Kate Dickens and the Black Brunswicker

by Phillip Brown

The Black Brunswicker by John Everett Millais

John Millais had been a good friend of Charlie Colllins who was engaged to Kate Dickens in 1859. Through his friend Millais became friends with Kate and Charles Dickens (despite his review of 1850 slating Millais’ Christ in the House of his Parents). Millais asked permission to paint Kate (who was very keen on painting) for a picture he had in mind which would repeat the success of The Huguenot".

Millais spent three months painting ‘The Black Brunswicker’. Studies for the work exist both in the Lady Lever Art Gallery’s archives as well as in Tate Britain.

An early study before the composition was settled (Liverpool)

Its style was a return to his earlier pre-raphaelite style whereas in later pictures he eschewed the minute detail for a more impressionist / symbolic style. Probably because he needed the money to support his growing family he had to produce paintings more quickly.

Detailed examination of the painting has revealed a grid of drawing lines only 1cm apart with pinholes at each end as if strings had been stretched across as a guide to help him using the mixture of life models and life-sized wooden models.

The male model was an anonymous soldier in the Life Guards who died shortly afterwards of Consumption. The two models never actually met. Millais' son says that they both posed with wooden props. He "clasped a lay-figure to his breast, while the fair lady leant on the bosom of a man of wood."

As a sensible middle-class lady, Kate was chaperoned to the long sessions. The two models never actually met.

Sketched in 1860 as a study for
The Black Brunswicker

‘The Black Brunswicker’ was greatly admired when exhibited at the Royal Academy Exhibition in 1860 and was bought for the highest price, 100 guineas, Millais had yet received by the famous dealer and publisher Ernest Gambart. He sold it on to the well-known Pre-Raphaelite collector Thomas Plint. Later, in 1898, William Hesketh Lever purchased the work for his private collection. Millais also painted two watercolour copies of the composition.

Ruskin praised Millais’s work comparing him with the other important British painter Turner. However Ruskin and Millais’s friendship broke up when the painter devoted himself to painting portraits of famous people (around 1880), an art form that Ruskin considered a sell-out of Millais’s talents. Millais was elected a Royal Academician in 1863 and a President of the Royal Academy in 1896 when already ill with cancer. When he died he was buried in St Paul’s Cathedral next to Frederic Leighton.

The Black Brunswickers (Schwarze Schar) were a volunteer corps raised by German-born Frederick William, Duke of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel (1771–1815) to fight in the Napoleonic Wars. He entered into an agreement with the Austrians to raise a new corps of infantry and cavalry.

[Osprey Publishing publish the really detailed The Black Brunswickers 1973]

Distinctively attired in black broadcloth with a silvered death's head badge on their hats, the volunteers were nicknamed the Black Horde or the Black Legion; their more commonly-known title was the result of the Duke's temporary capture of the German city of Braunschweig (Brunswick) from the French in 1809.
Upon Napoleon's escape from Elba in 1815 he once more placed himself under the Duke of Wellington's command and joined the allied forces of the Seventh Coalition in Belgium. The "Brunswick Corps", as it is called in the order of battle for the Waterloo Campaign, formed up as a discrete division in the allied reserve. Its strength is given as 5376 men, composed of eight infantry battalions; one Advance Guard or Avantgarde, one Life Guard or Leib-Bataillon, three Light and three Line Battalions. They were supported by both a horse and foot artillery battery of eight guns each. Also included were a regiment of Brunswicker Hussars and a single squadron of Uhlans were often attached to the allied cavalry corps.
The Brunswick Corps formed part of Wellington's Reserve Corps, under his personal command. At the battle of Waterloo the Brunswickers had many new inexperienced troops and their line broke under a fierce attack from the French Grenadiers but later recovered. British sources give the number of Brunswickers killed in action that day as 154 with 456 wounded and 50 missing. In the following days, they escorted 2,000 French prisoners back to Brussels and then marched on to Paris. They finally returned to Brunswick on 6 December 1815.

