The Disastrous Dukes of Buckingham

The following post is dedicated to the memory of my dear friend Sue Vincent,
fellow Buckinghamshire blogger and supremely talented writer and artist.
A kindred spirit in so many ways,
she loved history and ancient sites and revered nature.

Sue, I will miss our long, rambling conversations and your amazing work.
Save that glass of mead for me…

As many of my blogging friends will be aware, I’m currently up to my ears researching and writing my dissertation, the final project that will mark the end of my history degree. I’ve barely managed to look up from my work so far this year, but in the rare moments I have come up for air I’ve been looking into a bit of local history. In particular, I’ve been finding out about our own Dukes of Buckingham, named after my nearest town, and what a sorry lot they were! Of course, my interest in the dukes lies mainly in the middle ages when the title was created, but despite there having been ten incumbents in total, no single family that received this seemingly cursed title could cling onto it for more than three generations. For the most part, theirs is a hapless tale of misfortune, misjudgement, misplaced allegiances and financial mismanagement.

Humphrey Stafford, 1st Duke of Buckingham

The first family to be awarded the Dukedom of Buckingham was the Staffords, descendents of the youngest son of Edward III. Born in 1402, Humphrey Stafford’s future looked rosy when he was knighted by Henry V in 1421 before becoming Constable of Calais the following year. On the death of his mother Humphrey inherited the Earldom of Buckingham but the title was soon promoted to Duke, and this new status put him above all other English dukes outside the royal family. But in 1455 Humphrey’s fortunes changed. As a devoted Lancastrian, he backed the wrong horse at the start of the Wars of the Roses, being captured at the Battle of St Albans in May of that year when he led King Henry VI’s army to the field. He later managed to secure his own release and for a short time his status was reinstated when Richard, Duke of York (father of Edward IV and Richard III) was killed, only to lose his own life at the Battle of Northampton in 1460. His son had predeceased him, falling victim to the Plague, so the title went straight to his grandson, the notorious turncoat Henry, or ‘Harry’ Stafford.

Henry, or ‘Harry’ Stafford, the duplicitous 2nd Duke of Buckingham

Harry succeeded to the Dukedom at around five years old, but as he grew up he became increasingly keen to flaunt his rank and status. However, having expected to make a suitable marriage with some great heiress, his ambitions were thwarted early on when the Yorkist king Edward IV intervened, marrying him to his queen’s younger sister, Catherine, while the couple were still children. Unfortunately for Harry, Edward had chosen to marry a commoner, the widow of a lesser noble, so the young Buckingham seethed with resentment throughout the ceremony and beyond at being forced to marry some low-born nobody. But in 1483 he sprung into the limelight as the self-appointed supporter of Richard, Duke of Gloucester as he became King Richard III. In return for Buckingham’s support Richard showered his friend with favours and high offices, making him the supreme power in Wales and the Welsh Marches. Although Harry held considerable lands elsewhere, the two friends maintained a link with Buckingham itself, enjoying hunting expeditions around the town where Richard’s hawks were kept on Castle Hill, once the site of a Norman castle.

Castle Hill in Buckingham, where Richard III’s hawks were kept

But despite all the privileges and gifts bestowed on him, Buckingham turned his back on Richard. Teaming up with the opposition, Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry Tudor, Harry led a rebellion against the king from his estate in Brecon. What possessed him to turn on Richard is a mystery. Perhaps he had designs on the crown himself, a scheme to redress the humiliation previously heaped on him by Edward IV. However, the rebellion failed spectacularly, plagued by bad weather and a lack of support, and at 28 years old, having been captured in Salisbury, Buckingham was beheaded for treason on 2nd November 1483.

