever a king in the Middle Ages was toppled, an impostor would pop up somewhere claiming to be him. Ian Mortimer, however, is impressed. He says that at many points the narrative can be substantiated from record sources: for example, in the statement that Edward fled from Chepstow in 1326. No run-of-the-mill impostor would know this. Accordingly, on the basis of accepting the document’s authenticity, he offers an interpretation of the years 1327-30 which assumes that Edward was alive.

His argument is that Roger and Isabella wanted him alive in order to control his son. Paul Doherty, by contrast, is distinctly unimpressed by the document. His demolition job on it is superb: he dissects it sentence by sentence, exposing its inaccuracies and ambiguities. No one could possibly take the document seriously after reading his pages. He says that one thing is true: the document has a ring of verisimilitude; but, he adds, we need to remember that Manuel Fieschi knew a lot about English affairs and had spoken to people involved in the deposition. Doherty argues that Fieschi concocted the yarn. Fieschi was greedy and avaricious, keen for preferment in the English Church. He wrote to Edward as a way of bringing pressure to bear on him. Doherty’s reading of the document is greatly to be preferred to Mortimer’s. But if we go along with him, accepting it as a forgery, where does that leave the argument about Edward II’s fate? Doherty reminds us that the government did once admit that Edward had escaped – in July 1327, when he was sprung from prison by a group of partisans.

According to the government, he was quickly recaptured. But Doherty does not believe this. In his view, he remained at large, but just faded from the scene. And perhaps that was indeed the case: it is certainly possible. If Edward was not murdered at Berkeley, then Doherty’s hypothesis has much to commend it. But are Doherty and Mortimer actually correct in supposing that he was not murdered? Both authors agree that the official account of the King’s death and the arrangements for his burial raise difficulties. But they may be jumping too quickly to a sensationalist conclusion. They argue, for example, that Edward III took no interest in commissioning a tomb for his father at Gloucester. This simply is not true. The magnificent tomb over the burial place, with its shrine-like features, is court art: court art carried from Westminster to Gloucester. And the same can be said of the remodelling of the choir: this early Perpendicular masterpiece too is court art. Edward III apparently believed that his father was buried at Gloucester. It is not entirely clear that we should believe the opposite.

Nigel Saul is the author of Death, Art, and Memory in Medieval England: The Cobham Family and their Monuments 1300-1500 (Oxford University Press, 2001). TimeRef - Medieval and Middle Ages History Timelines - Edward (II, King of England 1307-1327) Edward (II, King of England 1307-1327) Edward (II, King of England 1307-1327) Edward (II, King of England 1307-1327) Born King of England from 1307 to 1327 Origins dward was the youngest son of Edward I and Eleanor of Castile, but he was the only son to live longer than his father. He was born in 1284 at Caernarvon Castle only a year after the castle's construction was begun. Edward may have been a lonely child as his father was always away fighting the Welsh, Scottish or French and his mother died when he was only young. His elder brothers had died before he was born and his sisters were married while they were young so Edward was on his own.

This may explain the importance with which he regarded his friends. Edward I died on 7th July 1307 on the way to Scotland to conquer Robert the Bruce. The old King's dying request was that his son should carry his bones with him in battle until Robert was defeated, but Edward II had other ideas. No taste for royal duties Edward left Robert Bruce alone in the north and returned to London and to his friends. It seems that Edward II had no time for his royal duties. He preferred to spend time with Piers Gaveston who was a handsome Knight and Edward's companion since childhood. Gaveston was showered gifts and when Edward left for France in early 1308 to marry Isabella, the daughter of Philippe IV of France, Gaveston was left as Regent in charge of affairs in England. Piers Gaveston Gaveston had arranged the celebrations for Edward and his new Queen on their return to England, but there were problems with the arrangements and Edward spent more time with Gaveston than Isabella at the festivities. This troubled the new Queen and her attendants.

It also troubled Parliament who decided that Gaveston was not fit for the elevated position that Edward had given to him, and told Edward to dismiss his favourite knight. In June of 1308, Gaveston was given the role of Lieutenant of Ireland and he left England, but he had returned by the middle of 1309. A group of 21 lords were elected in agreement with Edward to oversee the management of Edward's affairs. They were known as the 'Lords Ordainers' and their most powerful member was Thomas, Earl of Lancaster. In August 1311, the Ordainers received permission from parliament to dismiss Gaveston and take control of Edwards affairs completely. Gaveston left the country in November, but was back at Edward's side by Christmas. The Lords declared war on their king in early 1312 and Edward with Gaveston moved to York to prepare for civil war. The barons found Gaveston at Scarborough Castle in May and although he was promised safe passage if he surrendered, Gaveston was taken to Warwick Castle and then executed on June 19 by the Earls of Lancaster, Warwick, Arundel and Hereford.

