7 Places, Piety, Possessions, and Patronage
While the early chapters of this book have given us a rich understanding of the key events of Joan's life, both in terms her personal milestones and the complex political landscape of the time in which she lived, this chapter will take a completely different approach in connecting with her. Here, we will explore material culture and cultural patronage, using the documentary evidence to reconstruct the objects that Joan possessed and gifted to others and illuminate her role as a patroness, a key aspect of queenship and an important means of image creation.1 We will also examine the places that Joan inhabited, with particular focus on her major residences. Taken together, these elements will give us a much deeper understanding of her life and of Joan as an individual, helping us to reconstruct the places in which she lived and the objects around her, from the day-to-day to the cherished or ceremonial pieces. Examining gifts given to and by Joan also illuminates her relationships with her family and her network both within and beyond the realm. Her networks are further developed by discussing her patronage activities—demonstrating both her cultural impact and how this resonates with the wider traditions of her natal and marital families.
The tenancy of residences and the possessions of objects are ultimately temporary—whether Joan created or ameliorated them, she was ultimately a steward of these items of material culture and architecture. The work of queenship scholars and art historians has demonstrated how elite and royal women both created artworks and architecture and moved objects around Europe through their marriages and gifting through their familial networks.2 Some of these sites and objects survive today, from Leeds Castle in Kent, which was both part of her portfolio of properties and served as her effective prison for several years, to the Trinity Reliquary gifted to her son, which is now in the Louvre, or even her joint tomb with Henry IV, which she likely commissioned, which still stands in Canterbury Cathedral. Other examples have not stood the test of time or are now lost, like her palace at Kings Langley which suffered a disastrous fire during her later years or the breviary given to her by her aunt Blanche of Navarre, queen of France. Yet documentary evidence survives, such as testamentary evidence, expenditure on residences, and household account books, which help us understand the places she inhabited, the possessions with which she interacted, and the people she patronised.
While this chapter contains many diverse elements of her life brought together, it gives us an opportunity to build on the events, politics, and familial dynamics that we looked at in the first section of the book. It will also connect with the examination of the networks of courtiers that Joan built across borders and across the realm and our study of Joan's lands and finances in the previous chapters. Ultimately, it will give us a chance to get to know Joan the woman a bit better, as well as create a clearer picture of how she exercised the offices of duchess and queen.
This chapter will be divided into four sections which follow the major, intertwined themes of this chapter: places, piety, possessions, and patronage. We will start with an examination of places, focusing on her residences and the wide range of places that she inhabited as both duchess and queen. Some of these places were ecclesiastical spaces, which will lead us to a wider consideration of her piety, as well as her engagement with religious patronage and politics. In the possessions section, we will be thinking about the objects within them and how she acquired those objects through gift-gifting and patronage. We will finish our examination of patronage with a particular focus on her commissions of tombs—for both her husbands and for herself, reflecting on the lasting image that Joan wished to create of herself as infanta, duchess, and queen.
Places: Examining the spaces that Joan inhabited as duchess and queen
Over her long life as duchess of Brittany and then as queen of England, Joan of Navarre spent time in a wide range of palaces, castles, manors, and abbeys, in addition to maintaining a considerable portfolio of lands and residences attached to both her Breton and English dowers. This section will look at several aspects of Joan's engagement with the spaces in which she lived and worked. We will look at spaces which were renovated or built for Joan's use, such as the new apartments built for her at her second husband's favourite residence at Eltham. In addition to her use of major royal and ducal residences, we will consider her management of some of the residences which belonged to her—examining her administration, use, and renovation of these spaces, connecting to the discussion of her lands and castles in earlier chapters. Taken together, by examining both the queen's use and development of spaces and the sites she favoured for day-to-day living, we can gain a deeper understanding of how Joan of Navarre constructed, framed, and utilised space as a key element of the exercise of her office, and of her lived experience.
To begin, it is important to recognise and survey the wide range of properties that Joan both inhabited and had a connection with over the course of her life. Broadly speaking, we can group these spaces over three categories: those belonging to her husbands (Crown spaces or ducal/royal residences), those belonging to her (queenly spaces—her own residences and her Westminster “office”), and other spaces, such as ecclesiastical sites or visits to other royal/noble residences.
The most obvious spaces she inhabited were the royal and ducal residences of her two husbands, Jean IV of Brittany and Henry IV of England. As the court was itinerant, which was broadly typical in the later Middle Ages, as a consort Joan moved with her husbands, and on her own, between a selection of properties—from important palaces and castles to smaller manors and hunting lodges. As a dowager queen, the amount of time she spent at court in the major royal residences reduced, particularly after the period of “house arrest”, and the amount of time she spent at her own residences increased. It is important to acknowledge that Joan also spent time at locations which were not part of the Crown or her own portfolio, such as abbeys, and had access to spaces which were used for other purposes, such as her aforementioned office, which was previously discussed in connection with the administration of her lands.
One of the most difficult aspects of researching Joan's life has been trying to establish her itinerary from the surviving documentation. The movements of her husbands have been easier to track, particularly Henry IV, as his biographer Chris Given-Wilson has compiled a thorough itinerary. While there is evidence of Joan travelling with her husband, such as documents which demonstrate her presence in Leicester and Kenilworth with Henry IV in 1404, it should not be assumed that Joan was continually with either of her husbands.3 Indeed, documentation shows that she moved around the realm independently at times and there were periods when husband and wife were necessarily separate, such as during Henry's campaigns against rebels in the early years of their marriage. Yet, there are periods, such as key feast days and court celebrations, notably Christmas and New Year's, when we can be more certain that Joan was likely to be at her husband's side, even if her presence was not always attested to or directly traceable. From the evidence we do have and some reasonable assumptions, we know that Joan spent considerable time during her married life at the key residences of Westminster and Windsor in England and at Nantes in Brittany, which was both a ducal centre and an area which formed a key portion of her Breton dower.
Both of her husbands were keen builders or renovators of their own residences, and we know that Joan both spent time in the particular locations that her husbands favoured and benefited from the ameliorations they made to their properties to heighten their splendour and comfort. In Brittany we can see excellent examples of this at two locations on the southern side of the Breton peninsula around the gulf of Morbihan—the Château de l’Hermine in the city of Vannes and the castle of Suscinio.4 The city of Vannes played an important role in the reign of Jean IV—he began construction of the château in 1379; in addition to accommodation for the duke and the court, the city was fortified and had a substantial administrative element, including a mint and chancelry, and it frequently hosted the États de Bretagne, which testified to the use of the city as a key governmental centre.5 The château itself appears to have been fairly substantial in its medieval form, although Bertrand d’Argentré described it somewhat disparagingly as “un petit bastiment pour un prince” (“a little building for a prince”) in the sixteenth century; the modern scholar Marie Casset termed it “une vaste residence”.6 By one estimate, by the end of Jean IV's reign it could accommodate 250–300 people, including the ducal family, the court, and servants.7 The birth of some of Joan's children at Vannes and Suscinio also testifies to their importance as key ducal residences and perhaps her own desire to be there for her lying-in: her eldest son Jean V was born at Vannes on Christmas Eve 1389 and Arthur de Richemont was born in August 1393 at Suscinio.
While Vannes was a key governmental centre, Suscinio by contrast was a ducal residence where the duke, his family, and court could go to enjoy the beautiful location near the southern coast and partake in the hunting in the extensive enclosed park to the east of the château.8 It was also close to another spot with sentimental connections, the church of St Gildas de Rhuys, where the tomb of Joan's first child, Jeanne de Bretagne, was located, along with that of other “petits princes et princesses” of Brittany.9 Jean IV made substantial ameliorations to the château in the final two decades of his reign to create a very comfortable princely residence for himself and his duchess. The ducal apartments were in a large four-storey block—the ground floor was for guards and storage and the first-floor rooms contained a hall and more public spaces, with the private apartments of the duke and duchess on the higher floors. Joan's apartments were on the second floor with a bed chamber and an outer withdrawing chamber that “enjoyed a twin room steam bathing facility”.10 A stair from the duchess's chamber led directly to the duke's rooms on the third floor, ending in what appears to have been the duke's private study. The amenities at the châteaux and its decoration, including beautiful faience tiles which have recently been restored, would have made it a comfortable and impressive ducal residence.11
Joan's second husband Henry IV was also keen on improvements and ameliorations to royal residences, which may have been both connected to improving creature comforts and his wider efforts to project majesty as a usurper king. His efforts were particularly focused on Eltham, his “favourite retreat” according to his biographer Chris Given-Wilson.12 Deborah Codling has argued that Eltham gives us a window into Henry himself, as he was “creating both a public and private space there that reflected his tastes and his style of kingship”.13 Henry spent substantial amounts on renovations at Eltham, approximately £1,100 between 1399 and 1407, equal to roughly £675,000 today.14 Eltham became an important royal centre under Henry IV, as the king brought the court there two or three times a year, often for substantial periods, and it was often used for key celebrations—10 out of the 13 Christmas periods during Henry's reign were celebrated there and 3 Easter courts were held there as well.15 It was also a place with important sentimental links to the couple as their proxy marriage was celebrated there in April 1402, and Henry and Joan spent an extended period at Eltham as a sort of honeymoon after their wedding in February 1403.
Henry's development of Eltham included practical works like a new kitchen, larder, and saucer capable of providing for the court, and accommodation for courtiers including allotted rooms for key figures such as his family members the duke of York and the earl and countess of Somerset, as well as his friends Thomas Erpingham and John Norbury.16 It also had spaces for court events such as hosting tournaments and important guests like the Byzantine Emperor in 1400, as well as comforts such as gardens, “dancing chambers”, and bathhouses.17 More significantly, perhaps, he built impressive new apartments—first for himself and then, around the time of his marriage to Joan, a suite of rooms for his new queen. His own rooms were lavishly appointed with glass decorated with themes which resonated strongly with Henry, such as his devotion to the Trinity and St Thomas Becket and heraldic badges including his motto “Souvenez vous de moi”—which were also reflected in the couple's joint tomb at Canterbury Cathedral.18 His rooms also included a study with two desks, including a large one with shelving space for his books—which were important to Joan and his sons Henry V, John of Bedford, and Humphrey of Gloucester as well.19 Joan's new apartments comprised a two-storey block which was 35 feet wide with a parlour and drawing chamber on the ground floor and a chamber, drawing chamber, and latrine on the first floor. Joan had her own kitchen, chapel, and hall at Eltham as well.20
Thus, Joan had comfortable and even beautifully decorated spaces as both duchess and queen in her husband's residences—with dedicated spaces for her every need from her personal comforts of bathing, eating, and sleeping to receiving visitors, praying, and relaxing with courtiers and family. However, Joan also possessed her own residences, including a selection of manor houses, palaces, and castles. As noted in Chapter 5, she held several castles, including Devizes, Odiham, Bristol, Rockingham, Nottingham, and Hertford. While she did not necessarily use all of these sites as residences, we can see documentary evidence demonstrating that Joan was in residence in 1408 and 1413 at Hertford and she may have also spent time there with Henry who was a frequent visitor between 1403 and 1407, particularly in 1406—indeed Deborah Codling claims that Hertford castle was one of Henry's favoured residences.21 The castle came from the duchy of Lancaster holdings and his father, John of Gaunt, had spent money improving the accommodation and domestic buildings. However, before it was part of Lancaster lands it had been held by two earlier queens, Margaret and Isabella of France, the wives of Edward I and II, respectively. Yet Joan only held the castle until 1415 when she swapped it for Kings Langley palace with Henry V. It is unclear who sought the exchange—Henry V, who may have wanted to return Hertford to the duchy holdings, or Joan herself. There is a petition from the queen in 1415 which requests Kings Langley in compensation for Hertford Castle and subsequent grant of Langley manor from Henry V “in recompense of the castle of Hertford, which was granted to her for life and which the king with her assent has taken into his hands”.22 However, on the same date that he formally took Hertford in exchange for Kings Langley, Henry granted Joan license to live at Hertford in his absence while he was on campaign in France and also gave her leave to “dwell with her men, servants, and minsters” at Windsor, Wallingford, and Berkhamstead as well.23
It is the manor or palace of Kings Langley where we can most clearly discern Joan's physical presence. Evidence demonstrates that she did visit Langley even before it belonged to her, as confirmations of her letters patent place her there multiple times in the first half of 1411—without Henry.24 After she took possession of it in 1415 we can see her there more frequently, with documents noting her presence there in February and March of 1416, and one of her letters patent found in the archives at Nantes testifies to her being in residence at Langley on 1 July 1418.25 Indeed, from the surviving documentation, it appears that Joan divided her time between London and/or Westminster, presumably at court, and Kings Langley between 1415 and 1419. Like all of her properties, Joan lost access to Kings Langley during her extended period of house arrest from 1419 to 1422, but after her release the palace appears to become her favourite residence—indeed from the surviving evidence she appears to have been there, nearly permanently it seems, between 1425 and 1432, with some breaks, such as a pilgrimage to Walsingham, Norwich, and St Albans in 1427.26 In the household account book of 1427–28 we have evidence that she hosted important guests there, including her stepson Humphrey of Gloucester and his wife Eleanor Cobham, as well as Cardinal Beaufort, the bishop of Winchester.27
Joan was not the only royal to favour Langley—it came into royal hands through Eleanor of Castile, who had held it from the earl of Cornwall, and considerable comforts had been installed there over the years, including a bathhouse, a sizeable wine cellar, and a counting house and clock installed by Edward III in 1368, which “doubtless served to count the hours for the inhabitants of the royal manor as well as for the friars”.28 The Dominican friary adjacent was also the resting place of Edward II's great favourite Piers Gaveston and, during the reign of Henry IV, the initial burial place of his predecessor Richard II.29 Joan left her own mark on the palace in both positive and negative ways. As noted in the previous chapter she had named Richard Bitterley, one of the ushers of her chamber, as the keeper of the manor in 1416 and he stayed in post, even during the period of Joan's detention, apparently retaining it until his death in 1456. Between 1426 and 1429, in a period we know Joan to have been largely present at Langley, Bitterley was given a commission by the clerk of the King's Works to undertake extensive work on the manor, which cost £94 5s 5 1/2d (more than £61,000 in modern funds)—expensive works which Joan herself was funding.30
The works touched on nearly all corners of the palace; Lionel Munby noted that it included “repairs to the Duchess of Gloucester's [Eleanor Cobham's] chamber and ‘all the rooms called the Quene chambres’, the chamberlain's and comptroller's rooms, the bakery, spicery, cellar and chandlery. Several new chimneys were built, and the Great Hall, the chambers and passages ‘to the south’ and other buildings outside the Court were also repaired”.31 Sadly, just after these major repair works were undertaken, a terrible accident caused considerable damage to the queen's favourite residence. The contemporary annals of St Albans record that an “incendium grande et damnosum” (“a great and destructive fire”) swept through the palace in 1431 due to the “negligence and drowsiness of a minstrel and insufficient care of a lighted candle”.32 While there is evidence that Joan returned to Langley in 1432, the damage to the palace must have made it far less pleasant to stay in for the queen and her household. Indeed, a survey made of the manor after Joan's death noted the poor state it was in, as the “roofing of the great hall, the chapel, the king's chamber and of two other chambers was defective, so that their walls and timber-work were rotten and decayed through exposure”.33 Given the heavy toll that the palace took in the fire, it would not have been comfortable for Joan and her household to live in and thus it appears that for the final years of her life she favoured her manor at Havering-atte-Bower.