A church now occupies the top of Castle Hill where once a Norman castle stood

The last Stafford to bear the Buckingham title was Edward, Harry’s son, who succeeded to the Dukedom after the Battle of Bosworth in 1485. As a ward of Margaret Beaufort in his early years, Edward held minor positions during the reign of Henry VII, but he clawed his way up in the world and secured the role of Lord High Constable. He carried the crown at Henry VIII’s coronation, a task he must have undertaken grudgingly, as the young Edward had inherited his father’s inflated ambitions, believing that as a descendent of Edward III he had a stronger claim to the throne than Henry. Soon rumours began to fly around court concerning Edward’s designs on kingship, and some say he was even heard mouthing off about killing the new king. Unsurprisingly then, in the spring of 1521 Edward went the same way as his father. He was tried for treason, with Henry VIII presiding over the hearing in person, and with the resulting guilty verdict Edward also lost his head. His lands, including his manor of Buckingham, were seized by the king and over time redistributed and bestowed on other lords, while the ducal title was effectively made redundant. Thus, the first family of Dukes came to an ignominious and abrupt end.

Edward Stafford, 3rd Duke of Buckingham

Eventually, in the seventeenth century, the Dukedom was revived and handed to a new family, the Villiers. The lucky recipient was George Villiers, son of a minor gentleman of Leicester, who had become a firm favourite – and lover – of King James I. Again, the future looked bright for the dashing and handsome George as he raced through the ranks to reach the dizzy heights of the senior Dukedom in 1623. But the Buckingham curse struck again, and his political and military blunders made him enemies in high places, with parliament twice trying to impeach him until he was saved by the king. Despite his unpopularity, George managed to retain his title after James died, but not for long. After two disastrous military expeditions to France, he was facing bankruptcy and public feeling against him was at an all time high. On 23rd August 1628 he was stabbed to death in a Portsmouth pub by an angry army officer who was hailed as a hero for the deadly deed.  

George, the first Villiers Duke of Buckingham and favourite of James I

Things finally began to improve for the dukes after the death of George, with his son supporting the royalist cause during the Civil Wars and living into his retirement, and the next incumbent, John Sheffield, building a colossal London house in 1703 that was to become Buckingham Palace. The final family to hold the grand title, later recreated as Duke of Buckingham and Chandos, were the Grenvilles of Stowe, who held long-established connections with the town. From 1776, another three generations received the title, and although they too tasted the curse of the Buckingham Dukedom, their misfortunes were more of the financial sort.

The first duke grew fat through greed, and his famed arrogance saw him run up huge debts. The second was declared bankrupt, and when he died the best the local newspaper could say of him was ‘He lost everything but his name!’ In the end, it was the final duke, Richard Plantagenet Campbell Temple-Nugent-Brydges-Chandos-Grenville (imagine how he signed his cheques!), who finally recouped the Buckingham fortune. Known as the ‘Safe Duke’ in contrast to his reckless forebears, Richard restored the family’s fortunes during the nineteenth century. He served as Conservative MP for Buckingham, embraced the coming of the railways and was a respected philanthropist supporting local good causes. When he died in 1889, the town of Buckingham grieved the loss of its beloved patron, and this time the local newspaper printed many heartfelt tributes in an issue edged in black. Leaving three daughters but no son, the ducal title died with Richard, but with his good business acumen and generosity of spirit, the Dukedom of Buckingham finally went out on a high.

Richard Plantagenet Campbell Temple-Nugent-Brydges-Chandos-Grenville,
the last Duke and redeemer of the Buckinghams

And if my degree is also to go out on any kind of high, I must return to my mountain of books once more for this last, most intensive period of work. So for now, I hope you enjoyed this chaotic slice of Buckinghamshire’s past, and I look forward to emerging into the light in June, when my studies will finally be complete. For the time being, anyway…

Sue Vincent
1958 – 2021

Fly free, my friend.

45 thoughts on “The Disastrous Dukes of Buckingham”

  1. An excellent post my love, and a lovely dedication.

    They really were a rum lot, the Buckinghams, I’m not sure if I were given the title if I’d consider it a blessing or a curse – I’d certainly try and avoid one of the M’s. XXX

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  2. I guess the final Duke was the best one – that is quite a name to have to sign, I agree! Good luck to you in your studies. I am sure your dissertation will be phenomenal! I am also very sorry for the loss of what sounds like an amazing woman. Thinking of you, Alli. Good luck to you! Hear from you in later!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  4. I’m so sorry to hear the news of your friend and fellow blogger Sue, and how appropriate to dedicate your post about the Dukes of Buckingham to her. May she rest in peace.