The painting depicts a Brunswicker about to depart for battle. His sweetheart, wearing a ballgown, restrains him, trying to push the door closed, while he pulls it open. This suggests that the scene is inspired by the Duchess of Richmond's ball on 15 June 1815, from which the officers departed to join troops at the Battle of Quatre Bras (the next day) where the Brunswicker’s lost a lot of troops. The Brunswickers were well regarded by the British public (if not so much by the British Army who regarded them as ‘shaky’) and Millais would have known that many were still alive who would have known about their roles in the battles against Napoleon and the funeral of the Duke of Wellington (1852). In a letter to his wife, Effie Gray, Millais described his inspiration for the work, referring to a conversation with William Howard Russell, the war correspondent of The Times:

My subject appears to me, too, most fortunate, and Russell thinks it first-rate. It is connected with the Brunswick Cavalry at Waterloo...They were nearly annihilated but performed prodigies of valour... I have it all in my mind's eye and feel confident that it will be a prodigious success. The costume and incident are so powerful that I am astonished it has never been touched upon before. Russell was quite struck with it, and he is the best man for knowing the public taste. Nothing could be kinder than his interest, and he is to set about getting all the information that is required.

The original title was Brunswickers but the ‘s’ was dropped. Wellington had died in 1852 and many would still remember his huge funeral. The composition of the beautiful satin against the black uniform was deliberate. Notice the picture of Napoleon behind the two figures (after Jacques-Louis David's Napoleon Crossing the Alps).

The dog at the soldier’s feet draws attention to the humanity of the subject whilst the black uniform against the white dress perhaps signifies war and peace. The dress is perhaps too brilliant, with its beautiful creases and tie but it was considered a technical triumph.

Holy Grails, Bejeweled Crosses, and Beastly Aquamanilia: European Art in the 13th Century

by Sherry Jones

Medieval artists created their works not to express, but to impress. At a time when standing out in a crowd could earn you an accusation of heresy -- along with possible torture and burning at the stake --  artists used their talents primarily to exalt God -- with exquisite crosses, censers, reliquaries, and other objects used in religious ceremonies as well as colorful stained-glass -- and to bring beauty into the lives of the exalted, via gem-encrusted drinking goblets, engraved platters, jewelry, and curiously shaped water pitchers called "aquamanilia."

As I wandered through the Cloisters museum in New York last March, I imagined the sisters in my novel "Four Sisters, All Queens," and what they might have seen in their splendiferous royal lives. Here's a sampling of what I found. To see more, head to my website's scrapbook page.

Plaque with Censing Angels, Haute-Vienne, Limousin, France, 1170-80. Champleve enamel and copper gilt

Two mournful angels are showing waving censers over what would have been the scene of Christ’s crucifixion. All around them, stylized clouds; behind them; copper gilt in a swirling pattern known as vermicule, in a plaque that must have decorated one of the largest crosses -- at least four feet high -- produced at Limoges.

King Louis IX Carrying the Crown of Thorns ca. 1245-48

As described in FOUR SISTERS, ALL QUEENS, this stained glass depicts French King Louis IX (Saint Louis) carrying the Holy Crown of Thorns after buying them for the kingdom from Baldwin, the Emperor of Constantinople. Here the crown is shown in a golden chalice, but chroniclers wrote of his bearing it in a golden box, barefoot, all the way from Sens to Paris — a walk that would have taken him more than a week to complete.

Front view

Back view

Cross, Suffolk, England, 1150-60, possibly from the abbey at Bury St. Edmunds. Walrus ivory with traces of paint.
This cross is said to be one of the great medieval finds of the 20th century and a masterpiece in ivory carving, featuring more than 100 figures depicting scenes from the Old and New Testaments.

Chalice, Germany, 1230-50. Silver gilt, niello, and jewels

Stunning! The craftsmanship is amazing considering the era. This chalice was used to celebrate the Eucharist, commemorating his sacrifice by eating bread and drinking wine said to be transformed into his flesh and blood during the ceremony. On the base are four Old Testament scenes thought to prefigure New Testament scenes on the knop above: Moses and the Burning Bush (the Annunciation), the flowering of Aaron’s rod (the Nativity), Noah’s Ark (the baptism of Christ), and Moses and the Brazen Serpent (the Crucifixion). The niello decoration on the bowl’s exterior depicts Christ standing with the twelve apostles.