Scotland Since the death of his father, Edward had neglected the problem with the Scots. He had ventured briefly into Scotland in 1310, but gained nothing. Robert the Bruce had used the time to strengthen his position and in 1312 reclaimed most of the land in Scotland taken by the English. In June 1313 Bruce besieged Stirling Castle, the only castle left in English hands. The English governor of the castle Philippe de Mowbray came to an agreement with the Scots that if English forces had not reached the castle by midsummer 1314, Mowbray would surrender the castle to them. Bruce even let Mowbray leave the castle to inform the English king of the agreement. Edward had little choice but to prepared for war and called for an army to meet him at Berwick in June of 1314. Edward had collected a large army, double the size of the Scots'. The two armies met on June 24, Midsummer Day at the Bannock Burn where the Scots had prepared traps for the English troops. The English were defeated but Edward managed to escape to Berwick and then back to London.

Terrible years The years 1315, 1316, 1317 and half of 1318 were extremely bad for Edward and England. Edward lost control of the country to the Ordainers led by the Earl of Lancaster and very heavy rain across Europe destroyed crops for several years in a row. Robert the Bruce was unopposed in the north and captured Berwick and invaded Ireland. On Edward's side was Hugh Despenser (the younger). The two sides were reconciled by the Treaty of Leake in August of 1318 arranged by the 'Middle Party' led by the Earl of Pembroke. A unified King and Ordainers combined their forces and marched north to regain Berwick from the Scots. While they besieged the town in June/July of 1319, a group of Scots invaded Yorkshire and defeated an army under the control of the Archbishop of York. Edward had to abandon the siege and return to deal with the Scots in Yorkshire (truce agreed?). Hugh Despenser the Younger Hugh Despenser the Younger and his father became Edward's new favourites at court and like Gaveston before them were richly rewarded by Edward.

Hugh was given the title of Lord of Glamorgan and began to upset the Marcher Lords by obtaining their land in South Wales. The most powerful Marcher Loer was Roger Mortimer who sided with Lancaster against the king. In August 1321 the Marcher Lords with the help of Lancaster ensured that the Despensers were banished. The banishment did not last long and by January 1322, the Despensers were back. 1322 was the turning point for Edward when he first captured Roger Mortimer, sending him to the Tower of London and then the Earl of Lancaster was defeated at the Battle Boroughbridge. Lancaster was beheaded on March 22, 1322. Edward finally had his revenge for the murder of Gaveston ten years earlier. Isabella, the 'she-wolf of France' Following the death of Lancaster and the imprisonment of Roger Mortimer, Edward's new problem was his wife. Isabella may not have been very close to her husband especially when he had shown more interest in Gaveston and the Despensers. She started to openly oppose her husband and the Despensers and may have been visiting Mortimer in the Tower.

Mortimer managed to escape from the Tower at the end of 1323 and he took a ship to France. In 1324, The French king Charles IV invaded Gascony and Isabella, as the French king's sister, asked to go to France to negotiate a peace. When Isabella reached France in 1325 it emerged that she had another agenda. She met up with Roger Mortimer and together they began to plot how to overthrow Edward and the Despensers. Isabella also managed to capture her own son, Edward (III) who had travelled to France to pay homage to the French king. The French king was not happy with his sister's actions and she had to go to Hainault where she managed to recruit an army. Isabella arranged the marriage of Edward (III) to Philippa, the daughter of the Count of Hainault. Isabella and Mortimer landed in England in September of 1326. Edward II had little support in England and had to retreat to Wales. Edward and the Despensers were captured at the end of 1326, the Despensers being executed for treason.

The Barons confirmed that Edward (III) should become the keeper of the realm and in January 1326, Edward II abdicated in favour of his son. Aware that Edward II still could pose a threat to them, Isabella and Mortimer had the old king murdered at Berkeley Castle. Family Tree Details King Edward II | Behind The Curtain Behind The Curtain Conspiracy fiction author C.R. Berry presents weekly blogs about history's biggest secrets, mysteries and conspiracy theories, and exclusive news about his forthcoming trilogy "Million Eyes" Menu / C.R. Berry / Leave a comment Edward II – an ill-fated king The death of King Edward II during his imprisonment at Berkeley Castle in 1327 is shrouded in mystery. Nobody knows for certain whether he died of natural causes, was murdered on the orders of his wife, or in fact swapped his clothes with a servant and escaped… It’s an understatement to say that Edward II had a pretty rough time as king of England. Unsuccessful military campaigns. Uprisings and civil wars.

And after years of making enemies all over the country because of his controversial relationship with the unpopular Piers Gaveston, and later the hated Despenser family, he fell out of favour with his own wife – the French king’s sister, Isabella. In 1326, Queen Isabella turned against Edward, gathered an army and kicked him off the throne. As a result, Edward II became the first English monarch to be deposed. Depending on what you believe, it’s possible he then suffered a very gruesome death by having a red-hot poker shoved up his anus – on Isabella’s orders. She sounds like a woman you wouldn’t want to mess with. Queen Isabella – the ‘She-Wolf of France’ Isabella had a deep dislike for Edward’s close friend and adviser, the very rich and influential Hugh Despenser the Younger. Some people say he was the real ruler of England because of how much he dominated Edward. She was also embarrassed by Edward’s unsuccessful military campaigns in Scotland and considered him an incompetent king.

