The Impeachment of Warren Hasting 1788-1795

The Road of Politics has a lot of Potholes and certainly no true friends

 

Warren Hastings

Eliza de Feuillide

Henry Thomas Austen

As mentioned a couple posts ago Warren Hastings, who was the first Governor of India, is a fascinating Regency Era study since many believe him to be the natural father of Eliza de Feuillide, who married Henry Thomas Austen, the brother of Jane Austen.

That connection, provides many of those who love novels of the Regency, and Jane Austen, a connection. Real history, interacting with our literary giantess.

Jane Austen

As with the OJ Simpson trial, a few years ago, this trial between 1788 and 1795 was the big court case of the times.

What we see is that the door to a greater discussion of what was happening in India and what the East India Company was doing came about.

Prime Minister Lord North

Hastings became Governor General of India in 1773, after 23 years with “The Company,” The East India Company. Appointed by Prime Minister North whose government was also the party in charge when the British lost the American colonies.

Sir Phillip Francis, the sore Loser

A great deal of the foundation of the impeachment trial was based on the governing Calcutta Council that Hastings led as Governor General. He had one man who was in opposition to nearly all that he did. Sir Phillip Francis and he disagreed so much that they even fought a duel, which Francis was wounded in. Francis then returned to England and began to raise questions about Hastings conduct. He found support in the Whigs who were in opposition to Lord North’s government.

After this, the Second Mysore War came, when Mysore thought to take on the British while they were heavily involved in the American colonies. The war ended with the status quo from when it started. However, back in England much was made of the company’s mismanagement, and thus Hasting’s position.

William Pitt the Younger

Charles James Fox

The many wealthy nabobs who returned to England were quite unpopular, and Francis’ attacks did not make Hastings any better received. 

Then after the Fox government fell, Charles James Fox  attacked Hastings as well. Pitt made no mention of Hastings in introducing a new India Act in 1784 and this was seen as the government not supporting the Governor General.

George III

Edmund Burke

Hastings returned to England in June of 1785. On the return journey, he wrote 'The State of Bengal,' the defense of his conduct. He expected to be attacked by Parliament and the press when he returned, but it to be short lived. King George III gave him an audience and he received a unanimous vote of thanks by the East India Company when he returned. He even thought he might get an Irish peerage. Edmund Burke who is regarded as the father of Anglo-Conservatism, supporter of American Independence and opposed to allowing the French such rights, though, had other plans for Hastings.

In reviewing the material of what the politicians were up to, it seems that Hastings was a nice little scapegoat for the opposition party to embarrass Prime Minister Pitt’s government. Francis (and one can only surmise that he hated that he lost to Hastings in India, and then was wounded by him as well in their duel) made eleven specific charges against Hastings.

Hastings in later years

William Pitt finally said, after defending Hastings against all charges, that perhaps one action, the punishment of the Rajah of Benares, was excessive. This led to Hastings being arrested on May 21, 1787 and taken to the House of Lords to hear the charges against him. Not often had the house of Lords had an Impeachment trial. There has been only one other since this case.

Hastings trial began on February 13th 1788. It took place in Westminster Hall Members of the House of Commons were seated to Hastings right, the Lords to his left and a large audience of spectators, including royals in boxes and public galleries.

Edmund Burke began the proceedings with a long public address. He took four days and treated it all seriously. However most thought the trial resembled a social event.

Westminster Hall in the Palace of Westminster, London, November 1808

The Coronation Banquet of King George IV in Westminster Hall, 1821 (A very Regency Era representation of the site that was used to try Warren Hastings)

Richard Brinsley Sheridan

Hastings was granted bail, despite Burke arguing that he would flee the country with the wealth he had allegedly stolen from India. Other leading Whigs made speeches over the coming weeks against Hastings. Proving that the trial was not about wrongdoing so much as political maneuvering. Charles James Fox spoke against the man as well as Richard Brinsley Sheridan was a playwright and a poet. Sheridan served as Treasurer of the Navy 1806-1807 and also was the owner of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. He is known for his plays such as The Rivals, The School for Scandal and A Trip to Scarborough.

Interior of Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. Circa 1808. Plate 32 of Microcosm of London (1808) The play is Coriolanuis.

In total nineteen spoke against Hastings as part of the Impeachment Committee. With Sheridan and so many gathered to witness, it does sound like a theatrical production. While at first, the Whigs had gotten public sympathy on their side over the issue, Sir Phillip Francis having worked so hard to vilify Hastings. But the trial dragged on for months, then years.

When the French Revolution began in 1789, Sheridan, obviously attuned to his audience as a member of the theater community said that he was "heartily tired of the Hastings trial" despite being one of its instigators. Doubt now had permeated into society about Hasting’s guilt. James Gilray the cartoonist depicted Hastings as the “Saviour of India” and he was being assaulted by Burke and Fox.

“Saviour of India”

Lord Cornwallis

Then on April 9th, 1794 Lord Cornwallis who was the second Governor General of India gave testimony in defense of Hastings. He reported that the natives of India respected Hastings. When asked if he had "found any just cause to impeach the character of Mr Hastings?" he replied "never".

William Larkins the former Accountant General of Bengal then testified that there were no irregularities with Hasting’s administration. The Whigs had hoped that they would have had a lot of testimony showing corruption but many came forward as character witnesses for Hastings.

For the trial of Warren Ha(stings)' (includes Edmund Burke; Charles James Fox; Sir Philip Francis; Warren Hastings), by James Sayers (died 1823)

Lord Chancellor Lord Loughborough

23 April 1795 the Lord Chancellor Lord Loughborough presided over the delivery of the verdict. A third of the lords who had attended the opening of the trial seven years before were now dead. Only 29 had sat through enough evidence to pronounce judgement. Most of the charges, there were 16, Hastings was found not guilty unanimously. On three questions only did five or six peers say he was guilty, but 6 of 29 meant that 23 at least found him not guilty of those charges. It was an overwhelming verdict and had been expected for some time.

Edmund Burke died 2 years later and believed in Hasting’s guilt to his dying day. He believed that the Lords acquitting Hastings would lead “to the perpetual infamy of the House of Lords.”

If Hastings had been super wealthy, the impeachment broke him and left him with debts of £70,000. The government and the East India Company did come to his aid in the end and helped to pay for it. The Lawyer made out like a true Nabob of India, though. Richard Shaw(e) had his mansion Casino House in Herne Hill built from his fees. He had John Nash and Humphrey Repton as the architect and Landscaper.

In 1812 Hastings was asked by Parliament to speak as an expert on India. After which, all the members rose in acknowledgement. Something that they only did for members of the Royal family.

As more came out, the role of Pitt abandoning the support of Hastings, and allowing the impeachment to go forth was seen as a Political power play. Pitt feared that he was to be tarred by the same brush wielded by those trying to ruin Hastings. And in the end, the total exoneration of Hastings proves he had never been guilty but helped to begin the transition of rule in India by the East India Company, to the British Government.

