The Flanders Campaign

by David Cook

"The hardest thing of all for a soldier is to retreat." - Arthur Wellesley, First Duke of Wellington.

The Flanders Campaign of 1793-1795 was conducted during the first years of the French Revolutionary War by the allied states of the First Coalition and the French First Republic. Europe was a patchwork of kingdoms, principalities and provinces and France wanted to spread its ideals of liberty and equality. The allied aim was to invade France by mobilising its armies along the French frontiers to bully the new republic into submission.

Prince Frederick, Duke of York

In the north, the allies’ immediate aim was to expel the French from the Dutch Republic and the Austrian Netherlands, then march directly to Paris. Britain invested a million pounds to finance the Austrians and Prussians. Twenty thousand British troops under George III’s younger son, Prince Frederick, the Duke of York, were eventually tied up in the campaign.

Henry Dundas

Austrian Prince Josias of Saxe-Coburg was in overall command, but answered directly to Emperor Francis II, while the Duke of York was given objectives set by William Pitt the Younger’s War Secretary, Henry Dundas. Thus, from the outset, mixed political machinations and ignorance hindered the operation.

The French armies, on the other-hand, also suffered. Many from the old royalist officer class had emigrated following the revolution, which left the cavalry severely undermanned and those officers that remained were fearful of being watched by the representatives. The price of failure or disloyalty was the guillotine. After the Battle of Hondschoote, September 1793, the British and Hanoverians under the Duke of York were defeated by General Houchard and General Jourdan. Houchard was arrested for treason for failing to organise a pursuit and guillotined.

By the spring of 1793, the French had virtually marched into the Dutch Republic and Austrian Netherlands unopposed. In May, the British won a victory at Famars and then followed up the success for the siege of Valenciennes. However, instead of concentrating their forces, the allies dispersed in an attempt to mop up the scattered French outposts. The French re-organised and combined their troops into larger corps. Dundas requested the Duke of York to lay siege to Dunkirk who had to abandon it after a severe mauling at Hondschoote.

By the end of the year the allied forces were now thinly stretched. The Duke of York was unable to support the Austrians and Prussians because of supply problems, and because Dundas was withdrawing regiments to re-assign them to the West Indies.

Map of the campaign, early 1794.
The allies (red) display their battle lines stretched over a wide area.

The French counter-offensive in the spring of the following year smashed apart the fragile allied lines. The Austrian command broke down as Francis II called for an immediate withdrawal. After the Battle of Fleurus, the defeated Austrians abandoned their century long hold of the Netherlands to retreat north towards Brussels. The loss of the Austrian support and the Prussians (who had also fallen back) led to the campaign’s collapse.

The Battle of Boxtel in September was a minor incident during the Allied retreat and is chiefly remembered for being the first time Arthur Wesley, (before changing his surname to Wellesley), saw action.

In the aftermath of Fleurus, the Austrians had begun to pull back east towards the line of the Rhine, abandoning any hope of recovering the Netherlands. This forced the British, German and Dutch troops to also retreat, where they destroyed bridges, redoubts and places where the French might use for their advantage.

Colonel Arthur Wesley, 33rd Foot

General Jean-Charles Pichegru, with the French Army of the North, advanced towards the British outpost at Boxtel, a town near the River Dommel, which had the only unspoiled bridge in the area. On the 14th the French captured the town after three hours of musket fire with Hessian troops with the aid of Dutch sympathisers. The Duke of York decided to send General Ralph Abercromby to retrieve the situation and protect the British rear-guard. Abercromby was given ten infantry battalions and ten cavalry squadrons, with the infantry made up of the Guards Brigade and the 3rd Brigade. This second brigade contained four infantry battalions; amongst them was Wesley’s own 33rd Foot. As the senior colonel present, he was given command of the brigade, while Lieutenant-Colonel John Sherbrooke, had command of the regiment.

Sir John Sherbrooke

At seven o’clock on the morning of the 15th, as veils of silver mist hung over the damp fields and dykes, the British force hurried to retake the town. It soon became abundantly clear that they were in danger of running into Pichegru’s main force and would be overwhelmed and outflanked by superior numbers. Abercromby ordered a withdrawal. When French infantry and cavalry charged the British, the retreat threatened to turn into a rout. The situation was saved by the iron resolve of the 33rd Foot’s commander – Sir John Sherbrooke. The battalion formed up into line and fired a series of disciplined volleys that shattered the French – so devastating was the fire that they were forced to retreat. Wesley was not directly responsible for their good behaviour, it was Sherbrooke, but he was overlooked and Wesley was given much of the credit that continues (in error) even to this day.

Drawing of the battle
Rijks Museum, Amsterdam

Plaque commemorating Boxtel at the site

The origins of the term ‘Tommy Atkins’ as a nickname for the British soldier is said to have originated during this fight. It is a name, perhaps today, that conjures in the mind images of the British soldier during the First World War, certainly not from an obscure clash in 1794. It is said that Wesley spotted amongst the wounded a soldier of the 33rd with a long service history. He was dying of three wounds; a sabre slash to his head, a bayonet thrust in his chest, and a bullet in a lung. The wounded private looked up at the colonel and said "It’s alright sir. It’s all in a day’s work". He then died. His name was Thomas Atkins, and his valour is said to have left an impression on the future Duke of Wellington. This may explain why the War Office chose the name ‘Tommy Atkins’ as a representative name in 1815. The Soldier’s Hand Book issued that year for both the cavalry and infantry uses the name as a generic soldier, and Wellington certainly gave his concurrence.

The term was used quite widely, and indeed rather contemptuously, in the mid-19th century. Rudyard Kipling sums this up in his poem ‘Tommy’, one of his Barrack-Room Ballards (1892) in which he contrasts the unkind way in which the common soldier was treated in peace time with the way he was praised as soon as he was needed to defend or fight for his country. ‘Tommy’, written from the soldier’s point of view, raised the public’s awareness of the need for a change of attitude towards the common soldier.
A much earlier origin can be traced back to as early as 1745 when a letter was sent from Jamaica concerning a mutiny, and when it was put down, it was mentioned that "Tommy Atkins behaved splendidly".

By the autumn, The Duke of York had been replaced by Sir William Harcourt, but with rumoured peace talks, the British position looked increasingly vulnerable. The only allied success of that year was that of the ‘Glorious First of June’, when Britain’s Lord Howe defeated a French naval squadron in the Atlantic, sinking one and capturing six French ships.

The winter of 1794 was one of the worst any one had ever imagined. Rivers froze, men died in their sleep, disease was rampant, and the soldier’s uniforms fell apart. It was an extremely harsh winter, mainly because the army was starving due to the collapsed commissariat. Troops started to steal from the local inhabitants. The officers were too lazy or indifferent to control them, and discipline amongst some units broke down completely.

By the spring of 1795, the British reached the allied Hanoverian port of Bremen and arrived home, weak, ill and emaciated. Some never fully recovered.

The Flanders Campaign demonstrated a series of weaknesses within the British Army. The Duke of York was given the role as Commander-in-Chief and brought forth a programme of reform, and it created the professional army that was to fight with much success throughout the Peninsular War.

The allies abandoned the Low Countries. Britain did attempt to undertake a second invasion of the newly proclaimed Batavian Republic until 1799 under The Duke of York, but it faltered and proved disastrous.