Finally, because of rising tensions with the French, Edward and Hugh had decided in 1324 to confiscate Isabella’s lands and place her youngest children into the custody of the Despenser family. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. In 1325, Isabella went to France to negotiate a peace treaty with the French king on Edward II’s behalf. After negotiations completed, she decided not to return to England and plotted against Edward instead. She became involved with an exiled lord, Roger Mortimer, and the two of them hatched a plan to remove Edward II and the Despensers from power. Queen Isabella and her forces In 1326, Isabella and Mortimer gathered an army and invaded England. Edward was pretty unpopular by this point, largely because people hated the Despensers, and many rose up against Edward in support of Isabella, forcing the king to flee London. Eventually Edward was captured and imprisoned by Isabella’s forces, and she and Mortimer became the de facto rulers of England. Was Edward murdered with a red-hot poker? In January 1327, Edward II was forced to abdicate.

His young son was crowned Edward III, with Isabella as queen regent. Edward II was moved to the more secure location of Berkeley Castle. What happened after this is still a massive source of debate. On 23rd September 1327, Isabella and Edward III were informed by messenger that Edward II had died at Berkeley Castle because of a ‘fatal accident’ – which is the information that was given to Parliament. Nobody is clear on the nature of this accident or what is said to have happened. Others say he died from ill-health and depression brought on by his captivity. But the most popular view is that he was murdered on the orders of Isabella and Mortimer. There is a legend that the two of them plotted to murder him in such a way that they could deny any wrongdoing. Allegedly, they sent a famous order, “Eduardum occidere nolite timere bonum est”, which – depending where you place the comma – could be read as “Do not be afraid to kill Edward; it is good”, or “Do not kill Edward; it is good to fear”.

The evidence is minimal, but the likelihood that most historians subscribe to is that Isabella and Mortimer did have Edward killed, because of concerns over plots to liberate him. How they murdered him is also up for debate. Some say he was suffocated or strangled. But a sordid legend has it that a group of men held the king down, pushed a horn into his anus, and then inserted a red-hot poker to burn out all of his internal organs. It was a method of execution that would leave no visible marks on the body. However, most historians now agree that the red-hot poker story was just medieval propaganda – possibly inspired by Edward’s rumoured homosexuality. It seems we’ll never know how Edward II died… But maybe Edward didn’t die at Berkeley at all… There is a minority view that in fact Edward II escaped Berkeley Castle and carried on his life in exile in Europe. This theory comes from the ‘Fieschi Letter’ – an undated letter written by priest Manuele Fieschi to Edward III, a copy of which was first discovered in 1877 in Montpellier.

The letter says that when Edward II heard that he was to be murdered at Berkeley Castle, he swapped clothes with a servant and escaped by killing the gatekeeper. Berkeley Castle – where Edward II was imprisoned and (possibly) murdered The question is, who did they bury at Gloucester Cathedral if it wasn’t Edward II? Some say that it was either the gatekeeper – and Isabella knew her husband had escaped – or it was the servant, killed by Isabella’s assassins. The Fieschi Letter goes on to state that Edward fled to Corfe Castle in Dorset, then travelled to Ireland, France and eventually settled in Italy, where he spent the rest of his days as a hermit. Supporters of the Fieschi Letter point to royal accounts that mention Edward III’s meeting with ‘William the Welshman’ whilst in Germany – a man who claimed to be Edward II. No further details about ‘William the Welshman’ are known. Other documents detail how Edmund, the Earl of Kent, was executed for plotting to liberate Edward II from Corfe Castle – three years after his apparent death. In addition, evidence that it was actually the king’s body buried at Gloucester Cathedral is a bit shoddy.

For the first time, a wooden effigy of the king was carried through the streets instead of his body. Furthermore, the body was embalmed before it was viewed (from a distance) by local dignitaries, which possibly made it unrecognisable. Do I smell a cover-up? One that maybe even Edward III was in on, or knew about? It certainly seems quite fanciful that Edward II escaped and survived in the way the letter tells it – and the letter’s motives are doubted by historians. However, the evidence for all accounts of what happened to Edward II is inadequate. We don’t even have a cause of death, just a number of wildly different theories. So perhaps Edward II was more resourceful than Isabella thought… Next week: Who killed Jill Dando? Sources: Edward II [Plantagenet], King of England | Royal Descent Edward II [Plantagenet], King of England Mother: Eleanor of Castile (1241-1290) Birth: 25 Apr 1284 Caernarvon Castle, Caernarvonshire, Wales “The actual day of Edward’s birth was 25 April, the feast of St. Mark. It was on St.

Mark’s Day that clergy and people, with crosses veiled in black, sang in procession the ‘Letania major’, with prayers for good weather, good harvests and good health in the ensuing year. The place of birth was described as ‘Carnarvon in Snowdonia’. The words might apply to either town or castle, but it was natural that as time went on the event came to be associated with Edward I’s majestic stronghold. Expert opinion, however, has concluded that this is impossible and that not a stone of the present castle was laid earlier than 1285. There was, however, already a timber-built castle, with a ditch round it and very likely it was in this residence, formerly occupied by his predecessors of the native princely house, that the baby destined to be prince of Wales first saw the light.” 1 Baptism: 1 May 1284 St. Publicius Church, Llanbeblig, Caernarvonshire, Wales “On Mayday the baby, now a week old, was baptised. As Edward, he received a name associated both with his father and with the greatest of English royal saints, Edward the Confessor. Since the building of St.