* * *

Mr. Wilkin writes Regency Historicals and Romances, Ruritanian (A great sub-genre that is fun to explore) and Edwardian Romances, Science Fiction and Fantasy works. He is the author of the very successful Pride & Prejudice continuation; Colonel Fitzwilliam’s Correspondence. He has several other novels set in Regency England including The End of the World and The Shattered Mirror. His most recent work is the humorous spoof; Jane Austen and Ghosts.

The links for all locations selling Mr. Wilkin's work can be found at the webpage and will point you to your favorite internet bookstore: David’s Books, and at various Internet and realworld bookstores including the iBookstore, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords.

He is published by Regency Assembly Press

And he maintains his own blog called The Things That Catch My Eye

You also may follow Mr. Wilkin on Twitter at @DWWilkin

Mr. Wilkin maintains a Pinterest page with pictures and links to all the Regency Research he uncovers at Pinterest Regency-Era

The Lady Elizabeth, Prisoner at Woodstock

The Lady Elizabeth, later Queen of England, was 'much suspected' by her sister Mary

It is unlikely that Elizabeth was behind all or indeed any of the treasonous plots against her sister Queen Mary, though we have little proof either way. But Queen Mary clearly disliked her Protestant sister, whose beautiful mother had supplanted her own in Henry VIII's affections, for she was not slow to have her arrested and taken to the Tower following Wyatt's uprising of early 1554. This uprising had taken place in response to the news that Mary planned to marry Prince Philip of Spain, a move which many feared which bring England under Spanish rule.

Elizabeth escaped direct implication in this uprising, despite brutal efforts to force Wyatt to name her under torture as a co-conspirator. Wyatt was later beheaded, but the young Elizabeth remained popular with the people, making it difficult for Mary to take further action against her. Nonetheless, although Elizabeth was eventually released from the gloomy Tower of London, she was kept under house arrest until the spring of 1555.

A medieval 'pard' or leopard from the Aberdeen Bestiary

The place chosen for her imprisonment was Woodstock Palace in Oxfordshire, a hunting lodge originally built by Henry I in the Middle Ages. A royal residence for many centuries and a medieval parkland for such 'exotic' beasts as lions, leopards and peacocks, it had seen the birth of Edward, the Black Prince, in 1330.

By Mary's reign, Woodstock had fallen into serious disrepair and was considered uninhabitable. However, the gatehouse to the palace was still in reasonable repair. So it was there, in small cramped lodgings better suited to a servant, that Elizabeth was kept a prisoner for the better part of a year.

On her slow journey to Woodstock, it was reported that crowds cheered as she passed and commoners knelt in the streets at the sight of Henry VIII's youngest daughter. No wonder Mary Tudor thought her sister too dangerous to be left to her own devices!

On reaching Woodstock and seeing how isolated it was, Elizabeth must have been in great fear for her life. Locked away in rural Oxfordshire, far from London and the eyes of the court, she knew anything could happen. Not only was she an easy target for assassination there, but the queen's sister was also in danger of being forgotten as heir to the throne.

Denied the company of her ladies, and even the comfort of her own books, Elizabeth spent much of her time at Woodstock involved in disputes with Sir Henry Bedingfield, her appointed jailor. These arguments were often over matters such as her freedom to walk the grounds or receive visitors, for she was still very much under suspicion. Her linen and even her meals were checked for concealed items such as Protestant literature or letters from traitors, and she was watched daily to ensure she followed the Catholic faith.

Occasionally, however, she found herself embroiled in more dangerous accusations. At one stage, it came to the attention of the Privy Council that the Lady Elizabeth was 'keeping court' at Woodstock, thanks to a local inn where her loyal retainers and followers would gather to show their support for the imprisoned princess. Bedingfield received a letter insisting that he curtail these forbidden activities, but of course Elizabeth denied all knowledge of them and their stormy arguments continued.

Philip II of Spain with his wife, Mary I of England

The final blow came when Queen Mary married Prince Philip of Spain in July 1554. Later that year, it was whispered that the queen was expecting a child. Elizabeth must have felt that her chance to become Queen of England was slipping away, for any child born to their union would supplant her as heir to the throne.

Surprisingly, perhaps in response to pressure from her husband Philip, the queen ordered Elizabeth's return to court in the spring of 1555. It must have felt like a reprieve for Elizabeth to leave the ruins of Woodstock and return to the pomp and glory of Hampton Court. Yet she probably also suspected that Mary wanted her at court to witness the imminent birth of the new heir - a public humiliation Elizabeth would be unlikely to forget. In the terrible struggle of Tudor sister against sister, Mary certainly seemed to have the upper hand at that point.

However, Mary's triumph did not last. Her pregnancy faded away and was finally understood to be a phantom. The court discreetly dispersed. Philip returned to Spain, and Elizabeth was allowed to retire to the countryside until the news came of her sister's death in November 1558.

Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough

The ruined Woodstock Palace was never rebuilt. It was eventually pulled down in the early 1700s as an eyesore by Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough, and the vastly more glamorous Blenheim Palace built nearby instead. Woodstock Palace remained alive in legend though, as the place where one of England's greatest queens may once have signed herself 'Elizabeth, prisoner' in a rhyme scratched on a window: 'Much suspected of me, Nothing proved can be.'

First in a Tudor paranormal romance series

Victoria Lamb's novel, Witchstruck, is a paranormal romance for Young Adult readers and is set at Woodstock Palace during Elizabeth's imprisonment there:

'Twilight meets The Other Boleyn Girl in this gripping and passionate tale of Meg, a spirited young witch learning her craft amidst the danger and intrigue of sixteenth-century England'

Currently half-price as a paperback advance order from Amazon UK, and also available as an ebook, Witchstruck will be published in the UK in early July 2012.

An Inventory of furniture and effects, 1794

By Mike Rendell

When the partnership between my 4xGreat Grandfather Richard Hall and his eldest son William came to an end in 1794 the family drew up an inventory of every stick of furniture at their property at One London Bridge. Presumably this was on the basis that William was entitled to be recompensed for his share of the furniture and effects.

I have decided to set out the contents list in full because it occurs to me that this may help aspiring writers, anxious for Eighteenth Century accuracy, to envisage what each room was like, as you move through the four bedroomed house. All you have to do now is populate the rooms with the characters of your choice!
My apologies to those who see inventories as being 'as dry as dust'! The list excludes the shop and counting house furniture (and all the stock-in-trade).

By way of background: Richard had built the shop with living accommodation above it, in 1767 at a base cost of £850. With surveyors fees and all other expenses it had cost nearly £1250 - a not inconsiderable sum (equivalent to perhaps £100,000 in today’s buying power). The map shows the site highlighted in red. It would have been the first shop encountered by pedestrians as they entered the City of London from the South – a prime position. Next door were warehouses, and opposite the shop is St Magnus the Martyr Church (one of Wren’s masterpieces).

This view taken from the Southwark side of the Thames, shows One London Bridge just to the left of the church (and the Monument), behind the waterwheel which thudded constantly pumping water to wealthy households in the area.