Notoriously, a children’s rhyme about the Holland campaign mocked the leadership of the Duke of York:

Oh, The grand old Duke of York,
He had ten thousand men;
He marched them up to the top of the hill,
And he marched them down again.

And when they were up, they were up,
And when they were down, they were down,
And when they were only half-way up,
They were neither up nor down

However, there is another satirical verse attributed to Richard Tarlton, and so was adapted where possible, the latest ‘victim’ being The Duke of York. The oldest version of the song dates from 1642:

The King of France with forty thousand men,
came up the hill and so came downe againe.

Many officers who would continue to serve their countries received their baptism of fire on the fields of Flanders. The Austrian Archduke Charles fought in Flanders, as did several of Napoleon’s marshals: Jourdan, Ney, Murat, Mortier and Bernadotte. The Prussian General Sharnhorst, another great reformer of the Napoleonic Wars, saw battle under the Duke of York.

The one good thing to come out of that debacle was that it created Britain’s professional army that was to fight with much success throughout the Peninsular War, into France and which ultimately ‘Tommy Atkins’ played a part in defeating Napoleon at Waterloo.

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David Cook’s new novella Blood on the Snow, about the British retreat during the Flanders Campaign, will be available on Amazon, Smashwords and CreateSpace from the 27th September. For more information, please visit his Facebook page ‘Liberty or Death’.

Madness, Melancholy and Medicine, pt 2

On the Treatment of Nervous Disorders

by Maria Grace

The early 19th century saw an epidemic rise in nervous disorders. Thought to be maladies of affluence and sophistication, doctors, surgeons and apothecaries rushed in to provide relief to a suffering and often monied clientele, so much so that after doctors started taking nervous disorders seriously, everyone seemed to be taking medication for them, outdoing each other with exaggerated symptoms and buying an array of medical equipment to deal with them. How strangely 21st century it all sounds.

Doctors did not agree as to the cause of nervous conditions.  Some, like Tennet, argued the stomach was at core of the disorder. Others, including Buchan believed the causes more complex.  Indolence and other things that relaxed or weakened the body like drinking tea, frequent bleeding or purging could lead to nervous disorders. While those things which hurt digestion could contribute to the problem, unfavorable postures of the body and intense application to study were equally likely to cause difficulties. 

The symptoms of nervous disorders were often thought to begin in the stomach, considered the center of the nervous system. These symptoms might be accompanied by difficulty breathing; violent palpitations of the heart, sudden flushes or a sense of cold in various parts of the body, pains throughout the body, variable pulse, fits of crying and convulsive laughing, poor sleep and night-mares. 

Progression of the disease would bring headaches, body cramps, mental disturbances including terror, sadness, weak memory and failure of judgment. 

Treatments for Nervous conditions

In many ways, the recommended treatments for nervous disorders were quite progressive. They included a multipronged approach that included diet, exercise, and adjustments of daily routine as well as medication. 

Since digestive troubles were considered a large contributor to nervous disorders, careful attention to diet was a major part of treatment.  “Persons afflicted with nervous diseases ought never to fast long. Their food should be solid and nourishing, but of easy digestion. Fat meats, and heavy sauces, are hurtful. All excess should be carefully avoided. …Wine and water is a very proper drink at meals: but if wine sours on the stomach, or the patient is much troubled with wind, brandy and water will answer better…All weak and warm liquors are hurtful, as tea, coffee, punch, &c. People may find a temporary relief in the use of these, but they always increase the malady, as they weaken the stomach and hurt digestion.” (Buchan)

As some doctors argue today, exercise was seen as superior to all medicines. Horseback riding and walking were considered ideal, but simply being quick about one’s business and active in their chores was recommended as well. When these were too much, even riding in a carriage could produce beneficial effect.

“A change of place, and the sight of new objects, by diverting the mind, has a great tendency to remove these complaints. For this reason a long journey, or a voyage, is of much more advantage than riding short journeys near home. Long sea voyages have an excellent effect; and to those who can afford to take them, and have sufficient resolution, we would by all means recommend this course.” (Buchan)

Patients were also advised to avoid great fires and seek cool dry air to brace and invigorate the body, though chills were to be avoided. Regular cold baths as well as frequently rubbing the body with a special brush, or a coarse linen cloth should be incorporated into the patient’s routine. Further, “they ought likewise to be diverted, and to be kept as easy and cheerful as possible. There is not anything which hurts the nervous system, or weakens the digestive powers, more than fear, grief, or anxiety.” (Buchan)

Though not seen as actual cures, a number of medicines might be recommended to render the patient’s life more comfortable. Mild purgatives to relieve constipation were recommended as were elixirs to improve digestion and strength the stomach.

Though laudanum was easily available, doctors cautioned against their overuse as opiates “only palliate the symptoms, and generally afterwards increase the disease (and) habit render them at last absolutely necessary.” 

Multiple forms of nervous conditions were recognized including: melancholy, nightmare, swoons, low spirits, hysteric affections and hypochondriac affections. Practioners recommended a unique approach to treatment for each disorder though they were all considered modifications of the same basic disease.

 OF MELANCHOLY

Melancholy was considered a state of insanity that rendered an individual incapable of enjoying the pleasures or performing normal duties of life and might terminate in absolute madness.

To ameliorate melancholy, a patient’s diet should consist of cooling and opening foods. This meant primarily a fruit and vegetable diet, avoiding animal proteins, including fish and shell fish. Onions and garlic were to be avoided as they ‘generate thick blood.’ Melancholic patients should avoid strong liquors of every kind, coffee and tea, instead drinking water, whey or small beer.

Open air exercises of all kinds were recommended to “dissolve the viscid humours, … remove obstructions, promote the perspiration, and all the other secretions.”  (Buchan) In contrast, confinement to a closed room would be the very worst thing for the patient.

A patient’s companions could play a key role in his or her improvement by providing the melancholic with a variety of amusements, entertaining stories, pastimes and music. Music in particular was considered highly efficacious.

Since suppression of ‘customary evacuations’, hard digestion or dryness of the brain were physical factors that contributed to a case of melancholy, medical interventions focused on keeping the body open and evacuating.  Bleeding was often employed as a means of evacuation.

Purging medicines as well as those which increased urine or perspiration were often prescribed for days, weeks or even months at a time. External applications such as blistering ointments and warm baths might also be used.

Of Low Spirits

Physicians of the era believed that those with weak nerves were likely to experience some degree of low spirits, a disturbance much like melancholy, but less severe. Symptoms could include sleeplessness, headaches, indigestion and loss of appetite. These would be exacerbated by solitude and gloomy thoughts.

Treatment for low spirits depended on the suspected cause.  Generous diets, cold baths, exercise, cheerful company and good amusements were thought to be the best medicine overall.  When the stomach or bowels were involved, infusions of Peruvian bark with cinnamon or nutmeg, or purges might be used.  When suppression of menstrual or of the hemorrhoidal flux was suspected, bleeding, blistering or other similar approach was called for.