Mary Chapel in Caernarvon did not commence until 1307, the likeliest place for Edward’s baptism is the original parish church of St. Publicius in Llanbeblig, the mother church of Caernarvon, half a mile from the town.” 1 Death: 21 Sep 1327 Berkeley Castle, Gloucestershire “Edward III received news of his father’s death late at night on Wednesday 23 September at Lincoln (D.A. Harding, ‘The Regime of Isabella and Mortimer, 1326-1330’, M.Phil. thesis, University of Durham, 1985, p. 145). The death was announced publicly on Monday 28 September, the last day of Parliament. It was stated officially that Edward had died of natural causes at Berkeley Castle on the feast of St. Matthew the Apostle and Evangelist (21 September) (Doherty, Isabella, p.

228.) The accounts rendered by Thomas de Berkeley and John Maltravers tally with this date: they claimed £5 a day for their expenses in guarding the living king from the date they received him (3 April) to 21 September, and after that they claimed the same rate for custody of the dead king’s body until 21 October, when the corpse was handed over to the Abbot of St Peter’s, Gloucester (Moore, Documents Relating to the Death and Burial of King Edward II, p. 217).” 2 Burial: 20 Dec 1327 Gloucester Cathedral, Gloucestershire “The dead king was taken into the abbey (on 21 Oct.) and laid before the high altar. The corpse lay at Gloucester for almost two months. One reason for the delay in burying Edward was the long drawn-out military expedition in Scotland; another was the deliberate ploy by Isabella and Mortimer not to complete the obsequies with unseemly haste. They only reached Gloucester on 19 December, the day before the funeral took place (E/101/382/10. M.20).

Quantities of gold leaf were bought for decorating the harness around the coffin. Four standards and twenty pennants were specially made. More gold leaf was used to embroider the funeral robes laid over the casket. Four great lions, edged with gilt, were specially fashioned by the royal painter and placed on each side of the hearse. Statues of the four Evangelists with eight angels were placed, carrying golden censers. On 20 December, after the funeral Mass and the ‘Requiem’, Edward’s corpse was interred on the left side of the high altar.” 3 Occupation: King of England 1307-1327 Spouse: Princess Isabella of France Marriage: 25 Jan 1308 Boulogne-sur-Mer, France “Edward agreed to meet Philip on Sunday, 21 January 1308. Whether by accident or design, he failed to leave England until the 23rd. He arrived at Boulogne on 24 January. On Thursday, 25 January, Edward and Isabella met at the door of the cathedral church of Notre Dame Boulogne where they exchanged vows and were married. The wedding was a major event for European royalty.

Mary, the Queen Dowager of France, Isabella’s brothers, Louis, Philip and Charles, the Archduke of Austria, the Duke of Brabant and other European nobility. On Sunday, 28 January, there was a general wedding feast. On the 30th, Edward acted as host at a great banquet arranged for the French court. The King and his new Queen took lodgings near the cathedral, the rest of his retinue sheltering in canvas tents which had been set up around the harbour town of Boulogne.” 3 Children: Affair: Unknown Mistress “The identity of Adam’s mother is unknown, though presumably Edward had a reasonably serious relationship with her, as I can’t imagine that he would have acknowledged her child as his own unless he was certain that he was the father – which of course implies that he knew her well enough and for long enough to be sure that she wasn’t having sex with anyone else. Given that ‘Adam’ is not a name from Edward’s family, presumably the unknown mistress was the daughter or sister of a man called Adam, or a man called Adam was the boy’s godfather.

I haven’t a clue as to who this man might be – Edward had several servants with this name, including Adam of Lichfield, his lion-tamer.” 4 Children: Edward II: Edward II's Death (?) 21 September, 2006 Edward II's Death (?) Today marks the 679th anniversary of Edward II's death...allegedly. I suppose most people know, or think they know, the story of Edward's terrible death - the 'red-hot poker' narrative that's passed into legend. After Edward II's forced abdication in January 1327, he was first 'imprisoned' at Kenilworth Castle, under the care of his cousin Henry of Lancaster, who treated him with respect and honour. In April, he was transferred to Berkeley Castle, Gloucestershire, where his jailor was Thomas, Lord Berkeley - the son-in-law of Roger Mortimer. Berkeley had been imprisoned for several years by Edward, and his father had died during his own imprisonment, so he had little reason to like the king. The chronicle of Geoffrey le Baker, written about thirty years later, mentions Edward's ill-treatment.