    It was interesting to see you mention that the Dukes of Buckingham were involved in the Wars of the Roses, as I’ve just been writing a bit about it in my final post on Bristol Castle.

    The Dukes were indeed a hapless lot and you’ve captured, as you always do, these moments in history with a flair that makes me feel that I already know them in person. Another great blog Alli.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    • Thanks as always for your kind words, Malc, especially about Sue. The blogsphere and the real world will be all the poorer without her.

      Interesting that you are writing about the Wars of the Roses too – great minds still thinking alike then! 🙂 I’ll look forward to reading all about Bristol Castle as soon as I possibly can. In the meantime, I’m glad you enjoyed reading about the Dukes. It’s funny you should mention that you feel you know them now, because when I’m writing about historical people I almost feel as though I’m in the room with them myself. 🙂

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply

  5. I don’t know what Big G thinks he’s doing – taking all the good ones and leaving the rubbish behind (I’m not including you by the way 🙂 )

    Thinking that you’re in a room with the person you’re writing about is a great way of conveying your message across, but I’m not sure I’d want to be in the same room as some of the people you talk about.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    • Yes, that’s true. Perhaps I should keep my sword and shield by my side and write wearing my great helm! I do sometimes feel as though some of them are looking over my shoulder, saying ‘hang on, I’m sure I wasn’t that bad…’. 🙂

      You’ve done it again, by the way. Only this morning whilst driving Maddie to school I was saying the same thing about Big G. Something’s very wrong with the world when people like Sue are taken away when there are far better candidates I’d like to see take her place.

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply
  6. Pingback: THE DISASTROUS DUKES OF BUCKINGHAM – Medieval Wanderings – Alli Templeton – Serendipity Seeking Intelligent Life on Earth

    • Thanks John, that’s very kind. And I’m glad you enjoyed reading about the dukes. Looking forward to catching up when it’s finally all over.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  8. I’m sure Sue V will have loved that – what a loss she is!

    George Villiers is almost the spitting image of my American ex-boyfriend from about 12 years ago!

    And, as to the sensible Grenville at the end – what a mouthful his name was. Reminds me of a guy I was in the Army with – he had 8 names too. He was Thomas James Alfred Henderson MacTavish MacEwen Smith-Hunter!

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    • Thanks Carol. Indeed, Sue is a terrible loss to the world – both real and blogging. The saddest thing is we were going to meet up in few weeks after my dissertation and when the rules have been relaxed a bit more, but of course now it won’t happen. I feel cheated by fate.

      Amazing that George Villiers was a double for your ex. His good looks cut quite a dash at the time. I hope he was a better person than the duke though! And as for mad names, I love your army friend’s – it’s as bad as Grenville’s. Who knew these hugely elongated surnames still existed? I can’t imagine what his email address was! Priceless! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  9. Good to have another of your fascinating posts Ali, although I’m amazed you can fit all this research in alongside your dissertation! I wonder at that third Stafford Duke, Edward – you would think that after your father had been beheaded for treason you would learn to keep your mouth shut!

    Such a shame to read about Sue – a real loss to the blogging community 😦

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    • Thanks, Sarah, good to hear from you, and I’m glad you enjoyed reading about our rum lot of dukes. I thought exactly the same about Edward Stafford. He must have been a few sandwiches short of a picnic not to have learned from his dad’s atrocious example. Talk about history repeating itself.

      Thanks also for the lovely message about Sue. She is indeed a big loss, and I’ll miss her and her amazing writing a great deal. The world has lost another real gem. 😦

      Take care, Sarah, and I look forward to catching up when the dissertation is finally over. All the best,.

      Like

      Reply

  10. Hello there Alli and firstly my sympathies on your loss. Sadly, I had never “met” Sue here in blogland but she sounds a remarkable woman and you obviously miss her greatly.

    Secondly, thanks so much for the wonderfully interesting post about the D’s of B. I had known bits and pieces about various of them, particularly George Villiers but it is nice to have the whole history set down chronologically and so interestingly.