Those with low spirits were cautioned against the use of too much alcohol, “as the unfortunate and melancholy often fly to strong liquors for relief, by which means they never fail to precipitate their own destruction.” (Buchan) 

Of Hypochondriac Affections

Those of melancholy temperament were the most susceptible to hypochondriac attacks in which “the worst consequences imagined from any unusual feeling even of the slightest kind; and in respect to such apprehensions and feelings, there is always the most obstinate believe and persuasion.” (Perkins) Physical symptoms tended to cluster around digestive upsets, and vague physical discomforts.

The hypochondriac patient should enjoy a solid and nourishing diet, avoiding windy vegetables. Flesh meats were highly recommended, the claret or madeira to wash them down. Every kind of exercise and cold bathing were considered beneficial as were long travels to warmer climates.

Medicines for this disease focused on strengthening the alimentary canal and promoting secretions. Thus the recommendation for “gentle opening medicine, [such] as pills composed of equal parts of aloes, rhubarb, and asafœtida, with as much of the elixir proprietatis as is necessary to form the ingredients into pills. Two, three, or four of these may be taken as often as it shall be found needful, to keep the body gently open. Such as cannot bear the asafœtida may substitute Spanish soap in its place.” (Buchan) 

Of Hysteric Affections

Women, who were considered particularly delicate, were thought to be most susceptible to hysterical complaints. These included fits or laughter or crying, fainting, convulsions, low spirits, anxiety, heart palpations and cramps throughout the body.

Treatment of this disease sought first to shorten the fit, then to prevent their return. Strong patients might be bled during a fit.  Weaker ones required more gentle methods to end the spell. 

Strong smells, hot bricks to the bottoms of the feet, placing the feet and legs into hot water or strong rubbing on the legs, arms or belly might be used to bring a patient back from a paroxysm.

Practioners recommended a milk and vegetable diet, with water to drink, supplemented by a small quantity of spirits, to help cure an individual of their fits.  Additionally cold bathing and everything ‘bracing’ and that kept the mind easy and cheerful was encouraged.

Family and friends were cautioned not to offer too much sympathy for these spells lest they inadvertently excite further episodes. Young ladies who experienced hysterical fits were advised to avoid boarding schools when the disease may be caught by imitation.

Medicines to strengthen the alimentary canal, as described above, were considered appropriate for hysterical affections as well. Vomits and opening medicines were sometimes recommended. Interestingly, opium was prescribed in this case, orally, applied externally or even given in clysters.

 Of the Night-mare

Nightmares were thought to result from indigestion. Some recommended a dram of brandy before bed which was thought to prevent the problem.  Others thought it a poor custom and that foods easy to digest, cheerfulness, exercise and a light supper, early in the evening were better interventions.

If something more was needed, a glass of peppermint-water was recommended in place of the brandy.  And for young people ‘full of blood’, frequent purging could be particularly useful.


References

Buchan, William. Domestic Medicine: Or, A Treatise on the Prevention and Cure of Diseases by Regimen and Simple Medicines, 11th ed., (1790)
Parissien, Steven. Regency Style. Phaidon Press Limited (2000)
Perkins, John. Every Woman Her Own House-keeper; Or, the Ladies’ Library. James Ridgeway: London (1790)
Sales, Roger. Jane Austen and Representations of Regency England. Routledge (1994)
Shoemaker, Robert B. Gender in English Society 1650-1850 Pearson Education Limited (1998)
Tennet, John . Every Man his own Doctor: or, The Poor Planter's Physician, Williamsburg, VA, (1736).
The Home Book of Health and Medicine. Philadelphia: Key and Biddle. (1834)
Wilson, Ben. The Making of Victorian Values, Decency & Dissent in Britain: 1789-1837 The Penguin Press (2007)
Wiltshire, John - Contrib. to Jane Austen in Context. Cambridge University Press (2005)

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 Maria Grace is the author of Darcy's Decision,  The Future Mrs. Darcy, All the Appearance of Goodness, and Twelfth Night at Longbourn and Remember the Past.  Click here to find her books on Amazon. For more on her writing and other Random Bits of Fascination, visit her website. You can also like her on Facebook, follow on Twitter or email her.

Victorian Era English Forklore Legend: Spring Heeled Jack

by Regina Jeffers

As a native West Virginian, I grew up on the Mothman prophecies, the story line behind the 2002 movie of the same name, which was intermixed with the unexplained collapse of the Silver Bridge in Point Pleasant, West Virginia. The Mothman was a legendary “Devil-like” creature, who made himself known to many of the town’s people – some claiming the ten-foot moth-like man was an alien. Naturally, when I came across a similar Victorian Era legend, I was completely fascinated by the concept.

The first claim of a sighting of Spring-heeled Jack came in 1837 in Sheffield, England. The last reported sighting is said to have been in Liverpool in 1904. An entity of English folklore, “Jack” has made appearances in much of Great Britain, including Scotland. Reportedly, a girl by the name of Mary Stevens was returning to her employment in the Lavender Hill area after having spent time with her parents in Battersea. Passing through Clapham Common, the girl was accosted by a strange figure who leapt at her from a dark alley. According to Miss Stevens, the man held her in a tight grip and kissed her face. He also ripped her clothes and pawed at her with claws as cold as those of a corpse. Her attacker fled when she screamed. Residents could find no such attacker when they searched the area.

The same man supposedly attacked a second woman on the following day, very near to Miss Stevens’ attack. Eventually, the legend changed: the attacker would jump in front of a passing carriage, frightening the coachman and the horses and causing the coachman injury. He would then make his escape over a wall while babbling with a high-pitched laughter. The press labeled the “man” Spring-heeled Jack.

“The attacker was tall and thin, had pointed ears and fiery eyes, and wore a cloak. He tore at his female victims’ clothes and ripped their flesh with hands that felt like iron. When he escaped, he did not run; he bounced away. Those who saw his feet swore he had springs in his boot heels.” (Science: Spring-heeled Jack) 

On 9 January 1838, Sir John Cowan, the Lord Mayor of London, revealed an anonymous complaint at a public session held in the Mansion House. The correspondent, who signed the letter “a resident of Peckham,” wrote…

“It appears that some individuals (of, as the writer believes, the highest ranks of life) have laid a wager with a mischievous and foolhardy companion, that he durst not take upon himself the task of visiting many of the villages near London in three different disguises – a ghost, a bear, and a devil; and moreover, that he will not enter a gentleman’s gardens for the purpose of alarming the inmates of the house. The wager, has, however, been accepted, and the unmanly villain has succeeded in depriving seven ladies of their senses, two of whom are not likely to recover, but to become burdens to their families.

“At one house the man rang the bell, and on the servant coming to open the door, this worse than brute stood in no less dreadful figure than a spectre clad most perfectly. The consequence was that the poor girl immediately swooned, and has never from that moment been in her senses.

“The affair has now been going on for some time, and, strange to say, the papers are still silent on the subject. The writer has reason to believe that they have the whole history at their finger-ends but, through interested motives, are induced to remain silent.” (Simpson, Jacqueline. Spring-Heeled Jack (leaflet, January 2001) International Society for Contemporary Legend Research.)

The matter was reported in The Times on 9 January, with other newsprints following in the next week. The Lord Mayor received a large number of letters with reports of similar pranks. Stories from Hammersmith, Kensington, Ealing, Camberwell, Vauxhall, Brixton, Stockwell, Lewisham, and Blackheath poured in. The Brighton Gazette printed a like story in April 1838.