Havering was another location with a long association with queens and had a very long history, having been noted as a royal manor in Domesday Book.34 It was first assigned to a queen as a part of her dower in 1273 and was held by the fourteenth-century queens Margaret and Isabella of France, Philippa of Hainault, and Anne of Bohemia prior to Joan's tenure—it continued to be held by queens into the sixteenth century. Joan appears to have used Havering over the entirety of her life—examples of surviving documentation place her there as consort in late September 1407 and she was at Havering for two significant moments during her dowager years—her arrest on a charge of treason at the beginning of October 1419 and her death in July 1437.
It is during the period of her detention, from October 1419 until late summer 1422, that we have the clearest picture of her movements and the spaces that she occupied. As Myers has noted, Joan was not held in close confinement in any form of prison, rather she was held in a sort of house arrest. Initially, between October and December 1419, she was moved around, fairly frequently, between a series of locations: from Havering to Rotherhithe, then to Dartford, Rochester, to Leeds Castle, back to Rochester, Dartford, and Rotherhithe, and then finally to Pevensey in mid-December, where she remained until early March 1420 under the care of John Pelham. After Pevensey, she was moved to Leeds Castle, which, ironically perhaps, had been one of her own residences. It had initially been assigned to her in dower in 1403—another property which had a long association with queens having also been held by Eleanor of Castile who developed the property extensively and then by Margaret and Isabella of France and Anne of Bohemia. However, she had given Leeds to Thomas Arundel, archbishop of Canterbury, who was a great supporter of her husband in 1412. After Arundel died in 1414, the castle was given by Henry V to his grandmother, Joan countess of Hereford, who died there in 1419.35 By bringing his stepmother Joan to Leeds Castle for her detention in 1420, the castle effectively went full circle and became her residence once again, but in very different circumstances.
In conclusion, this section has touched on many examples of the wide range of places which Joan inhabited over the course of her long life—demonstrating Joan's independent movements to spend time at her own residences, both enjoying their amenities and accommodation for herself and her household and her efforts to maintain, repair, and improve the properties she held. This consideration of Joan's use of space and place has also demonstrated changing patterns of residence in her later years. During Joan's early years as a dowager, prior to her arrest on a dubious charge of treason, it appears that her time was divided between the court and her own residences, when she was still the only queen and the pre-eminent woman in the realm. However, after her release in 1422, with the advent of another queen dowager, her cousin Katherine de Valois, and being demoted to the king's step-grandmother with a slightly tarnished reputation, she appears to have remained more frequently at her own residences at Langley and Havering. It has also demonstrated the importance of the economic aspect of queenship, connecting to our earlier discussion of Joan's management of her queenly portfolio of lands through her engagement with the repair and maintenance of her residences as well as her other castles, manors, and sites. In sum, surveying Joan's connection to space and place gives us both a clearer understanding of how the woman spent her time and how the duchess and queen exercised her office.
Piety: Joan's engagement with religious patronage and politics
In addition to Joan's time spent in her own properties or in other ducal and royal residences, there is evidence that she stayed at ecclesiastical locations as well. In particular, we can see two abbeys which she visited on multiple occasions, Chertsey and Stratford. Chertsey was a Benedictine abbey in Surrey which had been originally founded in the seventh century and had a long history of royal connections and support.36 However, Henry IV did not appear to have a close bond with the abbey, only staying there once during his reign, on 6 May 1403. It is possible that if Joan was with him on that occasion that she formed more of a connection with the abbey as we know that she stayed there on multiple occasions during her consort years, particularly in March 1410 and April 1411.37 Her association with the abbey continued in later years as her priest and chaplain, Henry Weston, was one of Chertsey's monks, who was given leave by the Pope in July 1419 to “to engage in the service of the said queen as long as he pleases, even without the monastery”.38
In her later years, we can see evidence of Joan in residence at Stratford, or St Mary Stratford Langthorne abbey in Essex, in October of 1433 and 1434.39 She may have stayed here due to religious connections or possibly for convenience as it formed a nearly halfway point between London and her residence at Havering-atte-Bower, thus making it an ideal way to break the journey between court visits and home. In contrast to Chertsey, Stratford was a Cistercian house and it was one which Henry IV had visited frequently, with several stays there in the summer of 1411 and early 1412; it is possible that Joan was also introduced to the abbey if she was accompanying her husband.40
However, her stays in ecclesiastical buildings like these, or even Wolvesey Castle, the palace of the bishop of Winchester where she stayed during the wedding festivities of 1403, do not necessarily demonstrate piety—they may purely be circumstantial or for convenience. Yet piety was one of the key qualities of queenship, a virtue which royal women were expected to model to their subjects.41 Michelle Beer has discussed the idea of performative piety as part of the “sacralisation of queenship”—engaging in public acts of worship and charity, religious patronage, and pilgrimage was a key element of the office itself and a means of fashioning a positive image in the short and long term.42 Indeed, this was an area which Joan's niece, Blanca I of Navarre, excelled at throughout her reign, engaging in religious patronage, finishing her father's works at Pamplona's cathedral, and even taking her whole court to Zaragoza to celebrate the Assumption of the Virgin at Santa Maria del Pilar—she died in 1441 while on one of her many pilgrimages to another important site of Marian devotion in Castile.43 Joan's Continental relatives and her English predecessors provide countless examples of significant religious patronage, establishing convents and monasteries—indeed many medieval queens, such as Berengaria of Navarre, chose to be buried at these sites in order to forever link themselves as the patron or foundress of the institution. Supporting a particular site or a particular religious order could also be a means of promoting a queen's sense of natal or dynastic identity—for example Laura Slater has demonstrated how Margaret of France, Isabella of France, and Philippa of Hainault's patronage of Greyfriars in London was a means of highlighting their shared Capetian heritage.44
Joan, however, does not appear to have followed in her predecessors’ and relatives’ footsteps in this sense—we can find no records that Joan founded any religious institution, nor can we see deep, clear links to any site in particular. She also did not appear to favour any religious order exclusively, although there is a clear connection with the Franciscan order which her female Navarrese and French family had a history of patronising. This connection appears to have been fairly consistent over the course of her life, from her early education at the Clarissan convent at Estellla to the presence of Franciscans in the household of the Navarrese infantas in her childhood, and there is evidence of her patronage of the Franciscans with her first husband, Jean IV of Brittany, as well.45 We know that Joan had at least three Franciscan confessors, and in her accounts of 1427–28 there are payments to several Franciscan friars. Yet she also had religious personnel from other orders, such as Henry Weston, the Benedictine monk from Chertsey who served as one of her chaplains, and she had a connection with the Benedictine abbey at St Albans as well. Joan also had some connection with the Dominican priory adjacent to her residence at Kings Langley; for example, in her accounts of 1427–28, there is a record of a payment to the prior, Henry Waryn, and her accounts also record other payments to Dominicans for preaching.
Many members of her household were ecclesiastics, not just the confessors, chaplains, and almoners, but many of her clerical staff, such as John de Tibbay, her treasurer and receiver-general whom we have already met in previous chapters, who was also canon of Lincoln and York, master or warden of Greatham hospital, and rector of Wensley, among other posts. In the Papal Registers, we can see examples of how Joan supported the clerics in her service to obtain further positions, such as John Leveryche, a Franciscan friar whom she petitioned on behalf of in 1413, or her confessor, William Man, whose petition she supported in 1437 to obtain an additional post.46 As Helen Maurer has noted, this was part of “good ladyship”, but also a savvy financial move as “once the cleric held the benefice, he was assumed to have an adequate income, making it unnecessary to continue paying him wages as a household servant”.47 Perhaps Joan was hoping to save the £20 annuity which she had been paying William from the revenues of her manor of Stoke Bardolph for more than five years by supporting his petition for an additional benefice.48 Another member of her religious staff who was given a dispensation by the Pope to hold benefices was John Ayleston. Ayleston held a variety of posts; as well as being rector of Stanwell, he held canonries at Windsor, Ely, and Westminster, several rectories, and was also master of St Mary's hospital in Chichester. Ayleston may have obtained these posts thanks to his long-standing service to the queen—the papal dispensation of 1409 names him as “chaplain of Joan, Queen of England”, and in the household records of 1427–28 he was named as her almoner and gifted cloth, marking around two decades of association, if not constant service to the queen.49 Joan not only petitioned the Pope for posts and positions for her clerics, she also petitioned the king for benefits and benefices within his purview, such as her successful supplication to Henry IV to obtain the hospital of Urdiarp in Soule, Gascony, for her chaplain, Bernand de Sant, in 1407.50 Joan also had some rights attached to her dower to nominate clerics for positions; for example, in 1426 Henry VI granted John Bernyngham the prebend of Shipton on Joan's nomination.51 Yet Joan could overstep the mark in these matters—in 1428, Walter, the abbot of St Augustine's, Bristol, sued the queen for the restitution of the expenses for his installation when it turned out that his election would be overturned as it had been authorised by Joan in connection with her dower rights in the city, but the king had protested that the patronage of St Augustine's and the right to call elections for a new abbot belonged to him instead.52
Supporting the petitions of her clerics was just one of the matters on which Joan corresponded with the papacy—she also requested indulgences or spiritual privileges for the benefit of her eternal soul, and mortal body in some cases. The most frequent privilege that she requested was the power to choose her own confessor, which she requested as both duchess and as queen and both in tandem with her husbands and singly.53 Not only did she receive confirmation of this privilege, but her confessors were also granted the ability to confer additional benefits to her, such as grant to herself and Henry IV plenary remission of their sins as often as they pleased in 1404 or the ability to eat meat in Lent, which she requested with Jean IV in 1387 as a young bride and again in 1434.54 It was specifically noted in the 1434 dispensation that her confessors could release her from the need to fast at Lent and other days of abstinence and could allow her to eat meat and dairy products on the advice of her physicians, given her advanced age, although this factor may have been exaggerated in the request.55 Joan requested the most privileges in 1413, asking for the right to use a portable altar to celebrate Mass, choose her own confessor, and for her confessor to be able to grant absolution, enjoin a salutary penance, and grant her plenary remission of her sins at the hour of her death and one other time as well. The timing of this may have been related to the decline and death of her husband, Henry IV, which may have sharpened her concern for her soul, or as many royals requested privileges in connections with changes in title or status, this may be related to reaffirming her standing as she transitioned from consort to dowager.56
Joan's relationship with the papacy was clearly impacted by the Papal Schism. As discussed previously, Joan's Navarrese family had been adherents of the anti-pope in Avignon, and while her first husband, Jean IV, had also been a supporter of the Avignonese pope, the English were allied with the papacy in Rome. This complicated the situation regarding matrimonial dispensations—rather than ones which allowed her to choose her own confessor or eat meat in Lent as discussed previously, these dispensations were papal letters which allowed royal marriages to go ahead, or alternatively refused to support a particular match, and thus could have a major political impact. The first Avignon anti-pope, Clement VII, issued a dispensation for the marriage of Jean IV and Joan on 15 August 1386.57 While this would seem to indicate good relations with the papacy and support of Jean IV, it should be noted that at almost the same time Clement issued a dispensation for Jean de Penthièvre, scion of the rival Breton clan who contested the Monfort's rule of the duchy, to wed the daughter of Olivier de Clisson, effectively sanctioning the union of Jean IV's greatest enemies.58 The dispensation for Joan's second marriage was even more complicated given the fact that England was on the other side of the Schism. This required careful manoeuvring on Joan's part—first she obtained a dispensation from the anti-pope, Benedict XIII, to marry an unspecified cousin within the fourth degree in March 1401 while in the midst of negotiating her coming marriage with Henry IV.59 Then she requested a dispensation to live with heretics, or those on the other side of the Schism, again without specifying her intention to ally herself with the English king. It appears that her agent in Avignon to secure these dispensations was Bernard du Peyron, one of her closest clerics who had risen from being her almoner or chaplain to become bishop of Nantes under her sponsorship.60 Once in England, Joan's foreignness, and that of many of the members of her household, was amplified by their connection to the anti-pope in Avignon. While this tension was eventually resolved by the end of the Papal Schism, during Joan's years as consort this added to the concerns regarding the presence of a large number of foreign courtiers in her retinue as discussed in the previous chapter. Indeed, the original 1404 petition to expel foreigners from the royal household noted “that all those who take the part of the antipope … if there are any such around the royal majesty … should go overseas with all possible and decent haste”, and particularly noted that the foreigners, “schismatics or not”, from Joan's household should be removed.61
There is a range of evidence to demonstrate her devotional practices which reflect both Joan's personal piety and the expectations of a queen to model pious behaviour. We do know that Joan went on at least one pilgrimage, as John Amundesham, the chronicler of St Albans, commented that Joan visited the monastery on her way home to Kings Langley after a pilgrimage around several sites in the east of England including Walsingham, Norwich, Peterborough, and “aliis diversis locis” in 1427.62 The account books from 1420–21 demonstrate that Joan had Masses celebrated “in the presense of the queen herself” on all the major feast days such as Corpus Christi, Trinity, and the feast of St John the Baptist at Leeds Castle during her confinement, giving offerings of 6s 8d on each occasion, with the exception of Easter 1422 when Mass was celebrated by two vicars, and the queen offered 13s 4d.63 She kept religious personnel in her household in order to celebrate Mass regularly—in addition to the aforementioned confessors, her 1427–28 account books list more than a half a dozen chaplains and her almoner, the long-serving John Ayleston, who was charged with distributing £7 3s 4d to the poor that year, equal to nearly £4,500 today.64
As noted previously, she had her own chapel at Eltham Palace as consort, and her other residences all had some facility for the devotions for the queen and her household. We can get a glimpse of Joan's chapel at Kings Langley through a list of its furnishings made in her surviving household accounts of 1427–28.65 Interestingly, this list turns up twice in her account books, first as an inventory of items used to celebrate Mass in the queen's chapel that “for various reasons” Joan and her council decided to move or send away—though these reasons are not explained. Later in the account book, the same inventory of the queen's chapel appears with a note that it has been released, delivered, or put in the care of Eleanor Cobham, the recent bride of Joan's stepson, Humphrey of Gloucester. While it has been suggested that this was simply a gift from Joan to Eleanor, it is not entirely clear from the wording that this is the case.66 Even if it were more a means of showing support for Humphrey and Eleanor's controversial marriage than a mere gift, giving the new duchess the entire contents of the chapel and all the apparatus needed to celebrate Mass would have been a very generous way to welcome Eleanor to the family. If it was merely put in Eleanor's keeping or “sent away”, the question is why—was this in conjunction with renovations at Kings Langley perhaps or, as Jones has suggested, a desire to “shed some regal trappings”?67 Whatever the case, this inventory gives us a glimpse of the equipment needed by a queen to celebrate Mass in rather lavish style in her private chapel, including several sets of rich vestments including chasubles and copes for her clerical personnel, some made of cloth of gold and others embroidered with roses or flowers in golden thread.
