Who Murdered Chaucer?: A Medieval Mystery By Terry Jones

Terry Jones ¸ 8 Summary

In this spectacular work of historical speculation Terry Jones investigates the mystery surrounding the death of Geoffrey Chaucer over 600 years ago. A diplomat and brother-in-law to John of Gaunt, one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, Chaucer was celebrated as his country's finest living poet, rhetorician and scholar: the preeminent intellectual of his time. And yet nothing is known of his death. In 1400 his name simply disappears from the record. We don't know how he died, where or when; there is no official confirmation of his death and no chronicle mentions it; no notice of his funeral or burial. He left no will and there's nothing to tell us what happened to his estate. He didn't even leave any manuscripts. How could this be? What if he was murdered?

Terry Jones' hypothesis is the introduction to a reading of Chaucer's writings as evidence that might be held against him, interwoven with a portrait of one of the most turbulent periods in English history, its politics and its personalities.
Who Murdered Chaucer?: A Medieval Mystery

2.5 stars

This was a bit of a disappointment, largely because it could also be titled 'A Biased, Partial, Prejudiced and Revisionist History of the Reign of Richard II'. I realise there are 'Richard camps' and 'Henry IV' camps'. Thanks to Shakespeare, Richard II's reputation as a mad despot was largely unquestioned for centuries. A later re-examination led to the pendulum swinging the other way and Richard becoming nigh on a saint. I have studied this period of history in depth, using multiple sources including the very chronicles Jones cites here, and I fall somewhere between. Richard was a painfully insecure, narcissistic autocrat who nevertheless embraced an egalitarian attitude when it came to women and much of the lower classes, was kind to children and to his wives, patronised the arts which enjoyed a bountiful flowering during his reign and was no doubt a generous and charismatic friend. Unfortunately, both his good and bad points made him a terrible king - or at the very least, absolutely the wrong king for the period. Nor is this entirely his fault. Few monarchs ever faced the sort of trials he faced during his rule - the Great Revolt in 1381 when he was just 14, for instance, and the even more damaging Merciless Parliament of 1388. The latter most likely let to his growing paranoia and a burning desire for revenge, if not a complete mental break down: imagine being forced to preside silently over an event as one by one your friends and loved ones were dragged in front of you, pronounced guilty without trial and then executed. The 14th C didn't have a term for PTSD but the powerlessness of that situation would be enough to affect anyone. However, this does not exonerate Richard's own actions, many of which showed seeds of existence before 1388. The tantrums during which he lost his temper, often physically attacking his own courtiers and nobles (particularly dishonourable since they could not raise a hand to defend themselves against the king) are well documented by multiple independent sources. Naturally Jones skips this as it doesn't fit the narrative he wants to spin.

Then there's the troubling catalogue of things we know - and have plenty of evidence for - which Richard did in the years between 1381 and 1399; the bloody retribution visited on the rebels after promises of pardons and indulgences (which went on for years and were mitigated in large part by Queen Anne who often begged for mens' lives from her husband); the pressganging of justices of the peace and lawmen to overturn the treason laws so that Richard could use them to mean anyone who disagreed with his, especially the Appellants; the rewriting/ reinterpretting of laws to suit Richard's whim and convenience; the complete abolition of all parliaments; the issuing of blank chartres and promisery notes allowing Richard to bankrupt and ruin his own people, robbing the land he'd sworn to protect and breaking the Magna Carte. And then there's the murder of his uncle, the Duke of Gloucester; the execution of the Earl of Arundel without much of a trial; the conspiracy to kill his own cousin, Henry Bolingbroke and his Uncle, John of Gaunt. You can say there's little evidence for these latter, but there is just as little evidence that Henry IV later killed Richard. I'm 99% certain Henry did, btw, but in fact there's more evidence that Richard schemed to have his cousin murdered. Which brings us on to Richard's treatment of Henry, which was at times cruel, vindictive and downright unreasonable.