He was held in a cell above the rotting corpses of animals, in an attempt to kill him indirectly. But Edward was extremely strong, fit and healthy, and survived the treatment, until on the night of 21 September 1327, he was held down and a red-hot poker pushed into his anus through a drenching-horn. His screams could be heard for miles around. This has become the standard narrative of Edward's death, but there are problems with taking it at face value. Baker hated Queen Isabella (the 'iron virago') and was constructing a narrative of 'Edward as martyr'. The chronicles written shortly after Edward's death (Anonimalle Chronicle, a shorter continuation of the Brut, Lichfield Chronicle, Adam Murimith) variously state only that he died (with no explanation given), that he died of a 'grief-induced illness', or that he was strangled or suffocated. The official pronouncement of Edward's death, in September 1327, claimed that he died of 'natural causes'.

It wasn't described as murder until November 1330, when Roger Mortimer was accused of 'having [Edward] murdered at Berkeley' during his show trial. The earliest reference to the 'red-hot poker' method is found in a longer continuation of the Brut, written in the 1330s. However, many other fourteenth-century chronicles do not repeat this allegation. None of the men who killed Edward - for the purposes of this post, I'm assuming that he really was murdered in 1327 - ever spoke about it publicly. Therefore, we're dealing with rumour and hearsay, how the chroniclers thought he'd been murdered. Admittedly, I find it very hard to view Edward's death objectively - I'm very fond of him, and would rather believe that he didn't die in such a vile way. However, the red-hot poker story does seem implausible. The idea was to kill him in such a fashion that no marks of violence would be visible on his body. However, why then kill him in such an agonising fashion that his screams could be heard for miles around?

Why torture him, so that his (dead) face wore an expression of agony, if you were trying to pretend that his death was natural? Surely strangling or smothering, or even poison, would have been more effective. These methods would also have left physical traces on Edward's body, but if his eyes were closed and his body covered up, they would have been missed by the people viewing his body. Here are some other ideas on the story: - Mary Saaler, in her 1997 biography of Edward II, quotes Adam Murimith's comment that Edward was killed per cautelam, by a trick, and wonders if this phrase became corrupted to per cauterium, a branding-iron. - Pierre Chaplais and Ian Mortimer have commented on the death of King Edmund Ironside in 1016, said to have been murdered in a similar way to Edward, while sitting on the privy. The story was often repeated in thirteeth-century chronicles. - And finally, Edward's brother-in-law the earl of Hereford was killed at the Battle of Boroughbridge in 1322 when he was skewered through the anus by a spear pushed up through the bridge.

It's my belief that the grotesque 'anal rape' narrative of Edward's death ( Dr Ian Mortimer's phrase) is nothing more than a reflection of the popular belief that Edward was the passive partner in sexual acts with men, and that this means of death represented Edward receiving his 'just desserts'. The deaths of the earl of Hereford and Edmund Ironside may have provided the inspiration for this. Similarly, the castration (or emasculation) of Edward's favourite, the younger Despenser, in November 1326, was said by the chronicler Jean Froissart to be a punishment for his sexual relations with Edward. Whether this is true or not is impossible to say, but I think the narratives of both men's deaths reflect the widespread belief that they had sexual relations and were punished for them. Often, a story that begins as a joke or a rumour takes on the aura of 'truth' - such as the death of Edward's descendant George, Duke of Clarence, who died in the Tower of London in 1478. He is supposed to have drowned in a 'butt of malmsey'. It's difficult to ascertain whether this is the truth, or merely reflects his reputation as a drunkard.

Perhaps the story also represents a general human willingness to believe the most gruesome story - after all, being murdered with a red-hot piece of metal in the anus is far more 'interesting' than being smothered. And perhaps we shouldn't discount the early account of Edward's death from 'grief-induced illness', the accusation against Mortimer notwithstanding. At first sight it's not very plausible, but it is possible - given that Edward had lost his throne, his friends were dead, his family had turned against him, and he never saw his children again. If Edward was murdered in 1327, I'm far more inclined to believe that he was suffocated or strangled. He was a strong man and would have resisted, but of course he could have been murdered while he was asleep, or drugged. But a far more fascinating question is - was Edward really murdered in 1327? Some modern historians incline to the view that he wasn't - which will be the subject of a further post shortly! Until then, I'm going to raise a glass to King Edward II, who may or may not have died exactly 679 years ago. Cheers, Your Grace!

Posted by “They don’t like it up ’em…” Revisiting the sordid deaths of Edmund Ironside, Edward II, Kenneth II and James I of Scotland | A Blast From The Past A Blast From The Past Search Search for: “They don’t like it up ’em…” Revisiting the sordid deaths of Edmund Ironside, Edward II, Kenneth II and James I of Scotland / allkindsofhistory Edward II – still the only English monarch to be subject of his own ‘anal rape narrative’ To be a king and to be murdered – one might say – is no more than a hazard of the job. To be a king and to be murdered in one’s privy, however, is to suffer a considerable indignity. Yet precisely this fate was visited on at least two British royals, if certain sources are believed – and to that number we might add the awful fate of a third king, Edward II, popularly thought to have been done in by means of a red-hot poker forced into his rectum, not to mention the fortunate if malodorous escape of a royal consort, Gerald of Windsor, whose ravishing Welsh wife, Princess Nest, lived an adventurous life early in the twelfth century.