In sum, this section has demonstrated the range of interaction that Joan had with the church, which reflects the centrality of religion to all aspects of life in the Middle Ages. Many of these interactions were in connection with her queenship—from fulfilling expectations of queenly piety as a model to her subjects to engaging with the political aspects of the Papal Schism to secure her marriage to Henry IV. We can also see practical aspects of her piety, from staying at ecclesiastical sites to employing clerics on her staff as both clerks and chaplains. Yet we can also see Joan's devotional practices to some extent by considering the dedicated spaces, objects, and personnel that she kept in order to be able to celebrate Mass regularly and in the dispensations she requested for spiritual privileges, again giving us a window into both the practice of queenship and the day-to-day life of Joan as an individual.
Possessions: Display, status, gift-giving, and networks
Our previous two themes, places and piety, are reflected in our next section, an examination of Joan's possessions. We will be thinking about the objects and possessions which furnished Joan's residences as well as the exchange of objects between Joan and her networks of relatives and servitors through the mechanism of gift giving. Many of these gifts and possessions were objects which were connected to piety: items for her chapel, precious reliquaries, religious jewellery, and books which served a devotional purpose or focused on religious themes. In order to get an understanding of the objects that Joan gifted and possessed, it is necessary to piece together a wide range of evidence—while some queens, like Clémence of Hungary or Joan's aunt Blanche of Navarre, left behind detailed wills and inventories on their death which give us rich information about what they possessed and the network of individuals that they were connected to through their bequests, there is no equivalent surviving document for Joan. What we do have, however, are financial documents—including evidence of expenditure and account books, particularly for her dowager years during her incarceration, and records from 1427 to 1428 which have survived. While a will or testament provides a means for a queen to express the items and individuals that she valued through her bequests, these records of expenditure can be used to build a picture of her taste through documentation of the things that Joan treasured, wore, ate, used, and gifted.
This section will discuss the importance of gift giving, which will underpin an examination of objects and possessions linked to Joan in terms of how she received and gave objects to enhance her status and maintain her familiar and court networks. The importance of display will be particularly highlighted, noting how Joan used jewellery, clothing, and other possessions to demonstrate her exalted status—this was particularly important in times when she was transitioning status from duchess to queen and when she was struggling to maintain her queenly position as an aging dowager. Objects were also a means of maintaining connections with Joan's extended family over the course of her long life, which will be demonstrated by looking at the gifts exchanged and the meanings behind them.
We begin by re-examining Joan's transition from duchess to queen, looking specifically at the role that objects and gift exchange played in affecting this transformation. As Brigitte Buettner has noted, gift giving was absolutely central to the mechanism of the royal court and medieval society more broadly. She argues that gift giving “was so much woven into the medieval mentalité that one cannot turn the pages of a literary work, in Latin or the vernacular, religious or secular, history or fiction, without constantly stumbling over its glorified manifestations”.68 Gift exchange was a foundational element of life at court—it played a key role in building and maintaining relationships between peers and bonds of service, it was central to diplomacy and to projecting the wealth, power, and authority of individuals, as well as that of the realm itself in the context of gifts given to ambassadors and between rulers. Here we will examine how gift exchange aided Joan's transformation in status by looking at gifts made between Joan and her new husband and family to establish her both as queen of England as well as his bride and the stepmother of his children. While the focus here is on her transition into queenship, it is important to note that, as discussed at the end of the first chapter, her Navarrese family had also used gifts of material culture, including valuable items of jewels and crowns, to build a trousseau that helped Joan make her first transition from infanta to duchess.
Gifts also form a customary part of courtship rituals—Joan began to receive gifts from Henry IV as their secret matrimonial negotiations gathered pace. November 1401 was a particularly vital point in the negotiations when a team of envoys from the duchess came to London for intensive discussions with the king about the marriage. When they left the following month, Henry sent with them several valuable gifts for his prospective bride. One was a golden pax or “paxbrede” decorated with four balas rubies, a “grand saphir”, and pearls, valued at £122 13s 4d, which could have been used for both decorative and liturgical purposes in the duchess's chapel.69 The other gift was two rings—one which was valued at £100 with a sapphire and ruby and another diamond ring worth £20.70
While these were beautiful and valuable gifts, it must be noted that they had not been specifically commissioned for his bride-to-be. Rather, Henry was “regifting”—which did not have the social approbation that is has now—indeed as Marguerite Keane has demonstrated, the links to previous owners could make an object even more meaningful and valuable.71 The pax was part of Richard II's treasure and had originally been given by Thomas Mowbray, earl marshal.72 The rings had originally belonged to Joan's predecessor and cousin—Richard II's second wife, Isabella de Valois—ironically or perhaps fittingly, the sapphire ring had been used to contract another royal marriage as it had been part of Isabella's betrothal ceremonial in the Sainte Chapelle in 1396.73 Henry received these pieces into his possession on 15 December and appears to have promptly chosen a few choice pieces to send immediately on to Joan. Henry also recycled his predecessor's treasure to create gifts for Joan, commissioning Thomas Langport to use gems from brooches which had belonged to Richard II to construct a circlet set with rubies and diamonds. The circlet was sent to Joan in July 1402, perhaps to celebrate their proxy marriage that April or in anticipation of her arrival in England for their wedding.74
When Joan did arrive for their wedding in the new year, Henry marked the occasion with a plethora of gifts. Jessica Lutkin has noted that “Henry was readily prepared to indulge his new wife and he lavished expensive gifts on her, perhaps to show his authority and majesty at court, particularly because the gifts would remain within the court, as well as cement their relationship”.75 Henry spent lavishly on more than gifts—as noted in earlier chapters, he also spent considerable sums on their wedding at Winchester and the new queen's coronation. These events, which both took place in February 1403, were not just an opportunity to firmly establish Joan in her role as queen of England; these ceremonies were designed to reinforce Henry's own rather shaky position as the first Lancastrian king—a man whom many in England and across Europe still viewed as an illegitimate usurper. Heralding Joan's arrival with impressive pomp and circumstance, as well as bejewelled gifts, enhanced his own position and reinforced his authority by projecting majesty and magnificence. As Richard Barber has noted:
Magnificence was applied to everything to do with the ruler: his person, his family, his entourage, his court, the artists, musicians, and architects he employed. Above all it was on show in his public appearances, his feasts and ceremonies. And it was also what inspired the great collections of jewels, manuscripts and holy relics.76
Thus the gifts showered on Joan, particularly when they were magnificent objects that she could wear and display in important ceremonies such as their wedding or her coronation, served a very political, as well as personal, purpose.
Moreover, each gift had significance and meaning far beyond their decorative value. On his way to the wedding itself, Henry stopped at Reading to pick up cloth of gold for his new queen—a costly fabric reserved for those of the highest status—which she could wear to emphasise her queenly position.77 The day before their wedding, on 6 February, Henry gave her a golden hanap or cup and ewer, encrusted with balas rubies, sapphires, and pearls, which had originally been gifts from her own cousin Charles VI of France. These items were not only costly, valued at £357 6s 8d and £111 6s 8d, respectively, but may have also served to underline her familial link to the Valois dynasty.78
The same day, Henry also presented Joan with a crown worth £1,313 6s 8d with several “grosse emerauds” as well as sapphires, rubies, diamonds, and pearls.79 This crown had many layers of significance—it was in itself a symbol of royalty and the queen's office which she was assuming. Jenny Stratford also believes that it was worn by Anne of Bohemia, Richard II's first wife, at her own wedding in 1382.80 Thus the crown had a link to another royal bride—this not only gave Henry and Joan credence by tapping into a form of royal tradition or continuity, but it again highlighted Joan's royal connections as Anne was related to Joan—Joan's grandmother, Bonne of Luxembourg, was a member of the same imperial dynasty. Interestingly, around the time of Joan's departure from Brittany to take up her queenly position in England, she was gifted another costly golden crown with 12 “fleurons”, valued at 5,000 écus, by her uncle the powerful duke of Burgundy.81 This gift also had multiple layers of significance; it could be seen as merely a customary wedding gift from a relative, a gift to soften the blow of her uncle coming to Brittany to take the regency and the custody of her sons from her, or an acknowledgement of her new queenly status or—most likely—all of the above.
Another costly wedding gift to Joan from her new husband underlined her membership in the new Lancastrian dynasty, rather than her ties abroad. This was a large collar which had been made for the queen by John Whitewell, which cost 500 marks, or £333 6s 8d.82 The collar appears to have featured the Lancastrian SS design—while the meaning of the SS has been debated, it was deeply entwined with the king and his family, instantly identifying the wearer as a member of his family, affinity, or as his ally or supporter.83 These Lancastrian SS collars, which were given both to members of Henry's affinity in England and gifted diplomatically abroad to allies in Portugal and the Holy Roman Empire, were used by Henry “to place his mark firmly on the English court and send out a message at home and to other European courts that the Lancastrian dynasty was a permanent fixture”.84 This gift was a way of welcoming Joan into the Lancastrian fold—marking her as the king's newest supporter and ally as well as his queen and bride. The expensive jewels and gold that went into its creation would have also advertised both the king's wealth and her own elevated status, but ultimately it was the design and its meaning which had the greater significance. On the tomb that she shares with Henry in Canterbury Cathedral, her effigy sports a similar collar—the effigy may even have been designed to represent the one that she was given the day before she wed, marking her eternal allegiance to her husband as a Lancastrian queen.
Another gift which symbolised her welcome to the family were two golden tablets worth £79, which were given to Joan on behalf of her new stepsons John of Bedford and Humphrey of Gloucester.85 Tablets were a type of religious jewellery, which sometimes contained relics or depicted religious scenes and could be worn as a pendant on a chain. It appears that they were extremely fashionable in this period; indeed Ronald Lightbown claims that “by the 1390s the tablet was already a favourite type of devotional pendant in England”.86 Joan also gave Henry VI a tablet in her later years which was bejewelled with sapphires and emeralds and had an intricate and interesting design. The design featured “an ymage of Seynt George hauyng a crosse upon hys armure” and 12 enamelled lions—given that St George was the patron saint of England and the king's heraldry featured lions rampant, it was a very fitting present for its king.87 Henry VI also gave Joan a tablet as a New Year's gift in 1436 with a “great sapphire” on it, which had originally been given to him by “my Lady of Gloucestre”, mostly likely Eleanor Cobham—again indicating the cyclical nature of gift exchange by passing on a gift from one member of the royal family to another.88
Moving on from Joan's initial period as queen consort, another window into the jewellery that Joan possessed comes from an inventory of the “gold, silver, things, goods, jewels of any kind under the keeping of friar John Raundolf” which Henry V had ordered Joan Beauchamp, Lady Bergavenny, a relative through his de Bohun maternal kin, to seize in August 1419 prior to Joan's arrest.89 While this list reflects goods in her confessor's keeping, as A.R. Myers notes, most of these items clearly belonged to Joan given their description and the fact that the “gold and silver objects and jewels, which were considerable in quantity and valuable in quality” would not have been appropriate for a humble friar to own.90 Multiple items are noted to have connections to Brittany, such as two golden spoons “yn a case of silke wroght with the armes of Bretaigne” and one “night cappe for a woman, rede after the gise of Bretaigne”—again the latter item was clearly not something Randolf would have used but Joan certainly might have adopted this fashion during her Breton years and brought it with her to England. There are also many items of jewellery, several of which appear to have personal links and may well have been gifts from either of her two husbands. One is a gold ring with a square sapphire on it, engraved with the motto “a ma vie”, which, as will be discussed shortly, was linked to the Breton Order of the Ermine, which Jean IV founded and thus may have been a gift from him, or even from Joan's son, Jean V. Two golden brooches also had engravings on them: one said “a ma vie de cuer entier” (“you have my whole heart for my life”), which may again have been linked to her Breton husband or his chivalric order, or might indicate a more affectionate or intimate meaning instead; the other brooch was heart shaped and engraved with “a vous me lie”, which can mean “I bind myself to you” or “it binds me to you”—a motto which was later used by Richard III. While we have to be careful not to read too much into these engravings as these were phrases which were hardly unique and may not have been attestations of intense feeling, they do offer an indication at least of the personal meaning of jewellery beyond displaying wealth and position.
In the 1419 inventory we can also see valuable jewelled items with religious uses or decoration noted previously which might shed further light on Joan's personal piety and devotion, such as a golden tablet with images of St John the Baptist and St Catherine and two silver and gold pax bredes, one “wyth a crucifix and the images of Marie and John pounced and enamelled” and another with four angels at the corners “beryng the armes of the passoun”. These particular saints may have had personal meaning for Joan—it is possible that John the Baptist was her own name saint, and devotion to St Catherine of Alexandria was very strong in this period—she was particularly popular with the Valois, including Joan's uncle the duke of Berry.91 There are also chalices decorated with religious themes which may have been used in Masses performed in her chapel, including a chalice engraved with “Benedicamus patrem et filium” (“Let us bless the father and the son”) and another chalice and a chafing-pan decorated with emblems of the Trinity, to which Henry IV was particularly devoted. While some of these items might have belonged to or been used by Friar Randolf, particularly a coffer with “diuerses small bokes of the forsaid Freres”, it is very likely that many of these items were used by Joan during worship or devotional practices as well.
There are also items of a more personal or practical nature in the 1419 inventory which can shed some potential light on items she used or had around her which can evoke an image or even smells and tastes, such as multiple items decorated with roses and a “tastour of siluer for rose water” and a silver fork “with a dragons hede holding vp the stalke for grene Gynger”. We can see reflections of those same items in the 1422 account book held at Leeds Castle where there is a payment of 9s 2d for a pot of green ginger and another for 3s 8d to a certain John Penne for rose water.92 Again, Joan's account books, while seemingly dry financial records, are actually a treasure trove of information about her day-to-day life, giving us a window into not only her possessions but what she and her household ate, used, and consumed. Payments for medicines and for physicians can tell us something about the queen's health—for example, evidence in the Society of Antiquaries account books reveal that Joan suffered a period of serious illness in 1427–28.93 The account books give very precise records of daily and annual expenditure on supplies—while some of this is more interesting in terms of costs and economics, there are also interesting details which give a richer picture. For example, from her period of incarceration the accounts note that supplies of Gascon, Rochelle, and Rhenish wine were brought from the Continent. The Leeds wardrobe account shows that the wine could flow quite lavishly when visitors came—E.E. Dodds notes in his analysis that expenditure in the “Butlery” was double the normal rate when Humphrey, duke of Gloucester, came to visit on 12 June 1422, commenting that “either the duke came with a large entourage or someone in his party was fond of a drink or two”.94 They might have eaten off the sizable selection of silver plate that was inventoried in the Leeds wardrobe book, much of it stamped with the arms of England—as well as that of England and France. Dodd notes that the description of the decoration suggests that much of this plate, though valuable, was “second and third hand pieces” which likely came from the collections of Edward III, Richard II, and Anne of Bohemia and her husband, Henry IV.95 Yet the connection with previous monarchs and consorts could also be seen as making the items more valuable and reinforcing Joan's status by using items fit for her royal predecessors.