I'm not a Henry IV supporter especially. He was a fine knight but not especially charismatic or impressive as a king. His cold pragmatism led him to be ruthless at the wrong times; he broke promises to his subjects and lost their trust - not a hard thing to do in fairness: he'd usurped a throne complete with a shit show from Richard and after the latter's rule, most people were wary of king's full stop. He also allowed conservative Catholic Archbishop Thomas Arundel far too much free reign. I don't for one minute believe that England was taken without bloodshed - although it was very telling that Henry landed with 100 men and by the end of the month had more like 50,000 (seriously, I would love to know how 100 men bullied 50,000 devoted subjects of Richard II into switching sides. Could it be that they weren't especially devoted?) And yes the Lancastrians had a fine propaganda machine. There may well have been some amendment of the chronicles although to suggest the wholesale cover-up Jones insists happens is very unlikely. You can't condone Henry IV's actions either tbh. But he was not a monster. He cleaned up a lot of legal, taxation and structural government issues after Richard ran rough shod through them. It's fair to say that while these things are not interesting to most historians, that his son, Henry V would not have been able to achieve as much as he did had his father not built a framework. Not to excuse Henry IV's complete ineptitude with money, by the by, but even that was an unwitting learning experience for his son.

So that's my position. Richard was deeply troubled, jealous of his cousin, spiteful but also a man well ahead of his time. Henry was clever pragmatist, with little sense of humour, a poor grasp of finance and a disturbing willingness to be utterly ruthless when the occasion called for it. The latter was a better functional king. The former was a better patron of the arts - though let's not forget that Henry also patronised artists and writers from his teenage years onwards. (We know, because we have his accounts of the chamber.)

Having said all that, where does Chaucer come in? Well, it is important to understand the political climate he lived in because ultimately all art and literature reflects the time during which it was written. However, it's a huge leap to say that Chaucer was especially favoured by Richard. Jones seems to have ignored the fact that Chaucer was in the pay of John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, and was patronised and befriended by him from early in his career. Enough that Gaunt paid a ransom to get Chaucer returned when he was captured fighting in France; enough to help arrange a prosperous and advantageous marriage for Chaucer with Phillipa de Roet; enough to stand as surity for Chaucer's character and provide financial support when the poet was accused of 'Raptus' (which in medieval terms means the seizure of something to which a person has no right and is not necessarily sexual assault) by Cecily Champagne. Meanwhile Richard did pay an annuity to Chaucer and lucrative positions were found for him, but there was little or no personal contact. In fact, during a large proportion of Richard's rule, Chaucer's influence and popularity at court was decidedly low. It appears Richard preferred poets like John Gower.

So with three areas of serious revisionism going on here, if not gross inaccuracies, I was rather taken aback at the book. I suppose the chain of logical supposition Terry Jones weaves makes sense if you believe Richard was a maligned angel and Henry was a brute, and that Chaucer was a clear supporter of Richard - which again we have no evidence for and as he was a Lancastrian man and would have known Henry as a boy, was sponsored by Richard's hated uncle, seems very unlikely. The only evidence we have of Chaucer's allegiances are to logic, to humanity, to understanding and to principle. Honesty, I think he was very much of the opinion that you 'put not your trust in the princes of this world'. But if you allow that, then Jones entire case falls apart.

Or does it?

I went into this book agreeing that Chaucer was murdered and his works suppressed. I don't think Henry had anything to do with it - when he took the throne he engaged Chaucer as tutor for his children and offered him another annuity (which admittedly he was crap at paying because Henry was crap with money.) I also went in with a clear idea of who I believed had Chaucer murdered. It's the only thing that Jones and I agreed upon in the end.

As a final note, Jones - of whom I've always been a fan because Monty Python is seminal - is a good writer. I like his arch tone and his wit. He's at his absolute best when he is discussing Chaucer's work. The rest of it is just very thin supposition and I grew both annoyed and weary with it. Take this as a though experiment and add plenty of salt. Humor, Entertainment Say what? Chaucer was murdered?
That was my thought when I saw this book in a discount bin outside the bookstore. I had no idea the great poet had been murdered, much less that there was a mystery surrounding it. Intrigued, I bought the book. That startling title hooked me.

And that is exactly what that so clever title is — an effective hook to sell the book. Chaucer’s murder actually is no more than a what if, a historical rumor. All the material about the possible murder is woven out of supposition and conjecture, reading between the lines of history. It barely rises above the level of making you wonder, I suppose that might be a possibility. Indeed, the authors at no point even try to claim more than that.

