The Final Tragic years of Joan of Kent: a memorable medieval woman.

by Anne O'Brien

Born in September 1328, Joan of Kent -- the above image is named as Joan, but is not an accurate representation of her -- was one of the most colourful figures of the 14th century. Her marital escapades with Thomas Holand, Earl of Kent, and William Montecute, Earl of Salisbury, have been much written about, followed by her apparent love match with Edward, the Black Prince, against the wishes of both King Edward III and Queen Philippa who doubtless looked askance at her reputation. She -- the much praised and admired Fair Maid of Kent -- was described as the most beautiful woman in England and appeared in legend as the woman whose garter exercised such a powerful attraction for King Edward. Knights jousted for her favours. This is a splendid 19th Century image of how history has portrayed her.

But what about her later years? What do we know of those? Joan was widowed in 1376 when Prince Edward finally succumbed to the appalling symptoms that had afflicted him for a number of years and prevented him from continuing his military career in Aquitaine. From that moment she devoted herself to her son Richard's care and upbringing, showing considerable political acumen, but I doubt that her later life was one of contentment or happiness for her.

We hear of her in terrible days of the Peasant's Revolt in 1381, when she was not short of courage, riding out at Richard's side to meet the rebels at Mile End.

The jeering crowds however grew too much for her so that she was escorted back to the Tower, but there she was accosted by the rebels when they forced the gates. Joan was roughly kissed and manhandled and although not harmed, still causing her to fall into a faint. Fortunately she was able to escape by river into the city where she took refuge. Some were not so fortunate, such as the Archbishop and the Chancellor, captured and executed.

In the following years, although so overweight that she could barely stand, Joan was diligent in acting in the interests of Richard, being influential in his choice of Anne of Bohemia as his bride, and in the subsequent negotiations. 

Perhaps more importantly she was a strong supporter of John of Gaunt, acting as a successful mediator to prevent a total breakdown in relations between Richard and his powerful uncle. Joan saw that Gaunt's influence over Richard was far preferable to that of Robert de Vere, Earl of Oxford. In 1384 Joan, fearing for Richard when he plotted with de Vere to have Gaunt murdered, Joan faced Richard and demanded that he make efforts to restore himself to Gaunt's favour. With some success on this occasion, Gaunt and Richard were reconciled.

The magnificent contemporary portrait of Richard in Westminster Abbey.

But success for Joan was not always possible when persuading Richard to take a diplomatic line. Joan died on 8th August, 1385 at Wallingford Castle after a particularly tragic family confrontation. This was the dispute between her two sons, Richard and Sir John Holand, Earl of Exeter, when Holand, for revenge in a personal quarrel, killed Ralph Stafford, a royal favourite, particularly with the Queen. Richard demanded that his brother John face the full penalty of the law, which was death. Joan sent messengers, begging for mercy but Richard refused any intercession from his mother. 

Joan collapsed, plunged into grief at the expectation of John's imminent death, and died within the week at the age of 57 years. Richard did ultimately pardon John, sending him on pilgrimage to the Jerusalem instead of suffering the penalty for murder, but the pardon was not given in time for his mother to rejoice. She died believing that one son would be responsible for the death of another. I wonder what she made of her family? I can only imagine her despair. What heart break she must have suffered at the end.

Joan remembered Richard in her will with fondness, describing him as her very dear son, but she chose not to be buried with his father, the Black Prince, but with Thomas Holand, the father of her other children, at Greyfriars, in Stamford, Lincolnshire. Perhaps this is where her heart always remained.  Below is the tomb of the Black Prince in Canterbury Cathedral. 

As a Postscript: how fortunate Joan was to die before the terrible year of 1400, when she would have been 72 years old (so it might have been possible). If she had lived she would have had to witness the violent destruction of some key elements in her family. 

Her son Thomas Holand, Earl of Kent, was already dead from natural causes in 1397. 

In the overthrow of Richard in 1399, her son John Holand, Duke of Exeter switched sides, thus betraying his half brother King Richard in favour of Henry Bolingbroke, even going so far as to officiate at Henry's coronation as King Henry IV. Here he is, shown in what Joan must have thought of as an act of treason, negotiating with Henry against Richard.

In 1400, after switching back again, John Holand was executed at the behest of the mob in Essex at Pleshey Castle, after the abject failure of the Revolt of the Earls to dethrone Henry IV and release Richard from captivity. 

Joan's grandson, Thomas Holand, Duke of Surrey, was executed in Cirencester in the aftermath of the same rebellion, his head sent to Henry IV in a basket with that of the Earl of Salisbury. 

And finally, of course, her son King Richard II, dethroned, imprisoned and murdered at Pontefract Castle in 1400. 

At least Joan was spared all knowledge of these terrible events that set brother against brother and destroyed much of her family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

To keep in touch with my new novel for 2014, The Scandalous Duchess, the ever-green love story of Dame Katherine de Swynford and John, Duke of Lancaster, do visit my website.

www.anneobrienbooks.com

How Joan of Kent Became Princess of Wales

by Rosanne E. Lortz

Edward, the Black Prince, and Joan of Kent: a pair of star cross’d lovers that eventually came together in one of history’s true love matches. It took three marriages and over thirty years before Joan finally became the Princess of Wales, but if the chroniclers are to be believed, it was worth the wait.