One of the most interesting areas to look at in terms of supplies bought in relates to clothing for Joan and her household. Cloth and clothing were related to the queen's wardrobe in two senses—one in terms of the modern notion of the word “wardrobe” or the garments Joan would have worn, but also in the sense of the “wardrobe” as a department of her household which also encompassed other vital supplies like spices, wax, and other household goods. Indeed, Joan had her own storage facility for these goods in the City of London on St Martins Lane near Aldersgate, St Botolph's church and that of Greyfriars, which became known as “Queen Jane's Wardrobe”, as well as a dedicated official, the Keeper of her Great Wardrobe—one of these was Richard Crek who was paid 6d a day in her 1428 accounts.96
Clothing is of course another key aspect of display that in tandem with the jewellery discussed previously were vital means of projecting position and status. This was not only important in terms of the clothing that Joan wore personally, but the apparel of those around her was also a means of affirming her own position, demonstrating her wealth and standing. Her surviving account books contain an abundance of information on cloth and clothing, as well as the suppliers and tailors that Joan worked with such as Emma Norton and Matilda Dentone, silkwomen from London; tailors John Fauconer and John Lowes; draper John Skelton; mercer Thomas Denton; furrier Richard Barton; and John Hexman who specialised in socks. This brief discussion can only scratch the surface of the material in these rich sources, which is worthy of its own study, but even a few selected examples can help us to get a better understanding of the functioning of the household and more of a visual image of what Joan and her household wore.
Interestingly, in records from the period of her detention, the cloth or clothing for the queen appears to have been generally all black, but it was enlivened with trim of marten fur and black lace as well as possibly some red silk which was purchased in her Leeds wardrobe book.97 It appears that Joan's penchant for black dresses had not changed greatly over the 1420s, as the Society of Antiquaries account also lists a least seven black gowns made for the queen as well as black kirtles. Joan's preference for black may have been tied to her dowager status, reminding all who saw her that she was Henry IV's widow, although it must be noted that black cloth was not used exclusively for mourning in this period. Black cloth was becoming increasingly fashionable among the elite classes and could be expensive as it required skill to produce a deep saturated black colour.98 Her gowns were also richly trimmed as noted above, and black could still be made of expensive, rich fabrics such as a the “damask of Florence” used for one gown. In addition to her dresses, there are also notes in the Leeds account for the purchase of a silken cap and “temples” or “templars”, a headpiece arranged at the temples which Joan also wears on her tomb effigy—the 1427–28 accounts note further expenditure for “templerers”, again giving us the idea of a fairly consistent “look” for the queen over the decade.
In terms of her household, gifts of cloth were part of the perquisites of the job—this was not only a means of rewarding staff but ensuring they were well dressed in effectively uniform or livery. Caroline Dunn has noted that the members of Philippa of Hainault's household normally received two issues of cloth and fur a year and we can also see examples of Joan's male and female household receiving similar allotments.99 Even during the period of detention we can find provision for cloth for Joan's household—as noted previously, these lists can be useful not only to see what they were given but because these gifts can help us to reconstruct the composition of her household. From 1421–22 one surviving example shows us that her ladies all received 5–6 ells of coloured cloth as well as trimmings including miniver and doe skin.100 Her clerks also received a similar allotment of coloured cloth (without the trimmings that the women were given), while other male servants, such as her valets and those who worked in the scullery, received 5 ells of a mixture of coloured and striped cloth.
To bring this section together, we have to imagine the complete package—to assert her queenly position, Joan would have wanted anyone who visited her to be impressed by her residence, the items within it, the personnel who surrounded her, and her own appearance. If the house was crumbling around her and she and her servitors wore threadbare, dowdy clothes, that would demonstrate that she had fallen down the social ladder. Even though it is a thoroughly modern concept, the idea of “conspicuous consumption”—to make a show of her wealth to affirm her queenly status—can be applied here. Given all the threats and challenges to her position and her increasingly marginal and tenuous position in her later years as the king's elderly step-grandmother, whom some may have still perceived as a possible witch or traitor, Joan had to continue to work to keep up appearances, using the power of space, place, and display to do so.
Gift giving and familial connections
Finally, it is worth looking at the gifts given to her family, particularly those that Joan left behind in Brittany when she made her transformation or transition from duchess to queen, with particular focus on her son Jean V. These gifts were doubly important—not only were they a way for Joan to maintain maternal ties with her son after she left the duchy, but they were also important in terms of the diplomatic relationship between Brittany and England, which was under considerable strain during the reign of Henry IV, with open conflict breaking out at various points after Henry and Joan's marriage. However, the first gifts to examine here were from Henry himself to his new stepson Jean at the time of his proxy wedding to Joan in April 1402. Henry sent two lavish gifts to the young duke of a matching golden cup and ewer which were both covered in balas rubies, sapphires, and pearls, valued at £188 13s 4d.101 After the initial period of transition, Joan continued to use gifts to maintain her relationship with Jean V for decades following her departure. One of the most stunning gifts that she sent to him c. 1412 was the Reliquary of the Trinity, which is now part of the collection of the Louvre Museum. The Louvre claims that this lavish piece, in the international Gothic style, enamelled and encrusted in precious stones, was “precisely the type of gem that royalty purchased for New Year's Day presents or for great occasions. It depicts themes dear to the Valois—the Trinity and the Pietà”.102 Thus this gift could be seen as not only affirming the bonds between mother and son, but of their royal blood and mutual connection to their wider familial network.
Given the increasing tension in cross-Channel politics after the accession of Henry V in 1414 and the king's campaigns in France, including his victory at the battle of Agincourt, it was increasingly important for Joan to maintain her fragile bond with her son and for England to ensure that Brittany would be an ally in their attempt to dominate France. A list compiled of the duke's jewels and gold and silver work acquired between 1414 and 1424 reveals several gifts made from Joan during this period including an “équierre d’or” garnished with 6 balas rubies, 15 sapphires, and 16 large pearls, multiple tablets and golden rings, and a diamond which the queen sent to Jean when he met with Henry V in Rouen.103 There is also a significant mention of a Lancastrian SS collar enamelled with the words “A ma vie”—the giver is not listed but this most likely came from Henry V. This collar shows an interesting amalgamation of English and Breton elements—from the design, which as noted previously signalled allegiance to the Lancastrians, to the inclusion of “A ma vie” which was the motto of the Breton chivalric Order of the Ermine, an order instituted by Jean IV who was inspired by the English Order of the Garter.104 Indeed this list also shows considerable gift exchange between Joan's Breton son and her Lancastrian stepsons, including a golden cup the duke gave to Henry V and a crystal goblet for John, duke of Bedford.105 Joan's servitor John Periaunt also turns up in this inventory, as he was also given “un esquierre d’or” when he came to Brittany from Henry V and Joan, in conjunction with diplomatic discussions as noted in Chapter 4.
Linked to the gift of a collar to the Breton duke with both English and Breton elements is a gift given by Joan which also merged heraldic elements, this time that of England, France, and Navarre. Rather than a ceremonial collar, this was a shield which was buried with Henry V in 1422—an indication perhaps of how precious the item was to him or how valuable it was. It is now on display in Westminster Abbey's Triforium Gallery (WA 0837–39). The shield was in the “heater” style, similar to the one which was buried with Edward the Black Prince and was commonly used in the period. What is interesting is the construction and decoration—while the core was oak, it was covered in horsehair and layers of linen with silk as the top layer. The silk was originally azure blue woven with an ivy pattern and has yellow fleurs-de-lys painted on it, alluding to the arms of France and England.106 A recent examination of the shield by experts at the Victoria and Albert Museum revealed that the silk may be some of the oldest surviving examples of Chinese silk in late medieval Europe. The silk is believed to be of “imperial quality” and “may have been part of a consignment of astounding quality” that may have come into Europe via the Silk Road.107 The link to Joan can be clearly seen in the interior of the shield which is emblazoned with Navarrese heraldic designs in red velvet. Given the heraldry, Joan would seem the most likely commissioner and giver of the gift—while it is possible that her brother Carlos III of Navarre could have sent it as a suitably royal gift, this would have been recorded in contemporary records in terms of the expenditure, dispatch, and receipt of what would have been an important diplomatic gift. If Joan is the most probable giver of the gift, the question remains, who was the intended recipient—her husband or her stepson? It seems more likely that it was a gift to Henry IV, as a generous gift from one spouse to another. If that was the case, multiple experts have queried why Henry V chose to use it or indeed be buried with it. Was it a sign of his reconciliation with Joan, as he had ordered during his final illness in the summer of 1422 for her to be released and her lands restored to her? Was it chosen by Henry, or even someone else in the royal family, for him to be buried with due to its link to his father or its own inherent value and splendour? While we can never be certain, this piece remains one of the most interesting and impressive extant gifts given by Joan during her lifetime.
Returning to gift exchanges with Joan's biological family, in July 1418 we see what appears to be a familial exchange of gifts between mother and son with the receipt of “sixty pipes of wine, seven baskets of lampreys, two cloths of Joucelyn and a barrel of shad (a type of fish)” which had been sent from Nantes on the Nostre Dame of St Nicholas. Joan then sent John de Morin back to Brittany with “eight small barrels of wine of Tire and Malvesye” to her son Jean V.108 Joan also sent gifts to her daughter-in-law (and cousin), the new duchess Jeanne de Valois, including a parrot (or popinjay, “papegeay”), cloth from London, and four horses along with the shipment of wine.109 Joan certainly engaged in gift exchange with the rest of her Valois family as well—for example, the Chronicle of Saint Denis notes that when Joan's uncle the duke of Berry paid a visit to Nantes in the early 1390s she gave him bejewelled gifts, which were “of inestimable value” due to their exquisite workmanship and the richness of the materials, to demonstrate her delight at seeing him.110
Gift exchange was also a means of retaining connections with her Navarrese family during Joan's years in Brittany and England. Examples include a generous pension of 1,000 livres to her aunt Juana of Navarre, countess of Rohan, and bequests from her aunt Blanche of Navarre, queen of France, which demonstrate a sense of connection and family feeling between them.111 While we will discuss books given to Joan by her aunt Blanche shortly, another key bequest to her niece in her will was “a pair of loose bedclothes, the best that I have to put on women in labour”.112 Marguerite Keane, in her analysis of the testament of Blanche of Navarre, stresses the significance of this seemingly mundane gift: “The importance of the bed to the household is an indication of how personal the gift of bedsheets to Jeanne of Brittany [Joan] was; it was an affectionate gift that expressed a close family relationship and the care of an aunt for the wellbeing of a niece”.113 Moreover, Keane notes that this gift was not necessarily intended to be practical or used for childbirth “as Jeanne, mother of seven children by 1396 [when the will was written], surely had plenty of furnishings for childbirth. It was meant to be a symbolic and affectionate gift”.114 Gifts were also given to and received from her brother Carlos III of Navarre; for example, an entry in the Navarrese accounts in May 1414 notes a payment of 38 sueldos for cauldrons bought “to send to the queen of England, sister of the king”.115
The commissioning and collection of books was an important part of elite culture for men as well as women and offer us another opportunity to explore Joan's piety, personal taste, and possessions and examine the extent of gift exchange with her familial network. As Susan Groag Bell summarises, in the Middle Ages “women frequently bought and inherited religious as well as secular books, and spent considerable time reading them”.116 This applies directly to Joan's own situation—while we cannot be certain how much time she spent reading books, we do know that she was gifted and commissioned books. Most of these books were devotional works or those which provide religious or moral instruction, which was in keeping with trends in elite female book ownership in the period. These books might have been both personally read by the queen herself and/or read with, by, and to her ladies.117
While the full extent of Joan's library is unclear as we lack a definitive will or inventory which would help us to trace it, there are eight books which we can link to her, six of which are still extant today. It is entirely likely that she owned many more given the book commissioning and collecting activities of her contemporaries and recent female ancestors, including her grandmothers, Juana II of Navarre and Bonne of Luxembourg, who “initiated what would be a centuries-long trend of female book-collecting”.118 Studies of fourteenth-century royal women have noted extensive book collections: Isabella of France, queen of England, had 34 books in her 1358 inventory; Clémence of Hungary, queen of France, had 44 manuscripts in her inventory; and another French queen related to Joan, Jeanne d’Evreux, had more than 50.119
While there is some debate or lack of clarity about Joan's ownership of some of these works, one aspect which has helped to establish connections to her is her tendency to leave her signature in her books, almost like a modern “bookplate” or “ex libris” that people use to denote their ownership. Four of the books believed to be owned by her include examples of her signature or mark of ownership. A great example of this is on folio 2 verso (flyleaf) of a beautiful illuminated thirteenth-century psalter, now in the John Rylands library at the University of Manchester and described as “one of the library's most sumptuous manucripts”.120 Here is clearly written “Royne Jahanne”, which Léopold Delisle notes matches several extant documents in the Breton archives.121 We are fortunate in that Joan was a keen signatory of a wide range of surviving documents in English, French, and Spanish archives, which give us ample opportunity to compare the signatures which survive in these books.122 Indeed, Michael Jones, Anne Crawford, and several Victorian writers have made the claim that she was the first queen of England to leave a surviving example of her signature.123 Two manuscripts linked to Joan in the Bibliotheque Nationale in Paris also bear examples of her name inscribed on them—a Bible historiale and a translation of a Roman work by Titus Livius (Livy).124 Finally, there are partially erased indicators “Ce livre est a Jehan … (This book belongs to Jehan ...)” and the word “Royne” on multiple folios of a copy of Jean de Meun's Testament in Harvard's Houghton Library which have indicated Joan's likely ownership of this book as well.125
Another major thread which links many of these books, apart from the predominant themes of the works, is their connection to her family. As Julia Finch has noted, for many royal women “manuscripts served as markers of political and familial identity”.126 As noted in the discussion of familial gift exchange, giving objects to family members either during one's lifetime or as a bequest in a will affirmed and strengthened family networks as well as ensuring that valuable objects stayed within the dynasty.127 An excellent example of this for Joan's own book collection is a breviary given to her by her aunt Blanche of Navarre—it had previously belonged to another aunt, Jeanne, who had been a nun at the convent of Longchamp, and was rebound by Blanche before being bequeathed to Joan in her will.128 There may be another connection to Joan's aunt Blanche in a second manuscript owned by Joan, a Bible historiale, now also in the Bibliotheque Nationale de France. While it was not bequeathed to Joan by Blanche, the illuminator has been identified as the same artist commissioned by Blanche for her manuscript of Roman de la dame à la licorne, potentially suggesting that perhaps this book may have been commissioned by Blanche and gifted in her lifetime to Joan, but the early history of the manuscript is unclear.129 However, a clearer familial link is that this manuscript went to Joan's favourite stepson Humphrey—an inscription in the book itself notes that it was given to Humphrey in September 1427 at the Abbey of Our Lady (Notre Dame) in Chester by John Stanley, who must have been charged to do so by Joan, the prior owner of the book.130
Two other books have tenuous but very interesting familial connections to Joan on multiple levels. What is fascinating is that both are connected to Joan's ancestors and namesakes: Juana I and Juana II, both regnant queens of Navarre and respectively her great-great grandmother and grandmother. The book related to the elder of the two women is a copy of the Miroir des Dames, a French translation of the Speculum Dominarum, a “mirror” for ladies or queens which was originally written for and dedicated to Juana I of Navarre by Durand de Champagne, her confessor.131 The book begins with an illumination of the queen herself enthroned with crown, sceptre, and royal robes covered in fleurs-de-lys, receiving the book from a monk, presumably Durand de Champagne, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting.132 While the provenance of the book is unclear, there are multiple possibilities of how it may have come into Joan's hands. Diane Booton suggests that this manuscript may have come to Joan from her cousin Charles d’Orleans, who had received it from his mother, Valentina Visconti—as Charles was held prisoner in England for an extended period after the battle of Agincourt, like Joan's son Arthur de Richemont.133 It is entirely possible that the two might have visited each other during that time and/or exchanged gifts, such as this manuscript. An alternative, but less likely, possibility is that it may have come to Joan through her aunts Blanche and Agnes; Blanche left Agnes her copy of the Miroir des Dames —it is possible that Agnes in turn left it to Joan; however, the timing of this is questionable as Agnes died in 1397, a year before Blanche.134 However it came into her hands, it would have been entirely appropriate for Joan to receive or acquire this manuscript, both because of the familial connection to her ancestor and namesake and because of its content, which offered moral and religious guidance specifically designed to demonstrate how a “queen and other well-born ladies should conduct themselves, not just in the eyes of God, but within society at large”, making it ideal reading material for Joan and her female household.135
The second book, linked to Joan's grandmother Juana II, was one of her illuminated books of hours. Marguerite Keane has powerfully argued that the imagery in the books of hours Juana II commissioned was not just intended for personal devotion but can be seen as a political statement “motivated by a desire to link Jeanne of Navarre [Juana II] and her children to her Capetian ancestry”.136 This connection was made by the relatively unusual image cycle connected to St Louis in Juana's most celebrated book of hours, which highlights her links to the Capetian king and saint that gave her and her children a strong link to the French crown—as discussed in Chapter 1, Juana's claim had formed a central aspect of Joan's own father, Carlos II's, politics in the Hundred Years War.137 Again, there is a possible link to Joan's aunt Blanche who bequeathed to Joan's maternal uncle, the duke of Berry, “my most beautiful book of hours, which our very dear lady and mother, may God pardon her, left us at her passing”.138 However, there is some debate about the provenance of Juana II's most famous book of hours and who may have possessed it after her death. Christopher de Hamel also believes that the duke of Berry, one of the most notable book collectors of the later Middle Ages, possessed the book, but he argues that it came into his possession via Joan's maternal grandmother, Bonne of Luxembourg, who died of the Black Death, like Juana II, within weeks of each other in 1349.139 De Hamel suggests that Berry gifted the book of hours to Joan as an “utterly appropriate” wedding present when she married Henry IV, given the familial link, noting “For a second time, therefore, the prayer ‘intercedas pro me ancilla tua Johanna navarre regina’ [‘intercede for me your servant Johanna, queen of Navarre’] was applicable to its owner, but this time she was a different Joan and was a queen of England instead”.140 As proof of this connection, de Hamel offers both a link in Berry's inventory and the frontispiece inserted into the book which was created by an English artist c. 1420.141 Here he suggests one final familial link, noting that this same artist illuminated the hours of Katherine de Valois, offering the possibility that Joan, in turn, may have gifted the book to her successor and cousin, perhaps even around the time of her own wedding to Joan's stepson Henry V in 1420. While all of these possibilities are intriguing, it is impossible to securely establish the line of transmission here—however, what we can clearly say is that Joan's possession of the book demonstrates the importance of family ties and traditions.