The real meat of this book is in its illumination of late 14th century England and the court and kingship of Richard II. It challenges the view of Richard as failed king and tyrant. Instead, it presents his reign as encouraging openness and free inquiry, and his eloquent court as fostering the flowering of knowledge, the arts, and the rise of the English language. Chaucer, a courtier of the king with royal connections (he was brother-in-law to John of Gaunt) is the focus used to illustrate this re-evaluation.

Henry IV serves as the book’s villain, together with Thomas Arundel, the scheming Archbishop who orchestrated Henry’s rise and the power behind his throne. Grasping noble and scheming bishop together take down a popular, rightful king and replace a culture of intellectual inquiry with draconian church/state repression to maintain a stollen throne. Once again, Chaucer is used to illustrate this historical corrective, as his sudden disappearance from the historical record and rumor of his possible murder is presented as part of Archbishop Arundel’s reign of terror.

So this wasn’t exactly the book I expected when I saw that catchy title, but was nevertheless compelling. It’s arguments against the traditional views of Richard II and and the men who deposed him are intriguing, if not totally convincing. If you enjoy Medieval English history you will enjoy this book. Humor, Entertainment Chaucer died about 1400: date uncertain. He was a protégé of Richard II, in whose reign Chaucer’s anti-Church writings were accepted. When Richard was deposed and murdered, Archbishop Thomas Arundel—“the Henry Kissinger of his day” —was given free rein. Opponents of Church hegemony were murdered. Chaucer may have been one of them. Burning at the stake for heresy was brought to England. Humor, Entertainment From my research of Richard III and the Tudors I have every good reason to know university historians are frequently wrong, often on simple things such as dates. It should come as no surprise, when a massively able writer like Terry Jones turns his considerable attention to a subject like the death of Chaucer, conventional beliefs will be shattered.
I would venture that the research and analysis in this book is orders of magnitude better than that of any professor in any university, with all the universities' resources behind him. Part of the reason is Terry himself, part of the reason is the professional historian is hobbled by peer review and dare not look outside the conventional 'wisdom'. Mr. Jones is only interested in the truth.
What comes out of the book is a radical and far more believable version of:
the very noble and, in a modern sense, liberal Richard II,
the increasingly depraved and murderous usurper Henry IV,
and the manipulative and ungodly Thomas Arundel, archbishop of Canterbury.
Victors write history, and most of us poor fools stumble after them; not Terry Jones. It is very possible Henry and Arundel murdered England's greatest writer. Humor, Entertainment I didn't expect to enjoy this as much as I did. I thought I might find it amusing -- weird, that someone would think to try and figure out who murdered someone who common knowledge doesn't peg as being murdered, about which we have no forensic evidence. (So not like, say, King Tutankhamen, where at least there's potential forensic evidence to go on.) But this isn't like that: Terry Jones et al freely admit that there is no proof that someone did murder Chaucer: what they did was put forward a convincing argument as to why certain people would have wanted Chaucer silenced, and the evidence they can dig up which suggests it's possible he was, including censorship of his work, possible veiled references by other poets of the period, the lack of a will, and of course the abrupt ending of his life. All of these things have other explanations, which the authors admit, but taken all together, the idea isn't so outlandish.

It isn't an exercise like trying to discover who murdered someone because of fractures on their skull that could, barely conceivably, point to blunt-force trauma as a cause of death. It's a much more literary affair that I recognise -- being a historicist, this is what I do, for texts, except Terry Jones et al are reading history as a text. They look for motive, they identify the principle characters. Just as I might want to look at why Shakespeare endorsed the Tudor myth, they look at the politics of the time and apply it to Chaucer's writing, and that of his contemporaries.