Seal of Edward II

Joan, who later became known as “The Fair Maid of Kent,” was the daughter of Edmund of Woodstock, half brother to King Edward II of England. Edmund supported the king in the bitter battle against his wife Queen Isabella, pejoratively known as the “she-wolf of France.” When Isabella and her lover Roger Mortimer triumphed, Edward II was deposed, placed in prison, and later murdered. Edmund Woodstock, for the crime of remaining loyal to his brother, was sentenced to death for treason in 1330. As the story goes, Edmund had to wait nearly half a day for the authorities to find an executioner willing to do the deed since no one wanted to be responsible for his unjust death. Edmund of Woodstock was survived by his wife and four children. Joan, the third of Edmund’s progeny, was a little less than two years old at the time.

Young Edward III had been placed on the throne by Isabella and Mortimer, but he was more filial to his father’s memory than his mother’s commands. When he came of age, he organized a coup to remove the adulterous pair from power. Mortimer he executed, Isabella he imprisoned, and in a kindly gesture, he took Edmund Woodstock’s widow and her brood into his household to be provided for.

Edward III and the Black Prince

As these events were transpiring, Edward III’s wife Philippa gave birth to their oldest son, another Edward, to whom history would give the appellation, the “Black Prince of Wales.” This Prince Edward and his cousin  Joan were raised in close proximity to each other, and later events indicate that they grew to be fast friends. A marriage between the two was never considered, at least not by the one person who mattered. King Edward III was determined to secure for his eldest son a matrimonial alliance that would benefit the country of England. During the Black Prince’s early years, his father attempted at various times to betroth him to the daughter of the French king, the daughter of the Duke of Brabant, and a Portuguese princess. None of these marriage alliances materialized, however, and the prince was destined to remain a bachelor until the age of thirty, winning great glory on the battlefields of Crecy and Poitiers.

Joan, on the other hand, was in the unenviable position of having too many marriages materialize. When she was twelve years of age (fifteen or sixteen, according to other sources), she contracted a secret marriage with Thomas Holland, a man twice her age and seneschal to the house of Salisbury. Her royal family, it is certain, knew nothing of this marriage to Holland, for a few years later they betrothed her to William Montacute, the Earl of Salisbury. What happened next is unclear, whether Joan actually did go through with the marriage to Salisbury or whether the news of her earlier marriage came out first and prevented the ceremony. Holland, it is thought, must have been overseas at the time or he would have spoken up to prevent the polyandrous relationship. One fact at least is certain: there were now two Englishmen claiming Joan of Kent as their wife.

Joan’s opinion on the matter was that her first marriage to Thomas Holland was binding and ought to be recognized. But Joan’s opinion was also of little consequence. One story, perhaps apocryphal, describes the Earl of Salisbury locking the lady up in a tower and refusing to let her go to her first husband. An appeal was sent to the pope asking him to rule on the situation. Even though it had been undertaken without her guardians’ permission, Pope Clement VI decided in favor of the first marriage, and Joan took her place in Holland’s home as his wife.

Joan’s marriage to Thomas Holland produced two sons and two daughters. Her oldest son, Thomas, was privileged to have the Black Prince stand godfather to him at his baptism, a sign of the mutual regard between his mother and her cousin Edward. Holland, although his first appearance on the scene was as a lowly seneschal, rose swiftly in the world. He became Earl of Kent in right of his wife, and shortly before his death in 1360 was named captain-general of all of England’s holdings on the continent.

At Holland’s death, Joan—fabulously wealthy, still young, and still beautiful—was the most eligible widow in all of England. A French chronicler tells how many of the English lords sought her hand in marriage, asking the Black Prince to be the go-between and make the match. Here is historian Henry Dwight Sedgwick’s delightful summary of the story:

The widow, as I say, was a great catch, and, as in those martial days there was little time for the more delicate hesitations and diffidences of life, suitors very soon gathered round. Many gentlemen, knowing that she and the Prince were not only cousins but good friends, went to him and asked him to say a few words to her in their favor. The most importunate of these was Lord Brocas, a very gallant nobleman of high rank, who had served the Prince well both in war and peace. The Prince, accordingly, accepted the commission and went to see the Countess of Kent several times on the suitor’s behalf. The chronicler states that he went very willingly; for which, apart from the commission, there were reasons enough. First, she was his cousin; second, he took notice of her very great beauty and of her gracious manner that pleased him wonderfully well; and third, the time passed agreeably.  