Similar entities have been reported around the world. In Chile, one finds “La Viuda” or “the widow.” The Spring Man of Prague, Pérák, is spoken of in Czechoslovakia. Other names include Krampus, London Monster, Owlman, Jiangshi, and Jersey Devil.

“In 1808, a letter to the editor of the Sheffield Times recounted how ‘Years ago a famous Ghost walked and played many pranks in this historic neighbourhood.’ The writer went on to identify this entity as the ‘Park Ghost or Spring Heeled Jack,’ and briefly described its ability to take enormous leaps and frighten random passers-by, but concluded, ‘He was a human ghost as he ceased to appear when a certain number of men came with guns and sticks to test his skin.’”  (The Legend of Spring Heeled Jack) 

Two teenage girls were likely the most famous of the victims. Jane Alsop claimed to have answered her father’s door on the evening of 19 February 1838 to a man claiming to be a police officer. Foolishly, she followed the officer to the adjoining lane because he had requested she provide him a light as part of his investigation. Instead, the “officer” threw off the cloak he wore. The girl reported that the man vomited blue and white flames, and his eyes were upon fire. She also said he wore a large helmet and a white oilskin. He tore her gown with his claws, as well as leaving marks upon her neck and arms. The sudden appearance of one of her sisters sent the attacker fleeing from the scene.

Lucy Scales and her sister were approached some eight days later. They were returning home from a visit with their brother, a butcher in Limehouse. As the girls passed Green Dragon Alley, a man in a large cloak spit blue flames in her face, which deprived Lucy of her sight and brought on violent fits. Their brother heard the screams and came to his sisters’ rescues. The difference from the Scales’ report was Lucy claimed the attacker was tall, thin, and gentlemanly in his appearance.

The Times boasted a headline reading “The Late Outrage At Old Ford” on 2 March 1838. It was a report on the Jane Alsop attack. One Thomas Millbank had bragged to his drinking buddies at the Morgan’s Arms that he was Spring-heeled Jack. Millbank was immediately arrested and tried at Lambeth Street court. The arresting officer was James Lea, who had earlier arrested William Corder, the Red Barn Murderer. (See my article on The Red Barn Murder for more details.) Millbank was shown to have been wearing white overalls and a greatcoat on the evening of the attack. The candle he dropped was also located. He escaped conviction only because Alsop swore her attacker breathed fire. Obviously, Millbank could not perform such a “skill.”

Spring-heeled Jack became one of the most popular characters of the Victorian period. He was the subject of several penny dreadfuls, as well as cheap theatricals. In the Punch and Judy shows, the devil was often named “Spring-heeled Jack.” In 1843, a second wave of sightings swept England. Reports of the “devil-like” creature came from Northamptonshire and East Anglia and Teignmouth in Devon. In 1847, Captain Finch was convicted of two charges of assault against women during which his accusers described him as being seen in a disguise with bullock’s hide, a skullcap, horns, and a mask. The legend was linked with the phenomenon of the “Devil’s Footprints,” which appeared in Devon in February 1855. Although sightings have been made into the 1990s, the last major reports came in the 1870s.

No one was ever identified as Spring-heeled Jack. The crimes were never prosecuted. Some believe there must be a logical explanation, while others choose the more fanciful approach. A popular rumor in the 1840s was that “Jack” was an Irish nobleman, the Marquess of Waterford. Waterford was known for his drunken brawls and his vandalism. Reportedly, the marquess was not so beloved by the fairer sex. E. Cobham Brewer, the compiler of Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, as well as The Reader’s Handbook, accused Waterford of the stunts, saying the Marquess was known to amuse himself by frightening unaware travelers and others often mimicked Waterford’s efforts. In 1842, the Marquess married and settled in Curraghmore House, County Waterford, and reportedly led an exemplary life until he died in a riding accident in 1859.

“The most recent of a Spring Heeled Jack type creature comes an elementary school in West Surrey. Children only see him there, but they describe him as ‘all black, with red eyes and had a funny all-in-one white suit with badges on it.’ They also said he could run as fast as a car, and would approach dark haired children and tell them ‘I want you.’

“Of course, none of this means Spring Heeled Jack is supernatural, or extra-terrestrial, or anything other than the invention of a few generations of adroit, and lucky, pranksters. Some have claimed that the phenomenon is merely an exaggeration of the activities of an old religious zealot who used to dance on rooftops (i.e., E. C. Brewer). Others have identified possible Jacks: Waterford, a law student named Henry Hawkins, and somebody well connected enough to have a descendant bar the use of his name in connection with the attacks.” (The Legend of Spring Heeled Jack)

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About the Author:

Regina Jeffers is the author of Austen-inspired novels, including Darcy’s Passions, Darcy’s Temptation, Vampire Darcy’s Desire, Captain Wentworth’s Persuasion, The Phantom of Pemberley, Christmas at Pemberley, The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy, Honor and Hope and The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy. She also writes Regency romances: The Scandal of Lady Eleanor, A Touch of Velvet, A Touch of Cashémere, A Touch of Grace, and The First Wives’ Club. A Time Warner Star Teacher and Martha Holden Jennings Scholar, Jeffers serves as a consultant in media literacy. Currently living outside Charlotte, North Carolina, she spends her time with her writing, gardening, and her adorable grandchildren. To learn more of Regina's books or her personal appearances visit her website. www.rjeffers.com

Giveaway: What a Rake Wants by Maggi Andersen

Maggi is giving away an ecopy of What a Rake Wants to an international winner. You can read about the book HERE. Please comment below on this post to enter.

The Battle of Waterloo: Did the Weather Change History?

by Regina Jeffers

Background: The Battle of Waterloo was fought south of Brussels between the Allied armies commanded by the Duke of Wellington from Britain and the 72-year-old General Blücher from Prussia, and the French under the command of Napoleon Bonaparte. The French defeat at Waterloo brought an end to 23 years of war starting with the French Revolutionary wars in 1792 and continuing through the Napoleonic Wars. There was an eleven-month respite with Napoleon forced to abdicate and exiled to the island of Elba. The unpopularity of Louis XVIII, however, and the social and economic instability of France brought Napoleon back to Paris in March 1815. The Allies declared war once again. Napoleon's defeat at Waterloo marked the end of the so-called '100 Days,’ the Emperor's final bid for power, and the final chapter in his remarkable career.

Why did Napoleon lose?

The battle was closely fought; either side could have won, but mistakes in leadership, communication, and judgment led, in the end, to the French defeat. Wellington said his victory was a 'damned near-run thing.’

Communication was the key. The fastest means was sending messages with horseback riders, but this created a delay in instructions being carried out, and chances were high of messages being intercepted and not arriving. Given the numbers of soldiers and the distances involved, potential fatalities could occur if communications were disrupted, and Napoleon did not set up the means to ensure that orders had been received.

In choosing leaders, Napoleon used poor judgement. Marshal Grouchy was considered a great General, but this battle was too much for him. He was tardy in his pursuit of the Prussians, giving them time to regroup, and showed little initiative. Ney was also unreliable as a leader, not taking advantage of his situation in the Quatre-Bras precursory battle and then in leading the cavalry which was not supported by infantry and artillery at Waterloo.

47,000 soldiers died in the Battle of Waterloo in an area as small as 6.5 km by 3.5 km.