My main criticism is that I was a little turned off by the sheer level of detail, much of it not relating to Chaucer. It's certainly an education about the whole situation in that period, though. I hadn't even really thought about the fact that Chaucer lived during the transfer of power from Richard II to Henry IV. Now I can't stop thinking about it. Humor, Entertainment

Who

I stumbled across this book shortly after I stumbled across a documentary entitled “Chaucer”. Not realizing the documentary was by Terry Jones, I was pleasantly surprised—and even more pleasantly surprised that the show was more about Richard II’s England than about Chaucer. In the documentary he answered the question “who murdered Chaucer”, even though it wasn’t really asked. So of course I snatched up the book. As expected, Terry Jones writes witty, easy-to-read prose and I enjoyed his tongue-in-cheek style immensely. For example: “No matter where present-day historians place the origins of the Peasants’ Revolt, those in power who lived through it, particularly the clerics, had no doubt how it came about: it was all the fault of that arch troublemaker, John Wyclif. If he hadn’t encouraged all those people to start challenging the authority of the church establishment, none of this would have happened.” (Actually, historians place John Ball as the spiritual instigator, but Wyclif fits in better with his arguments.)

On the other hand, I really have mixed feelings about his approach. From the beginning (the introduction), we understand the position the author has taken: “During the previous thirty years (before the usurpation), England has enjoyed a period when almost anything could be thought and written, when almost any intellectual line could be pursued… In 1399, almost overnight, the country passed into an age of iron control, of Thought Police and of intellectual straitjacketing on a level that has never been equaled before or since in this country. It was as if the nation had passed from the Permissive Sixties straight into Stalin’s Russia.” Well, I wouldn’t exactly call this unbiased! And of course, the big bad wolf in post-Ricardian England was Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury. Well, he was the unofficial archbishop, really; on Henry IV’s return from outlawry, Arundel immediately assumed his former post (from which he was impeached) without any sanction from the Pope. And yes, Arundel must have been at loggerheads with Chaucer since they represented opposite sides of the heretical spectrum, especially as depicted in the Canterbury Tales.

Having studied Richard II pretty thoroughly for the last couple of years, I was familiar with everything Terry wrote about. But, even though I am a self-professed “Richardian”, there were times I had to shake my head at his conclusions—reached, in many cases, by stretching the truth as we know it, or at best, by making wide assumptions. In fact, the whole book is based on assumptions—and rather clever ones, too—but I can’t see how a reader, if unread in Richard II’s history, would fail to swallow Terry’s version of the story. It’s amusing, well-reasoned, and sympathetic. He doesn’t dwell on the unpleasant side of Richard’s “tyranny”; in fact, this whole episode is pretty much glossed over. Henry, on the other hand, is depicted as weak and easily led by the vindictive mastermind Arundel. And what of Chaucer’s murder; did he die naturally, or was he done away with? Well, we don’t know what happened. Why did he just disappear from the records? It all sounds so suspicious to the author, though he admits he can only speculate. I can’t say I’m convinced by his arguments. Did I enjoy the book? Mostly; a fan of Chaucer will probably gobble it up. My interest is in Richard, so I got a little bogged down in the appropriate Canterbury Tales chapters. Would I recommend it? For entertainment, naturally. For its historical value, I would point the reader elsewhere.
Humor, Entertainment It's impossible to imagine today a famous author just disappearing without a trace. However, given Henry IV and Archbishop Arundel brutal regime and suppression of pretty much any thought that remotely contradicted them, I suppose it is not surprising in the fifteenth century.

I was pleasantly surprised by this text; it was certainly much more than I expected but still with plenty of humor. The research seems thorough and the hypothesis is sound. It makes sense for Arundel to be the reason behind the disappearance of one of the greatest literary figures in history. Humor, Entertainment I'll frequently say that I'm not interested enough in history to read an entire book on it, nor even to read historical fiction. However, there are the occasional exceptions. The title of this book is almost certainly what appealed to me when I added it to my to-read list 9 years ago, but the content kept me intrigued all the way through.

Jones' (et al.) thesis is that Chaucer was done away with, almost certainly with the knowledge of the usurper Henry IV and by his pal the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Arundel (a nasty piece of work!). Fascinating stuff (though obviously not fascinating for those concerned around the turn of the century into 1400). The writing had me thoroughly engaged in the people and the events of the time.

I have to confess that I haven't read The Canterbury Tales in anything other than a children's version (Usborne readers), but I did already know the gist of it. From reading this book I now have a much better understanding and I truly appreciate that. This was an excellent experience. Humor, Entertainment Could you imagine the news reports now-a-days if a rather well-connected/ well-known author disappeared without a trace? No will, no official death report, nothing? That is exactly the mystery surrounding the death of Chaucer. Being a right-hand man to Richard II and opposed by Henry IV’s own right-hand man, Thomas Arundel, due to Chaucer’s reformist views; one can begin to speculate about his death. Accident? Illness? Murder? Allow Terry Jones et al and “Who Murdered Chaucer?” to investigate.