Let us begin our tale with the first of these kings. Edmund Ironside was the son of Æthelred the Unready, the unfortunate Saxon monarch forced from his throne in 1013 by a Danish invasion led by the memorably-named Swein Forkbeard. When Swein died the following year, Æthelred returned from exile to find himself embroiled in a war of succession with another Dane, Swein’s son Cnut – the same ‘King Canute’ renowned in British folklore for his failed attempt to turn back the tides. Æthelred was no soldier, and most of the fighting was done by his son Edmund, whose martial nickname was earned in the course of fighting a series of five battles with the invaders in the summer and autumn of 1016. Although successful enough to have himself crowned king after his father’s death, Edmund was eventually undone at the Battle of Assundun, fought on 18 October 1016 and decided by the betrayal of one of his earls, the infamous Eadric Streona of Mercia , who fled the field with his men at the height of the battle, leaving Cnut victorious.

Edmund Ironside (left) takes on Cnut in single combat. From an old, but far from contemporary, source: the Chronicle Maoira of Matthew Paris Enough of the background; it’s what happened next that concerns us. Edmund still represented a threat to the Danes, and he and Cnut agreed to divide the kingdom between them, with Edmund retaining the Saxon heartland of Wessex and Cnut taking the north and east of England. This arrangement, known as the Treaty of Alney, can hardly have been agreed much earlier than the end of October, and it lasted less than a month. On 30 November (says the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle; a 12th century Ely calendar gives the date as the 29th) Edmund died, and the speedy and indubitably convenient nature of his demise soon generated some gruesome accounts of a sticky end at the hands of Cnut. Many histories pass hazily over the precise method employed, but Henry of Huntingdon, writing in the 1120s, was not so coy. His version of events concludes: King Edmund was treacherously slain a few days afterwards.

Thus it happened: one night, this great and powerful king having occasion to retire to the house for receiving the calls of nature, the son of the ealdorman Eadric, by his father’s contrivance, concealed himself in the pit, and stabbed the king twice from beneath with a sharp dagger, and, leaving the weapon fixed in his bowels, made his escape. [Foster p.195] There are plenty of problems, it must be said, with this story as it stands. For one, how could the killer be sure that the posterior he was stabbing was the king’s? For another, could he have got close enough to use a dagger? Cesspits, after all, were often deep, and the drops to them long, and at least two variant accounts wordlessly address this problem.

The first suggests that the assassin employed a spear rather than a dagger; the second, by the French chronicler Gaimar, reports that the murder was carried out by the diabolical contrivance of a ‘spring-bow’ – a deadly sort of booby trap consisting of a loaded crossbow that could be triggered by pressure and was known to the French as li ars qui ne fault, or ‘the bow that does not fail.’ According to this account (it is a late one, dating to about 1137), Edmund was shown into a privy rigged with ‘a drawn bow with the string attached to the seat, so that when the king sat on it the arrow was released and entered his fundament.’ [Bell p.134; Bradbury p.256] The truth, it is safe to say, will never be known. Several reliable chroniclers, such as William of Malmesbury and John of Worcester, say nothing of any murder.

The chroniclers who do are not entirely trustworthy; Gaimar’s romance, for one, was denounced by Warren Hollister as ‘so grossly error-ridden as to be altogether unreliable.’ [Hollister p.103] And there are a number of variants of the murder story; the German chronicler Adam of Bremen, writing in the 1070s, reported that Edmund was poisoned. [Schmeidler p.17] Several modern historians stress that no contemporary source mentions murder, and conclude that Edmund merely died of natural causes. [Lawson p.20] This may be true, of course; who knows what wounds the king may have picked up in the course of his battles. But the timing of Ironside’s death remains highly suspicious, and I have always thought that it pointed to murder more likely than not, especially when it is remembered that Cnut was far from averse to the odd assassination. In 1017, after all, the Danish king had the treacherous Eadric Streona done to death at a Christmas feast. (Oddly, this is not the only occasion on which a spring-bow is supposed to have been used to kill a British monarch.

John of Fordun – writing in the fourteenth century – reported that the same device was also used to murder Kenneth II, King of Scots (d.995). It formed part of a trap laid for the king by Finella, the daughter of the mormær of Moray, whose son had earlier been assassinated on Kenneth’s orders. Finella’s overcomplicated scheme was to arrange the construction “in a remote cottage a kind of trap never seen before. The trap had attached to it on all sides crossbows, always kept wound up, each with its cord, and fitted with the sharpest bolts and in the middle of them stood a statue like a boy, cunningly attached to the crossbows, so that if any one touched and moved it in any way he should loosen the catches of the crossbows on all sides, and immediately be pierced by the bolts discharged.” Having lured Kenneth into the dwelling, Finella “showed him the statue, which was the lever of the whole trap.