Game piece: Hercules Slaying the Three-Headed Geryon, Cologne, Germany, 1150. Walrus ivory

It wasn't ALL about religion in the Middle Ages. Classical literature, including pagan mythologies, were a part of every "lettered" person's education. This game piece, from a backgammon precursor known as “tables,” depicts Hercules slaying the three-headed monster Geryon, shown slain at the bottom of the scene and with Hercules’s foot on its neck. This tableman contains traces of paint; often pieces for one side in the game were painted while those for the opposing side were left unpainted.

Aquamanilia (aqua=water + manus=hand) were a type of pitcher used for washing the hands. Above, from England, is a glazed ceramic aquamanile in the form of a ram, created sometime between 1250 and 1350. Below are three aquamanilia from North Germany, fashioned in the 13th century: in the form of a lion (left), a dragon (center), and a man on horseback. 

Which all goes to show -- they really don't make them like they used to!

Sherry Jones is the author of "Four Sisters, All Queens" (Simon & Schuster/Gallery), an historical novel about four sisters in 13th-century Provence who became queens of England, France, Germany, and Italy (Sicily), as well as an e-book prequel, "White Heart: A Tale of Blanche de Castille, the White Queen of France." She is now working on a new book, also under contract with Simon & Schuster, about the storied 12th-century lovers Abelard and Heloise.

Pirate Extraordinaire and Friend to the Crown

by Katherine Pym

Sir Henry Mainwaring began life in Shropshire around 1587. He was born in a family of gentry, educated as a lawyer at the Inner Temple of London. In 1612, he was given the post to escort the English ambassador to Persia. It would be in an armada type format as a protection against the pirates that hung around the Strait of Gibraltar, but Spain and Venice did not trust the armada. They believed the English would turn to piracy as soon as the fleet entered the Mediterranean.

This irritated Mainwaring. In a ship purchased for £700, he set out to the Mediterranean where he turned pirate. He harassed the Spanish, and any other ships not English for a period of several years. He had a fleet of approximately 6 ships, and considered himself the scourge of the Mediterranean.  But he did not center around there.


By 1613, he set his base in Ma'amura 'at the mouth of the Sebou River, about 150 miles south of the Straits'. It was a 'popular pirate stronghold in the early 1600s, a "place of rendezvous" for a reported forty ships and 2000 men.' Mainwaring used this base to harass Dutch shipping, the Spanish, French, and Portuguese. His only firm promise was never to attack an English ship, even though he could have amassed a fortune from them. His countrymen's vessels carried goods from the Levant Company which included spices, fabrics, and unique goods.

In 1614, Mainwaring left the Ma'amura foothold, which was fortuitous. After he'd left, a Spanish armada of 99 ships and thousands of men took hold of the mouth of the Sebou River, and settled in the area, declaring it a Spanish territory. Mainwaring had been saved from destruction by the skin of his teeth.

Now, his main goal was to pester the fishing fleet off Newfoundland. He took ships (not English), their munitions, food, and men. He told King James I one day these men were "many volunteers, many compelled."  When King James I asked how this was, Mainwaring replied many men wanted to become pirates, but they were afraid once a vessel was caught, they'd be hanged for piracy. They wanted to enjoy the fruits of these labors without the negative responses. A man hanged for piracy was left in the noose until 3 tides washed against him then dispersed before being cut down. If families didn't claim them, they'd be taken to be dissected.

After plaguing the fishing fleet off Newfoundland, Mainwaring's travels are blurred. He drifted back toward the Mediterranean, until in 1616 King James I pardoned him with the seal of England.
He settled in England, wrote a book titled: Discourse of the Beginnings, Practices, and Suppression of Pirates. He presented it to King James I and received a knighthood in response. He sat in the House of Commons 1620's, supported royalty during the Civil Wars, and exiled to France during the Commonwealth where he died in poverty.

For more information on pirates, please see my novel TWINS which takes place 1661 in London and along the Barbary Coast. You can find it: http://www.wings-press.com/Bookstore/Twins.htm

Bibliography: Pirates of Barbary by Adrian Tinniswood, and wikipedia

William Wallace, the Hero?--Two Sides to Every Story

By Rosanne E. Lortz

Whenever I study history, I have an innate bias in favor of the underdog. When the Britons face the invading Angles and Saxons, I root for King Arthur’s warriors at Badon Hill. When the Anglo-Saxons bear the iron yoke of the Normans, I rally with Robin Hood’s men in Sherwood Forest. And when the Scots thwart Edward I’s ambition to rule the entire island, I look to William Wallace as the hero of the hour.

