Ten

King of Castile and Leon

‘Then they shook out the bridle rein further to ride afar.

They had the crow on their right hand as they issued from Bivar;

And as they entered Burgos upon their left it sped.

And the Cid shrugged his shoulders, and the Cid shook his head:

“Good tidings Alvar Fanez We are banished from our weal,

But on a day with honor shall we come unto Castile.” ’

Cantar del Mio Cid

An imposing fleet of ships hovered on the edge of the horizon as the sun rose off the coast of Galicia, a mountainous terrain in the north-west of Spain. Corunna was the main coastal port, usually quiet except for fishing vessels and local traffic. The only foreign vessels that regularly docked in the harbour were those carrying pilgrims, intent on visiting nearby Santiago de Compostela – the jewel of Spain and holy resting place of the Apostle St James. As the fleet approached, it became clear that the ships floating closer to the port were not domestic galleys, but belonged to the enemies of Spain: Portugal and England. On board was the pretender to the Castilian throne, the Duke of Lancaster.

Galicia was, strategically, a reasonable choice of landing-place. Portugal – Gaunt’s promised ally – was to the south and Castile and Leon lay to the east. Equally, the Galicians were traditionally loyal to the late King Pedro’s cause and were more likely to support Gaunt with Pedro’s daughter Constance at his side. The fleet dropped anchor on 25 July and began the massive task of disembarking Gaunt’s army, retinue, horses and supplies. The date of landing was no coincidence. Galicians were celebrating the feast of St James, leaving the port unguarded and allowing the English to land without having to face a hostile reception. Equally, Gaunt’s landing, neatly coinciding with the holy day, was meant as a sign – he was the rightful King of Castile.

Corunna’s port was soon overrun with Englishmen. Goldsmiths, painters, embroiderers, cooks, minstrels and chaplains all disembarked, as well as Gaunt’s wife, three daughters and their ladies. Men and boys who had sought opportunity in Gaunt’s venture eagerly took stock of the expansive mountainous landscape. These boys had been granted an early chance to cut their teeth at war, likely as squires. Three young men – probably in their teens or younger – stepped from the galleys that day. Ralph Bulmere, a young man who was just old enough to receive his inheritance at home, Baldwin Saint George from Essex and Thomas Chaucer, the son of writer and diplomat Geoffrey Chaucer.¹ Gaunt was also accompanied by some of his most trusted men, Juan Gutierrez and Richard Burley, who had fought alongside him at Najéra and who he appointed marshal of this army. Thomas Morieux, a Norfolk landowner and Gaunt’s son-in-law by his first (illegitimate) daughter, Blanche, accompanied him to Spain, as did Sir Thomas Percy, the keeper of Roxburgh Castle, who brought with him over 200 men.²

John of Gaunt commanded loyalty. He cared for his men and rewarded those who served him well. From the outset, he was careful with the financial management of the campaign, forfeiting his own benefits to secure the fidelity of his men. In a letter to Thomas Percy during the preparations for the voyage to Castile, Gaunt requested that Percy pay his own expenses, and those of his men. In return for this awkward request, Gaunt would relinquish any profit from the war – such as loot, or prisoners – which had the potential to amount to a significant sum.³ This was all he could offer, but Percy dutifully agreed to the Duke’s request.

In light of the Earl of Cambridge’s experience in Castile in 1381 – having relied on the Portuguese to supply horses only to be woefully let down – Gaunt prepared mounts from England, ensuring his men would not be left stranded or at the whim of an ally. Gaunt had an impressive army of around 7,000 men at arms, who before long were arrayed outside the weakly defended crenelated fortress of Corunna.⁴ Citizens cowering behind the walls had not prepared for an attack. Apart from a few competent soldiers, they were defenceless and had no choice other than to surrender quickly. John of Gaunt was consistently courteous to the locals, and at no stage during his invasion of Castile did he intend to launch a ruthless attack on civilians. His men were ordered to show clemency and Gaunt took the town with the agreement that, if he could conquer all Spain, the citizens of Corunna would welcome him as their King. Shortly after Gaunt’s army occupied the town, his flags were hoisted above the turrets, emblazoned with the castles and lions of Castile and quartered with the arms of England and France, marking his first victory.

Relations between the soldiers and the inhabitants were initially amicable. Gaunt allowed his men to purchase goods from the town’s people, expressly forbidding them to pay a lower-than-asking price or use force to guarantee a better deal. Raiding, rape and any other form of violence was expressly forbidden on pain of severe punishment.