The conception of “Who Murdered Chaucer?” was the subsequent project of an academic research of a “coroner’s inquest” on Chaucer’s death amongst the authors. This led to the production of a book with research divided between the authors and compiled into a final novel.

Upon first glance, “Who Murdered Chaucer?” is eye-striking based on its glossy pages and colorful illumination-like illustrations. The text begins with a background look at Richard II’s court in a cultural and literary respect (Chaucer was a courtier and held positions under Richard). Although the book clearly has bias and pro-bias toward Richard II; the text does not focus on the reign politically (at least, not too much), and instead more on how Richard II embraced books, literature, poetry, letters, etc. This background is necessary to understand Chaucer’s role in court life. Thus, a well-detailed look into medieval and court life results.

Although not too difficult to read language-wise, Who Murdered Chaucer can become a bit dry and over-scholarly at points which can cause dissonance amongst some average readers. Furthermore, the flow is a bit choppy as it is noticeable that the book is a compilation of the various authors’ essays (and they all clearly have a different writing style). This also leads to the annoying habit of repetition in information-giving. Basically, the text can certainly be described as “heavy” and “lengthy” with much of the book focusing on Richard II and Henry IV rather than on Chaucer’s death. Although this is pleasing to the reader interested in Richard, it can be interpreted as off-course and slow to those who are more interested in Chaucer’s death. Simply put: depending on your interest, there are skimmable portions.

Despite this, the wealth of knowledge is impressive and annotated and provides a look into the realities behind Richard II and the Lancastrian propaganda which tried to deflate him. Who Murdered Chaucer provides a rather intimate look at the relationship between Richard II and Henry IV, the events leading up to Henry’s usurpation (and why Richard wasn’t as unpopular as we are meant to be believed), and Henry’s actions as Thomas Arundel’s puppet against Richard. Proof is offered that Henry didn’t have the support of the French to the extreme which are familiar with.

Terry Jones’s sections are most entertaining and well-written. It is obvious which are his due to his humor. The book would have been better, had it been wholly his. Sadly, it took about 200 pages before The Canterbury Tales and its implications (which possibly effects Chaucer’s disappearance) to be discussed. Although the tie-ins to Chaucer are thusly explored, they are somewhat far-fetched and merely are speculation. The conclusion of the text’s formal accusation is somewhat weak and predictable much, much earlier in the book.

Overall, Who Murdered Chaucer isn’t bad, but I did find myself often bored and wondering when the text would “get to the point”. The last 100 or so pages rush to emphasize the connection of events to Chaucer while not heavily convincing that he was murdered or was disposed of (although there is certainly a mystery surrounding his death which does raise debate). Simply, not an enthralling mystery-history book but well researched and scholarly. Humor, Entertainment Quite an interesting read, and will particularly appeal to people who like conspiracy theories. If you think Diana was killed by a confederacy of Martians, Freemasons and Jews you are sure to enjoy this.

To be positive:

1. It is nice to find someone (Terry Jones) who admires Richard II more than I do. I may have been his friend in a previous life, TJ was quite possibly Anne of Bohemia. Usually this era is discussed from the POV of St. Henry of Bolingbroke. (Yes Ian Mortimer, I do mean you!)

2. It's really interesting (to me) to read a book about this reign where the author has done his research and come up with original ideas. Too many historians of Richard II merely repeat the same old cliches about his 'tyranny' and so on and so forth. Jones has quite a serious look at the political background.

3. I enjoy reading about the detail of Chaucer's life - the guy fascinates me almost as much as Richard II.

On the other hand - everyone who knows me is aware that I am not exactly the Chair of Bolingbroke's fan club. BUT I suspect he had better things to do with his time than arrange for the bumping off of elderly (by the standards of the day!) poets on account of their scribblings. I am still less a fan of Archbishop Arundel, but similarly...

I have given the book 4 stars because, despite my misgivings quoted above, that's how much I enjoyed it.



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