Upon his asking what this statue had to do with him, she answered, smiling: ‘My lord king, if any one should touch and move the top of the head of this statue that thou seest, a marvellous and pleasant show will spring from it.’ Wholly ignorant of the hidden treachery, he drew easily towards him with his hand the head of the machine, and loosened the levers and catches of the crossbows; so that he was suddenly pierced from all sides by the bolts released, and died without uttering another word.”) The cell at Berkeley castle reputed to have held Edward II in 1327 Much the same melange of accusation and confusion surrounds the far better known death of Edward II in 1327. The king, a weak monarch perhaps best remembered for losing the Battle of Bannockburn to the Scots, had been deposed early that year by his own wife, Queen Isabella, and her lover, Sir Roger Mortimer.

He was then imprisoned in Berkeley Castle in Gloucestershire – where, according to contemporary chroniclers, he was subject to extensive indignities, ‘including being starved and thrown into a pit of rotting corpses.’ [Mortimer 2003] Finally, in September of the same year, Edward died, and – as in the case of Edmund Ironside – there is little agreement as to how. Ian Mortimer, who has studied the subject more extensively than anyone else (and who actually supports the theory that Edward, far from dying in 1327, escaped from England to live out his days in exile, a strange tale with a surprisingly large body of evidence to support it), notes that the earliest surviving account, from the Anonimalle Chronicle (a version of the French Brut chronicle, but one dating to before 1330), attributed his death to illness, while others suggest the king died of a broken heart or was strangled. Most notoriously, however, another version of The Brut, or the Chronicles of England, dating to after 1333, has Edward murdered with a red-hot iron or copper rod.

Again, the method said to have been employed is convoluted, but Kathryn Warner summarises it as follows : On the night of 21 September 1327, he was held down and a red-hot poker pushed into his anus through a drenching-horn. His screams could be heard for miles around. Warner points out that this story should not be accepted at face value. For one thing, it emerged only in 1330, after the fall of Roger Mortimer, at a show trial designed to place the disgraced baron in the most wicked possible light. For another, if – as the chronicles suggest – the purpose of employing the horn and the red-hot rod was to kill the king in such a way that his body would bear no external sign of wounds, why do so by so violent a means that half the population of Berkeley supposedly heard his hideous screams? Why not use poison or some other, quieter method? Why not just smother him?

Mortimer, who refers to the iron rod account as the ‘anal rape narrative,’ has one plausible answer: he suggests it may have arisen as a deliberate slur on the part of chroniclers well aware that Edward II was reputed to be a passive homosexual, and who were perhaps inspired in part by the rumours that surrounded the death of Edmund Ironside. This would certainly chime with the French chronicler Froissart’s detailed description of the execution of Edward’s reputed lover, Hugh Despenser the Younger; this, uniquely, comments that as Despenser mounted the ladder to be hanged, on li copa tout les premiers le vit et les coulles – that is, he was castrated. [Sponsler p.152] On the other hand, Mary Saaler, a biographer of Edward, has another ingenious suggestion: that the contemporary comment of the chronicler Adam Murimuth that Edward was killed per cautelam, by a trick, may have become corrupted to per cauterium – that is, by a branding-iron. [Saaler p.140] Whatever the truth, it seems it would certainly be wise not to believe the Brut account implicitly.

King James I of Scotland: died amidst indescribable filth Far less controversy surrounds the third and arguably the most gruesome of our royal deaths, not least because only one detailed version of events survives. This is an account given by the English chronicler John Shirley about 15 years after the events it describes – though conventionally Shirley is thought to have had access to a contemporary Latin document written by someone much closer to the scene. What’s not in dispute is that James was a highly unpopular king. Restored to the Scottish throne after 19 years spent in captivity in England (he had been captured at sea by English pirates in 1406), he appeared back in Scotland with a large ransom to collect. The raising of this payment required extortionate taxes to be levied; the king preferred to concentrate power in his own hands rather than distribute the anticipated patronage; and his efforts to strike back at England ended in expensive military disaster. Before long a conspiracy was hatched by a group of nobles to remove James. Led by Sir Robert Graham of Kinpunt, its aim was to place Walter, Earl of Atholl, on the throne.

The conspiracy came to fruition in February 1437 when the plotters surprised James at the lodgings he kept at a Dominican nunnery in Perth. Forced at short notice to find a hiding place, the powerfully-built king ran to a forgotten privy, tore up a plank from the wooden floor, and concealed himself and a loyal lady in waiting in the sewer below. Here again there are signs that the chronicler who wrote up James’s death used his narrative to make a few pointed comments about the king. The privy, we are told, had drained into an adjacent real tennis court often used by James, and it is added that he had become fed up of losing balls in the pipe that voided it. Shortly before his death, James had therefore had this drain stopped up; had he left it, Shirley says, he would have found it a simple matter to have escaped from the privy-hole that in fact trapped him in a stinking prison.

Thanks to his rashness, the king’s only hope was that his would-be assassins would not discover him, but once they had gained access to the privy (using ‘saws, levers and axes’), the lose plank in the floor was quickly noticed and lifted to reveal James amid the filth below. According to Shirley, what happened next was quite unsavoury. ‘One of the said tyrants and traitours, clepid [called] Sir John Hall, descendid down to the Kyng, with a grate knyf yn his hand;’ James fought with him and, being a powerful man, managed to ‘cast hym under his fete’ – which must mean plunged him into the accumulated excrement – ‘with full grete violence.’ A second assassin then descended into the pit, only to be seized by the neck and hurled down too, so violently that, according to the chronicler, he defowlid hem both undir hyme, that all a long moneth [month] after, men might see how strongly the king had holdyn hem by the throtes.