Other books which Joan possessed have even more mystery surrounding how she acquired them—one of them also presents a mystery in terms of its survival, a Sarum rite missal which was “newe covered” in baudkin or baldachin, a very rich silken fabric.142 Given that it was valued at 100 shillings, worth well over £3,000 in modern money, this was clearly a valuable manuscript which may have been similar to a beautifully illuminated contemporary example from early fifteenth-century England, now in a private collection.143 Another richly decorated devotional work Joan possessed is the aforementioned thirteenth-century psalter, which survives in the collection of the John Rylands library—however, how Joan came to possess it or who originally owned the work is unclear. Similarly unclear is the provenance of a fourteenth-century French version of the Roman author Livy's work translated by Pierre Bersuire—this has been widely linked to Joan thanks to her signature in the book, but again her acquisition of the book is unclear.144
While Joan possessed several books which had been previously owned by others and came into her hands as gifts or through purchase, a book which Joan herself may have commissioned is a copy of Jean de Meun's Testament combined with Jean Chapuis’ Les Sept articles de la fois (The Seven Articles of Faith). In the early twentieth century Sydney Cockerell identified Joan as the manuscript's original owner and likely commissioner and also noted that the scribe was probably the famous Nicholas Flamel, whom she may have come into contact with via her uncle the duke of Berry, who had also employed Flamel.145 The manuscript remained at Leeds Castle, one of Joan's own residences where she remained under house arrest for an extended period, from the fifteenth century until it was sold in an estate sale in the early nineteenth century—later owners include William Morris, the book collector Henry Yates Thompson, and Cockerell himself. This devotional work is described as a “spin off” of the highly popular Roman de la Rose, which contemplates moral values and the salvation of the soul in verse.146 Given the contemporary popularity of this work, Joan may have commissioned it in order to have her own copy to add to her personal collection, which would fit nicely with other devotional works and moral treatises that she also possessed.
In sum, Joan's book collection highlights several key elements which tie in with wider observations of her cultural patronage and gifting practices. The importance of Joan's familial ties are clearly stressed here—indeed, the provenance of several of the books discussed demonstrates how Joan, and these objects, acted as a point of connection between the Navarrese and Valois, or paternal and maternal, strands of her family and her marital family in England, who also shared a love of literary works and had important book collections of their own.147 It also demonstrates how Joan acted as a “cultural ambassador” and circulated objects and artwork across borders through her moves from Navarre, to Brittany, and to England, like so many royal women as “young brides (and widows on remarriage) brought their books across regional and national boundaries, often transmitting artistic style, specific content, and ideas”.148 Finally, we can see both Joan's interests and her own hand in the books she acquired and commissioned, with a clear emphasis on texts with family connections and works which stressed moral behaviour and religious devotion, and very literally we can see her own hand in her “ex libris” signatures that she placed in her manuscripts to denote her ownership of the works.
Patronage: Creating an image and leaving a legacy
Patronage was a key means of agency for elite and royal women—it was enabled by both position and wealth, which gave women the means to fund commissions and support artisans and projects which in turn could enhance their image in life and leave a positive legacy after their death. There are many different forms of patronage—in the previous chapter we explored Joan's extensive political patronage and how she used this to create an extensive network at the Breton and English courts and beyond. In the section on piety, we have explored aspects of her religious patronage—while we noted that Joan did not appear to undertake a major project, such as the foundation or significant amelioration of an institution such as a church, chapel, or convent, we have noted her support of clerics in her service and various religious orders. In our examination of her possessions we have engaged with cultural patronage—her collection and commission of books, for example, particularly those with devotional aspects, can be seen as both religious and cultural patronage. Further examples of her cultural patronage can be seen in her gifting and commissioning of works of great aesthetic value such as the Reliquary of the Trinity, now in the Louvre, and the silk covered shield on display at Westminster Abbey.
Another area where we can see a connection to cultural patronage and familial ties is with music. John Dunstable “was the most eminent of an influential group of English composers active in the first half of the fifteenth century”, with around 70 pieces attributed to him, largely works connected with the Mass or liturgical music.149 Royal patronage likely played a key role in his rise—while there is some debate about his ties to Joan's stepson John, duke of Bedford, there are clearer links to Humphrey, duke of Gloucester, and Joan herself. Andrew Wathey and Judith Stell have studied Dunstable's activity and patronage, revealing that the composer had a relationship with Joan which can be traced over about ten years, as he features both in the household records of 1427–28 and is also recorded as an annuitant of the queen, receiving a generous £80 in 1436.150 However, the exact nature of the relationship is not completely clear—Wathey notes that while he was often grouped with the ecclesiastical members of her household, he was given a silver cup worth 78s and a furred scarlet gown of a similar style to her clerks and physicians.151 Nor are there any pieces which Dunstable composed that can be securely linked to Joan or his time under her patronage, although Gillian Gower has made the intriguing suggestion that his works “Gaude sancta Katerina” (“Rejoice Saint Katherine”) and “Gaude felix mater Anna” (“Rejoice fortunate mother Anna”) could have possibly been commissioned by the queen.152 There is more clarity, however, on Dunstable's patronage after Joan's death in 1437, when he transferred into Humphrey of Gloucester's service—Wathey notes that this appears to have been a natural move given Joan and Humphrey's close relationship, his absorption of other members of Joan's household into his own after her death, their shared cultural interests, and association with the abbey at St Albans with which Dunstable also seems to have had a connection.153
Joan's interest in music and musical patronage was likely inspired much earlier, however, during her childhood in the Navarrese court. María Narbona Cárceles has noted that Joan's father, Carlos II, “was characterised by his love of music” and patronised Guillaume de Machaut and other musicians and composers—Joan's brother Carlos III shared this interest in music and was also an active patron.154 Thus, while the evidence of Joan's musical patronage is not completely secure, we can see a clear link to John Dunstable, one of the most important composers in England during this period, and a pattern of musical and cultural patronage in Joan's natal and marital families which would have encouraged and enabled her to do likewise.
Tombs: Joan's role as patron and a “shaper of memory”
A final aspect of Joan's patronage to consider, which incorporates both cultural and religious aspects, was her role in the commissioning of tombs. Joan survived two husbands, giving her the opportunity as a widow to become, as Diane Booton put it, “a shaper of memory” by crafting both men's tombs—including the tomb that she ultimately shared with Henry IV at Canterbury Cathedral.155 This section will examine Joan's role as a “shaper of memory” in the crafting of both tombs, which she used as an opportunity to not only ensure the legacy of her two husbands but of her marital and natal dynasty and enshrine her own place as a Navarrese infanta, a Breton duchess, and an English queen. It will begin, however, with a consideration of the first tomb commission which she was connected to, for her first child, Jeanne de Bretagne.
As noted previously, Joan's first marriage to Jean IV of Brittany was certainly successful in terms of producing the much needed heirs to ensure the continuation of the Montfort line with four boys and three girls surviving infancy. Jean IV had been married twice previously with no issue and had spent most of his life fighting the claims of a rival branch of the dynasty, the Penthièvres, to the ducal throne. Yet his first child with Joan, Jeanne de Bretagne, had been a girl who had only survived just over a year before she died in December 1388. Her tomb became a means not only of memorialising a lost child, but a political statement in its design and message, as Jean-Yves Copy has demonstrated in his work on this tomb and its significance.156 Copy notes that Jeanne's tomb was deeply connected to the ongoing threat of the Penthièvres as alternative successors and rivals to the Montfort line—for this to endure according to the agreement in the Treaty of Guérande, it was imperative that Jean IV have a male heir. The birth of a girl and her rapid demise, coupled with the concurrent release of Jean de Penthièvre and his marriage to Marguerite de Clisson, intensified the concern over the Montfort succession. Even though Jeanne was theoretically ineligible to be her father's heir to the duchy, on her tomb she wears a crown supported by angels. Copy notes that this quasi-royal iconography can be compared to the tombs of other heirs who were her contemporaries, such as Wladislas of Poland (d.1389) and Charles, the eldest son of Charles VI (d.1386 at 3 months).157 Moreover, the use of a crown in the design not only enhanced Jeanne's status as a potential heir, it also emphasised Jean's own ducal power, putting it on an effective par with royal authority. Finally, a last element which must be considered is that the location of the tomb would also have been carefully chosen and is equally important in terms of the messages that the tomb was meant to send in the short and long term. As mentioned earlier in the chapter, Jeanne's tomb was sited at the church of St Gildas de Rhuys, which was both close to her parents’ favoured residence at Suscinio and had been the burial site of other ducal children. It was also a monastery built by the celebrated quasi-legendary fifth-century king Gradlon, with relics of the saint-king Judicael and other Celtic saints—these ties to great, royal figures of Brittany's past made Jeanne's tomb even more prominent.158 Clearly, given the emphasis on the Montfort political agenda, Jean IV must have been involved in the commission—however, Joan was also likely involved or at least consulted. This experience in creating a tomb and, most importantly, reflecting carefully on the message and image-crafting opportunity that a tomb provides, would become incredibly useful to Joan for two tombs she created for her husbands and herself in later years.
When Jean IV died in 1399, even though he and Joan had a large brood of surviving children including four sons, there was still a very strong threat from the Penthièvres, who had never given up their claim against their Montfort cousins for the right to the ducal coronet. Indeed, as there was a concern that they might try to capitalise on the somewhat tenuous position of the young duke, it was vital for Joan to use image crafting in order to strengthen the position of her son and that of the Montfort line. As noted previously, an excellent example of this was her organisation of an impressive ducal coronation for her son which took place at Rennes in March 1401. As we have seen, Joan used quasi-regal staging of this ceremonial and the opportunity it presented to gather the greatest nobles of the realm together to ensure their support of her son and cement his position as the new duke.
A few days prior to the new duke's coronation, Joan had also held a memorial service for her late husband at Nantes Cathedral.159 This elaborate ceremonial not only demonstrated the queen's piety and respect for Jean IV, but was another element of image crafting to reinforce her son's position by underlining his place as Jean IV's heir and the position of the Montfort dynasty as the rightful ruling house. Nantes Cathedral was both the primary religious seat of the effective ducal capital and the location of Jean IV's burial and eventual tomb. Yet while this might seem to be an obvious location for a ducal burial, there was no central necropolis there or indeed anywhere in the duchy. Instead, as Elizabeth Tingle has noted, the choice of burial site “was an important means of promoting ducal authority against magnate challenges to Montfort lordship and dominion. Thus, in the later fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries, burial occurred in different places of the duchy, to promote ducal legitimacy widely across the province”.160
Perhaps because of this lack of a necropolis or shifting thoughts on where best to place his tomb for the benefit of the Montfort line, Jean IV had been somewhat vague on the desired location—an earlier will had called for a tomb at the Cistercian abbey of Notre-Dame de Prières at Billiers in Moribihan, but a codicil to his will made shortly before his death named Nantes Cathedral as his preferred burial place.161 Nantes would have been a location which Joan would have preferred—not only was it the effective capital of the duchy, but the county of Nantes was a key part of her dower lands and effectively a power base for her, as well as a locus of power for the dynasty. Diane Booton has argued that this shift to Nantes may have been the result of persuasion by Joan and her chaplain, Bernard II du Peyron, bishop of Nantes—she argues that
Joan of Navarre was in a position to persuade the duke. Her engagement in politics on behalf of her husband while he was duke demonstrates that she was strong willed and deeply absorbed in matters of the duchy. Such determined authority no doubt remained during her second marriage in England. The duke's tomb monument therefore could well be seen as a commission by a resolute individual aware of its private association and its broader geo-political overtones.162
However, it was some time before a tomb was erected to serve as a focal point for Jean IV's memory. Following Breton custom to inter the deceased members of their family quickly—normally within 24 hours of their death—Jean had been buried at Nantes Cathedral before the great altar. After the late duke was interred, Joan's initial concern appears to have been on establishing her son's ducal authority and ruling on his behalf before commissioning a memorial for her late husband. Indeed, it appears that this was unfinished business when she decamped to England for her second marriage, as the tomb was commissioned and created there before being sent back to Nantes for installation in 1408.