Inventory of the Household Furniture Linen China & Books taken at Mr Wm. Hall, hosier
No.1 London Bridge May 15, 1794

No. 1 Right hand and spair back
A half-tester bedstead and crimson Harrateen Furniture
A goose-feather bed, bolster and pillow. 2 blankets and a quilt
A truckle bedstead – a feather bed. Bolster, three blankets and a quilt
A walnut chest of drawers. 6 stained chairs – canvas seats
A corner night chair. A table clock – black Ebony Case by Smolling (?). 3 slips of carpets
A Harrateen window curtain
No 2 Right hand front
A bath stove, serpentine fender. Shovel, tongs and fender
A 4-part bedstead, Linen furniture. A feather bed, bolster & pillow
3 blankets. A linen quilt. A pair glass in a walnut tree Gilt frame.
A walnut tree kneehole dressing table. A ditto low chest of drawers.
6 black dyed chairs – matted seat. A square Scotch carpet 2 slips of Ditto.
A wainscoat. Pillow, Chair,Table. 5 paintings on Glass.
No 3 left hand
A Stump bedstead. A feather bed bolster & pillow.
3 blankets ,a wainscoat chest of drawers, a ditto round table.
A square dressing glass. A Scotch carpet
A brass front stove, tin fender.
No 4 Back room

A high wire fender. A parrot cage. 3 Cloaths horses. A large round table
A (?) Lanthorn (lantern). Sundry boxes. A folding board and sundries
A hatch and stairs
No. 5 Spair back room
A 4 part bedstead with Green Damask furniture – a goose feather bed bolster, 2 pillows, a flock mattress
A blanket, a green damask window curtain. A Mahogany one drawer table.
An oval swing Dressing Glass.
4 Mahogany Chairs – horse hair seats. A ditto basin stand, a wainscoat bureau.
A Scotch carpet to go around the bed. Sundry fossils and shells.
No. 6 – Spair right hand front room
A bath stove. Shovel tongs and poker. A 4 part bedstead, mahogany feet.
Pillows. Printed cotton furniture. A feather bed, bolster, 2 pillows.
A straw pallice, 3 blankets, a white cotton counterpane
2 sets of cotton festoon window curtains. A compress front mahogany Chest of drawers.
A swing glass in a Mahogany frame. A Mahogany double chest of drawers.
6 Mahogany chairs, horsehair seats. A Scotch carpet and 2 bedsides (i.e. slips)
A Mahogany basin stand Jug and Basin. A small ditto Cloaths Horse
Side bed. A small feather bed.. 2 pillows, 2 flannel blankets a Marseilles quilt, an India picture.
2 China jars & Covers. 2 ….(?) & 2 pieces blown glass.
No. 7 – Spair left hand
An iron grate on hearth stones. A harrateen window curtain & rod
A Mahogany cloaths press with folding doors & drawer under. A Mahogany bureau. A small ditto.
An easy chair. Cushion. Linen case. A Scotch carpet 2 setts of window curtains. A purple ditto. Linen
4 Diaper Table cloths,2 small ditto. 4 Damask Breakfast Ditto
4 Diaper Table Cloths. 1 pair Lancashire Sheets
4 pairs Russia Ditto, 3 pair Ditto. 2 pair Lancashire Ditto, 2 odd sheets
8 pr Pillowcases, 6 Diaper Hand Towels. 9 Huckerback towels – 2 Jack Ditto
2 old Ditto. 20 hand towels
A breakfast cloth – 2 Pudding Ditto. A cotton counterpane
A sett of blue check bed Curtains
Books
One vol. Folio ½ bound. 1 Ditto unbound. 5 Ditto 4to (Quarto). Plates to ditto. Miscellaneous Tracks (tracts) relating to Antiquity. Baileys Dictionary. Buchans Domestic Medicine. Thompsons Travels. Non-conformists Memorial, 2 volumes, Winchesters Tracks. Philadelphian Magazine. A Dictionary. Harveys Meditations. Herberts Poems. James Beauties (?). 36 bound books. Sundry pamphlets – 4 bound. Pashams Bible. Hymns & Psalms. A family bible. Crudens Concordances. Clark on the Testament.4 maps of Europe Asia Africa & America. An orrery. 3 Portraits framed & Glazed.
No.8 Spair back room
A fretwork Mahogany Tea Table. A Japan Ditto. A variable (?) one-draw Table.
A Draft Board. A slip of floor cloth. Sundry stones shells & fossils.
A painting of fruit, sundry shells in a drawer.
No. 9 Dining Room
A steel stove. Fender shovel Tongs & Poker. 3 sett of blue Damask festoon window curtains.
2 oval pier glasses in carved gilt frames. 2 square mahogany Dining Tables with 2 flaps. A square pillar & claw Table.
A round Ditto. A Mahogany Dumb Waiter. 6 Ditto Chairs Sattin hair seats brass nailed. 2 Elbow Ditto. A Wilton carpet.
A marble slab on a Mahogany stand – a Mahogany book Case, Glass Doors.
A Harpsichord in a walnut tree case by Kirkhoffe …(?), a violin, a flute, a high Mahogany Chair, a Ditto stool, a Japan’d Urn, a Mahogany stand, 2 waiters. Cut(lery) and knife tray.
Sundry Moths & insects framed & Glazed. Sundry Stones Shells & Fossils. A Canary Bird & Cage.
A Mahogany Knife case. A set of cruets with Silver Tops - 2 small miniature portraits.
No. 10 Kitchen
1 Trivet, 2 Crane Hooks. Footman(i.e. kettle stand) 2 Spits…(?) Dripping Pan Stand. 2 Gridirons. A copper Boiler. A Tea Kettle. 2 Porrage pots & covers. 3 Saucepans. A chocolate pot.
A pair of Princes metal candlesticks. 1 pr shorter Ditto.3 high brass Ditto. A brass ladle. A tin fish kettle plate & cover. 5 Saucepans & covers. 6 candlesticks. 10 patties. Loose tea ware (?). Bread basket.

Japan Sugar Ditto. 3 Tin Cannisters. 14 Oval & round dishes.12 large plates. 6 small Ditto. Sundry Queens Ware. 4 water (?) plates. A meat steamer(?) lined with Tin.
A Deal table with 2 flaps.6 wood chairs. A pair of bellows. Salt box. Spice Box.2 sieves. A Japan Patent Jack. A Deal cupboard under Dresser. A Hatch on stairs.
No. 11 Store Room
An eight day clock in a walnut tree case by Wright. A Square Mahogany 2-flap Dining Table.
A 2-flap Deal Table. A small cloaths horse. A plate warmer. 2 Frying pans. A footman (i.e. kettle stand). A tin Fish Kettle. A copper warming pan. A brass Ditto. A small Lanthorn (lantern).
A Japan Tea Tray. 3 Flat irons & 2 stands. A pewter(?) water dish. 4 round dishes. 10 plates. A tureen. A copper stew pan. A bell metal Saucepan.
1 brass 1 copper Urn. Part of a set of China containing 35 pieces. A tea-pot Cover.
6 cups & saucers. 6 blue and white cups & saucers. Basin. 6 candles.
Basins & Saucers. 27 china plates. 3 Ditto bowls. A dragon basin. 2 mugs.