To see an hour by hour breakdown of the events, see BBC History. And, of course, the Waterloo 1815 website has intriguing details.

Something outside Napoleon’s control, but a matter that caused many of his problems was the weather during June 16-18, 1815. The French and Allies experienced the same conditions, but Napoleon's loss most likely can be attributed to his arrogance and inflated self-confidence which stood in the way of reason.

The Waterloo area experienced heavy rains on June 17 and the morning of the 18th. Some military strategists suggest that the soaked ground would have delayed the battle and given the Prussian army more time to join Wellington. Even Victor Hugo spoke of the weather's influence on the outcome of the battle. In Les Misérables, Chapter 3, the commentator says, “If it had not rained in the night between the 17th and the 18th of June, 1815, the fate of Europe would have been different. A few drops of water, more or less, decided the downfall of Napoleon. All that Providence required in order to make Waterloo the end of Austerlitz was a little more rain, and a cloud traversing the sky out of season sufficed to make a world crumble.”

The article by Dennis Wheeler and Gaston Demarée, “The weather of the Waterloo campaign 16 to 18 1815,” cites passages from those who had firsthand experience in the battle.

An excerpt from a letter written by Private William Wheeler of the 51st Kings Infantry reads, “…[a]nd as it began to rain the road soon became very heavy…the rain increased, the thunder and lightning approached nearer, and with it came the enemy…the rain beating with violence, the guns roaring, repeated bright flashes of lightning attended with tremendous volleys of Thunder that shook the very earth…”

Private John Lewis of the 95th Rifles wrote, “…[t]he rain fell so hard that the oldest soldiers there never saw the like…”

Napoleon planned his attack for 8 A.M., but some experts believe it was closer to eleven that he struck. Besides the wet ground slowing the progress of Napoleon’s heavy artillery, one must consider that cannon shot was meant to fall short of the target and skip along the ground to do the most damage. Under muddy conditions, the effectiveness of the  weapon was compromised. The cavalry could not easily move forward. Captain Cotter of the South Lincolnshire regiment spoke of, “…[m]ud through which we sank more than ankle deep….” The cavalry's charge was slowed from a gallop to a canter. A mist rose and mixed with gun smoke. Winds, however, did not sweep away the “veritable fog of war.”

The French infantry at last heading for the Anglo-Dutch lines crossed through fields of wet rye. Muskets and rifles which had been loaded before the march would no doubt have misfired because of damp powder. Napoleon’s assault would have suffered more than Wellington’s defensive lines under such conditions.


So, how do the events at Waterloo fit into one of my novels? In The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam returns from service under the Duke of Wellington at Waterloo to find personal disaster awaiting him. His new wife, his cousin Georgiana Darcy, was to meet him at his estate in Scotland. Georgiana, however, has been told that he did not survive the Battle of Waterloo, and in grief she has run from the manor house and is assumed to have lost her life on the unforgiving moors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shackled in the dungeon of a macabre castle with no recollection of her past, a young woman finds herself falling in love with her captor – the estate’s master. Yet, placing her trust in him before she regains her memory and unravels the castle’s wicked truths would be a catastrophe.

Far away at Pemberley, the Darcys happily gather to celebrate the marriage of Kitty Bennet. But a dark cloud sweeps through the festivities: Georgiana Darcy has disappeared without a trace. Upon receiving word of his sister’s likely demise, Darcy and wife, Elizabeth, set off across the English countryside, seeking answers in the unfamiliar and menacing Scottish moors.

How can Darcy keep his sister safe from the most sinister threat she has ever faced when he doesn’t even know if she’s alive? True to Austen’s style and rife with malicious villains, dramatic revelations and heroic gestures, this suspense-packed mystery places Darcy and Elizabeth in the most harrowing situation they have ever faced – finding Georgiana before it is too late.

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Regina Jeffers, an English teacher for thirty-nine years, considers herself a Jane Austen enthusiast. She is the author of 13 novels, including Darcy’s Passions, Darcy’s Temptation, The Phantom of Pemberley, Christmas at Pemberley, The Scandal of Lady Eleanor, A Touch of Velvet, and A Touch of Cashémere. A Time Warner Star Teacher and Martha Holden Jennings Scholar, as well as a Smithsonian presenter, Jeffers often serves as a media literacy consultant. She resides outside of Charlotte, NC, where she spends time teaching her new grandson the joys of being a child.

“Nor Spare Any Expense to Secure Canada…”: Marquis de la Galissoniere’s Advice for Opposing England

By Rosanne E. Lortz

A cliff notes version of history will tell you that England, later called Britain, began its rise to empire during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I. The defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588 demonstrated that the English were not afraid to tangle with the toughest of them, and the colonies founded in the New World throughout the next few decades began to spread English influence far and wide.

England was not the only one to establish colonies in North America, however. France set up its own colonies in Canada and New Orleans. As England's longstanding enemies from the old continent, the French extended this rivalry to the new one. As luck would have it (or perhaps climate temperature), the French colonies in the New World did not thrive to the same level as the English colonies did. But although the French colonies did not send streams of gold to their home country, they did help out in at least one significant way--by being a thorn in England’s side.

Roland-Michel Barrin de la Galissoniere

The Marquis de la Galissoniere was the French governor of New France from 1747 to 1749. He was a well-liked, well-educated man who encouraged scientific pursuits in astronomy and cartography. In December of 1750, following his departure from the French Colonies in North America, he wrote a memoir explaining the significance of France’s New World holdings.

The letter focuses mostly on the colony of Canada, with only a few mentions of the large territory of Louisiana. The Marquis' assessment of Canada's amenities was not always complimentary. He called Canada “a barren frontier” that “has always been a burthen to France.” But despite this, he did not recommend that the colony should be abandoned. “By its position…it constitutes…the strongest barrier that can be opposed to the ambition of the English.”

How did the Marquis know that Canada was a barrier against English opposition? “We may dispense with giving any other proofs of this," he wrote, "than the constant efforts they have made, for more than a century, against that Colony.”

La Galissoniere pointed out that Canada alone “is in a position to wage war against them [the English] in all their possessions on the Continent of America.” As a strategic base for attacking the English, Canada must be preserved.

Even though the English possessed greater numbers in America, the Marquis noted that the French soldiers from Canada were able to do quite well against the English militarily. The first reason for that was “the great number of alliances that French keep up with the Indian Nations.” The second reason was because of the large number of French Canadians who, “are accustomed to live in the woods like the Indians, and become thereby not only qualified to lead them to fight the English, but to wage war even against these same Indians when necessity obliges.”

La Galissoniere encouraged the French to maintain this military superiority in the colonies since it was impossible for them to achieve naval superiority over the English. By the mid-eighteenth century, the English Navy had already become a formidable power and a danger to France. “If anything can, in fact, destroy the superiority of France in Europe, it is the Naval force of the English.”

La Galissoniere was well aware of the difficulty of defeating the English at sea. Though by no means a famous admiral, he did win one naval battle against the English a few years after his stint as governor in the New World. Étienne Taillemite calls the battle a “very modest success” which “created a stir in France out of all proportion to its real importance.” No doubt the stir surrounding the victory was due to the infrequency of such occurrences.