While it might seem unusual that Joan decided to commission the tomb in England and have it sent back across the Channel to Brittany, there were both practical reasons and potential meanings to having the tomb fashioned in England rather than Brittany. As discussed at length earlier, Joan began secret negotiations with Henry IV for their marriage not long after her first husband's death—even though she did not leave Brittany until the beginning of 1403, Joan may have decided that commissioning the tomb from a French or Breton workshop would mean that she would lose sight and control of the project once she left the duchy.163 Choosing an English workshop for the design and production of the tomb, and alabaster, rather than the limestone or granite often used by Jean IV's predecessors, gave his tomb a different, distinctive feel.164 It also gave it a clearly English feel due to the design which appears to have been modelled on other alabaster tombs of English knights and may even have drawn inspiration from the design for the tomb of Jean's contemporary and relative through his previous marriages, Edward “the Black Prince”.165 Indeed, as we will see, the Black Prince offers an interesting point of connection between both of the tombs in this study.
Moreover, given Jean IV's extensive personal and political links with England, a kingdom where he himself had lived while in exile and visited frequently, this was not stylistically inappropriate.166 Indeed, this choice may have had a more political basis as Kim Woods has argued: “his English tomb would have surely served to visualise the Anglophile leanings of John himself and the continuing alliance between Brittany and England”.167 Yet, ironically perhaps, Joan's second marriage had triggered a period of political discord between England and Brittany, rather than peace—due to a series of skirmishes and ongoing hostilities between the two realms, a safe conduct was issued on 24 February 1408 for three sculptors, Thomas Colyn, Thomas Holewell, and Thomas Poppenhowe, the merchant Jean Guychard, and their party to deliver the tomb on the ship Saint Nicholas of Nantes.168 Ultimately, while no documentation survives to definitively attest to Joan's commission of the tomb, her hand can be clearly seen—as Jean-Yves Copy has noted, the placement, design, and political significance of the tomb were all reflective of Joan and her personality.169
When her second husband Henry IV died in 1413, Joan had experience in commissioning tombs and was again ready to make the most of the opportunity that crafting a royal tomb offered to create a lasting legacy for her kingly husband—and, as we will discuss, for herself. Henry IV finally succumbed to the wasting disease which plagued him for several years and left a will which stipulated that he wished to be buried at Canterbury Cathedral. Canterbury was not an obvious choice for the king's burial—he was the first, and indeed remains, the only king to be buried there. Unlike the situation in Brittany, where there was no consistent necropolis, Westminster Abbey was the location where most of England's medieval kings were buried. Historians have debated why Henry rejected this more obvious location and chose Canterbury instead. Christopher Wilson has suggested that Henry rejected Westminster as the Chapel of St Edward the Confessor was too crowded with tombs to fit his in—yet his son Henry V managed to find space for his own tomb.170 Wilson has alternatively suggested that Henry avoided Westminster over guilt regarding his predecessor, Richard II, whose throne he was accused of usurping. Richard was supposed to be buried at Westminster but his first wife, Anne of Bohemia, had been resting there alone in the joint tomb Richard had commissioned for them. However, Henry IV had buried his cousin at the Dominican friary at Kings Langley instead after Richard died in shady circumstances in early 1400. Ironically, one of the earliest actions of Henry V when he took the throne in 1413 was to move Richard to Westminster Abbey to be with Anne in their joint tomb.
Deborah Codling has suggested Henry sought to create a new royal necropolis at Canterbury for the Lancastrian dynasty—yet none of his successors followed his lead.171 However, two historians, Christopher Wilson and Jon-Mark Grussenmeyer, have made a convincing argument that Henry chose Canterbury very deliberately to associate himself with two important Thomases—his ancestor Thomas of Lancaster and St Thomas Becket. Both of these Thomases had stood up to—and died—opposing tyrannical rule.172 In associating himself with these two figures eternally by choosing to be buried at Canterbury, Henry was making a strong statement that he was a legitimate king who had bravely saved England from the tyranny of Richard II, not a political opportunist who had usurped the place of his cousin. Henry was a king who was both very aware of the perception many had of him as an illegitimate monarch and cognizant too of the power of place to confer authority and legitimacy on his reign—in both life and death.
This second tomb commission was then different in two key respects from the tomb of Jean IV: her second husband had a very clear idea of where he wanted to be buried and this time Joan was not only creating her husband's tomb, but also her own. Double tombs—for both king and queen—were a relatively new tradition in England. Indeed, at the time the only precedent for a joint tomb for a royal couple was the aforementioned example of Henry's predecessor—Richard II and his first wife, Anne of Bohemia, at Westminster Abbey. In a way this tomb was doubly radical—both in its choice of location and in the decision to build a double tomb, rather than follow the long-standing tradition of English medieval kings and queens to be buried separately—sometimes not even in the same location. Moreover, Henry could have decided to be buried with Mary de Bohun, his first wife and the mother of his children, as his father John of Gaunt had chosen to be buried with his first wife, Blanche of Lancaster, rather than his royal wife Constanza of Castile or his beloved mistress, then third wife, Katherine Swynford. Yet Henry had not asked to be buried with Mary, nor indeed specifically with Joan, in his will—he had only asked “to be beryed in the chirch at Caunterbury, aftyr the descrecion of my cousin the Archbythcopp of Canterbury”.173 Indeed, Henry left the Archbishop, Thomas Arundel, a great deal of scope, saying only that he wanted to establish a chantry chapel for Masses for his soul, but in terms of his burial he only instructed that it should be “in soch a plase and aftyr soch ordinaunce as it seemeth best to my aforseyd cousin of Canterbury”.
However, Thomas Arundel, the archbishop, died in 1414, only a year after Henry, and the tomb had not yet been built, not even, it appears, commissioned or designed, as the evidence indicates that the tomb was installed in the 1420s or possibly the early 1430s. This gave Joan the opportunity to take the reins of the project and shape it in a way that not only spoke to her husband's desire to project majesty and legitimacy, but reinforced her own dynastic background and her role as his queen. While we cannot say with complete certainty that Joan designed the tomb, due to a lack of records, her own prominence in the design certainly suggests that she had control of the commission or at least a great deal of input.174 Jessica Barker in her book Stone Fidelity notes that there are three major identities which are the focus of the tomb's design—Henry's identity as king, their joint identity as a ruling couple, and Joan's identity as not only queen, but as infanta of Navarre and duchess of Brittany.175 This chimes with the observations of John Carmi Parsons on how the tombs of medieval queens provided an ideal means to “celebrate their capacity to exploit the connections acquired in their lives” by denoting their maternal and paternal ancestry and the titles and positions that they held in their lifetimes.176
Figure 7.1 The tomb of Henry IV and Joan of Navarre at Canterbury Cathedral
Source: © Angelo Hornak/Alamy Stock Photo.
The tomb chest itself is fashioned from English alabaster, a material which Kim Woods notes was a popular choice for royal and elite tombs in the later Middle Ages due to its “lustre and translucency”.177 Moreover alabaster was closely associated with the Lancastrian dynasty—it had been used for John of Gaunt and for the tombs of other Lancastrian supporters and, conveniently, the two greatest quarries for the stone in England were on Lancastrian lands at Tutbury and Chellaston.178 Both Henry and Joan have splendid effigies which again project majesty—both are richly dressed and depicted wearing crowns and both were originally holding sceptres, although this—and their hands, have now been lost. Several angels can be seen on the tomb, holding the pillows upon which the king and queen's effigies rest and holding shields on the tomb canopy, although not all of these survive. While tomb depictions were often idealised, it is possible that these effigies have attempted to depict the royal couple in a reasonably accurate and life-like fashion. A few clues suggest this—first is that, as will be discussed shortly, there appeared to be a reasonable resemblance between Henry's well-preserved corpse and his effigy when his tomb was opened in the nineteenth century. Another possible clue may be in the respective size of the royal pair—Joan is depicted as considerably smaller than Henry. While this may be in part a reflection of his masculinity and royal status, effigies on joint tombs often feature figures of roughly equal size, such as those of Joan's relatives Jeanne d’Evreux and Charles IV of France or her predecessors Richard II and Anne of Bohemia, yet Joan looks very petite in comparison to her husband, which may reflect a diminutive stature in life.179
Alabaster was also the chosen material for the joint tomb of Joan's brother Carlos III of Navarre and his wife Leonor de Trastámara in Pamplona Cathedral. Interestingly, Carlos and Joan may have been designing their respective joint tombs at the same time—the Flemish sculptor Jehan Lome of Tournai was working for Carlos in Navarre between 1413 and 1419. While we cannot be as precise about the commission and manufacture of Joan and Henry's tomb due to a lack of surviving evidence, the likely installation period of the 1420s or early 1430s means that Joan may have started work on her own shared tomb at a similar time, given that Henry passed in 1413. Alternatively, if she started her commission after her brother's, it is possible that there was some influence or connection—this may have been tenuous as Joan never returned to Pamplona to visit her brother or view his tomb, but as we know that Joan maintained contact with her Navarrese family, it is likely that she was at least aware of the project. Certainly, there are some similarities in terms of material and the basic design of both tombs, which feature the couple recumbent on cushions under gothic canopies with crowns on their heads and animals at their feet. However, this similarity likely owes more to contemporary trends in tomb design than any direct influence from one sibling to another. While alabaster was, as Barker and others have noted, “a Lancastrian stone”, it was also popular for tombs, altarpieces, and other sculptural works across Northern Europe and in Iberia at the time, thus again their shared choice of alabaster may not have signalled a conscious choice to create similar tombs.180
Even if we cannot demonstrate any concrete evidence of shared inspiration between the siblings’ commissions, the design of the wider tomb installation at Canterbury visually attests to Joan's connections with her Navarrese family. This can be clearly seen on the wooden canopy or tester above the tomb, which is arguably even more interesting than the tomb itself because of the significant symbols and the messages that they send to the viewer. It is easily missed in focusing on the tomb chest itself, but the underside of the tester is colourfully painted with significant heraldic designs on a rich blue background. There are three shields on the canopy—one with England's arms, one with Navarre's, and one with the two merged or “impaled” together, representing their individual royal status and celebrating the union of their two houses. Each shield is ringed with a Lancastrian SS collar—and as noted previously, Joan's effigy on the tomb wears an SS collar, perhaps a representation of the one that Henry gave her when they wed.
On the canopy are also Henry's motto “Soverayne” and Joan's “A temperance”. In his book The Fears of Henry IV, Ian Mortimer discusses the meaning of Henry's motto, which he links to the Lancastrian SS collar. There are multiple potential meanings of “soverayne”—however, Mortimer argues that it shouldn’t be seen as linked to the word “sovereign”, rather that it is a shortened form of “souveignez vous de moi” or “remember me”.181 Joan's motto of “A temperance” is less clear, but a dictionary from the seventeenth century defined the French word “temperance” (which would have been Joan's point of reference as a French speaker) as “temperance, moderation, sobriety—the mean between the extremities of appetite, and affection”.182 Temperance, this idea of self-control and resistance to excess or temptation, was one of the seven virtues (the opposite of the more familiar seven deadly sins) and was stressed both in the Bible and by the classical philosopher Aristotle as the basis for virtuous behaviour.183
Also on the canopy are two key symbols—the crowned eagle and the ermine. The crowned eagle has been linked back to the Holy Oil of St Thomas, which Henry was anointed with—again linking him back to St Thomas Becket and a prophecy that a great king would be anointed with this oil who would be a champion of the Church—perhaps even reclaiming the Holy Land.184 Deborah Codling has suggested that the hands on Henry's effigy on the tomb, which are now lost, originally clasped an eagle: “According to Walsingham, the note accompanying the oil stated that as long as the king carried the eagle at his chest he would have victory over his enemies and his kingdom would grow and flourish. Henry in death, as in life, appears still to be optimistically clutching his eagle”.185 The symbol of the crowned eagle was clearly important to Henry—there was a subtlety in the menu for Henry and Joan's wedding feast at Winchester which was fashioned in the same design. A painted panel at the head of the tomb depicted the martyrdom of St Thomas Becket to further emphasise the link to the saint.
At the foot of the tomb there was another painted panel with the Coronation of the Virgin—which can be connected with the importance of Marian devotion in the late Middle Ages and has a strong link to medieval queenship—particularly celebrating Mary's role as the Queen of Heaven. The ermine, which one might immediately think of as a symbol of royalty, in this case more likely refers to Joan's Breton connections—the Order of the Ermine was a chivalric order begun by her first husband, Jean IV of Brittany, modelled on the English Order of the Garter. Indeed, on Jean IV's tomb he wears the collar of the order around his neck, and the motto of the order “A ma vie” appears in a banderole held by a lion at the duke's feet.186 Ermines continue—even today—to be a key element of Breton heraldry, thus Joan's position as infanta, duchess, and queen are all clearly referenced on the canopy—another strong case for her hand in the design.
Nor was she the only female patron of a joint alabaster tomb from the workshop of Prentys and Sutton, the most likely candidate for the artisans who produced the tomb. Jessica Barker has compared Joan and Henry's tomb with that of two other tombs commissioned by women which the workshop produced at a similar time (c. 1415–20), that of Beatrice of Portugal and Thomas Fitzalan, earl of Arundel, at the Fitzalan chapel at Arundel Castle, and the tomb of Katherine Clifton and Ralph Green, sheriff of Northamptonshire and Wiltshire.187 Barker has noted that another key similarity between these tombs is the fact that Beatrice, Katherine, and Joan were all involved in some difficulty over their dowers during their widowhood and that commissioning a tomb with their late husband was a way to make a powerful statement of permanent connection to their spouse and marital family. Certainly, as we have seen, this was the case for Joan—arguably for both of the tombs that she commissioned. With Jean IV, commissioning his tomb and sending it back from England after she remarried was a physical means of displaying her continued connection to the Montforts and Brittany at a time when there was some question of whether she should still be able to claim her Breton dower after her second marriage. After Henry IV's death, commissioning a joint tomb with her royal husband was a means of eternally cementing her position as his queen consort and her connection to him. We know that Joan faced a continual issue with her English dower as dowager, which was particularly acute during the period of seizure and during the reign of Henry VI.
This raises the question again of when the tomb may have been commissioned. Barker has rightly noted that this must have been done at a period when Joan had full access to her funds—so clearly it would not have been commissioned between late 1419 and 1422 when she was under detention. It is possible that it was set in motion earlier, after the death of the archbishop in 1414 but before mid-1419, and was possibly put on hold during the period when her dower was seized, unless Henry V was willing for the tomb to be paid for by the Crown during this period. Yet there is no clear evidence of payments for the tomb in her accounts from her period of detention which have survived, nor in the accounts of 1427–28. Thus it seems there are three possible periods when it could have been commissioned and paid for by Joan: 1414–19, 1422–27, or 1429–37. All three periods may have had similar motivations—in her early widowhood, this would have been a means of trying to emphasise her link to the late king and preserve her queenly status. Immediately after the period of detention, Joan might have used the commission to reassert herself as a queen and enhance her position, which may have been tarnished. In both the 1420s and 1430s, she was fighting vociferously to regain and retain her dower in both England and Brittany. Without clear evidence, we cannot make a certain presumption of when the tomb was commissioned, but her impetus for the creation of the tomb would certainly fit with Barker's suggestion that it was a key tool for a widow to use when her position and dower were under threat, and perhaps Joan's ultimate opportunity for image creation and the “shaping of memory”.