Gaunt’s stay at Corunna was short. The town was small and was useful only as a temporary base to disembark and rest before marching forward. He left behind a small contingent of troops as a garrison and assembled his army to move south, to the sacred town of Santiago de Compostela. At around forty miles inland from Corunna, the march would take less than two days. The army and its retinue, including Constance and her ladies, embarked on the hot journey to Santiago, which may have been particularly uncomfortable for the Duchess, as the chronicler of St Denys suggests that she was pregnant during the invasion of Castile. By 1386, John and Constance had only one surviving child, Catherine of Lancaster, who accompanied them on this expedition, aged fourteen. It was certainly in the couple’s interest to produce another heir for the throne of Castile – preferably a boy – so it is possible that Constance was pregnant, but there is no further suggestion of her condition and no baby born in Spain subsequently survived.

Santiago de Compostela was a small, walled city, with the cathedral at its centre. Largely unfortified and unprotected, the clergy and the citizens of the town had little choice other than to accept the English army on the same terms as Corunna – that Gaunt, in turn, would protect the city and its people. Crowds gathered as John of Gaunt and Constance were ceremonially handed the keys to the city and accompanied through the vast doors of the imposing cathedral – the beating heart of the town. By conquering Santiago de Compostela, Gaunt made a clear and powerful statement that he was the rightful King of Castile, which his father Edward III had tried, and failed, to do when besieging France’s holy city of Reims in 1360. Gaunt was aware of the potential weight of such an achievement, for if he could be accepted as King in Spain’s holy city, then the rest of the country was more likely to accede to his claim. In Galicia, this proved to be the case and people from surrounding towns and villages flocked to Santiago de Compostela to kiss the ringed fingers of the true King of Castile. Gaunt demonstrated his crusading intentions to the Pope in Rome by ousting the Clementist Bishop of Santiago de Compostela and installing an Urbanist in his place. This action would have stung the Castilian royalty even more as the deposed Bishop was also Juan Trastámara’s Chancellor.

Despite the religious prestige of Santiago de Compostela, Gaunt needed a suitable fortress to contain his army and serve as a base for further conquest. A natural choice for such a garrison was Orense, a well-fortified city only a day’s march away, surrounded by the River Mino and conveniently close to the Portuguese border. The high walls that made it appealing to Gaunt had to be breached for it to come under English occupation. The resistance from the Galicians was brave, but Gaunt incentivised his men to fight hard against the defenders of the town, promising generous rewards. Against the might of Gaunt’s besieging army, the citizens of Orense could not hold out for long and the English invaders were admitted into the town. Orense was quickly established as Gaunt’s powerbase in Galicia and he set about forging the fundamentals of monarchical administration, such as his own chancery. In an attempt to solidify his position as King through both money and propaganda, Gaunt had his own coins minted at Orense, fashioned from bullion he had carried across the sea from Plymouth.⁵

As John of Gaunt established himself in Orense, Juan Trastámara held court in Zamora, a large city at the centre of Castile and Leon. The invasion from Galicia caught Juan completely off guard, for he was expecting Gaunt to invade through Portugal rather than launching his own attack from the north. Following the Battle of Aljubarrota, Juan Trastámara had a depleted army of only around 2,000 fighting men, half of whom were French soldiers led by Olivier de Clisson, the now Constable of France, following the death of Bertrand du Guesclin in 1380. After a desperate plea to Charles VI, he was also promised another 2,000 men at arms, who would be assembled and led by the Duke of Bourbon. In the meantime, after a war council with Olivier de Clisson, Juan was persuaded to stay within the confines of fortresses whilst he waited for the French reinforcements. De Clisson likely warned Juan of the dangers of pitched battle, for the strong horses and longbows of the powerful English army were the cause of his father’s defeat at Najéra.

Initially, Juan Trastámara sent four emissaries to John of Gaunt, offering terms of peace if Gaunt would relinquish his claim to Castile and return to England. One of the terms was the offer of marriage between his son Enrique, the Prince of Asturias, to Catherine of Lancaster, thereby making Gaunt’s daughter Castile’s future Queen. The offer was tempting, but not enough for Gaunt to make terms and end his campaign. In hindsight, this was a chance at peace that he would have done well to accept.

With Gaunt’s rejection of his terms, Juan was forced to employ the same strategy frequently used by the French when under attack from the English. He ordered that all possible supplies be removed from the lands, crops burned, grain and livestock brought inside walled or garrisoned towns, and that all villages and towns be stripped bare, denying any opportunity for plunder. All Juan Trastámara had to do was wait for Gaunt’s campaign to unravel.