“No other resource remains then,” said La Galissoniere, acknowledging the impossibility of French naval supremacy, “but to attack them [the English] in their possessions; that cannot be effected by forces sent from Europe except with little hope of success, and at vast expense, whilst by fortifying ourselves in America and husbanding means in the Colonies themselves, the advantages we possess can be preserved, and even increased at a very trifling expense, in comparison with the cost of expeditions fitted out in Europe.”

Financing a war in Europe was expensive, but financing a war in the colonies was cheap! La Galissoniere goes on to explain how French attacks on the English colonies would also protect Spain’s colonies in Mexico. (In the year 1750, Spain was an ally whose gold France was hoping to profit from.) Following this, he concludes his memoir with this pithy paragraph:

All that precedes sufficiently demonstrates that it is of the utmost importance and of absolute necessity not to omit any means, nor spare any expense to secure Canada, inasmuch as that is the only way to wrest America from the ambition of the English, and as the progress of their empire in that quarter of the globe is what is most capable of contributing to their superiority in Europe.

This memoir written by the Marquis de la Galissoniere is a small but clear window into the politics of the mid-eighteenth century. It shows how the interactions between various European colonies played into the power struggle on the European continent, and how the French were willing to maintain a colony that was “a burthen” if that colony would in any way thwart “the ambition of the English.”

________________________________

Rosanne E. Lortz is the author of two books: I Serve: A Novel of the Black Prince, a historical adventure/romance set during the Hundred Years' War, and Road from the West: Book I of the Chronicles of Tancred, the beginning of a trilogy which takes place during the First Crusade.

________________________________

BIBLIOGRAPHY

"Marquis de la Galissoniere Memoir on the French Colonies in North America December 1750." American History: From Revolution to Reconstruction and Beyond. http://www.let.rug.nl/usa/documents/1701-1750/marquis-de-la-galissoniere-memoir-on-the-french-colonies-in-north-america-december-1750.php (Accessed September 4, 2014).

Taillemite, Etienne. "Barrin De La Galissonière, Roland-Michel, Marquis De La Galissonière." Dictionary of Canadian Biography. http://www.biographi.ca/en/bio/barrin_de_la_galissoniere_roland_michel_3E.html (Accessed September 4, 2014).

Mining and Smelting Copper to Bronze, 2300 BCE

by Paul Burnette

How would you ever be able to extract usable copper from the earth, heat it sufficiently to allow it to combine with another metal to improve its durability, then be poured into a mold of some kind, and finally shape it into a usable tool or weapon? It would seem a tricky task even today, but equipped only with Stone Age tools, we might feel it to be truly daunting.

First steps involved what it took to remove copper or tin from the earth where it had formed as the earth cooled. Some authorities call this step fire setting, as a groove would be pounded into the rock along the line the miner wanted it to break on, wood laid along the groove then set burning, and after the rock was heated along the desired line, cold water would be thrown on and the rock would crack, breaking pieces away from the larger formation. Subsequently, using rock hammers again, the miners would pound the rocks into smaller and smaller pieces, continuously pounding and sorting, working till the fragments were small enough that pieces containing copper or tin ore could be identified and separated from the rest of the rock fragments. A crude and labor-intensive process, but much the same steps as mining today.

At some point the miners were ready to smelt the ore and further separate or partially purify the metal they were expecting. There might also have been more than one step to arrive at the desired concentration. The finer pieces of copper-rich ore would be placed in a pit furnace lined with clay laid over the sandstone or limestone base, fired by charcoal and possibly a bellows so that the copper would reach its melting point and form droplets as it cooled. The droplets would be collected from a clay lining and re-melted in probably the same furnace so that they formed irregularly-shaped ingots, which could then be collected and moved to where the casting would be managed. Of course, these ingots were not regular in shape, and they were not regular in composition, the process never yielding anything like pure copper, but rather alloys of copper with tin, zinc, arsenic, or other metals.

But that wasn’t a problem now, since the alloy would have a lower melting point than pure copper, and thus would be somewhat simpler to work with than if it was pure. For instance, a tin-bronze alloy is not too difficult to work, and melts at 950 degrees C rather than the 1084 degrees C of copper, making it easier to cast. 5-15% tin and 85-95% copper is the ratio that produces bronze that is fairly easy to work and tough enough to hold an edge better than stone, and getting tougher as it is worked with a hammer. More skilled smiths probably could detect variations in hardness or toughness in the ingots they were working with their hammers, and could then select which ones would be better for putting into tools and which ingots would be better fitted for an ornament of some kind.

Because arsenic-laden copper ores were much more common than tin-laden copper ore, it is likely that early bronze-smiths would have experienced some health issues from breathing arsenic fumes over a period of time. Thus the tin-copper alloy of bronze became the material of choice, but because of their lower incidence in nature, sources of tin came to be very important to bronze smiths as they probably at some point made the connection between health issues they were experiencing and the arsenic fumes they breathed when they worked.

The casting process could have been more complicated yet. Preparations had to be made. A smaller ‘furnace’ had to be constructed. The smith would dig a hole about a foot deep and line it with stones, perhaps, then a layer of clay. This pit could be heightened and reach higher temperatures by stacking the stones and then lining the whole with the clay layer. A clay tube then needed to be produced to carry the breath from the bellows into the furnace, which was held or mounted, possibly, at the mouth of the tube which needed to be several feet from the edge of the furnace to protect the bellows operator from the intense heat generated by the furnace. This is a possible situation in which one could smelt the copper ores to win the copper.

a. Bellows
b. Bellows-pipe (clay)
c. Ideal place for the ore or a crucible with copper or bronze
d. Charcoal, possibly mixed with copper ores
e. Loam lining
f. Sand / loam mixture
g. Stones

The crucible (c) would be simply a shallow, open clay container that would hold the desired amount of ingots, but would allow maximum exposure to the heat of the charcoal. Lifting the crucible out of the charcoal would possibly be accomplished with wooden tools, like a paddle, perhaps made from green wood or wood long soaked in water. The molten bronze would then be poured into a mold, the crucible and mold perhaps being held with other wooden implements of some kind. It seems reasonable that at least two – or perhaps three or four – smiths would have been required for this step. Especially since the hot metal would cool very rapidly.

Of course a mold would need to be prepared before the smelting began. Molds could have been made using clay or other materials to form the shape of the desired object, say a knife blade or axe head. The smith might make a wooden outer container, hollowed out and halved, each half ready to receive half of the clay. A model object could be carved from wood and pressed it into the clay in each half of the wooden container. Then the model would be removed carefully so as to leave the shape of the model in the clay. After the clay dried, the two halves of the wooden container would then be fastened together so that the full shape of the knife or axe head would be left inside the clay inside the container. A stick would have been pressed into the center of the space so that an entry passage would be left for the metal to be poured in.

So finally the molten copper-tin alloy would be poured into the mold and allowed to cool a bit before the wooden container was removed from around the clay, and then the clay would be chipped away from the cooled metal. At this point the metal could be worked in a forging process – heating, hammering, then reheating and hammering repeatedly – that would eventually produce the tool or weapon intended. It was possible, of course, that the metalworker could during this process impart any sort of decorative design to the metal that was desired. Forging step being completed, the smith would then have to affix a handle to the tang of the knife, or insert and fasten a handle to the axe head. And the process would be complete, a fairly tough, hard weapon or tool that would serve its owner more reliably, probably, than a stone tool could have.