Yet while Joan made impressive efforts to enshrine the majesty and memory of both husbands—and her own—for later generations, there is a brief postscript to this tale regarding the impact that later generations had on these two tombs. In the eighteenth century, the tomb of Jean IV was damaged first by vandals supporting a movement for Breton independence and then by renovations at Nantes Cathedral in 1733 which moved the altar and damaged the monument further. Any remaining elements of the tomb appear to have been lost in the sacking of the cathedral during the French Revolution, although some remnants were found in restoration work on the cathedral in 1888.188 Across the Channel in England in 1832 there was a decision to open Henry and Joan's tomb to challenge the suggestion in a near contemporary source that Henry's body had fallen into the Thames en route to Canterbury in a freak storm and thus had never been buried there. However, when they did open the tomb they found a smaller lead coffin, presumably Joan's, which they set aside as they were only interested in solving the mystery around Henry's body. They did find a body in his coffin, however, and when they opened up the wrapped shrouding of the king's corpse, “to the astonishment of all present, the face of the deceased King was seen in complete preservation”.189 The observers noted that the king had a thick, russet-coloured beard and nearly all his teeth, but his nose sunk and then disappeared when exposed to the air. Satisfied that the king was indeed buried in the tomb and not wanting presumably to do further damage to his body, they rewrapped him and replaced the lid of his coffin, and presumably Joan's lead coffin as well (although this is not specifically noted) and resealed the tomb.
In summary, this study of three tombs linked to Joan has demonstrated two key aspects: her role as a “shaper of memory” in the creation of tombs for her first child and both of her husbands, as well as the ways in which these tombs serve as a point of comparison and connection between her Navarrese, Breton, and English families. Politics and position were key drivers in all three scenarios—reinforcing the right of the Montfort line in Brittany in terms of the tomb of the young Jeanne and Jean IV and in the timing of the commission and imagery of her joint tomb with Henry IV. All of the tombs were located in sites imbued with meaning—while Jean likely chose St Gildas de Rhuys for its ancient Breton links for the tomb of their first child, Joan may have had some influence on the choice of Nantes for Jean's own tomb, a city that was part of her own power base in the duchy. In contrast, we can see Henry IV's desires and ideology in the choice of their shared tomb at Canterbury Cathedral—the seat of the church in England but not the primary royal necropolis. However, the famous Black Prince is buried there, offering another connection between the two tombs as a possible inspiration for the design of Jean IV's tomb and a man to whom both Jean and Henry shared personal links. Connections can also be seen between Brittany and England in Joan's decision to create an English tomb for Jean IV which reflected both his own political and personal connection to England during his lifetime and the enduring tie that Joan provided between the two realms after her marriage and move across the Channel. Finally, we can see connections between Joan's shared tomb in Canterbury Cathedral and that of her brother and sister-in-law in Pamplona in their material and design as well as the heraldic devises that Joan used to emphasise her Navarrese lineage. Taken together, these tombs demonstrate the power of patronage for Joan to reinforce the status of the Montfort dynasty as the rightful rulers of Brittany and shape not only the memory of her two husbands but her own distinctive position as a Navarrese infanta, a Breton duchess, and an English queen.
Conclusion
Looking back at this chapter as a whole, we can see the importance of places, spaces, and material culture in terms of both how Joan exercised her position as duchess, queen, and dowager, the maintenance of her familial networks and her day-to-day life. We began by examining the wide range of places she inhabited, considering the residences she lived in with her two husbands, as well as those which she personally favoured from her portfolio of dower properties. This gives us a sense of where she lived, the spaces that Joan, her family, and her household inhabited, and the features that were built or improved in order to make them comfortable and suitably impressive for her exalted status. We have also looked at her use of ecclesiastical spaces, from her own private chapels to stays at monasteries during her travels around the realm, which led us to a wider consideration of Joan's relationship with the church and her personal piety. Aspects of piety could also be seen in Joan's possessions, from jewellery with religious motifs to bejewelled liturgical items for celebrating Mass in her chapel, as well as in gifts she commissioned and exchanged with relatives, such as books and the Reliquary of the Trinity given to her son Jean V. We have also seen the importance of gift exchange and material culture in terms of maintaining Joan's familial networks and in establishing and enhancing her position. Patronage, as well, has proven to be another means of ameliorating her position by crafting her image and acting as a “shaper of memory” for both herself and her natal and marital dynasties. In our conclusion to follow, we will consider Joan's memory and how effective her efforts proved to be in terms of creating a lasting legacy.
Notes
- See Elena Woodacre, Queens and Queenship (Bradford: ARC Humanities Press, 2021), especially chapter 3, “Image,” 87–120.
- For example, see Tracy Chapman Hamilton and Mariah Proctor-Tiffany, eds., Moving Women, Moving Objects (400–1500) (Leiden: Brill, 2019).
- CPR Henry IV, II, 28 November 1404, 479.
- Marie Casset commented that this demonstrated “sans doute le goût des ducs pour cette région si douce à vivre”: Marie Casset, “Manoirs de plaisance des ducs de Bretagne XIIIe–XVe siècle,” in Châteaux & Modes de vie au temps des ducs de Bretagne (XIIIe–XVIe siècle), eds. Alain Salamagne, Jean Kerhervé, and Gérard Danet (Rennes: Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2012), 169.
- Jean-Pierre Leguay, Histoire de Vannes et de sa Region (Toulouse: Privat, 1988), 62–4.
- Argentré's quote from Marc Deceneux, “Le chateau de l’Hermine a Vannes: Residence des Ducs de Bretagne,” Association Bretonne 87 (1978): 58; Casset, “Manoirs de plaisance,” 165.
- Leguay, Histoire de Vannes, 70.
- See Jean-Christophe Cassard, “Suscinio et les chasses des ducs de Bretagne,” in Châteaux & Modes de vie au temps des ducs de Bretagne (XIIIe–XVIe siècle), eds. Alain Salamagne, Jean Kerhervé, and Gérard Danet (Rennes: Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2012), 121–49, particularly the map of the park on 123.
- Cassard, “Suscinio,” 138. See also Jean-Yves Copy, Art, Société et Politique au temps des Ducs de Bretagne; Les gisants haut-Bretons (Paris: Aux Amateurs de Livres, 1986), 106–10.
- Anthony Emery, Seats of Power in Europe During the Hundred Years War: An Architectural Study from 1330–1480 (Oxford: Oxbow, 2016), 105.
- For more on the tiles, see several chapters in Alain Salamagne, Jean Kerhervé, and Gérard Danet, eds. Châteaux et modes de vie au temps des ducs de Bretagne (XIIIe–XVIe siècle) (Rennes: Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2012), including Patrick André, “Le pavement médieval de Suscinio: bilan, conjectures et perspectives,” 283–88.
- Chris Given-Wilson, Henry IV (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2016), 389.
- Deborah Codling, “The Kingly Style of Henry IV: Personality, Politics and Culture” (PhD thesis, Royal Holloway, 2004), 144.
- Codling, “Kingly Style,” 113.
- John Priestley, Eltham Palace (Stroud: History Press, 2013), 41–5.
- Priestley, Eltham Palace, 48–9.
- Given-Wilson, Henry IV, 389–90.
- Priestley, Eltham Palace, 47; King's Works, I, 248; King's Works, II, 935.
- See Jeanne E. Krochalis, “The Books and Reading of Henry V and His Circle,” The Chaucer Review 23, no. 1 (1988): 50–77, particularly 55.
- Priestley, Eltham Palace, 48.
- Codling, “Kingly Style,” 118.
- CPR Henry V, I, 30 June 1415, 351; SC 8/308/15366.
- CPR Henry V, I, 30 June 1415, 342.
- CPR Henry IV, IV, 23 February and 16 May 1411, 283, 298, and 304.
- CPR Henry V, II, 1 August 1420, 301; CPR Henry V, I, 18 March 1416, 401; ADLA E130 dated 1 July 1418 at Kings Langley.
- John Amundesham, Annales Monasterii S.Albani, vol. 1, ed. Henry Thomas Riley (London: Longmans Green and Co, 1870), 16.
- SAL/MS/216; Amundesham, Annales, 13–14, 28.
- King's Works, II, 975. John Steane, The Archaeology of the Medieval English Monarchy (London: Routledge, 1999), 104–6.
- Lionel M. Munby, ed., The History of Kings Langley (Kings Langley branch of the Worker's Educational Association, 1963), 15 and 18.
- CPR Henry VI, I, 12 July 1426, 360–61.
- Munby, Kings Langley, 19.
- Amundesham, Annales, 61–2.
- King's Works, II, 977.
- King's Works, II, 956.
- CPR Henry V, I, 10 March 1414, 168; King's Works, II, 702.
- H.E. Malden, ed., “House of Benedictine Monks: Abbey of Chertsey,” in A History of the County of Surrey, vol. 2 (London: Victoria County History, 1967), 55–64.
- CPR Henry IV, IV, 29 April 1410, 190, and 8 November 1412, 448.
- “Lateran Regesta 203: 1418–1419,” in Papal Registers, 7, 125–31.
- CPR Henry VI, II, 21 November 1433, 328, and III, 16 February 1437, 38.
- William Page and J. Horace Round, eds., “Houses of Cistercian Monks: Abbey of Stratford Langthorne,” in A History of the County of Essex, vol. 2 (London: Victoria County History, 1907), 129–133; Given-Wilson, Henry IV, 545.
- Woodacre, Queens and Queenship, 18–20.
- See chapter 5 “Queenship and Pre-Reformation Piety,” in Michelle Beer, Queenship at the Renaissance Courts of Britain: Catherine of Aragon and Margaret Tudor, 1503–1533 (Woodbridge: Royal Historical Society, 2018), 122–48.
- Elena Woodacre, The Queens Regnant of Navarre: Succession, Politics and Partnership, 1274–1512 (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013), 100–1.
- Laura Slater, “Defining Queenship at Greyfriars London, c. 1300–58,” Gender & History 27, no. 1 (2015): 53–76.
- Michael Jones, ed., Le premier inventaire du tresor des chartes des ducs de Bretagne (1395); Herve Le Grant et les origines du Chronicon Briocense (Bannalec: Imprimerie Regionale, 2007), 43; Nelly Ongay, “Notas Sobre la Vida Cotidiana de las Infantas Reales en los ‘Hospitales’ del Reino de Navarra (1365–1400): Alimentos, Vestidos, Religiosidad y Viajes,” Estudios de Historia de España 17, no. 1 (2015): 67.
- “Lateran Regesta 165: 1412–1413,” in Papal Registers 6, 372–387; “Lateran Regesta 350: 1437–1438,” in Papal Registers 6, 626–33.
- Helen Maurer and B.M. Cron, eds., The Letters of Margaret of Anjou (Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 2019), 17.
- E210/4175.
- “Lateran Regesta 136: 1409,” in Papal Registers 6, 149–60.
- CPR Henry IV, III, 30 July 1407, 348.
- CPR Henry VI, I, 15 December 1426, 388.
- CPR Henry VI, I, 11 July 1428, 486.
- “Lateran Regesta 167: 1413–1415,” in Papal Registers 6, 397–410; “Lateran Regesta 306: 1431–1432,” in Papal Registers 8, 353–366.
- “Lateran Regesta 118: 1403–1404,” in Papal Registers 5, 616–627; ADLA E38-1, 5 October 1387.
- “Lateran Regesta 326: 1431–1434,” in Papal Registers 8, 510–516.
- “Lateran Regesta 167: 1413–1415,” in Papal Registers 6, 397–410. I would like to thank Dr Angela Clark for her input on the link between requests for dispensations and affirmations of royal status.
- ADLA 37-2, 15 August 1386.
- Copy, Art, Société et Politique, 107.
- Morice, I, col. 86–87; Michael Jones, “Between France and England: Jeanne de Navarre, Duchess of Brittany and Queen of England (1386–1437),” in Between France and England: Politics, Power and Society in Late Medieval Brittany (Aldershot: Variorum, 2003), 10.
- J. de Kersauson de Pennendreff, L’episcopat Nantais a travers les siècles (Vannes: Lafoyle Éditeur, 1892), 704.
- PROME, “Henry IV: January 1404.”
- Amundesham, Annales, 16.
- Leeds Castle E4/1, John Rylands Library Latin MS238, f. 25v.
- SoA SAL/MS/216, fol. 34.
- SoA SAL/MS/216, fols. 45 and 56.
- I am very grateful to Professor Chris Woolgar for his insightful thoughts on the account book and raising alternative scenarios other than a simple gift from Joan to Eleanor.
- Jones, “Between France and England,” 21.
- Brigitte Buettner, “Past Presents: New Year's Gifts at the Valois Court, ca. 1400,” Art Bulletin 83 (2001): 598.
- Jenny Stratford, Richard II and the English Royal Treasure (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2013), 229.
- Stratford, Royal Treasure, 176.
- Marguerite Keane, Material Culture and Queenship in 14th-Century France: The Testament of Blanche of Navarre (Leiden: Brill, 2016), 102–3.
- Stratford, Royal Treasure, 343.
- Stratford, Royal Treasure, 119.
- Stratford, Royal Treasure, 279. See also E101/404/18 m.7.
- Jessica Lutkin, “Luxury and Display in Silver and Gold at the Court of Henry IV,” in English and Continental Perspectives: The Fifteenth Century 9, ed. Linda Clark (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2010), 168.
- Richard Barber, Magnificence: Princely Splendour in the Middle Ages (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2020), 3.
- Codling, “Kingly Style,” 126.
- Stratford, Royal Treasure, 164.
- Stratford, Royal Treasure, 146.
- Stratford, Royal Treasure, 121.
- Jean Kerhervé, L’état Breton aux 14e et 15e siècles; Les Ducs, l’Argent et les Hommes. 2 vols (Paris: Editeur Maloine, 1987), 304 n187.
- E403/576, m. 21. See also Frederick Devon, ed., Issues of Exchequer being a collection of payments made out of His Majesty's Revenue, from King Henry III to King Henry VI inclusive with an appendix (London: John Murray, 1837), 294–95.
- Ronald W. Lightbown, Mediaeval European Jewellery with a catalogue of the collection in the Victoria & Albert Museum (London: Victoria and Albert Museum, 1992), 248–49.
- Lutkin, “Luxury and Display,” 164.
- Codling, “Kingly Style,” 126; E403/576, m. 19.
- Lightbown, Medieval Jewellery, 216.
- Francis Palgrave, ed., The Ancient Kalendars and Inventories of the Treasury of His Majesty's Exchequer, II, (London: Commissioners of the Public Records, 1836), 253–54.
- POPC 5, 1436, 61.