A tureen cover. 14 soup plates. 4 Dishes. 9 Patties. 4 basons.2 jugs. 4
Round dishes. 15 pieces of Queens Ware.4 Red dishes & sundry Jars. 2 Glass Decanters.
20 wine & jelly Glasses. A Tumbler. A Mahogany knife tray. 2 Waiters. 1 Japan Ditto. Candle box, lamp, 2 pairs of platedCandlesticks. A dish cross (?). 2 pairs of snuffers.
A plated stand. A plated Cruet (?) with 5 glasses.
12 brown-handled knives & forks.12 small Ditto. 10 forks.
Shop No. 12
A feather bed, bolster & pillows. 2 blankets & a rug.
No. 13 Cellar
A beer stand. 2 wash tubs. 2 pails. Sundry Garden Pots

All the Effects in the Foregoing Inventory is valued at One Hundred & Twenty Five pounds fifteen shillings & 6d by

John Fletcher

for Samuel Burton, Houndsditch.

The list describes the furniture and effects – other than trade and shop fittings – and reveals thirteen separate rooms. No mention is made of a privy – presumably because it was outside. Even the shop had a feather bed – no doubt because an apprentice slept there overnight. Indeed it is the sheer number of beds which catches the eye. Assuming that a bolster would not have been appropriate to a single bed, it looks as though there were seven double beds, one single, plus a “straw pallice” i.e. palliasse. In theory sixteen people could be in occupation. From the description of the Hall household it is assumed that there were only a couple of domestic servants “living in” – presumably in “No. 3 – Left hand” with its “Stump bedstead…a wainscoat chest of drawers, round table, square dressing glass” (i.e. mirror) and stove with “tin fender”.
The other rooms contain rather more furniture and benefit from “window curtains” (as distinct from “bed curtains”). In the main bedroom there is a half tester bed (i.e. with a canopy) with what is described as “Harrateen furniture” (Harrateen being a type of woollen fabric, used here for the drapes, canopy and curtains). The main bed had a goose feather mattress and pillows – other mattresses appear to have been mostly “feather”(of unspecified origin) or “flock” or straw. “Scotch carpet” appears to have been laid in strips – presumably around the sides and bottom of the bed – in most rooms. Only the Dining Room had a Wilton carpet.
As the Hall family would only have justified half the beds, the rest were either an indication that rooms were let out (a common way of generating an income, then as now) or shows rather more than one apprentice or shop assistant living in. There is no mention of any spinning or knitting machines, suggesting that by 1794 the Hall business had moved entirely away from manufacturing silk stockings, and was now wholly involved in the sale of general haberdashery.
There appears to have been a kitchen (number 10), a dining room (9), and a back room where tea was taken, with its “fretwork mahogany tea table, a Japan Ditto…a draft board, sundry stones shells and Fossils and a painting of fruit”. Books were described separately and the list suggests mostly religious tracts, pamphlets and Bibles together with a dictionary and “4 Maps, of Europe, Asia Africa and America”. Buchan’s “Domestic Medicine” is singled out and was presumably returned to Richard because it remains with his papers to this day. The family interest in astronomy was reflected in the “orrery” - a clockwork mechanism used to show the movement of the planets around the sun, and named after the Earl of Orrery. Some years earlier the Earl had commissioned the instrument maker J Rowley to make just such an instrument copying the invention of George Graham.
The list of linen is interesting with its reference to “Diaper Table Cloths” – diaper meaning “diamond patterned”, Huckerback towels – which the Oxford Dictionary defines as being “made of stout linen or cotton fabric” and “Jack Towels” meaning roller towels. The family appear to have been musical, with a “harpsichord in a Walnut Tree case” along with a violin and a flute. Ornaments seem to have been dominated by shells and fossils, along with miniature portraits and “sundry Moths and Insects framed and glazed”.
Even the canary in its cage was listed in the inventory (in the Dining Room, next to the Mahogany Knife Case). The parrot cage in the Back Room was presumably without an inmate (since none was mentioned) but indicates the popularity of keeping caged birds as pets.
A figure of just over ten pounds per room suggests that this was a family valuation. Richard bought out his eldest son William, and passed William’s share of the business to his younger son Francis Hall. Francis remained at One London Bridge until his death in 1826, and the premises were pulled down shortly afterwards to allow for road widening improvements linked to the new London Bridge. A reminder that nothing stays the same in a city like London!
Many more details about One London Bridge can be found in The Journal of a Georgian Gentleman but I find it fascinating to think that I actually know in which room in the house some of the items I now own were originally kept.

Mike's book about the life of his ancestor can be found here He also does a regular blog on life in the Georgian era.

Justice Prevails

by Katherine Pym

Over the centuries, public executions were entertainment.  Crowds gathered en masse to watch these events. They brought their children and baskets of food.  They picnicked and laughed. 

England’s justice would not allow a guilty person to escape his sentence. One such fellow condemned to be hanged found a way to escape when brought to the gallows.

As the magistrates hauled the poor fellow to his hanging, legs shackled, the condemned man jerked out of the way. The crowd impeded the gaolers from catching him. He ran down the hill and jumped into the river, the weight of the shackles pulling him down. He drowned. 

Not content to have the prisoner die before being properly executed, he was hauled back up to the gallows, and there hanged with the other prisoners. (They did this during the French Revolution, too. Not hanging - guillotined.)

Enter Oliver Cromwell who was very dead when executed for treason.    

King Charles I

When King Charles II returned from exile, he brought back a few things. One – a French tradition – put women on stage. His style of clothing tended toward the French rather than the prevailing Dutch.  Another, he sought revenge for the regicide of his father. 

Charles II did not want to execute every regicide. Men around him did. After a while, Charles II waved his hand in dismissal when new names were recommended.  He did, however, accept revenge on the head of Oliver Cromwell.  

Excerpt from Of Carrion Feathers by KPym: “The Protector died of an illness on a stormy night (not kidding) in September of 1658.  Wind blew and rain pelted the earth.  With his son incapable to lead the people, Cromwell’s death left an appalling void.  Those left in the Commonwealth tucked their heads into their bolsters, and shivered under the calamity of a terrible loss.  They begged the Lord God to deliver them from the shocking death of their loved one.  

Cromwell's Death Mask

"Finally, with nothing else for it, God not returning their Saint to a now beleaguered people, the country gathered in great pomp and ceremony to give the Protector a proper fare-thee-well.  His doctors had embalmed him and filled his coffin with spices.  After a long ceremony of viewing his effigy with infinite prayers and speeches, Cromwell was enshrined in Westminster Abbey amongst dead kings and queens of the realm.  

  

"When the new king returned, Charles II could not forgive the men who tried to kill him and succeeded in killing his father.  The king ordered Cromwell to be disinterred from his shrine.  They yanked him from the grave to endure a rigorous execution.  

"Along with other regicides, Cromwell was hanged at Tyburn.  After many strokes of the axe through fabric of the shroud, he was beheaded, his body cast in a hole beneath Tyburn gallows.  They stuck his head on a pike for the whole world to see at Westminster Hall.”  It remained there for 20-30 years before it was spirited away on another dark and dreary night...  