    Best of luck with the dissertation, I know that if passion for your subject counts for anything you are guaranteed a First!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    • Hi Fergy, thanks so much for your kind message. Sue was, indeed, a remarkable woman and a rare gem of a human being. The world will be a poorer place without her and her wonderful writing.

      Glad you enjoyed the ‘D’s of B’ (like it!). They were a rum lot but at least they weren’t boring! 🙂

      Thanks also for the good wishes for my dissertation and your kind words. I’m doing a medieval Welsh topic, and although I have to admit I’m shattered now with all the work and this last year, I’m enjoying it and it’s slowly taking shape. Looking forward to a rest when I’ve finished and some medieval adventures! In the meantime, all the best, and take care. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      • My pleasure.

        Medieval Welsh, that should be interesting and plenty of castles involved which I suspect is part of the reason you chose it.

        In another of those inter-connectedness” moments that follow me round, I was watching an episode of “Who do you think you are” on the BBC iPlayer at about 0400 this morning when the insomnia was playing up.

        The subject was the actor / comedian Greg Davies who it appears was related centuries ago to Owain Mawr although it appears that 90% of the population of Gwynedd is!

        Liked by 1 person

      • Aha, a fellow insomniac – I’m the same. I think there’s a lot of it about these days. Inter-connectedness is something that tends to follows me too, and I love it when it happens. I’m probably descended from Owain too, then, as I’m mostly Welsh and my ancestors largely come from the north and marcher lands. I always think that’s where my fascination with castles – in particular the Edwardian Welsh ones – comes from, and I felt a real connection with them when I did my Welsh castle quest a couple of years ago. Interesting stuff.

        I wanted to do castles for my dissertation but the restrictions are such that I couldn’t access enough sources or visit them again. So instead I’m doing the abduction of Nest of Deheubarth in 1109 (great story), which actually took place in the south at Carew Castle, and as I don’t know that area I’m contemplating doing a ‘Nest Quest’ later this year, which should be fun and fascinating, and a welcome adventure after being stuck in a cage for nearly a year! 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      • Much as I would like to I cannot blame my insomnia on the present chaos as I have had it for years, probably a throwback to my days in uniform even if most of it wasn’t actually in uniform, if that makes sense.

        Ordinarily I might curse you for mentioning Nest but as I have been up since yesterday morning (or maybe longer, I really can’t remember) and with dear old Morpheus still a long way off, I have nothing better to do so I shall look it up now and undoubtedly fall down another historical rabbit hole!

        A Nest Quest, that has a nice ring to it.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Oooh, sorry the insomnia is so severe. I’ve been suffering on and off with it for around 10 years, but admittedly not that badly. Have you tried 5-HTP? I’ve found that and a herbal mixture quite effective, especially at the moment when I’m finding it so hard to switch off once I’ve woken up. Uniform? What was that doing then?

        Nest was a great character and her story is a cracking one that causes a fair bit of historical debate. If you do fall down that rabbit hole, you can always find out all about her when I do the Nest Quest! 😀

        Liked by 1 person

      • Sod the Nest Quest, I shall be expecting your dissertation published online so I can read the unexpurgated version, I want to read it with full annotations, sources, all the bells and whistles!

        As for the insomnia, I do not do anything bar a rather excessive amount of alcohol and that is not as a sedative (it does not work) but a habit.

        I am in the very fortunate position that I am retired, live alone (very happily I might add), mortgage free so my sleep patterns do not impact anyone else. I can stay awake for 36 hours or more or sleep for that period of time and it is totally inconsequential, nobody gets hurt.

        I can well understand that in your situation you need to try to control things but I don’t like taking drugs, which is an odd thing to say as I take eight pills a day and stick a hypo in my gut every day but those are for other reasons.

        Believe me, I have lived those nights for many decades now and I know that nothing really helps but, if I can be of any assistance, let me know and we can work out a way of communicating away from here.

