Who—and What—were the Lords Appellant?
By Mercedes Rochelle
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Arundel, Gloucester, Nottingham, Derby, and
Warwick, Before the King Source: Wikimedia.
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When I
first bumped into the Lords Appellant I was confused because as far as I knew,
an appeal was filed after a court conviction in an attempt to reverse the
decision. But as it turns out, in the fourteenth century an appeal was the
starting point—an indictment or an accusation against someone, initiating a
legal procedure. What made the case of the Lords Appellant so special was that
this was the first time the appeal was introduced into Parliament; up until
then, it was used in common and civil courts.
When
you see the words Lords Appellant capitalized, it refers to those involved in
the first legal crisis of Richard II's reign. Their case was against Richard's
friends, counselors, and officers who were accused of giving the king bad
advice—misleading and deceiving him. Most historians agree that the Appellants
were driven by resentment, ambition, and dissatisfaction. Here they were, some
of the most powerful magnates in the realm, shut out of Richard's inner circle.
No influence with the king, no power, no opportunities to reward their
retainers—all these obstacles put them in a bad position. However, they weren't
powerful enough to go after Richard directly; there was no popular swell of
discontent as in the case of Edward II. The second best solution was to
eliminate the king's despised supporters and get him under their control.
The
only person that stood between the Appellants and the king was John of Gaunt,
the eldest surviving son of Edward III and a stickler for protocol. However, in
1386 when he sailed for Spain to pursue a crown of his own, his absence left
Richard exposed to his enemies. They immediately went on the offensive and the
young king was too inexperienced to know how to deal with them. Nonetheless,
the Lords Appellant had a problem. If they went through the courts, the rulings
wouldn't be permanent enough. The only way to completely destroy their enemies,
take away their titles, lands—even their lives—and dispossess the heirs was
through Parliament. Not only were their motives questionable, but the whole
process had no legal basis from which to act, and the Appellants were forced to
make up the rules as they went along, twisting the system to accommodate their
self-serving objectives.
The
driving force behind the Lords Appellant was Thomas of Woodstock,
1st Duke of Gloucester (the youngest son of Edward III). One would think that
the king's uncle would not be his worst enemy, but Gloucester was a bitter,
aggressive man. He reminds me of John Lackland because he, too, came out on the
losing end of land distribution after all his siblings were taken care of. He
only became duke two years before all this unpleasantness started, and even so
he was dependent on the exchequer for his revenue. If it weren't for his wife,
one of the great Bohun heiresses, he would have had nothing at all. His only
hope of prominence would have been from the French wars like his brother the
Black Prince and his father Edward III; but here, too, the king disappointed
him. There was to be no major campaigning in this reign, and Gloucester became
the spokesman for warmongers amongst his peers. As the Appellants gained the upper
hand, Gloucester even went so far as to put himself forward as a possible
replacement (after having deposed Richard), but young Henry of Bolingbroke put
an end to that scheme. There were stronger claimants to the throne, himself
included.
In
almost total accord with Gloucester, Richard FitzAlan, 11th
Earl of Arundel was a stout collaborator. He was an experienced, if
unexceptional warrior and served under John of Gaunt, mostly as admiral. Although
he won brief popularity by sharing a year's worth of wine with all of England
at rock-bottom prices (from 100 captured Flemish vessels), his brusque and
overbearing personality made him few friends. From the beginning of Richard's
reign he was on the council of regency, and in 1381 he was appointed co-councilor
in constant attendance upon the young king, ironically alongside his future
victim Michael de la Pole. Although Richard warmed up to Michael he found
Arundel detestable, which I suspect contributed to the crisis.
The
third original Appellant was Thomas de Beauchamp, 12th Earl of
Warwick. He was the son of the famous Thomas Beauchamp known for his bravery at
Crecy and Poitiers. Rather mediocre and undistinguished, Thomas never lived up
to his father's reputation. But he was, after all, a noble from a great family
and hence valuable as an ally. He pretty much went along with everything
Gloucester said and didn't rock the boat.
The three
Appellants originally appealed five of Richard's supporters: Michael de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk and chancellor
of England, Robert de Vere, Earl of
Oxford and Richard's closest friend, Robert
Tresilian, Chief Justice of the King's Bench, Sir Nicholas Brembre, wealthy London magnate and former Mayor, and Alexander Neville, Archbishop of York.