For more of London 1662 and espionage during the reign of King Charles II, see my book Of Carrion Feathers which was released June 1^st, 2012 from http://www.amazon.com/Katherine-Pym/e/B004GILIAS. And the Nook.  

Happy Birthdays

by Phillip Brown


Or Birthday Greetings as our forebears would say until the song Happy Birthday came in after the turn of the century. The painting is by William Powell Frith and is called Happy Returns of the Day, now in Harrogate. By 1856 when this was painted, birthdays had become a part of the middle and upper class scene, though as can be seen here, children and mothers took a greater part than the males of the household. The table decoration attached to the little girl's chair, and the high tea, itself were here more important than the usually small gifts. These traditions seem to have been taken over from the much more important Christmas traditions.





This is an interesting painting. The child 'Alice' in the painting is Frith's daughter, later Lady Hastings, the father is a portrait of the artist, and the grandmother is a portrait of Mrs Frith Senior, who kept the Dragon Hotel in Harrogate, from 1826 to 1838. The Grandfather who doesn't seem much interested was actually modelled from an old man Frith found in a workhouse.

Frith was a friend of Charles Dickens and one of the most successful painters of his age, painting the enormous The Wedding of the Prince of Wales in 1863, for £3000 for Queen Victoria. Frith had to do 139 portraits to make it and the original is still in Buckingham Palace. His “modern life” paintings which showed panoramas such as Ramsgate Sands or the Railway Station were innovative in that they showed a cross-section of social life in Victorian Britain and included lots of details like little stories. Derby Day was sold by Frith for £1500 (an enormous sum then) and another £1500 to the art dealer Gambert for the copyright (to produce engravings). It toured Britain and Australia and at the Academy had to be protected by railways from the press of the crowd.


But what interests us here is his later morality pictures, The Road to Ruin series.


The five scenes in The Road to Ruin dramatise the evils of gambling by tracing the descent into bankruptcy and suicide of a single character. In them, Frith brings the visual arts closer to the novel than any artist since Hogarth.



The series begins at dawn in rooms at Cambridge, where a fresh-faced and wealthy young man has fallen in with "bloods" - a fast, hunting, gambling, and drinking set to whom he has clearly lost money in an all-night card game.


Time passes, and we next see him in the royal enclosure at Ascot surrounded by touts and creditors. In this scene, we first glimpse an important secondary character in the series, his young wife, who notices what is happening, but does not yet understand how reckless he has been. We viewers can guess what may lie ahead because the railings that keep hoi polloi in the crowd from the toffs in the enclosure look to us like prison bars.


Then the scene shifts to the panelled drawing room of our protagonist's richly appointed ancestral home. To his wife's and servants' astonishment, bailiffs have arrived to arrest our upper-class rake for debt.

Still wearing a silk dressing gown over his suit and with a society newspaper at his feet, he arrogantly dismisses these common little men. But the look of pity the scruffy assistant bailiff casts at the gambler's wife and two small children suggests that the case is grave: everything has been lost. The house and its contents must be sold. Notice the toy race horses on the floor: already the father has begun to corrupt his son with a love for the turf.

Then we see the ruined family again, now living in furnished rooms in a French boarding house (no English gentleman would never have chosen to display a crucifix and statues of the virgin and saints).

The anti-hero, who has never worked a day in his life, is trying to write a play, while his loyal wife supports the family by painting watercolours. A newborn baby lies in a cradle in the corner.

But the exasperated landlady has called to say that unless they pay their bill they will be evicted. Now, too, we begin to see the effect of reckless gambling on the innocent children.

The little boy, who gently comforted his mother in the scene with the bailiffs, tenderly lays his hand on his despairing father. Ominously, the daughter tries to warm herself by the dwindling fire. She is ill, and needs medical help.

In the last scene, it is again dawn, and our hero finds himself penniless in a pitiful garret. The cradle is empty and the family have gone. Scraps of paper on the floor tell us that the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane has rejected his play, while the wretched furnishings indicate the depth of his impoverishment. Desperate, he locks the door; a gun lies on the table. We know what will happen next.


Ironically even as he had the birthday party, Frith was probably thinking of Mary Alford, a young ward (who was also a nurse maid to the family) who became the artist's secret mistress. He had seven children illegitimately with Mary, while maintaining his official family, including 12 children, a mile up the road in Bayswater. Mary's first child was born on the day Many Happy Returns of the Day was exhibited at the Royal Academy. He did marry her after his first wife died.

The origins of "Happy Birthday To You" date back to the mid-nineteenth century, when two sisters, Patty and Mildred J. Hill, introduced the song "Good Morning to All" to Patty's kindergarten class in Kentucky. In 1893, they published the tune in their songbook Song Stories for the Kindergarten. However, many believe that the Hill sisters most likely copied the tune and lyrical idea from other popular and substantially similar nineteenth-century songs that predated theirs, including Horace Waters' "Happy Greetings to All", "Good Night to You All" also from 1858, "A Happy New Year to All" from 1875, and "A Happy Greeting to All", published 1885.

The Hill Sisters' students enjoyed their teachers' version of "Good Morning To All" so much that they began spontaneously singing it at birthday parties, changing the lyrics to "Happy Birthday".

It's not well known that the song, surely one of the most popular in the world is still in copyright. In 2008, Warner collected about $5000 per day ($2 million per year) in royalties for the song. This includes use in film, television, radio, anywhere open to the public. For this reason, most restaurants or other public party venues will not allow their employees to perform the song in public, instead opting for other original songs or cheers in honour of the person.

The original cakes at birthdays were just a plain fruitcake, but gradually the type of cake changed (in the mid 19th century, baking soda and powder revolutionised cake baking) and it became decorated until today's icing, candles and small decorations became normal. Candles are interesting as the tradition started with the Greeks who lit candles on cakes to make them look like the Moon as an offering to Artemis.

By the 1860's, advances in printing had made the birthday card cheaper and the penny post popularised its use. Artists such as Kate Greenaway and Walter Crane designed greeting cards.

Elaborate children's birthdays started in Germany as “kinderfeste”, with games and entertainment. I have no evidence for this but as with Christmas traditions imported from Germany, it is interesting to speculate that Prince Albert and his circle may have introduced them.

What was old in the olden days?

by Sam Thomas

If people know one thing about the early modern period, whether it is Tudor England or Puritan New England, it is that people died young. At some point they saw a statistic saying that the average lifespan was forty years and they leave it at that. While technically true, this view of early modern life misses quite a bit about the past, not least because talk of an “average” hides the fact that high infant mortality rates skew things considerably. If a pair of twins is born in 1600, and one dies at birth while the other lives eighty years, their average life-span is forty years – but neither twin came remotely close to that number!

The strange thing is that the people of early modern England knew perfectly well that people – lots of people – grew old. In the late seventeenth century a government commissioner named Gregory King (1648-1712) wrote a report called Natural and Political Observations and Conclusions upon the State and Condition of England, in which he estimated the population of England, and broke down these numbers based on age as well as social and marital status. According to King, 10% of the population was over sixty.

(Remarkably, modern demographers found that King was off by only a single percentage point: at the end of the 17th century, 9% of the population was over the age of sixty.)