It is this process, labor intensive as it is, that the warrior-smith Aiman teaches to youngster Ulen and to others of the Ealan Clan in the novel Bronze and Stones, and it is the value of this technology that makes Aiman so important to that group of hitherto New Stone Age people that they will not allow him to return to his home, and why he becomes a man remarkable in his time for such high status and wealth among the people living near Stonehenge in the 24th Century before the Christian era.

Sources:
“Chapter 4: The Bronze Age,” UC Davis: Earth and Planetary Sciences (1999). Web. 7/23/14. http://mygeologypage.ucdavis.edu/cowen/~gel115/115ch4.html
“Images about bronze melting.” Angelfire. (2005). Web. 7/24/14. http://www.angelfire.com/me/ik/picsbt.html

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Paul Burnette has been a USAF officer, graduate student, teacher, school administrator, college teacher, and is now retired with wife Jane. They have four children and four grandchildren. He presently lives in Clemson, South Carolina, previously in Denver, Biloxi, Goldsboro (NC), Raleigh, and Athens (GA). A member of the Oconee Writers Association, he has published professional articles, two short stories, and one novel, presently working on a sequel.

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The Puzzle of Two Aethelrics

by Richard Denning

The period of history around the late 6th and early 7th Century could be referred to as the 'darkest years of the dark ages' for the documentation of events at these times is sketchy and incomplete. The writer of historical fiction set in this period must become a detective themselves and solve the mysteries of the past or at least come up with a plausible interpretation of events. An example of just such a mystery is that of the relations between the two Kingdoms of Bernicia and Deira that become the Kingdom of Northumbria - the powerful kingdom in Britain in the late 7th century.

Bernicia was located around Bamburgh and Lindisfarne and its dynasty included a King Ida, who had a son (amongst many), Aethelric who in turn had a son called Aethelfrith.

Deira meanwhile was located in Yorkshire and along the Humbar and had a powerful king called Aelle whose had a son called Edwin.

What we do know is that out of a dynasty of warrior kings of the northern kingdom of Bernicia, Aethelfrith emerges and conquers or absorbs the southern kingdom of Deria (Aelle by now was dead), marries its princess, Acha and sends its prince, Edwin into exile. Edwin wanders the southern kingdoms for years and then returns from exile some considerable time later and takes back his throne from the usurper around 617 AD. Edwin himself dies in battle around 632 and Aethelfrith's sons return and retake Northumbria. Its a fascinating ding-dong story of fluctuating fortunes.

Within that skeleton though there are two versions of history that MIGHT have happened.

History Version A:
Aethelric of Bernicia succeeeds Aelle about 588 and he or his son Aethelfrith annexes Deira. Prince Edwin (probably only age 3 or maybe 8 goes into exile for 29 years).

History Version B:
Aethelric of Bernicia's son Aethelfrith succeeds him to the throne of Bernicia ONLY in 593. He later invades Deira circa 603 to 605 AD, possibly kills the king (who may have been also called Aethelric - but this time Aethelric of of Deira) and rules all of Northumbria for 12 years before Edwin takes it back. This would mean Edwin goes into exile as a teenager aged about 18 or so and spends maybe 13 to 14 years in exile.

In his recent The King of the North biography of Oswald,  Max Adams plumps for Version A having Edwin go off into exile around 590. (This is a good account of Oswald's life, btw, and well worth the read). I personally, however, favour Version B.

Which version is right?

Well, here is the written evidence:

Anglo-Saxon Chronicle
A.D. 560. This year Ceawlin undertook the government of the West-Saxons, and Ella, on the death of Ida, that of the Northumbrians, each of whom reigned thirty winters.
A.D. 588. This year died King Ella, and Ethelric reigned after him five years.
A.D. 593. This year Ethelfrith succeeded to the kingdom of the Northumbrians. He was the son of Ethelric--Ethelric of Ida.
A.D. 617. This year was Ethelfrith, king of the Northumbrians, slain by Redwald, king of the East-Angles, and Edwin, the son of Ella, having succeeded to the kingdom, subdued all Britain

Ok, so that seems nice and clear. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle has an Alla (Aelle) replaced by an Ethelric who is succeeded in turn by his son. It fits VERSION A of history nicely. If we don't dig any deeper our job is done, and we can all get home for tea and crumpets. But I guess we will see what Bede has to say.

Bede, On the Reckoning of Time
He [Pope Gregory] sent to Britain Augustine, Mellitus and John, and many others, with God-fearing monks with them, to convert the English to Christ. However, the people of the Angles north of the river Humber, under Kings Aelle and Aethelfrith, did not at this time hear the Word of life.
--Bede, On the Reckoning of Time, Chapter 66.

So Bede is telling us that at the time of the coming of Augustine to Britain that NORTH OF THE HUMBER ie in Northumbria there were two kings: Aelle and Aethelfrith. So when was this? When did Augustine come to Britian. Bede tells us:

Bede, Ecclesiastical History
"Augustine, coming into Britain, first preached in the Isle of Thanet to King Ethelbert, and having obtained licence, entered the Kingdom of Kent, in order to preach therein." (A.D. 597.)

So in 597 Aelle was still alive. If Bede was right, he did not die in 588 then which contradicts the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. He was alive and moreover was still a King and ruling in Deira. If that was the case, what was Aethelfrith doing? He could not ALSO have been ruling Deira.

Lets see what Nennius had to say in his Historia Brittonum.

Chapter 63: "Eadfered Flesaurs reigned twelve years in Bernicia, and twelve others in Deira"

Now Aethelfrith (Eadfered) died about 616/617 (Bede tells us this elsewhere as does the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle) so working backwards he ruled Deira AND Bernicia from about 604 or 605 and before then was only ruling the northern bit of Northumbria - Bernicia.

The plot thickens when you consult the Historia Britonum about the genealogy of the Kings of Bernicia.

"Ida had twelve sons, Adda, Belric Theodric, Thelric, Theodhere, Osmer, and one queen Bearnoch, Ealric. Ethelric begat Ethelfrid: the same is Aedlfred Flesaur.
"Adda, son of Ida, reigned eight years; Ethelric, son of Adda, reigned four years. Theodoric, son of Ida, reigned seven years. Freothwulf reigned six years. Hussa reigned seven years."

Where on earth do all these Kings fit in to VERSION A? The short answer is they do not. VERSION A of history is essentially the version based mostly on the Anglo Saxon Chronicle. The problem is that the ASC was written in the reign of Alfred the Great three hundred years after the time it refers to. By that time the Vikings had destroyed Northumbria and many of its records. The monks compiling the ASC look like they tried to simplify matters and merged the chronologies of Deira and Bernicia and the royal genealogies blurring the issue. They essentially assumed that Aelle was ruling all of Norththumbria, and in turn his successors Aethelric of Bernicia and Aelethfrith were also ruling the whole show. Fortunately we have primary sources closer to events in Bede and Nennius to go to.

Bede was writing only a hundred years after the events, Nennius two hundred years afterwards and both before the Viking's changed the face of Northumbria. They show us that the whole situation is much more complex than the ASC records. Whilst Aelle is ruling Deira for probably 30 years, carving out a Kingdom in Yorkshire, the Bernicians go through a whole dynasty of kings as they too fight and claw a kingdom together against the might of Owain and Urien of Rheged (but that is a whole other story).