After the Lords Appellant made their formal appeal, Richard arranged for Neville,
de la Pole, and Tresilian to slip away, and secretly sent Robert de Vere to
Cheshire to raise an army to defend him. Brembre stayed put, certain of his
innocence, and sought to gain support in London for the king (he paid for that
with his life).
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Battle
of Radcot Bridge (saved from BerkshireHistory.com).
Once
the Appellants discovered that de Vere was putting together an army, the last
two "junior" members came on board. Henry of Bolingbroke, Earl of
Derby (son of John of Gaunt and the future Henry IV) posted himself at Radcot
Bridge and succeeded in blocking de Vere from crossing the Thames; the royal
army dispersed after a brief and pathetic battle and de Vere escaped over the
Channel. Why did the non-political Bolingbroke join the Appellants? He later
claimed he needed to protect this father's interests. It's also difficult to
discover the motives of Thomas
de Mowbray, Earl of Nottingham, 1st Duke of Norfolk (great-great
grandson of Edward I and son-in-law to Arundel). He could have been driven by
jealousy of Robert de Vere, who supplanted him in Richard's esteem. His early
friendship with the king had definitely cooled, especially after he married
Arundel's daughter; I imagine his father in-law put pressure on him to join the
party of resistance. These last two Appellants tended to take a back seat, so
to speak, and never wholeheartedly agreed with all the knavery that attended
these trials. Nonetheless, they were committed and so the three became five.
Beheading of Richard's Supporters from
Froissart's Chronicles, BL-Harley4380 f.
193v.
From besieging
the king in the Tower of London to the Merciless Parliament of 1388, the Lords
Appellant pursued a bloody campaign against the king's supporters, culminating
in the outrageous execution of Sir Simon Burley, Richard's vice-chamberlain and
lifelong mentor. (By then they had gone way beyond their initial
condemnations.) Bolingbroke and Mowbray publicly objected to Burley's
conviction, as well as the Duke of York, Gloucester's brother; even Queen Anne
got on her knees and begged Gloucester for Burley's life, to no avail. In the
end, eight of Richard's supporters were executed—for no good reason. Three more
fled to permanent exile, and over forty others were ejected from court (some
returned later as Richard took back his authority). The king was reduced to a
figurehead and withdrew to lick his wounds. For one year the three original
Appellants tried to run the government their way (Bolingbroke and Mowbray had
lost interest by then), but it soon became obvious that they were doing no
better than before. Worse, actually: it was under their watch that the
disastrous Battle of Otterburn was lost and Henry Hotspur taken prisoner along
with his brother Ralph. Their ransom was a huge hit to the already depleted
exchequer, which had been obliged to pay the Lords Appellant 20,000 pounds to
reimburse them “for their great expenses in procuring the salvation of the
realm and the destruction of the traitors”.
When
Richard declared his majority in 1389, he was able to take over and dismiss his
enemies without a protest. But, though Richard was obliged to "forgive and
forget" on the surface, in reality his anger festered for ten years until
he was strong enough to wreak revenge on the men who humiliated him. You can
read all about the Lords Appellant and the Merciless Parliament in A KING UNDER
SIEGE, Part One of The Plantagenet Legacy.
A King Under Siege
Book 1 of The Plantagenet Legacy
By Mercedes
Rochelle
Richard
II found himself under siege not once, but twice in his minority. Crowned king
at age ten, he was only fourteen when the Peasants' Revolt terrorized London.
But he proved himself every bit the Plantagenet successor, facing Wat Tyler and
the rebels when all seemed lost. Alas, his triumph was short-lived, and for the
next ten years he struggled to assert himself against his uncles and
increasingly hostile nobles. Just like in the days of his great-grandfather
Edward II, vengeful magnates strove to separate him from his friends and
advisors, and even threatened to depose him if he refused to do their bidding.
The Lords Appellant, as they came to be known, purged the royal household with
the help of the Merciless Parliament. They murdered his closest allies, leaving
the King alone and defenseless; he would never forget his humiliation at the
hands of his subjects. Richard's inability to protect his adherents would haunt
him for the rest of his life, and he vowed that next time, retribution would be
his.