The Seven Ages of Man

Put another way, if a girl made it past her fifth birthday – by which time childhood diseases had done their worst – it was not unreasonable to expect that she would live to a relatively old age, even by modern standards.

The question that this raises, however, is what being old meant in the past. In the modern world we mark age in ways that are peculiar to our time and place: we get a driver’s license when we turn sixteen, vote at seventeen, drink at twenty-one, you receive full retirement benefits at sixty-seven, etc. But obviously none of these markers would have made sense to people living any time before the 20^th century. So what mattered to them?

As King’s estimate indicates, turning sixty was a big deal – in the minds of many people, that was when you became old. A Presbyterian minister named Oliver Heywood (1630-1704) made a habit of writing annual reflections on his birthday. When he turned fifty-nine, he noted,

I bless the Lord, I am as fit for studying and preaching this day as ever I was in all my life.

The next year – despite continuing good-health! – he adopted a rather more dramatic tone:

Oh my dear Lord, I am now arrived at the 60th year of my age, and not one amongst a thousand live to this age, and I have passed many changes and revolutions in the course of my pilgrimage.... how soon are these 60 years of my life past, like a tale that’s told, a dream when one awakes, its but t’ other day that I was an infant, a child, a school boy, and now I am grown of the older sort, and anon I shall not be here my place will know me no more.

(“Why sixty?” you ask. In addition to be a comfortingly round number, it had religious significance, for it was when the great evangelist Paul died. As Heywood wrote of, “having passed to the sixtieth year of my Life, (the date of the life of Paul the aged) within a few days; and my Lord only knows how soon my sun may set.”)

Intriguingly enough, early modern men and women considered sixty-three to be another year-of note. When Thomas Jolly noted the death of a fellow minister, he added the note, “he dyed in the close of his great climactericall year (63), which is accounted most dangerous.”

This is all well and good, and thank God for demographers who crunch the numbers so we don’t have to, but the other half of this question remains unanswered. How did growing old feel in the world before modern medicine, and the social safety net? (Stay tuned!)

Sam Thomas is the author of The Midwife's Tale: A Mystery (Minotaur, 2013). You can find him on Facebook, Twitter, or his very own website! Oh, he also blogs at Bloody Good Read.

The Victorian Wedding versus My Own Wedding

By Karen V. Wasylowski

Today is my wedding anniversary.  Richie and I have been married nineteen years, not very long considering our ages, but an astounding number to me.  It is absolutely frightening that so many years have sped by us - like the blink of an eye really.

We had a huge event, even though we were older than the average couple planning their first wedding ever.  I remember going to the Bridal Shop with my friend and the ten year old receptionist there asking me, "Mother of the Bride?"  I nearly bopped her on the head.

It was the first marriage for both of us and although I was prepared for a small ceremony, with me wearing an appropriate and tasteful suit and nifty Princess Beatrice like hat, my husband-to-be had his own ideas.

"I'm wearing a tuxedo."

"You can't wear a tuxedo.  I'm wearing an appropriate suit."

"What in the world is an 'appropriate' suit?"

"It is a suit appropriate for my advanced age and position in society."

"Well, you can wear an appropriate suit if you like but I'm wearing a tuxedo.  I'm only getting married once in my life and it's going to be in a tux."

After that it was all downhill.  White wedding gown and veil for me, tuxedo for him, four bridesmaids, four groomsmen, two hundred close friends and family, an orchestra, dancing til midnight...  It was one of the best parties I'd ever been to, before or since.

It was the happiest, most blessed, day of my life.

So today, I want to examine Victorian Weddings.  Within a 19th Century American etiquette book: "Our Deportment: or the Manners Conduct and Dress of the Most Refined Society" by John H. Young, A.M., F.B. Dickerson Publisher, 1882, is a section entitled "A Victorian Wedding".  Let's see how Richie and my wedding - a low key, slightly more modern wedding - compares.

"After the wedding invitations are issued, the fiancee does not appear in public."  

 On retrospect, I do suppose the entire "Chippendales" episode involving me, my bridesmaids and a pseudo cowboy called "Joltin' Jake" was a huge mistake.  Just kidding.  The girls and I were pretty tame.  We preferred pigging out on ice cream, frozen snickers bars, and old Robert Redford movies.

Queen Victoria


"The most approved Bridal costume for young ladies is of white silk, high corsage, a long wide veil of white tulle reaching to the feet, a wreath of maiden-blush roses with orange blossoms.  The orange blossoms are only suitable for the ceremony."

No problem there.  My gown was white and my veil was gorgeous.  I lost my shoes sometime during the reception, however, and found out later that my mother had taken them.  She had Alzheimer's and forgot where she put them while I was dancing.  I have nightmares of them being flushed down the toilet or being served to diners in the restaurant next door.  Both ideas are completely possible when your parent has dementia. Richie and I lived through crazier things than this until she passed three years later.

Victoria and Albert

"The bridegroom and ushers wear full morning dress, dark blue or black frock coats, or cut aways, light neckties and light trousers.  The bridegroom wears white gloves.  The ushers wear gloves of  some delicate color."

Not even remotely possible.  Although they all did wear their tuxes, a cattle prod would have been needed to get these fellows into delicate colored gloves.  In fact, they loaded a Confessional with bottles of champagne and kept slipping into the side booths, 'absolving' each other of their sins.  Within a half hour before the ceremony they were thoroughly sin free and foxed senseless.

"Ceremonials for entry into the church in the highest social circles in New York are as follows:  the bridesmaids, each leaning upon the arm of a groomsman, first pass up the aisle to the altar, the ladies going to the left, the gentlemen to the right. The groom follows with the bride's mother, or someone to represent her, leaning on his arm, whom he sets at a front pew on the left.  The bride follows, clinging on the arm of her father (or a near relative) who leads her to her groom."

Not very different from today, except for the groom bringing the bride's mother in - that seems odd.  Most grooms now are already wobbling at the front of the altar, waiting nervously, restrained by their best man, the words "Help Me" invariably chalked onto the bottom of their shoes.  In my case my brother walked me down the aisle since my father had passed away years before.  After two steps he began to stumble (he had knee surgery the WEEK before the ceremony - the rat).  I supported his weight for only one or two steps before he regained his footing.  I told him later I was prepared to drag him by the hair down that aisle.  Luckily I was spared that indignity.

Victoria's engagement ring - the first engagement ring ever made.  A snake was the symbol of eternal love, the emerald was her birthstone.

"A jeweled ring has been for many years the sign of betrothal but at present a plain gold circlet with the date of the engagement, is preferred.  It is removed at the altar by the groom, passed to the clergy man, and used in the ceremony.  A jeweled ring is placed upon her hand by the groom on the way home from the church, or as soon after the ceremony as convenient.  It stands guard over its precious fellow, and is a confirmation of the first promise."

Isn't that the sweetest sentiment?  I tried to convince Richie that matching earrings, bracelet and necklace were traditional also.  No, he didn't believe it either.

"The Bridal Tour

The honeymoon of repose, exempt from all claims of society, is now prescribed by the dictates of common sense and fashion, and the same arbiters unite in condemning the harassing bridal tour.  It is no longer de rigueur to maintain any secrecy as to their plans for travelling, when a newly married couple depart upon a tour."