My first introduction to William Wallace was in The Scottish Chiefs, a nineteenth century novel by Jane Porter. The highly romanticized story, strewn with N. C. Wyeth’s poignant illustrations, appealed to my young teenage self. My second encounter with Wallace was in the 1995 movie Braveheart. The much grimier, but still highly romanticized story appealed to my older teenage self. Both stories made me want to cry “Freedom!” with the Scottish warrior and shed tears for his patriotic martyrdom.

Wyeth's William Wallace

Later, when I was curious enough to sift fact from fiction, I discovered that both of these retellings were about as accurate as a perjurer’s deposition. But, even with all the embellishments discarded, I had no doubts where my loyalty lay. I was still committed to William Wallace, and taking Edward I’s side was unthinkable.

This certainty was sorely shaken when I encountered the Flores Historiarum, a Latin chronicle written by several English hands during the twelfth to fourteenth centuries. It was begun at St. Alban’s Abbey, continued at Westminster Abbey, and today there are approximately twenty manuscripts extant.

The Flores Historiarum presents a much less romanticized view of William Wallace; it presents an English opinion of the Scottish hero:

About the time of the festival of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a certain Scot, by name William Wallace, an outcast from pity, a robber, a sacrilegious man, an incendiary and a homicide, a man more cruel than the cruelty of Herod, and more insane than the fury of Nero…a man who burnt alive boys in schools and churches, in great numbers; who, when he had collected an army of Scots in the battle of Falkirk against the King of England, and had seen that he could not resist the powerful army of the king, said to the Scots, "Behold I have brought you into a ring, now carol and dance as well as you can," and so fled himself from the battle, leaving his people to be slain by the sword. 

He, I say, this man of Belial, after his innumerable wickednesses, was at last taken prisoner by the king's servants and brought to London, as the king ordained that he should be formally tried, and was on the eve of St. Bartholomew [23rd August, 1305] condemned by the nobles of the kingdom of England to a most cruel but amply deserved death. First of all, he was led through the streets of London, dragged at the tail of a horse, and dragged to a very high gallows, made on purpose for him, where he was hanged with a halter, then taken down half dead, after which his body was vivisected in a most cruel and torturous manner, and after he had expired, his body was divided into four quarters, and his head fixed on a stake and set on London Bridge. But his four quarters thus divided, were sent to the four quarters of Scotland. Behold the end of a merciless man whom his mercilessness brought to this end.

For the William Wallace of this story, the punishment fits the crime. For the William Wallace of this story, the reader has no tears.

The portrayal of William Wallace in the Flores Historiarum is certainly as yellow as a jaundiced eye can make it. Some could argue that it is as far removed from truth as the whitewashed hagiographies of several centuries later. But whether it is accurate or not, for me, this passage has always illustrated an important lesson: there are two sides to every story.

As a historical novelist concerned about my craft, I can’t always follow my innate biases. I can’t just root for the underdog, or the man with the most glamorous legends. If two voices deserve to be heard, I must let them both speak.

Wallace Monument near Stirling Bridge

____________________________

Rosanne E. Lortz is the author of 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.

You can learn more about Rosanne's books at her Official Author Website where she also blogs about writing, mothering, and things historical.

BY GOD'S GRACE by FELICIA ROGERS

Here's your chance to win a copy of Felicia Rogers' By God’s Grace, the second novel in Felicia’s historical series. This giveaway ends at midnight on Sunday, Aug. 12. For information about this book, click HERE.

So you say you want an execution...

by Samuel Thomas

Writers of historical fiction love executions. From Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall, to Nancy Bilyeau’s The Crown, to my own The Midwife’s Tale, authors cannot resist the lure of the gallows or (even better) the stake. Such moments provide drama, and tell the reader something important about the world our characters inhabit.

Unlike today’s executions which usually take place in a private (and bizarrely medical) setting, early modern executions had all the trappings of a civic ritual. Prayers were said, sermons preached, speeches delivered, all with the goal of setting the world right after a terrible murder. The blood of the victim cried out for justice – an eye for an eye – and the executioner provided it. 