        Fascinating as the concept of insomnia is, I don’t think most people here are interested! If you are still unsure, which is totally understandable, please contact our mutual friend Malc, he’ll vouch for me.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Well, I’m very flattered that you want to read the whole dissertation, footnotes, warts and all, so thank you for the vote of confidence. For my part, I do wonder whether it may be your long-awaited cure for insomnia! 😉

        I can understand why you don’t want to take drugs. Neither do I, but luckily 5-HTP is a natural supplement made from the seeds of an African plant. It’s supposed to help seratonin levels, but I guess it’s down to the individual as to whether it works. Sorry you have so many problems, but it sounds as though you cope admirably well without much sleep. It is a fascinating subject, although perhaps one I’ll have to pick up on after I’ve finished with Nest.

        Malc is another of my good blogging pals, so I’m glad we have him as a mutual friend.

        Liked by 1 person

  11. Warts and all? A Cromwellian reference? Surely a bit post your preferred period? Trust m, you’ll be going some to put me to sleep and I swear I’ll pay you handsomely if you can do it.

    Joking aside, I just have an insatiable thirst to know everything, which I know is a ludicrous idea but it doesn’t stop me. I drive my Canadian mate Lynne (you may have read of her in some of my ramblings round Canada. She would literally have to drag me physically out of the tiniest village museum as I would be reading every word of every annotation of every fairly average artefact.

    I suspect my insomnia comes from PTSD although it has never been diagnosed as such because I will not go to a head Doctor. I suspect the fascination with museums may be some sort of OCD but, again, I do not need some silly child with a bit of paper and no idea of the world to tell me that.

    I know you know Malc although I do not know if you have ever met him. He is one of the nicest blokes I ever met even if our politics are diametrically opposed. We have had some great nights out, both in Devon and in London, and I think he’ll vouch for me. I am not insane (I think) but I just have an insane desire to learn, which must by definition make me insane. I think Malc will tell you I am not actually dangerous! A bit weird but not dangerous.

    Having not gone to Uni (too wild and distracted at that point) I had often thought about the OU, which I think is a brilliant institution and whilst OU degrees maybe 20 years ago were sneered at by “proper” academics, this seems to be no longer the case. An OU degree is now, rightly, held in high regard so good luck with your dissertation. When you get your degree (note when, not if) do I have to call you Ma’am or something?

    Honestly, I was fine in retirement and approaching death (again, let’s call it what it is) and I was happy as s single bloke with no responsibilities buying a ticket online and being on a ‘plane to Asia the next day, literally. Asia is really my “stomping ground”.

    The Chinese wilfully inflicted this plague upon us (don’t even try to argue, it is proven beyond all doubt already, even with their understandable lack of co-operation) and my world fell apart, as did so many others and all needlessly. The only thing that kept (keeps) me going and stops me reaching for the pills and the bottle is the availability of travel writing online which I devour daily.

    Yes, I read real books as well, complete with embossed covers and that wonderful smell. You know what I am talking about. I love reading but it is the online presence which stops me doing something I would not be able to regret! Your pieces have been a great part of that and I certainly owe you a pint should we ever meet (I hope we do) although where I am going to source mead in the Home Counties is still a matter under consideration!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    • Less a nod in Cromwell’s direction (can’t stand the bloke – it’s his fault so many of our castles are in ruins) and more a lack of confidence in my work! However, if it does some good to someone – even if it is helping you fall asleep – it can’t be all bad! 🙂

      An unquenchable thirst for knowledge is never a bad thing – whatever is the root cause (sorry to hear about that), and I’m only too pleased that my humble blog can help to enlighten you in matters medieval. Thank goodness for books and vicarious travel (or castle visiting for me), as I think we’d all have gone mad without it this past year. As to that, you’re definitely preaching to the converted.

      Mead in the home counties, by the way, is readily available at English Heritage sites and even in some branches of Waitrose, but there’s loads available online too. Really gorgeous stuff. I’m into the Lancashire Mead Company at the moment, and, of course, our own Sticky Rogers!

      I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Malc yet, but I sincerely hope we can meet up for a drink one day. Perhaps we all can.

      Like

      Reply
  12. Pingback: The Feisty Folk of Medieval Towcester

Leave a comment