My heavens, what in the world does that mean?  I remembered in "Oklahoma" the couple was chased out onto the roof - a shivaree they called it in the west.  Did people really terrorize couples like that in Victorian times?  

Richie and my version of 'harassment' was when about thirty of our friends showed up at the hotel the next morning, rousted us out of bed (we both had horrid hang-overs), overfed us at the buffet and dragged us home to open their gifts.  

As I said, it was the best day of my life.  

It was actually the very first day of my life.

I love you Richie.  Happy Anniversary.

Visit my other website,

THE LEAGUE OF BRITISH ARTISTS

And follow the link there to buy my book, 

a very funny and poignant continuation of Pride and Prejudice

"Darcy and Fitzwilliam:

A Tale of a Gentleman and an Officer"

Coming soon - a sequel to my continuation of
Pride and Prejudice

(confused yet?)

"Darcy and Fitzwilliam:

Sons and Daughters"

Alt Clut "Rock of the Clyde"

by Richard Denning

Last month I spoke about one fortress I had visited in Scotland at Easter (Dunadd the stronghold of the Scots). On the way home we had the chance to stop by Dumbarton Castle. Today I will share some images from the castle.

Dumbarton gets its name from Dun Breatanin which means fortress of the Britains. For Dumbarton was once the capital of the Kingdom of Strathclyde. That Kingdom was Roman-British or welsh speaking - the same peoples who became Welsh or Cornish but were displaced by the invading English. Strathclyde survived as an independent state until Duncan becomes king of a unified Scotland in 1034.

Through those centuries of conflict with the Scots and Picts to the north and west and the English to east and south it was this fortress that was their stronghold. Small wonder that another, older name for it was Alt Clut "the rock of the Clyde".

The earliest mention of the site was in the 5th century but archaeology suggests that it was a fortress way back in the bronze age. Small wonder for it is a natural defensive position. From a distance we see two huge hills. The fortress straddled both hills. 

Alt Clut, ancestral home of the kings of Strathclyde, was located on the north bank of the River Clyde on and between two rocky outcrops that thrust skyward on a small peninsula projecting out into the river. The lands in the immediate vicinity were still fairly low-lying with only occasional hills. Yet, as we approached along the river, the outlines of mountains were visible to the north and to the west. It was into those highlands that we were heading come the morrow.

The path took us towards the city built near the fortress and then, just before it entered the city walls, it branched and we followed the southerly route, which led us through a high wooden palisade built across the neck of land leading into the small peninsula. Once through the wall we found ourselves amongst a collection of shacks and huts housing blacksmiths, tanners, farriers and store houses. Beyond these, overshadowed by two watch towers high up on the rocky outcrops, was a king's hall. We dismounted, left the horses with our escorts and walked towards it.

From Child of Loki

The Vikings raided the fortress in 871 and captured it.

Later the castle was visited by Mary Queen of Scots who sailed from here to France.

IN later centuries it seems to have dwindled in importance until the Jacobite rebellions of 1715 and 1745. A new Georgian castle and garrison was built after this and the place armed with powerful 12 pdr cannons. 

At the top of the castle a magazine was built to store the gunpowder for the cannons.

These days it is only the Georgian castle that survives although the museum has images of its life in earlier centuries. This castle has the longest recorded history of any in Britain. It has some stunning views across the river Clyde and you can even see the mountains to the north. Well worth a visit.

The St. Brice’s Day Massacre

by Patricia Bracewell

In Anglo-Saxon England – as in most of the medieval world – the game of thrones was a deadly serious one. A particularly vicious move in that game occurred in Britain on 13 November, 1002, and it was one of the most infamous events of English history. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle reported it this way:

“…the king gave an order to slay all the Danes that were in England. This was accordingly done on the mass-day of St. Brice because it was told the king that they would beshrew him of his life, and afterwards all his council, and then have his kingdom without any resistance.”

The St. Brice’s Day Massacre, as it came to be called, was recounted again in an English charter written two years later. It stated that the king and his counselors had agreed that the Danes who had sprung up in England “like cockles amongst the wheat” should be exterminated. The charter went on to say that in Oxford the Danes had sought to escape their fate by breaking into a church, and when they could not be driven out, the townsfolk had destroyed them by setting the building afire.

In 1002 the feast day of St. Brice fell on Friday the 13th and it was a bad luck day if you were a Dane in England.

Later historians added details to the story of the St. Brice’s Day Massacre, although it is difficult to determine how much of what they added was factual and how much was embroidered, or drawn from hearsay, or confused with other events.

Nevertheless there is no question that the St. Brice’s Day Massacre took place. There is still, though, some speculation regarding the details. How extensive was this “just extermination”? Who was caught in the net? Why, specifically was it carried out?

The king who gave the command was Aethelred II. His name meant “noble counsel”, but some time later another name, “Unraed”, meaning “ill counsel” was added. It was a punning name, the kind of word play that the Anglo-Saxons loved, so that he became King Aethelred Unraed, King Noble Counsel Lousy Counsel. The St. Brice’s Day Massacre turned out to be a spectacular example of lousy counsel.

What led to the massacre is a long and convoluted tale. Aethelred II’s reign (979-1016) was troubled by consecutive waves of ship borne marauders hailing from all parts of Scandinavia and Ireland. Aethelred tried to resolve his Viking problem by paying off some of these pirates with gold and giving them property in England. He wasn’t the first to do this. In an earlier century, after long years of battling the Viking plague, Alfred the Great had made treaties with his enemies, granting them land in eastern England. The area was named the Danelaw and in Aethelred’s time – a century later – the folk there still followed Danish laws and language, although their political and ecclesiastical leaders were appointed by the king.

Unfortunately for Aethelred, one of the Viking leaders who took the king’s coin around the year 1000 was a man named Pallig whose wife was the half-sister of the Danish king, Swein Forkbeard. When King Swein himself raided England in 1001, his brother-in-law Pallig, who should have defended his new English home against this Danish threat, gathered men and ships and joined in the pillaging and burning. Who can say what motivated him? Was he bored and discontented on his new properties? Did Swein call on kinship ties to persuade Pallig to his side?

Were Pallig’s shipmen surly and combative, in need of some more strenuous occupation than farming? Or was it merely a case of once a thief, always a thief?

Aethelred must have decided that it was the latter, because even though he eventually bribed King Swein to depart and bribed Pallig (again), to go back to his estates, Aethelred apparently began laying the plans for the massacre that would occur on St. Brice’s Day in 1002.

It’s doubtful that the killings were intended to reach into the long-settled region of the Danelaw where residents of Scandinavian descent probably outnumbered those whose bloodlines were Anglo-Saxon. The population targeted for execution would likely have been more recent arrivals in the south and west – shiploads of young warriors, trouble-makers who considered themselves outside the law. Pallig certainly was among the victims, as were his wife and young son – 11 th century collateral damage. In recent years, in Devon and Oxfordshire, archaeologists have found two mass graves of Scandinavian warriors dating to the period of the 1002 massacre, their bones bearing marks of multiple severe blade wounds. Some of the skeletons in the Oxford grave showed signs of burning. Quite possibly, these were victims of St. Brice’s Day and if so, the current body count from the two graves is 88. While it is impossible to know exactly how many were executed that day, we know this much: it did not accomplish the result that Aethelred intended – to preserve his kingdom from the hands of the Danes. It did just the opposite.