Excerpt
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But this wasn't
the end of the matter. For three weeks the King refused to sign Burley's death
warrant. In the meantime, controversy continued to go back and forth between
the Commons and the Lords—all the Lords favoring Burley, that is. By now the
discussions were about sparing the life of the accused. The Commons clamored
for the death of Burley, deaf to any arguments which were uttered by those of
all ranks, from the Duke of York all the way down to Richard's household
clerks, willing to risk their necks to put in a good word for the
vice-chamberlain.
Finally, after
much hesitation, Henry Bolingbroke stood—to the amazement of the King and the
wrath of Gloucester. After a moment, Mowbray stood with him. "My
lords," Henry said, "I am of the opinion that Sir Simon Burley does
not deserve the death penalty. By all means, remove him from the offices he now
occupies. But do not debase yourself by this disgraceful verdict which reeks of
partisanship." The last words had to come out at a shout, for before he
had finished the members started hooting and booing at him. For some minutes he
continued to holler at the crowd before giving up and sitting back down. He
ignored Gloucester's furious glare.
The next
morning, when the Appellants were sitting in the judges' chamber awaiting the
beginning of Parliament, Gloucester couldn't restrain himself. "I cannot
believe what you did," he spat at Bolingbroke who sat at the other end of
the table. "You could have ruined everything we have worked for."
Henry casually
picked an apple from a bowl. "Everything you have worked for. It would not be a great exaggeration to say I
do not agree with your policy of extermination."
Gloucester
stood, leaning over the table. "Don't you understand? If we let them
live—even one of them—they will come back and destroy us!"
"Sit down
uncle, please. If we pull their teeth, they cannot bite." Just to
emphasize his statement, he took a bite out of the apple.
"As long
as Richard lives, we are not safe unless we render him powerless."
"And thus
we should prove ourselves more disgraceful, more ignoble than the King could
ever be. No, my Lord, I do not fancy such a reputation."
"Henry,
you are committed to this course of action. As are we all."
An
uncomfortable pall fell over the room; they jumped when the door flew open and
the queen entered, holding up the edge of her mantle. Richard was right behind
her. Guiltily, the men stood. She gestured for them to sit. "No, my lords.
It is I who must kneel to you." To their great dismay, Queen Anne fell to
her knees before Gloucester. "My Lord, I beg you, with all my heart, to
spare the life of Sir Simon Burley. Do not impose this terrible penalty."
Richard moved
over to the fireplace, leaning against the mantle in disgust. He was clearly
against this show of humility. But Anne didn't care. This was all her idea.
"Simon
Burley was the man who brought me to England when I was just a frightened girl.
He has been my staunch ally and my dearest friend. Please, I beg you. Do not
take him from me." A tear ran down her cheek.
After his first
astonishment, Gloucester turned away. She grabbed his hand, putting it against
her wet face. "He is not the traitor you accuse him to be. He is loyal,
and true. See how the King mourns." She kissed his hand, but he carefully
withdrew it, trying not to insult her.
"Take
pity, Lord Thomas. I beg you not to do this thing."
How Gloucester
endured this woeful behavior was more than anyone in the room could fathom. The
chroniclers were to state that she spent three hours on her knees, but how
could that be possible? It was certainly long enough to be remembered
throughout history, much to his discredit. After an uncomfortably long
demonstration of her abject humiliation, he finally reached his limit.
"You had best save your prayers for your husband," he said roughly,
"for he stands in great need of them."
Stung by this
remark, Richard came over and lifted the sobbing queen into his arms.
"Have you no shame?" he retorted.
Still sitting,
Gloucester turned to the King. "I will tell you this one last time. If you
do not sign the warrants, you will face the same fate as Edward II. Do not take
my warning lightly."
Richard looked
in panic at Bolingbroke but his cousin was studying his fingernails. Why
wouldn't he? Henry had nothing to gain from helping his beleaguered king.
Silently
cursing his opponents, Richard whispered in Anne's ear. "Come from this
terrible place."
The Coffee Pot Book Club
★★★★★
Highly Recommended
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Pick
up your copy of
A King Under Siege
Mercedes Rochelle
Born in St. Louis MO with a degree from University of Missouri, Mercedes Rochelle learned about living history as a re-enactor and has been enamored with historical fiction ever since. A move to New York to do research and two careers ensued, but writing fiction remains her primary vocation. She lives in Sergeantsville, NJ with her husband in a log home they had built themselves.
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