Much like previous expeditions in France, the lack of supplies became seriously problematic, as the English army needed to feed itself off the land. Orense continued to serve as a base for the army and for the Duke’s household; Constance and her ladies remained in the town whilst Gaunt continued his campaign. However, after an initially promising start to the invasion – conquering Galicia – the English were growing agitated at the lack of food and plunder.

 

The intense heat of the Spanish sun became unbearable for English soldiers who were not used to the climate. According to Jean Froissart, ‘the days grew hotter and hotter, until no one dared to go out riding after nine o’clock unless he wanted to be scorched by the sun’.⁶ When soldiers consistently began to return to the camp empty-handed, Froissart describes the complaints that began to circulate. Frustrated soldiers groaned, ‘this campaign is shaping badly, we stay too long in the same place’ for one of the main issues of contention was Gaunt’s insistence on bringing his wife and daughters with him, slowing down the march. Equally, the army knew that ‘they will defeat us without giving battle. They don’t need to fight us’. The men were so at odds with the terrain that they reminisced about France with its ‘big villages . . . cool rivers, lakes and pools, mild and palatable wines to give new strength to fighting men and that temperate climate . . . everything is different here’.⁷

Jean Froissart describes a sudden change in the mood of the camp. Frustrated soldiers became fearful as, only two months into the campaign, their comrades began to die from an unknown sickness. The epidemic spread during the hottest months of the year, killing the first few men in August. John Hawlay who came from Utterby in Lincolnshire was amongst the first wave of Gaunt’s men to die.⁸ In September it would claim another valued knight and brother-in-arms, Lord Walter Fitzwalter, who died at Orense.

Trapped in Galicia with no food and his men rapidly sickening, Gaunt was faced with two options: to sue for peace with Juan Trastámara, or to formally ally himself with the Portuguese. The Portuguese King, Joao of Avis, was eager for such an alliance. Sir William Par, an English knight, had been dispatched to Portugal to announce Gaunt’s intention to invade Castile, laying the groundwork for an alliance. Accompanied by a squire, Hugo de Hayward, William Par had successfully persuaded Joao of Avis to send six Portuguese galleys to carry Gaunt’s army over to Castile. In return, he wanted land, should Gaunt be successful.

Having already won a great victory against the Castilians at Aljubarrota, Joao had little to lose by allying himself with Gaunt, and a lot to gain. Through a dual attack on Castile, he could secure the borders of Portugal and extend its territory, as well as forge an alliance with an influential neighbour – should Gaunt be successful in taking the throne. In early November, the Duke led his already depleted army over a small bridge on the outskirts of a village called Ponte de Mouro on the Castilian-Portuguese border. He had arrived for the long-anticipated meeting with Joao of Avis to discuss the terms of an alliance against the Castilian King. The council was possibly all part of Gaunt’s grand invasion plan; his consistent proximity to Portugal throughout the duration of his campaign suggests as much, and may also account for his daughters’ presence in Spain – to secure loyalty through marriage.

Joao awaited the arrival of the Duke of Lancaster on top of a hill overlooking Ponte do Mouro, beneath an impressive canopy tent that he had claimed from the Castilian King following the Battle of Aljubarrota. He was accompanied by Constable Nun’Alvares, the leader of his army, and an impressive retinue of 500 men at arms. His intention was clearly to demonstrate his military ability. John of Gaunt was equally keen to maximise the show of power in front of the Portuguese King, bringing a large retinue carefully compiled of English and Castilian knights to present an image of the scale and variety of territory he controlled.

Underneath the grand Castilian canopy, John of Gaunt and Joao of Avis formalised their alliance and planned a major Anglo-Portuguese dual invasion of Castile. Joao promised Gaunt 5,000 men at arms that he would lead himself. In return, Gaunt would extend Portuguese territory by granting Joao land along the Castilian-Portuguese border. He also offered his daughter, Philippa, in marriage to Joao, uniting both countries in kinship as well as politics. After a bleak few months of trying to appease hungry and agitated soldiers, this alliance promised a great opportunity for John of Gaunt to resuscitate the campaign. It was decided that the second wave of his grand invasion would begin in January, and both sides celebrated the new treaty of Ponte do Mouro into the night with feasting and drinking. The New Year brought the prospect of a long-awaited victory.