- CPR Henry V, II, 16 August 1419, 271.
- A.R. Myers, Crown, Household, and Parliament in Fifteenth Century England (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 1985), 128. Note that Myers has given a full transcription of both existing versions of this inventory on pages 128–33.
- See Stratford, Royal Treasure, for a discussion of an image of St Catherine given to the king of England by the duke of Berry, 339. I would like to thank Marguerite Keane for her suggestion of the potential personal links between these saints and Joan.
- Leeds Castle E4/1, 11.
- Jones, “Between France and England,” 21, referring to SoA SAL/MS/216 fols. 19r, 28v, 32r.
- Leeds Castle E4/1, 7.
- Leeds Castle E4/1, 13–14.
- The building in which Joan's wardrobe was housed had previously belonged to the earl of Northumberland and had been given to Joan when the Percys’ possessions were forfeited by treason (CPR Henry IV, III, 22 July 1405, 34), but there was a later dispute over the rights to the property (CPR Henry VI, III, 17 December 1435, 530–1). For later reference to the property's location and denomination as “Queen Jane's Wardrobe,” see Christopher Hibbert, Ben Weinreb, Julia Keay, and John Keay, eds., The London Encyclopaedia (3rd ed.) (London: Pan Macmillan, 2011), 15; John Strype, A Survey of the Cities of London and Westminster (1720), The Stuart London Project, https://www.dhi.ac.uk/strype/TransformServlet?page=book3_112.
- Leeds Castle E/4, 10-12 and E 101/407/4.
- Elizabeth Currie, Fashion and Masculinity in Renaissance Florence (London: Bloomsbury, 2016), 101.
- Caroline Dunn, “All the Queen's Ladies? Philippa of Hainault's Female Attendants,” Medieval Prosopography 31 (2016): 203–4.
- E101/407/4, also reprinted in A.R. Myers, “The Captivity of a Royal Witch: The Household Accounts of Queen Joan of Navarre, 1419–21,” Bulletin of the John Rylands Library 24, no. 2 (1940): 284.
- Stratford, Royal Treasure, 170.
- Isabelle Balandre, “Reliquaire de l’Ordre du Saint-Esprit ‘Tableau de la Trinité,’” The Louvre website, accessed 27 November 2021, https://collections.louvre.fr/en/ark:/53355/cl010111574.
- Morice, II, col. 1161–64. Note: also mentioned here are two large silver platters which his sisters brought back from England.
- Diane E. Booton, “Commemorating Duke John IV of Brittany in Ritual and Image,” Nottingham Medieval Studies 59 (2015): 171.
- Morice, II, col. 1163.
- Council of the London and Middlesex Archaeological Society, A Catalogue of the Antiquities and Works of Art Exhibited at Ironmongers’ Hall, London (London: Harrison and Sons, 1869), 146–47.
- Maev Kennedy, “Henry V's Funeral Shield on Show,” The Guardian, UK News (Museums/Higher Education/Arts), 22 September 2003, https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2003/sep/22/artsandhumanities.arts.
- CCR Henry V, I, 20 July 1418, 468–69.
- E. Fonssagrives, Les Trois femmes de Jean IV; conference donnée à la Société Polymathique du Morbihan le 10 Avril 1923 (Vannes: Imprimerie du Commerce, 1923), 15; CCR Henry V, I, 20 July 1418, 472.
- Saint-Denys, I, 725.
- Foedera 8, 1 March 1403.
- Keane, Blanche of Navarre, 180.
- Keane, Blanche of Navarre, 182.
- Keane, Blanche of Navarre, 183.
- Catálogo XXXI, no. 259, 8 May 1414.
- Susan Groag Bell, “Medieval Women Book Owners: Arbiters of Lay Piety and Ambassadors of Culture,” Signs 7, no. 4 (1982): 743.
- Mariah Proctor-Tiffany, Medieval Art in Motion: The Inventory and Gift-Giving of Queen Clémence de Hongrie (University Park, PA: Penn State Press, 2019), 101. For more on the practice of reading to others, see D.H. Green, Women Readers in the Middle Ages (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 15–22.
- Joni M. Hand, Women, Manuscripts and Identity in Northern Europe, 1350–1550 (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2013), 12. On Juana II, see Julia Finch, “Of Movement, Monarchs, and Manuscripts: The Case for Jeanne II of Navarre's Picture Bible as a Geopolitical Bridge between Paris and Pamplona,” in Moving Women, Moving Objects (400–1500), eds. Tracy Chapman Hamilton and Mariah Proctor-Tiffany (Leiden: Brill, 2019), 181–204; Marguerite Keane, “Louis IX, Louis X, Louis of Navarre: Family Ties and Political Ideology in the Hours of Jeanne of Navarre,” Visual Resources 20, no. 2–3 (2004): 237–52.
- Proctor-Tiffany, Medieval Art in Motion, 80 and 98–9.
- Anon., “Notes and News,” Bulletin of The John Rylands Library Manchester 46, no. 1 (1963): 1.
- Léopold Delisle, “Notice sur un psautier du XIIIe siècle appartenant au comte de Crawford,” Bibliothèque de l'école des chartes 58 (1897): 389–90.
- An excellent surviving example is Joan's letter to the king of Aragon, dated 13 February 1413, Archivo de la Corona de Aragón (ACA), COLECCIONES, Autógrafos, I, 7, I, accessed via PARES.
- Jones, “Between France and England,” 1. Anne Crawford repeats the same claim as Mary Anne Everett Wood that Joan's signature is the first recorded example for an English queen on a letter: Anne Crawford, ed., Letters of the Queens of England (Stroud: Sutton, 1997), 115; Mary Anne Everett Wood, ed., Letters of Royal and Illustrious Ladies of Great Britain (London: Henry Colburn, 1846), 89.
- Anon., Bible historiale Moyenne complete (late 14th century), BnF ms. Français 2; there is an unusual example of her signature which is almost calligraphic on folio 465 verso “La R. Jahanne. Tout dyz bien” and a partially erased note on folio 511 “Jeanne, royne d’Engleterre, ducesse de Bretagne, fille de roy de Navarre”. Titus Livius, A Urbe condita, translated into French by Pierre Bersuire (c. 1380), BnF ms Français 269–72; her signature “Jahanne royne” is on the bottom of folio 134 in volume 4 (ms 272).
- Jean de Meun, Le testament maistre Jehan de Mehun, (c. 1400), Houghton Library MS Typ 749. The examples are on folios 1r, 46r, and 80v.
- Finch, “Of Movement,” 181.
- Proctor-Tiffany, Medieval Art in Motion, 131.
- Keane, Blanche of Navarre, 102–3.
- BnF, “Français 2”, Archives et Manuscripts, https://archivesetmanuscrits.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/cc485382.
- BnF ms fr 2, Bible historiale, f. 511, “Le dixiesme jour de septembre, l’an mil quatre cens vingt et sept, fut cest livre donné a tres hault et tres puissant prince Humfrey, duc de Gloucestre, conte de Haynnau, Hollande et protecteur etc, deffenseur d’Engleterre, par sir Jehan Stanley, chevalier, ledit prince estant en l’abbaye Nostre Dame a Chestre”.
- Anon. (Durand de Champagne), Le Livre qui est appellé le Miroer des dames, que fist ung Frere de l’ordre Saint François (15th century), BnF ms Français 610. Note: this is only one of a dozen surviving copies of the French translation which have survived; see Constant J. Mews, “The Speculum dominarum (Miroir des dames) and Transformations of the Literature of Instruction for Women in the Early Fourteenth Century,” in Virtue Ethics for Women, 1250–1500, eds. Karen Green and Constant J. Mews (New York: Springer, 2011), 22.
- BnF ms Français 610, folio 1r.
- Mews, “Transformations,” 23.
- Keane, Blanche of Navarre, 95 and 209.
- Mews, “Transformations,” 30.
- Keane, “Family Ties,” 238.
- Woodacre, Queens Regnant, 51–61.
- Keane, Blanche of Navarre, 94–5 and 207.
- Christopher de Hamel, Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts (London: Penguin, 2016), 412–13.
- De Hamel, Meetings, 414–15.
- De Hamel, Meetings, 417 (see also an illustration of the frontispiece on p. 416).
- Myers, Crown, Household and Parliament, 131.
- See Anon., Missal for Selected Feasts (use of Sarum), In Latin, illuminated manuscript on parchment, England (London), 1400–1425 (before 1423?), https://www.textmanuscripts.com/medieval/sarum-missal-141427.
- Note: Joan's possession of the book, while widely noted due to her signature, is disputed by some; see Scot McKendrick, “A European Heritage: Books of Continental Origin collected by the English Royal Family from Edward III to Henry VIII,” in Royal Manuscripts: The Genius of Illumination, eds. Scot McKendrick, John Lowden, and Kathleen Doyle (London: British Library, 2011), 64 n27.
- Anon., A Catalogue of an Exhibition of the Philip Hofer Bequest in the Department of Printing and Graphic Arts (Cambridge, MA: Harvard College Library, 1988), 22.
- Laure Miolo, “Medieval Spin-Offs of the Roman de la Rose,” Medieval Manuscripts Blog, British Library, 9 January 2017, https://blogs.bl.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2017/01/medieval-spin-offs-of-the-roman-de-la-rose.html. Miolo notes the disputed authorship of these works which were attributed to Meun, but Christine de Pizan suggested that this was a false link.
- Krochalis, “Henry V and His Circle,” 50–77.
- Groag Bell, “Medieval Women Book Owners,” 767. See also Tracy Chapman Hamilton and Mariah Proctor-Tiffany, “Introduction: Women and the Circulation of Material Culture: Crossing Boundaries and Connecting Spaces,” in Moving Women, Moving Objects, eds. Tracy Chapman Hamilton and Mariah Proctor-Tiffany (Leiden: Brill, 2019), 1–12.
- Margaret Bent, “Dunstable (Dunstable), John,” ODNB online.
- See Andrew Wathey, “Dunstable in France,” Music & Letters 67, no. 1 (1986): 1–36; Judith Stell and Andrew Wathey, “New Light on the Biography of John Dunstable?,” Music & Letters 62, no. 1 (1981): 60–3.
- Wathey, “Dunstable in France,” 6.
- Gillian Gower, “The Iconography of Queenship: Sacred Music and Female Exemplarity in Late Medieval Britain” (PhD thesis, UCLA, 2016), 241.
- Wathey, “Dunstable in France,” 23 and 28.
- María Narbona Cárceles, “La actividad musical en la corte de Carlos III de Navarra, 1387–1425: mecenazgo o estrategia politica?”, Principe de Viana 67, no. 238 (2006): 315.
- Booton, “Commemorating,” 157.
- See Jean-Yves Copy, “Du nouveau sure la couronne ducale bretonne: le temoignage des tombeaux,” Memoires de la Societe d’Histoire et d’Archeologie de Bretagne 59 (1982): 171–91, and Art, Société et Politique, 106–10.
- Copy, “Couronne ducale bretonne,” 173.
- Copy, “Couronne ducale bretonne,” 186.
- Chronicon Briconese in Morice, I, col. 80.
- Elizabeth Tingle, “The Afterlives of Rulers: Power, Patronage and Purgatory in Ducal Brittany 1480–1600,” in The Image and Perception of Monarchy in Medieval and Early Modern Europe, eds. Sean McGlynn and Elena Woodacre (Newcastle upon Lyme: Cambridge Scholars, 2014), 285–86.
- Morice, II, col. 699.
- Booton, “Commemorating,” 180.
- Booton notes, “She could have commissioned the monument from Breton or French sculptors working in local materials perhaps in a more familiar style; instead, she chose an English-made sculpture in alabaster, a decision that may have allowed better oversight of its production.” Booton, “Commemorating,” 179.
- Booton, “Commemorating,” 177.
- Kim Woods, Cut in Alabaster: A Material of Sculpture and its European Traditions 1330–1530 (Turnhout: Harvey Miller, 2018), 175; Copy, Art, Société et Politique, 174.
- Rachel Dressler, “Identity, Status and Material: Medieval Alabaster Effigies in England,” Peregrinations: Journal of Medieval Art and Architecture 5, no. 2 (2015): 95–6.
- Woods, Alabaster, 175.
- Foedera 8, 24 February 1408.
- Copy, Art, Société et Politique, 174. Original quote “Le choir de cet emplacement, la factor de l’oeuvre et sa signification politique ont été conditionnés par la personnalité de Jeanne de Navarre”.
- Christopher Wilson, “The Tomb of Henry IV and the Holy Oil of St. Thomas of Canterbury,” in Medieval Architecture and its Intellectual Context: Studies in Honour of Peter Kidson, eds. Eric Fernie and Paul Crossley (London: Hambledon, 1990), 181.
- Codling, “Kingly Style,” 215.
- Jon-Mark Grussenmeyer, “The Tomb of a King and the Ideology of a Dynasty: Henry IV and the Lancastrian Connexion to Canterbury Cathedral” (MA diss., University of Kent, 2012), 21.
- “Will of Henry IV,” in Richard Gough and John Nichols, A collection of all the wills, now known to be extant of the Kings and Queens of England (London: J. Nichols, 1780), 203.
- Wilson notes, “the absolute equality of Joan and Henry's heraldic commemoration suggests strongly that she was the patron”: Wilson, “The Tomb of Henry IV,” 182.
- Jessica Barker, Stone Fidelity: Marriage and Emotion in Medieval Tomb Sculpture (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2020), 163.
- John Carmi Parsons, “’Never was a body buried in England with such solemnity and honour’: The Burials and Posthumous Commemoration of English Queens to 1500,” in Queens and Queenship in Medieval Europe, ed. Anne Duggan (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2002), 329.
- Woods, Alabaster, 147.
- Woods, Alabaster, 234; Dressler, “Identity, Status and Material,” 68–9.
- I would like to thank Eloísa Ramírez Vaquero for drawing this possibility to my attention.
- Barker, Stone Fidelity, 185. On the wider popularity of alabaster, see Woods, Alabaster, 145.
- See Mortimer's extended discussion of the motto and the SS collar in Ian Mortimer, The Fears of Henry IV; The Life of England's Self-Made King (London: Vintage, 2008), Appendix Seven, 384–87.
- Randle Cotgrave, A French-English Dictionary (London: Printed by W.H for Luke Fawne, 1650), unpaginated.
- Kasey Evans, Colonial Virtue: The Mobility of Temperance in Renaissance England (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2012), 16.
- For an extended discussion, see Wilson, “The Tomb of Henry IV,” 181–90.
- Codling, “Kingly Style,” 215.
- Booton, “Commemorating,” 171.
- Jessica Barker, “The Funerary Programme of Beatrice of Portugal (d. 1439) at the Fitzalan Chapel in Arundel,” paper given at Espacios de memoria y representation: Reinas, infantas y damas de la corte ante la muerte en las monarquías ibéricas medievales, 29 April 2021.
- P. de Lisle du Drenuc, Les Tombeaux des Ducs de Bretagne (Vannes: Editeur Lafolye, 1894), 42–44.
- Anon. (J.H.S), “Tomb of King Henry IV in Canterbury Cathedral,” Archaeologia Cantiana 8 (1872): 298.