The Viking attacks continued and many historians believe that from St. Brice’s Day forward the raids were no longer random expeditions with the aim of accumulating wealth at the expense of the English, but were motivated by the dual goals of revenge and the complete conquest of England. In 1003 King Swein returned to Britain with an army, and Danish armies struck again every following year but one until 1016. It took more than a decade, but in the end not only was Aethelred dead, but a Danish king sat on the throne of England. Wyrd bið ful aræd. Fate is inexorable.

Patricia Bracewell is the author of Shadow on the Crown, the first book of a trilogy set in the reign of Aethelred II and his queen, Emma of Normandy, to be released in 2013 by Viking in the U.S. and by HarperCollins in the U.K. Patricia blogs weekly about history, fiction, her travels and research HERE.

Swords and Armor - History You Can Hold

by Scott Higginbotham

For the uninitiated, the subject of history can be a bleak undertaking filled with endless battles, lofty titles, dramatic events, and names you would blanch at being called - Percival and Hedwise are no longer as popular as they once were, though they are beautiful names. However, historical fiction fills a unique niche, which has the power to draw readers into a love of the past.

An historical fiction author adds seasoning to the characters and the places, thus enlivening a time period in a fashion that transcends the span of time. This takes time and research to ensure that the tenor of that period is maintained. Additionally, real life experience combined with the factors that ail humanity can set an author’s novel apart from the others – from great to something to crave.

Have you ever tried boiled oats? By itself, a bowl of this concoction is maddeningly bland. But as you add spices, sugar, or butter an otherwise unpalatable meal can undergo a dramatic transformation to “great”.

Recently, I visited Museum Replicas annual open house sale, as is my yearly custom, which does relate to oats, butter, sugar, spices, and historical fiction. Three years ago, I summoned the courage to enter their building for the first time, complete with crenellated walls and lancet windows. To my great surprise, a well-planned showroom stoked my fascination, for it was filled with medieval armor, helmets, clothing, and swords all pleading for some human interaction.

I did not disappoint them.

Their Norman helm, complete with a nasal bar, would offer dubious protection as much of the face is uncovered. I would think twice before making a sally or charging headlong into the fray with such exposure. The flat-topped Great Helm afforded much better protection, but the heat and echo of your own voice inside that metal shell would help you very little, especially when there was no peripheral vision and when the frontal vision was limited to two small vision slits. The ventilation holes dotting the front would cool any wearer’s head, but only in winter and at a full gallop atop a destrier. God bless those men of iron who pushed through these limitations.

As I moved into the fifteenth century, I placed a fully enclosed jousting helm on my head after locking the hinged, lower faces into place and securing them with a clasp. I snapped the visor down smartly and found that the range of vision and ventilation was better, but that the fit was incredibly tight. An armor-denting blow from a mace would render any wearer senseless. And so, it was then that I decided that the middle ages were perhaps best left to books and helmet removal was the forte of squires, owing to the embarrassing fact that I had forgotten the donning sequence. Thirty seconds of sweating and frantic breathing, without asking for assistance, amazingly clarified my thoughts to the point where I could remove it unaided.

No one noticed my fumbling or the gasps of breath echoing from inside my steel shell.

God bless those men of iron. And their squires.

Over the last three years, I have amassed seven swords and two daggers from open houses and Saturday visits. Doesn’t everyone have at least a few lying around? Not all swords are created equal; however, there are commonalities that exist across the spectrum. Each of the pieces shown here has a pommel, grip, crossguard, leather scabbard, and blade. The one on the right is a functional, two-handed longsword with a 34” fullered blade and leather grip. Its partner is more ornate, boasting a wire and leather grip, a pommel with a lion rampant device, a set of fullers on each side of the blade versus the middle, and 4” of the 36” blade is an unsharpened length of steel (ricasso) to assist in either plunging it into an opponent or pulling it free. It was also useful for “choking up” on the sword in close quarters.

While writing this post I took a break and cycled each sword up and down – one in the left hand and the other in the right. Then I alternated the swords from one hand to the other and continued the process. The hand with the ornate sword began to wobble and weaken, while the hand with the functional sword was going strong. The difference can be chiefly traced to size of its pommel and the absence of the ricasso. For Richard the Lionheart and the depictions of his strength, I can guess that his choice would be the longer and heavier sword. For myself, I would trade beauty for function.

Is there a point in all of this?

I believe there is.

As writers of historical fiction, who are our characters? If they are knights or soldiers, then they have years of training, strength, and endurance under their belts, but they are still imperfect.

Does your character have poor eyesight? Did your protagonist have a sleepless night in a siege camp only to be awakened by shouts of a rout? How is his sword arm? Was he awakened on the wrong side of the ground with kinks to work out? Is there smoke that would further restrict his vision from the inside a Great Helm? Has it been raining? How about the heat?

I’m speaking to myself as much as anyone else.

Experience can buttress primary and secondary research in dramatic ways. It’s one thing to describe donning armor, a helm, strapping on a swordbelt, and then dashing down the field. Few would gainsay what you had written. It’s another to have actually experienced some of the annoying and restrictive nuances, coupled with human limitations, and wonder how anyone fictitious or real pushed through.

But these features create the novels that we crave. This is not a barb pointed at anyone in particular, who has not benefited from real life experience. Moreover, it’s a standard that I have noticed in some exceptional authors who have been blessed with experience or have listened and applied these types of word pictures from others.

Katherine Ashe depicts Simon de Montfort as having nearsighted vision and this makes for some interesting segues that colors some of his challenges. The first chapter of Montfort: The Early Years begins with a description of his youthfulness, his poor eyesight, and a challenge with another knight; he wasn’t afforded the time to put on his helmet, but imagine how much worse it could have been. Concerning young Simon, she writes, “At this distance the novice could see no more of his adversary than a dark shape melting at the edges into the gray rain.” Did Simon push through? You’ll have to read Montfort: The Early Years for the answer.

Elizabeth Chadwick has mentioned hands-on experience as a useful tool; she knows what it is like to walk up a spiral staircase to the battlements in medieval shoes, what it’s like to gaze across a field through a 12th century helm, or cook with period cookware. And I believe her. Reading her books is akin to stepping into the past.

If you do not have the good fortune to have had hands-on familiarity, ask questions, seek those opportunities to get it, and read what others have learned firsthand and apply. This could be that small, missing ingredient that makes your sugared, buttered, and spiced bowl of boiled oats go from great to something to crave.

And ask a squire for assistance.

Scott Higginbotham is the author of A Soul’s Ransom, a novel set in the fourteenth century where William de Courtenay’s capture and escape tests his mettle and forges his future, and For A Thousand Generations, where Edward Leaver navigates a fourteenth century world where he finds a purpose that the generations cannot contain. Both novels complement one another without detracting.