Philippa of Lancaster was around twenty-six at the time of her father’s invasion of Castile. She was the daughter of John of Gaunt and his first wife, Blanche, and had grown up in the care of Katherine Swynford who was employed as her ‘maistresse’ – a governess who taught her courtly manners and prepared her for a noble marriage and the expectations that came with it. In early December, she was accompanied by her brother-in-law John Holland and her father’s most trusted knights, Thomas Percy, Richard Burley and Juan Gutierrez, to meet her future spouse in the city of Oporto, south of Ponte do Mouro.

The marriage between Philippa and Joao was a natural diplomatic arrangement that tied the two houses together in perpetuity. However, John of Gaunt had not considered his future son-in-law’s previous role as a Grand Master in the House of Avis – a holy order that required a vow of chastity. Joao had been initiated into the Order at the age of six, precipitating years of military and religious education. The Portuguese King had spent his life so far in martial commitment to God: he was bound to the authority of the Church. As John of Gaunt proffered his campaign as an Urbanist crusade, he was forced to comply with Church regulations and formalities and appeal for an urgent dispensation to formalise the agreement. Gaunt anxiously waited in Oporto for news from the Pope in Rome, sanctioning the marriage. It is surprising that he had not expected the delay, considering that the King’s holy vows were no secret, but it sent him into a rage; it is possible that Joao had not relayed the crucial celibacy detail before tempting Gaunt into an alliance at Ponte do Mouro with no marriage to bind it. The delay over the dispensation dragged on for two months before the wedding finally took place. With his plans for a swift attack on Castile thwarted due to Joao’s vow of chastity, John of Gaunt remained in a furious mood.

As the army waited in Oporto they grew restless, upsetting the townspeople, looting and causing anarchy in the locality. Relations had started cordially, but over the winter months they soured, resulting in the vengeful murder of some English soldiers. As the local people turned on them, infection also rapidly spread through the camp as soldiers remained sedentary, waiting to move into Castile. The Papal dispensation had still failed to arrive, and cold and damp spread through the camp carrying a sickness with it – possibly plague.

Finally, after weeks of antagonism, the marriage between Philippa of Lancaster and Joao of Avis took place in February, probably at Gaunt’s insistence, even though the pair had not received an official sanction from the Pope. Notably, John of Gaunt did not attend the wedding. Gaunt’s absence was either due to his own sickness – contracted in the infectious camp – or anger over the delay to the invasion, having placed his bets on the Portuguese King to achieve his greatest ambition.

By the end of February, Philippa of Lancaster – the new Queen of Portugal – and her ladies were on the road with King Joao, John of Gaunt, and the Anglo-Portuguese army, eagerly pushing forward into Castile. However keen Gaunt was for the invasion, it soon became clear that his influence and standing did not extend beyond his own men. In an awkward exchange between Joao, Gaunt and the Constable of the Portuguese army – Nun’Alvarez – Gaunt was informed that he had been demoted. Prior to the expedition, Gaunt had assumed that he would lead the vanguard, as he had at the Battle of Najéra. However, Nun’Alvarez would not allow it and demanded the position for himself, leading his own troops. Joao – uncomfortably placed in the middle of two leaders at loggerheads – respectfully apologised to his father-in-law but did little to alter the situation. This slight was a clear indication that control of the invasion lay in the hands of Joao and his Portuguese army, not with the English. Gaunt’s promising alliance had in fact compromised his own influence.

In Castile, people and supplies were still locked behind the fortresses peppered throughout the country. French reinforcements had not arrived, and Juan Trastámara faced an intimidating Anglo-Portuguese fighting force. Nervous that John of Gaunt was a potentially acceptable candidate for King, Juan panicked. He spread lies around the country, pushing for national resistance against the invasion. He insisted that John of Gaunt was a dangerous usurper who would destroy Castile and had already sacrificed the country by offering a portion of it to the Moors of Grenada, if they would fight for his cause. In case this did not provide sufficient deterrent, Juan also turned on his people, threatening punishment should they support the Duke of Lancaster. Personal letters were opened and read in case they contained seditious content and he threatened torture for those who spoke out against the existing government. Even if Castilians had warmed to the idea of an English King, they were likely too scared to surrender their towns for fear of the consequences. As the Anglo-Portuguese troops moved into Castile, Juan imposed a tax on his people to pay for emergency mercenary troops and waited for the promised French army to arrive. With an inferior force to hand, Juan Trastámara again employed French tactics: he went to ground.