What they give us are facts that allow for a VERSION B which relies upon there having been a second King Aethelric in DEIRA as well as the one in Bernicia. This Deiran Aethelric succeeded Aelle perhaps a year or two AFTER the Augustine mission came to Britain. If he ruled for 5 years that brings us conveniently to about 604/605. The facts fit much better.

So in Bernicia, Aethelric of Bericia the son of Ida is (eventually and after a few other kings) succeeded by Aethelfrith who for 12 years rules Bernicia alone and then in 604/5 takes over Deira, possibly killing Aethelric of DEIRA and sending young Edwin into Exile.

The Kings of Deira - showing where Aethelric may have fitted in

Aethelric of Deira step forward a moment

So, if this Aethelric of Deira existed and was king for 5 years after Aelle, who was he? He is not mentioned clearly in any genealogy. Well there are a few possibilities:
A) Aelle probably had more than one son. Aethelric might have been an older brother to Edwin. Edwin certainly had a nephew Hereric who must have come from somewhere.
B) He might have been a brother of Aelle. Aelle had a brother Aelfric, who is mentioned by Bede as being a father to Osric - who briefly succeeded Edwin in 633.
C) He may have been a more distant relative, eg a cousin or even a total outsider who stepped in to rule after Aelle died when Edwin was too young to be king.

What sort of a man was Aethelric of Deira? Well William of Malmesbury speaks of Aethelric "son of Ida" as being a pitiful, elderly man and shadow of the glory of Aethelfrith his son. This seems at odds with other descriptions of Aethelric of Bernicia as being possibly the man the British called Firebrand, a fierce warrior lord and opponent of Urien and Owain of Rheged who drove his armies deep into the British lands and was remembered in Welsh poetry centuries later. Again here we must remember that Malmesbury was writing his history five hundred years after the events and probably reliant at least partially on the ASC.

I think Malmesbury might have confused WHO he was talking about. I think his description is much more likely to be applicable to Aethelric of Deira, a man who succeeded Aelle after his predecessor's long and glorious reign and perhaps was never suited to kingship. Certainly it seems he could do little to halt the expansion of the ambitious Aethefrith of Bernicia who it seems either dominated him politically or, most likely, killed him and took his throne, sending his younger brother, Edwin into exile.

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Richard Denning is a historical fiction author whose main period of interest is the Early Anglo-Saxon Era. His Northern Crown series explores the late 6th and early 7th centuries through the eyes of a young Saxon lord.

Explore the darkest years of the dark ages with Cerdic.

www.richarddenning.co.uk

The West Briton

by Jane Jackson

We are so used to 24-hour news with information arriving from all over the world minutes after events occur, it’s easy to forget that two hundred years ago news travelled at the speed of a galloping horse or a fast sailing ship. But though dispatches might take days, weeks or months to arrive, their impact on local people was no less profound.

The first edition of the West Briton was published in 1810 by John Heard from offices in Boscawen Street, Truro, heart of Cornish high society in the 1800s. This was a Whig newspaper and was established to promote an alternative view to a rival Tory paper first published in 1803.

The term Whig entered British political life during the controversy of 1678–1681 about whether or not King Charles II's brother, James, should be allowed to succeed to the throne on Charles's death. Whig was a term of abuse applied to those who believed James should be excluded from on the grounds that he was a Roman Catholic.

Evolving during the C18th, the Whig party supported the great aristocratic families, the Protestant Hanoverian succession, and toleration for nonconformist Protestants (dissenters such as Presbyterians.) It drew support from emerging industrial interests and wealthy merchants. By the first half of the C19th the Whig political programme came to encompass not only the supremacy of parliament over the monarch and support for free trade, but also Catholic emancipation, the abolition of slavery and expansion of the franchise.

The term Tory - originally applied to Irish Catholic bandits – was used in the C17th to deride those who believed in the principals of hereditary succession to the crown and non-resistance to the monarch. Despite falling into disarray in 1688, within parliament a significant block of members remained bound together by support for the established Church of England, hostility to Nonconformists, and continued insistence upon the principle of divine monarchical right.

Briefly back in power during Queen Anne's reign, in 1714 they were undone by their support for James II and the Stuart Royal family’s claim to the British throne. The Tory power base was the conservative rural gentry which violently opposed the taxation required to pay for the wars with France that the Whigs, with their belief in free trade, stood to profit from. They returned to government in 1784. But after the French Revolution the Tories were increasingly seen as a party of reaction and eventually lost power in 1830.

(Whigs with their liberal views on community and social responsibility equate to American Democrats, Tories being conservative and believing in individual rights and justice, to Republicans.)

Given such violently opposed political views, editorial battles between the rival newspapers were epic, being inflammatory and scathing.

In that first edition of the West Briton, Heard expressed concerns about the actions of Napoleon Bonaparte. What follows are abstracts from articles in his newspaper.

In April 1814 the paper reported the entrance of the Allied Army into Paris. The dethronement of Bonaparte was received in every part of Cornwall with demonstrations of joy. In Penzance and Newlyn the populace erected bonfires in several streets and wealthy neighbours donated barrels of beer to aid the celebrations.

St. Michael's Mount

Marazion and St Michael’s Mount were illuminated with the castle magnificently lighted to striking effect. The bells in the castle tower, which had not been heard for many years, rang out on this joyous occasion.

The fishermen of Mousehole showed their delight by burning an effigy of Bonaparte.

The proprietors of Crinnis Mine near St Austell celebrated the victory by entertaining all the (mine) captains, miners and work people in their employ. The captains dined together and were given twelve dozen bottles of wine. The work people were treated to a whole roast ox, a thousand loaves of bread and ten hogsheads of beer. In the evening the entire company enjoyed a grand display of fireworks.

(Bonaparte was sent to Elba, escaped, and rallied his army to fight the Allies.)

After his defeat at Waterloo in June 1815, unable to escape to America because of the blockading Bellerophon, Bonaparte stepped aboard the ship that had dogged his steps for twenty years to finally surrender to the British ending two decades of war.

The Bellerophon

In July 1815 Bellerophon, known to English sailors as Billy Ruffian, entered Plymouth Sound to take on water and provisions before carrying the ex-Emperor to exile in St Helena. Bellerophon was accompanied by the Slaney and the Myrmidon, both carrying the baggage of Bonaparte and his suite.

As soon as the ship dropped anchor, every boat in Plymouth took to the water filled with people wanting to approach. But acting on orders from the Government, guard boats stationed around Bellerophon prevented the curious from getting close.

Yet despite the losses of ships and men caused by the war, and the celebrations following his defeat, such was the aura surrounding Bonaparte that when at 6pm he appeared on deck every officer, British as well as French, instantly bared their heads as a token of respect.

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Crosscurrents
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July 2014

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Jane Jackson loves history, Cornwall and romance. A professional writer for over thirty years with twenty-eight books published, she also teaches the craft of novel-writing and ten of her former students are now published novelists. Happily married to a Cornishman, with children and grandchildren, when not writing she enjoys reading for pleasure and research, long walks while listening to music and playing 'what if' with characters and plot ideas. She also likes to bake - hence the need for long walks.