killed. This probably took place in the middle of September 1327, after which the news was secretly despatched to Lincoln where Isabella was waiting. The date of 21 September, the beginning of the autumn Equinox, was chosen for two possible reasons. First, it was the feast of St Matthew the Evangelist. Edward II’s birthday was on 25 April, the feast of an Evangelist (Mark), so placing his death on the feast of another saint was a clever touch of irony. Secondly, and more appropriately, 21 September 1327 marked the anniversary, to the day, of the beginning of Isabella’s invasion, when her fleet left Dordrecht: this, perhaps, was a subtle way of honouring that anniversary.
A messenger reached the Queen at Lincoln on the night of 23 September to give details of what was being prepared, but a full week would pass before Thomas Gurney reached the court of Nottingham, where the young King was about to hold a Parliament, with the official news that Edward of Caernarvon was dead, a task which earned Gurney 31s. 1d. Isabella and Mortimer, of course, would wonder where their prisoner had escaped to, but for now they deliberately played the matter down. No great fuss, no proclamations, the body would stay at Berkeley for a month before being transferred to Gloucester for burial. Doubtless Thomas of Berkeley was in on the conspiracy. The corpse Gurney and Ockle produced would have had more than a passing resemblance to the former King: the hair would have been cropped, the face shaved and, of course, the body embalmed for burial. The
Brut Chronicle
’s assertion that ‘friends and kin of the dead King were keptwell away’ certainly seems true. Even Hugh Glanville, the clerk responsible for the burial arrangements of the dead King, did not assume his duties until 22 October 1327. What happened in the previous month? An old woman was hired to embalm the corpse for burial, probably within a week of Edward II’s supposed death. By 28 September the corpse would have been ready for display in the small chapel of St John at Berkeley Castle. The chronicler Adam of Murimouth, whose testimony is fairly reliable, says: ‘Berkeley invited leading notables from the area to view the corpse but, this was done superficially, and they stood far off.’
Mortimer, too, supervised affairs from afar. Smyth of Nibley, the official Berkeley historian, remarks: ‘What secret intelligence passed between father-in-law and son-in-law [Mortimer and Berkeley] I can only conjecture.’ 2 By the time Mortimer had left the area, at the beginning of October 1327, the corpse was already sealed in the lead coffin (glimpsed in 1855, when the tomb was hurriedly opened and closed).
Apart from Thomas Berkeley and the woman who dressed the corpse, the only other person allowed near the alleged deceased King was the sergeant-at-arms, William Beaukaire, paid for staying at Berkeley ‘
Iuxta Corpus Regis
’ from 21 September to the day of the funeral. In the literally hundreds of thousands of entries on the Calendars of Close, Patent rolls and other official records between 1327 and 1333, there is no trace of this Beaukaire. This is very surprising. Surely a sergeant-at-arms, deputed to guard the corpse of a King, would be someone well known? Wouldn’t he, too, be questioned after 1330? Perhaps Glanville had been ordered to insert this item to showthe clerks of the Exchequer that someone did actually stand by the corpse, see it and protect it.
Glanville’s expenses are, in essence, a piece of creative accounting, which gives the impression that his responsibility for the burial arrangements for the dead King was a routine task. This was not the case: Glanville did not take over the custody of the corpse until 22 October 1327 when it was safely sealed in its lead casket. He finished his duties at the end of December 1327 but his accounts were not formally enrolled at the Exchequer until years later when Mortimer was long dead, Isabella in retirement and public
A messenger reached the Queen at Lincoln on the night of 23 September to give details of what was being prepared, but a full week would pass before Thomas Gurney reached the court of Nottingham, where the young King was about to hold a Parliament, with the official news that Edward of Caernarvon was dead, a task which earned Gurney 31s. 1d. Isabella and Mortimer, of course, would wonder where their prisoner had escaped to, but for now they deliberately played the matter down. No great fuss, no proclamations, the body would stay at Berkeley for a month before being transferred to Gloucester for burial. Doubtless Thomas of Berkeley was in on the conspiracy. The corpse Gurney and Ockle produced would have had more than a passing resemblance to the former King: the hair would have been cropped, the face shaved and, of course, the body embalmed for burial. The
Brut Chronicle
’s assertion that ‘friends and kin of the dead King were keptwell away’ certainly seems true. Even Hugh Glanville, the clerk responsible for the burial arrangements of the dead King, did not assume his duties until 22 October 1327. What happened in the previous month? An old woman was hired to embalm the corpse for burial, probably within a week of Edward II’s supposed death. By 28 September the corpse would have been ready for display in the small chapel of St John at Berkeley Castle. The chronicler Adam of Murimouth, whose testimony is fairly reliable, says: ‘Berkeley invited leading notables from the area to view the corpse but, this was done superficially, and they stood far off.’
Mortimer, too, supervised affairs from afar. Smyth of Nibley, the official Berkeley historian, remarks: ‘What secret intelligence passed between father-in-law and son-in-law [Mortimer and Berkeley] I can only conjecture.’ 2 By the time Mortimer had left the area, at the beginning of October 1327, the corpse was already sealed in the lead coffin (glimpsed in 1855, when the tomb was hurriedly opened and closed).
Apart from Thomas Berkeley and the woman who dressed the corpse, the only other person allowed near the alleged deceased King was the sergeant-at-arms, William Beaukaire, paid for staying at Berkeley ‘
Iuxta Corpus Regis
’ from 21 September to the day of the funeral. In the literally hundreds of thousands of entries on the Calendars of Close, Patent rolls and other official records between 1327 and 1333, there is no trace of this Beaukaire. This is very surprising. Surely a sergeant-at-arms, deputed to guard the corpse of a King, would be someone well known? Wouldn’t he, too, be questioned after 1330? Perhaps Glanville had been ordered to insert this item to showthe clerks of the Exchequer that someone did actually stand by the corpse, see it and protect it.
Glanville’s expenses are, in essence, a piece of creative accounting, which gives the impression that his responsibility for the burial arrangements for the dead King was a routine task. This was not the case: Glanville did not take over the custody of the corpse until 22 October 1327 when it was safely sealed in its lead casket. He finished his duties at the end of December 1327 but his accounts were not formally enrolled at the Exchequer until years later when Mortimer was long dead, Isabella in retirement and public
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