 

Garrisons heaved with Spanish and French troops, who were stationed in Castile to support Juan. They were ordered to avoid battle and secure their defences. The challenging objective for the invading army was to reach Leon, forcing them almost 300 miles across Castile, past a series of garrisons that were opportune targets for conquest and plunder. Benevente, a Castilian garrison which lay on the south approach to Leon, was one of the first that the army attempted to besiege. Its approach was slow, hindered by the train of women that accompanied the army, including both Gaunt and Joao’s respective wives, Constance and Philippa, and their multiple ladies.

With no siege engines, an attack on the walls of the Benevente garrison – the largest in Castile – was ambitious. Gaunt and Joao made camp outside the town, out of range of the bowmen who lurked on top of the high walls, scanning for targets below. However, Benevente was also occupied by French soldiers and it was here that the English and French began to fraternise for the first – but not the last – time during the invasion. Many who served Gaunt in Spain were seasoned soldiers, having experienced campaigns in France. When they appeared outside the walls of Benevente, some of the French soldiers recognised the men and called out to them. In a display of traditional chivalrous sport, French and English troops arranged jousts and tilts, leaving the Portuguese to look on in disbelief, and initiating a wave of scepticism over the loyalty of Gaunt’s men and even Gaunt’s intentions in Castile, insulting the loyalty of the Portuguese.

The army was unable to take Benevente and moved on to try its luck in smaller towns such as Valderas, where the townspeople manned the defences. Under pressure from the huge Anglo-Castilian force, they soon surrendered, but not before destroying the town’s supplies. Joao – probably aware of Gaunt’s bruised ego and dwindling respect amongst the Portuguese troops – suggested that the Duke’s banners be flown over the town, marking it as his possession. Despite the Valderans’ attempt to thwart the pillaging of their town, there were still ample pickings for hungry soldiers, which caused a rift between the men so furious that it caught the attention of both Gaunt and Joao. As the army entered the town, Portuguese and English began to fight over the potential booty, until it was ordered that the English could plunder for the first half of the day, and the Portuguese for the second. After a few hours, Portuguese soldiers grew restless and stormed the town anyway, leading to further skirmishes between the men, until Joao galloped into the town and drew his sword against his disobedient soldiers, ordering them to desist.

The good relationship between the English and the Portuguese had, by now, completely disintegrated. There was more friction between Gaunt and Joao’s men than there was action against the Castilian enemy, and the animosity was jeopardising the campaign. The French and Castilians remained garrisoned, and as Olivier de Clisson had predicted, and Juan Trastámara had hoped, the enemy army began to unravel. In a bold attempt to draw the Castilian forces from behind their walls, Nun’Alvarez led a large contingent of troops to Villalpando, a garrison directly south of Leon that was controlled by Olivier de Clisson and his men. According to Jean Froissart the French were impatient for action and, despite their orders, took their mounts outside the castle to face the enemy. Nun’Alvares led his men into battle formation outside the castle, waiting for the French to retaliate. Froissart describes a charge between the two sides resulting in injured men, but it had to cease due to the amount of dust stirred up from the dry Spanish ground under the horses’ hooves. However, Ayala suggests otherwise, that the French saw the size of the army that stood before them, arrayed for battle, and immediately retreated. This minor skirmish was the closest that the Anglo-Portuguese force came to pitched battle against the Castilian-French army.

The sun burned the earth in Spain at the hottest part of the day and the horses – weak and parched – mauled the hard, dry ground for want of grass. As spring moved towards summer at the camp in Villalpando, the men suffered in the growing sticky heat. Sweating and lethargic, soldiers picked grapes for moisture and drank heavy Portuguese wine out of desperate thirst. The more they drank, the drunker and more dehydrated they became, stripping off their clothes to try to stay cool. Froissart describes the temperature dropping dramatically overnight and the hot, drunken soldiers freezing in the cold night air, for ‘the more they drank, the hotter they became, for the wine burnt their livers and lungs and all the entrails of the stomachs . . . then came the morning chill which struck through their whole bodies, giving them sickness and fever and afflicting them with flux [dysentery]’. Such fluctuations of temperature, the malnourishment and dehydration – both from the wine and the agonising bouts of dysentery – led to more deaths in the camp and the spread of further disease.

It was in this wave of crushing deaths that John of Gaunt lost some of his best men and with them, his morale. By the end of May, he had lost Lord Scales, Lord Poynings, Thomas Morieux (his son-in-law), his chamberlain John Marmion and, most painfully, his dearest friend and loyal marshal of his army, Simon Burley, who died at Villalpando. It was after Burley’s death that Gaunt retreated into his own company ‘weighed down with anxiety’ and took to his bed out of ‘weariness’ and ‘lay in his bed without moving’.⁹ It is very possible that the terrible outcome of Gaunt’s greatest ambition, the loss of good and loyal men, and the crushing of his morale and self-esteem sent him into a deep depression as his army made plans to desert him.