On one occasion, when the Prince was speaking to her of the said gentleman, she answered that she should never marry again. She was moult soubtille et sage and repeated this to the Prince several times. The Prince replied, “Heigh ho! Belle Cousine, in case you do not wise to marry any of my friends, the great beauties, of which you are compact, will be wasted. If you and I were not of common kin, there is no lady under heaven whom I should hold so dear as you.” And the Prince was taken unawares by love for the Countess. And then, like the subtle woman, and skillful in ambush, that she was, the Countess began to cry. Then the Prince tried to comort her; he kissed her very often, and felt great tenderness for her tears, and said to her: “Belle Cousine, I have a message for you from one of the gallant gentlemen of England, and he is besides a very charming man.” The Countess answered, still weeping: “Ah, Sire, for God’s sake forbear to speak of such things to me. I have made up my mind not to marry again; for I have given my heart to the most gallant gentleman under the firmament, and for love of him, I shall have no husband but God, so long as I live. It is impossible that I should marry him. So, for love of him, I wish to shun the company of men. I am resolved never to marry.”  

The Prince was very desirous to know who was the most gallant gentleman in the world, and begged the Countess insistently to tell him who it was. But the Countess the more she saw his eagerness, the more she besought him not to inquire further; and, falling on her knees, said to him: “My very dear Lord, for God’s sake, and for His mother’s, the sweet Virgin, please forbear.” The Prince answered that, if she did not tell him who was the most gallant gentleman in the world, he would be her deadly enemy. Then the Lady said to him: “Very dear and redoubtable Lord, it is you, and for love of you no gentleman shall lie beside me.” The Prince, who was then all on fire with love for her, said: “Lady, I swear to God, that as long as I live, no other woman shall be my wife.” And soon they were betrothed.

A less colorful, and probably less embroidered version of the story is given in the Life of the Black Prince written by Chandos Herald:

The prince, very soon after this [the Treaty of Bretigny in 1360], married a lady of great worth, with whom he had fallen in love, who was beautiful, pleasing and wise. He did not wait long after his marriage before going to Gascony to take possession of his lands. The prince took his wife with him, whom he loved greatly. 

Because the two were closely related, they needed to receive a dispensation from the pope allowing the marriage. They had no trouble obtaining it. The historian Richard Barber writes: “Innocent VI, like all the Avignon popes, favoured the French cause, and the prince’s proposed marriage eliminated an important diplomatic weapon for the English.” The French wanted nothing better than to see Edward III’s son make a politically useless marriage.

But although an alliance with Joan offered no political advantage, the prince never appeared to regret his choice. Seven years later, the romance was still alive, as evidenced by a letter written to Joan after the Battle of Najera. The prince’s salutation reads: “My dearest and truest sweetheart and beloved companion.”

Although sickness and time would harden the prince’s character, making him capable of committing the massacre at Limoges in 1370, we never hear of anything but felicity betwixt him and Joan. Together Edward and Joan had two sons, the youngest of whom would become Richard II of England.

Edward died in 1376 at the age of 45. He had instructed that his body be laid to rest in the crypt of Canterbury Cathedral, in the Chapel of Our Lady with a space nearby for his dear wife. He even had carvings of her face added to the ceiling there. The crypt, however, was not deemed worthy enough, and so his body was moved upstairs to be placed by the shrine of the famous Saint Thomas Becket. Joan lived nine years longer to see the accession of her son to the throne, the rise of the Lollards, and the Peasants’ Revolt. When she died, her body was laid to rest in Lincolnshire beside the tomb of Thomas Holland, her first husband. And so, despite the prince’s dearest wishes, in the end he and his “beloved companion” were separated.

As wife to Edward, the Black Prince, Joan became history’s first English Princess of Wales. But there was more to remember about Joan than just her title. She was, in the words of the chronicler Froissart, “la plus belle de tout le royaume d’Engleterre et la plus amoureuse – the most beautiful woman in all the realm of England, and the most loving.” Or to use Henry Dwight Sedgwick’s translation: “the prettiest girl and greatest coquette in England.”

_____________________

Rosanne E. Lortz is the author of I Serve: A Novel of the Black Prince. Set against the turbulent backdrop of the Hundred Years' War, I Serve chronicles the story of Sir John Potenhale. A young Englishman of lowly birth, Potenhale wins his way to knighthood on the fields of France. He enters the service of Edward, the Black Prince of Wales, and immerses himself in a stormy world of war, politics, and romantic intrigue. Joan of Kent appears as a supporting character in the novel as Sir John Potenhale serves as the go-between to carry secret messages between his master the Black Prince and the lady he is forbidden to love.

You can learn more about Rosanne's books at her Official Author Website where she also blogs about writing, mothering, and things historical.

_____________________

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Barber, Richard. Edward, Prince of Wales and Aquitaine: A Biography of the Black Prince. Great Britain: The Boydell Press, 1978.

_______, trans. and ed. The Life and Campaigns of the Black Prince: from contemporary letters, diaries and chronicles, including Chandos Herald’s Life of the Black Prince. Great Britain: The 

Boydell Press, 1979.

Froissart, Jean. Chronicles. Translated and edited by Geoffrey Brereton. London: Penguin Books, 1978.

Sedgwick, Henry Dwight. The Black Prince. New York: Barnes and Noble Books, 1993.