 But the symbolism went further than this.  In many cases, a murderer was executed not at the prison, but at the very scene of the crime. In 1668, Thomas Savage murdered his fellow servant, and after his conviction, he was hanged from a gibbet built in front of the house where he’d committed the crime. What better way to close the book on a murder?

Executions thus were morality plays in which the Crown saw justice done and overawed its subjects with the power of life and death. Given this public setting, it was important that everyone played their part. The condemned was supposed to confess to his crime and confirm that the execution was just. The crowd were supposed to bear witness to justice and the power of the government.

If this was the goal of the play, however, in many cases the actors or the audience went off-script and improvised an entirely new drama, with a much more opaque meaning. The first place that the meaning of an execution could go wrong was with the crowd, for many executions had all the dignity of a three-ring circus.  Peddlers strolled through the crowd crying their wares, and many in attendance treated the execution as an opportunity for eating, drinking and socializing.

One pamphlet from 1696 shows a preacher delivering an execution sermon, while behind him see not only the condemned offering up his last prayers, but a magician performing on an adjacent stage. (In this case it seems better to be the opening act than the headliner.) In other cases, government officials explained their decision to publish the condemned prisoner’s final words by saying that the crowd was too loud for anyone to hear him. 

If a festive crowd (and magician) could get an execution off on the wrong foot, the condemned could make things worse. In many cases, Catholics those condemned for treason proved the most difficult to control. Some Catholics claimed to die as martyrs to the Church (rather than traitors to the Crown – a vital distinction at the time), kissing each step of the ladder as they climbed it, and in one case kissing the executioner himself! Once on the scaffold, they would use their final speeches not to affirm the justice of their execution, but to defend the Catholic Church.

In cases such as these, the crowd or even the presiding officials could get involved, once again robbing the event of its solemnity. In 1591, judge Richard Topcliffe attacked one prisoner saying, “Dog-bolt Papists! You follow the Pope and his Bulls; believe me, I think some bulls begot you all!” Not to be out done, the condemned replied, “If we have bulls [for] our fathers, thou hast a cow to thy mother!” Other prisoners taunted the crowd (who naturally gave as good as they got), or even engaged in raucous religious debates.

If executions were meant as awe-inspiring ceremonies that demonstrated the government’s power, many did not get the message, and we can only wonder what those involved made of such events.

--------------------------

Sam Thomas is the author of The Midwife's Tale: A Mystery from Minotaur/St.Martin's. Want to pre-order a copy? Click here. For more on midwifery and childbirth visit his website. You can also like him on Facebook  and follow him on Twitter.

A Royal Love Story-Richard II and Anne of Bohemia

by Anita Davison

Shakespeare portrayed Richard II as a cruel, vindictive and irresponsible king with a preponderance to madness. Hero or a tyrant, Richard was a cultured man who loved beauty and he was apparently a devoted husband.  Born the second son of Joan, the ‘Fair Maid of Kent’ and Edward, The Black Prince, at the Abbey of St. Andrew at Bordeaux on 6th January 1367.

Richard II

A contemporary description of him states:

"King Richard was of the comon stature, his hair yellowish, his face fair and rosy, rather round than long, and sometimes flushed;..He was prodigal in his gifts, extravagantly splendid in his entertainment and dress, timid as to war, very passionate toward his domestics, haughty and too much devoted to voluptousness...yet there were many laudable features in his character: he loved religion and the clergy, he encouraged architecture, he built the church of Westminster almost entirely, and left much property by his will to finish what he had begun."

Richard was not entirely without kingly principal, for he did not condone Christians  killing Christians and sought a way to end the Hundred Years War with France, not least because it was turning against the English.

One of Richard’s favourites, Michael de la Pole, and thus resented by the ‘council’, arranged a marriage for Richard with Anne of Bohemia, [Czechoslovakia] the eldest daughter of the Emperor Charles IV by his fourth wife, Elizabeth of Pomerainia. The union was unpopular, for not only did Anne bring no dowry, her brother, Wenceslas, demanded 20,000 florins (around £4,000,000 in today's value) for her.