John Holland came to Gaunt as he remained in his tent during this bout of melancholy. As the Constable of Gaunt’s army, he had received numerous complaints from scared, exhausted soldiers who were furious with the Duke of Lancaster and desperate to go home. Having watched the men sicken and die, Holland informed Gaunt that his men had decided to request permission from Juan Trastámara to travel through Spain to reach Gascony and then home. Joao of Avis counselled his morose father-in-law that he had no chance of winning the war. Over the next few days, English soldiers began to desert the disease-infested camp at Villalpando, where Gaunt waited to receive word from Juan Trastámara. He was forced to come to terms not only with his failure to take Castile, but also with the massive loss of life. As soldiers packed up and left the camp, Joao angrily called them traitors and Gaunt bowed his head and wept into his horse’s mane. Disease had followed Gaunt through Spain ever since he established his camp in Galicia, and over 800 squires, archers, knights and barons perished at Villalpando. A knight named Thomas Quinebery escaped Spain and met Jean Froissart on his way home to England, depleted but grateful for his life. He informed the chronicler that Gaunt lost at least half of his army in Spain.¹⁰ Did the young squires – Ralph and Baldwin – who eagerly accompanied Gaunt to Corunna the previous summer survive the sickness? If Thomas Quinebery’s estimation is correct, then statistically it was unlikely that both returned home. Thomas Chaucer, however, made it back to England.

The remaining army withdrew, retreating to Salamanca en route to Portugal, and camping outside the city walls. Salamanca was occupied by French soldiers and, witnessing the sorry state of the English, they had cartloads of supplies delivered to the camp to feed the ravenous men. This generous offering was reciprocated with a courteous invitation to join the camp for jousting and feasting, and Renaud de Roye, an esteemed knight, brought fifty knights and squires to participate in a joust for around five days, arranged by the English.¹¹ The Portuguese were, by now, hated by both the French and the English. Although English and Portuguese soldiers fought on the same side, for the same cause, hungry Portuguese men were left out of the feasting and forced to scavenge in birds’ nests on the sides of the roads for meagre sustenance.

Salamanca was a natural base for the time being. Gaunt was determined to remain on Castilian soil while he negotiated peace terms with Juan Trastámara, but the city was close enough to Portugal to then make a relatively swift exit. John Holland had already escorted Elizabeth and her ladies, clutching letters of safe conduct from Juan Trastámara, out of Castile via the Roncevalles Pass into Gascony. They must have been relieved to be escaping from a camp that reeked of death and from Gaunt, who showed little promise of redeeming the situation.

After initially greeting the ambassadors of Juan Trastámara at the Castle of Transcoso in early June, John of Gaunt appointed Sir Thomas Percy, who had survived the sickness, and Sir John Trailly to conduct negotiations. It is notable that Gaunt was not present, perhaps out of humiliation that Juan Trastámara was equally absent, or perhaps – considering his state of mind – he was unable to conduct himself accordingly. After two days of talks the previous proposition of marriage between Asturias and Catherine of Lancaster was agreed. The couple would be granted a large endowment as well as a guarantee that they would succeed to the throne of Castile, grafting Gaunt’s bloodline onto the dynastic family tree of Spain. The wedding was agreed for the following year and would take place in the incomplete but impressive Palencia Cathedral. Gaunt was given enough gold to make him extremely wealthy for the rest of his life, doubling his current income and securing his position as the richest man in England. After Gaunt left Castile, forty-seven mules were laden with crates of gold and ‘immense riches’ were sent to Gaunt in payment for relinquishing his claim.¹² Constance’s birthright was also acknowledged and she was granted the revenues of three major Castilian cities – Medina del Campo, Guadalajara and Olmedo – as well as a generous annuity for life.¹³

Gaunt and his loyal stragglers left Salamanca for Bayonne, where they determined to stay for a period to ensure that Juan Trastámara kept his side of the agreement. Gaunt was now wealthy beyond imagination and had secured an impressive position for his youngest daughter. However, twenty years after the victory at Najéra, the glorious battle that had propelled him towards Castile, John of Gaunt wearily left Spain never to return. As a parting gesture he had a personal gift delivered to Juan Trastámara: the gleaming golden crown Gaunt had been given by Richard as he left England the year before, full of ambition and hope.