And gretely the king strogild with hem for to have berevyd [deprived] thame [of] thare knyvys [knives], by the which labur his handis wer all forkute [cut]. Finally, Sir Robert Graham jumped down into the void ‘with an orryble and mortelle wepin in his hande’ – no light decision, given the ease with which it would have been possible to pick up a fatal illness in the pit. Refusing James’s plea for mercy, Graham ran him through with his sword, and – the first two killers having by now freed themselves from the ordure – the king was finished off by all three men. ‘It was,’ Shirley concludes, ‘reported by true persons that saw him dead, that he had sixteen deadly wounds in his breast, withouten many and other in diverse places of his body.’ [Matheson pp.42-3] Princess Nest of Deheubarth – widely reputed to have been the most beautiful woman in all of mediaeval Europe – shares a bed with her lover, King Henry I. Portrait by a monk who had probably not seen her naked.

I cannot close this post without adding one other privy-related account of mediaeval violence, this time from twelfth century Wales – where the bewitchingly beautiful Princess Nest, daughter of Prince Rhys ap Tewdwr, attracted the attention of so many suitors (including the English king Henry I, whose son she bore) that she earned herself the soubriquet ‘The Helen of Wales.’ In 1109 the most pressing of these suitors, her cousin Owain ap Cadwgan, broke into the castle where Nest was living with her then husband, Gerald of Windsor – tradition has it that he and his men burrowed under the main gates – with the intention of kidnapping her. The quick-thinking princess managed to delay them just long enough to save Gerald, who made his escape by plunging into the pit below the castle toilet and crawling, encrusted with dung, out of a sewer and away into the night. [Maund pp.135-6] All of which proves, if it proves anything at all, that in the Middle Ages it was best never to stop up your privy-hole. Sources Alexander Bell, L’estoire des Engleis by Geffrei Gaimar.

Oxford: Blackwell, 1960. Jim Bradbury, Routledge Companion to Medieval Warfare. London: Routledge, 2004. Thomas Forester (trans. and ed.). The Chronicle of Henry of Huntingdon. London: Henry G Bohn, 1853. Warren Hollister. Henry I. New Haven [CT]: Yale University Press, 2003. MK Lawson, Cnut: The Danes in England in the Early Eleventh Century. London: Longman, 1993. Kari Maund, Princess Nest of Wales: Seductress of the English. Stroud: Tempus, 2007. Ian Mortimer, ‘A red hot poker? It was just a red herring.’ Times Higher Education Supplement, 11 April 2003. _________, ‘Sermons of sodomy: a reconsideration of the sodomitical reputation of Edward II.’ In Gwilym Dodd and Anthony Musson (eds), The Reign of Edward II: New Perspectives. Woodbridge, Suffolk: Boydell & Brewer, 2006 pp.48-60.

Mary Saaler, Edward II: 1307-1327. Norwich: Rubicon Press, 1997. Bernhard Schmeidler [ed], Gesta Hammaburgensis Ecclesiae Pontificum. Hanover: MGH Scriptores, 1917. John Shirley, ‘The Dethe of the Kynge of Scotis .’ In Lister Matheson, Death and Dissent: Two Fifteenth Century Chronicles. Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 1999. Clare Sponsler, ‘The king’s boyfriend: Froissart’s political theater of 1326.’ In Glenn Burger and Stephen Kruger (eds), Queering the Middle Ages. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2001 pp.143-67. Share this: His death in Berkeley Castle, truth, tradition, doubts His death in Berkeley Castle, truth, tradition, doubts Управление персоналом The entrance to Edoard II's prison in Berkeley Castle Many of you will have heard of how Edward II supposedly met a gruesome death in Berkeley Castle later that year.

Reports at the time indicated that his death was due to natural causes, but word soon got out that he had been murdered. As the years passed, the story of his murder was embroidered with apocryphal details, and still today the idea that he was killed by means of a red hot poker has an unshakeable place in the popular imagination. The ex-king was given a state funeral, though his features were hidden during the procession by a funeral mask, for the first time in English history. His body was buried in what is now Gloucester Cathedral, and a magnificent Gothic monument was later raised over his tomb. Since his death was announced, rumours to the effect that Edward II did not die in 1327 have always persisted. The Archbishop of York was convinced of it. Edward II’s half-brother, Edmund, Earl of Kent, became the protagonist of a failed attempt to free the King from a castle where he believed the old King was being kept prisoner in 1330. He was executed by Mortimer for his efforts. Even the Pope at the time believed that Edward II might not be dead.

But surely the most astonishing version of events is that outlined in the famous Fieschi Letter, the letter that Manuele de Fieschi addressed to Edward II’s son, Edward III.

Question: At which castle did Edward II meet his gruesome death in 1327?
Answer: Berkeley