Her arrival in England was postponed when, under the leadership of Wat Tyler, John Ball and Jack Straw, the populace gathered at Blackheath to air their grievances and demand the end of serfdom. The Tower of London was sacked, the archbishop of Canterbury murdered and John of Gaunt's Savoy Palace burned to the ground.

The fourteen-year-old King Richard, rode out to meet the rebels at Mile End and his apparent courage in facing the mobs contributed to the failure of  ‘The Peasants’ Revolt, though he was later forced by his Council to rescind the clemency he had granted the rebels.

A Romantic Portrait of Anne of Bohemia

Anne was sixteen and Richard a year younger when she left Bohemia for England in December 1381, accompanied by a large train of attendants under the charge of the Duke of Saxony, and of his wife the duchess, Anne’s aunt.

In Brussels, Anne was received by the Duke and Duchess of Brabant, Anne’s aunt and uncle, and from there she was to proceed to Calais by water, to avoid an overland route through French held lands. Here they heard that twelve armed vessels, full of Normans, were sent by the King of France to intercept her. After a month’s delay and some negotiations in Paris, the King of France sent word that he yielded to the Duke of Saxony's request out of kindness to his cousin Anne, but not out of regard to the King of England.

Anne was described as a Godly, intelligent young girl with an inquiring mind,  renowned for her love of reading and for her possession of the Scriptures in three languages. Her favourite books of the Bible were the four Gospels, which she constantly studied.

Anne resumed her journey by road, accompanied by the Duke of Brabant with an escort of a hundred spearmen. They were received at Gravelines outside Calais by the English ambassador, the Earl of Salisbury and his suite, attended by five hundred spearmen and five hundred archers. Along with a cavalcade of knights and nobles, all clad in full armor, the princess and her ladies made a magnificent entry into Calais, through a vast concourse of cheering spectators, trumpets and flags.

Ladies in Horned Headresses

After waiting for a favourable wind, she embarked on Wednesday morning, 18 Dec., and reached Dover the same day. Scarcely had she landed when a heavy ground swell smashed the vessels against each other, and the ship in which she had come over was broken to pieces.

A Westminster Chronicler called her ‘a tiny scrap of humanity’, and Thomas Walsingham related that the destruction of her fleet was a disastrous omen.

In Canterbury, Anne was received by Richard's uncle, Thomas, Duke of Gloucester, with a large retinue, then at Blackheath by the lord-mayor of London , the scene of 'The Peasants’ Revolt the previous year.

In London, the bride was welcomed by young girls at the top of a castle and tower throwing a shower of golden snow, with fountains at the sides flowing with wine and pages offering the princess wine from golden cups.

The marriage ceremony was performed in Westminster chapel on 22nd January 1382. King Richard appeared delighted with his bride, and after a week spent with her and the court in festivities and celebrations, they left for Windsor by barge, accompanied by Richard’s mother, Joan of Kent.

The aftermath of the Peasant’s Revolt were still evident and the culprits still being sought out for punishment. Their conditions distressed the young queen, who begged the king to grant a general pardon on the occasion of her coronation – a request he granted.

Anne became a peace-maker, interceding for those who offended the king as she travelled all over the country with him. In this age, women rode astride, or pillion, i.e. seated sideways on a cushion behind the male rider's saddle. Anne was said to have introduced sidesaddles; seats made of wood strapped to the horse’s back with a pommel for a hand grip, and a wooden plank, wide enough to accommodate both feet, hung along the left side of the animal.

This method of riding was considered necessary for high-born women to preserve their hymen, and thus ensure her purity. The young queen introduced new fashions into England, including the long-pointed shoes called Cracows.  Cracow, in Poland was within the dominions of Anne's father, and it is supposed that the fashion of wearing these shoes may have arrived in England through her attendants. She was also credited with introducing a head-dress for ladies, called the horned cap.

These horns were often two feet high, and equally as wide, arranged on a frame of wire and pasteboard, covered with gold-speckled muslin or gauze. Anne was apparently responsible for the introduction of pins into England. Up to that date, gowns were fastened by tiny skewers made of wood or ivory. Pins had been made for some time in Germany, and the use of them soon spread through England.

When Richard reached his majority, he asked his uncle Gloucester at the council table to tell him how old he was ; and when the duke replied that he was twenty-two, declared:  'Then I must be able to manage my own affairs as every heir in my kingdom can do at twenty-one.'

King Richard II and Queen Anne

He took possession of the great seal and the keys of the exchequer.  In celebration, he arranged a round of celebrations which rivalled his coronation. At a tournament at Smithfield, Anne presented the prizes, which consisted of a rich jewelled clasp and a crown of gold. Then came a banquet at the palace of the Bishop of London, with music and dancing, jugglers and acrobats which continued into the night.

Richard liked to live in style, and kept many establishments in palaces round the country – another annoyance to his impoverished people. His entertainments and banquets were magnificent, while he employed three hundred scullions in his kitchens.

In 1394, when Richard was preparing for an expedition into Ireland to quell a rebellion, the queen fell ill at Shene Manor, purportedly of the plague. The king rushed to her side and was with her when she died. Inconsolable at the loss of his wife, Richard ordered Shene to be partially dismantled, but he never occupied it again.

Richard summoned all the nobles and barons of England to a funeral that took two months to prepare; another expensive pageant. They and their wives were expected to arrive the day before and escort the body for Shene to Westminster Abbey.

A long procession escorted the body from Shene to Westminster, accompanied by a large number of torch-bearers; so many, the wax had to be imported from Flanders expressly for the purpose. Anne was buried in the Confessor's chapel behind the high altar in Westminster Abbey, where Richard had ordered a double tomb made for them both.

The Earl of Arundel absented himself from the procession and then, arriving late at the abbey, asked permission to leave early on urgent business. Richard was deeply offended and appears to have drawn his sword upon the earl. 'The king himself,' says the contemporary writer from whom our only knowledge of the incident is derived, 'polluted the place with the blood of the Earl of Arundel at the commencement of the funeral office.' He ordered the – presumably injured - earl to the Tower, releasing him a week later.

Richard’s biographer, Nigel Saul, states that for a year after Anne’s death, he refused to go into any room she'd been in.

Coppersmiths crafted effigies of gilded copper and latten in a canopy above the crowned figures of Richard and Anne, their right hands joined, and holding sceptres in their left hands.

Anne’s epitaph mentions her as having been kind to 'pregnant women'. The Evesham chronicler said, ‘this queen, although she did not bear children, was still held to have contributed to the glory and wealth of the realm, as far as she was able’. She was referred to as ‘Good Queen Anne’. Her tomb bears this inscription in Latin.

"Under this stone lies Anne, here entombed,

Wedded in this world's life to the second Richard.

To Christ were her meek virtues devoted:

His poor she freely fed from her treasures;

Strife she assuaged, and swelling feuds appeased;

Beauteous her form, her face surpassing fair.

On July's seventh day, thirteen hundred ninety-four,

All comfort was bereft, for through irremediable sickness

She passed away into interminable joys."

In the interests of state, Richard married Isabella of Valois two years later. She was only six at the time, though he was openly fond of her.

The last two years of Richard's reign are traditionally described as a period of tyranny with the government levying forced loans, carrying out arbitrary arrests and murdering the king's rivals. Some historians believe he suffered from schizophrenia, he certainly showed signs of mental illness, and a narcissistic personality.

Richard’s friends rapidly deserted him and he was forced to abdicate. Henry Bolingbroke proclaimed himself king and took the throne as Henry IV, and in September, Richard was taken to Pontefract Castle. By the end of February 1400, Richard of Bordeaux had starved to death.

Stylised Painting of Richard's Death

Isabelle grieved for him deeply, then remained for two years in England while Henry IV quibbled about returning both her and her  £83,000 dowry as per the marriage contract.

Initially buried in Kings Langley, Richard's body was interred where he most wanted to be, beside his beloved Anne at Westminster Abbey.

The clasped hands on the tomb no longer exist, though the inscription describes her as ‘beauteous in body and her face was gentle and pretty.’ Although this is not borne out by a bust of her in the National Portrait Gallery taken from her effigy which shows her as rather plain and plump.  Her tomb was opened in 1871, when many of her bones were found to have been stolen via a hole in the side of the casket.

After returning to France Isabella de Valois married Charles of Angouleme (later Duke of Orléans), but died in childbirth in 1409 at the age of 19.

Tretower Court and Castle Judith Arnopp

Tretower Court, Powys

I have lived in Wales for almost twenty years now and, although I am still stumbling upon new treasures, there are some places that I find myself returning to time and time again. One of my favourites is Tretower Court.  It sits in the green Usk Valley between Abergavenny and Brecon, seemingly untouched, timeless.

When compared with the tourist hot spots like Pembroke and Conwy castles the site is small but for me, the lack of gift shop and tearoom simply adds to the atmosphere. The noise of the traffic dwindles and all you can hear is birdsong and the sporadic bleating of sheep. Best of all, as the place is little known, there are occasions when you can find yourself there completely alone, with the ghosts of the past whispering in your ear. 

Tretower marks the period when castles were abandoned in favour of more comfortable, less fortified homes.  There are two distinct sites at Tretower, each as valuable in their own way as the other: the later medieval house and, two hundred yards to the north-west, the remains of the 12^th century castle stronghold, the round tower being added later in the period.

Tretower Castle

Although the more domestic Court building was erected early in the fourteenth century later additions to the Tower suggest that the stronghold was not entirely abandoned at this time. Should the house have come under attack the inhabitants would simply gather up their possessions, round up the livestock, and head for the impregnable walls of the tower.

The earliest part of medieval house is the north range, which dates from the early fourteenth century. The masonry and latrine turret on the west end may even have been built as early as 1300. The four major phases of building can clearly be seen from the central courtyard as can the later modifications added as late as the seventeenth century. As you move through the building from room to room, duck through low doorways, climb twisting stairways and creep into the dark recesses of the latrine turrets you will know you are not alone. So much has happened here, so many people have passed through, so much laughter has rung out and so many tears have fallen. A very brief history of the place reveals a wealth of stories waiting to be told.

Tretower Court photo courtesy of  C. J. McEwen

The first building on the site was a motte and bailey raised by a Norman follower by the name of Picard. The property passed through the family’s male line until the fourteenth century when it moved, via the female line, to Ralph Bluet and then, again through the marriage of another daughter, to James de Berkeley.

His son, also James, became Lord Berkeley on the death of his uncle. Tretower was later purchased from James by his mother’s husband, Sir William ap Thomas. Sir William’s second wife, Gwladys, gave him a son, William Herbert, later the earl of Pembroke, who inherited both Tretower and Raglan Castle on his father’s death. Tretower was later gifted to William’s half-brother, Roger Vaughan the younger, around 1450.

Herbert and Vaughan both played an important role during the Wars of the Roses with William Herbert becoming friend and advisor to Edward IV. His career continued to prosper until he was executed in 1469 following the Yorkist defeat at Edgecote.

Roger Vaughan, who was responsible for most of the major reconstruction of Tretower Court, was knighted in 1464, and present as a veteran at Tewkesbury and finally captured at Chepstow. There, he was beheaded by Jasper Tudor in an act of vengeance for beheading his father, Owen Tudor, ten years previously. Tretower remained in the possession of the Vaughans until the eighteenth century when it was sold and became a farm.

Years of neglect and disrepair followed and it was not until the twentieth century that preservation and repair work began.

The Hall Tretower Court Photo by C. J. McEwen

I am not a great fan of reconstructions, although I do realise their value. Too often historic buildings are Disneyfied and their historic role trivialised but the restoration at Tretower Court is not like that at all, or not yet anyway. The work is totally sympathetic and the building maintains an elegance and integrity.  At the risk of spouting clichés it is like stepping back in time, one can almost hear the laughter of children from the orchard, the sound of a minstrel singing or the murmur of women’s voices from the gardens. 

Medieval Garden Tretower Court

The garden is as beautiful and as authentic as any I have seen is this country. Laid out and designed by Francesca Kay, it has a covered walk to keep the sun from the ladies cheeks, tumbling red and white roses, lavender, aquilega, foxgloves and marigold sprawl beside a bubbling fountain in the midst of a chequered lawn.  

I spent a long time here on a Sunday morning in July, wandering through the rose arbour, lingering in the orchard before returning to the house. As I progressed along the dim corridors I could almost hear the skirts of my gown trailing after me on the stone floors. I paused, and time was suspended as I looked through thick, green glass to the courtyard and garden below.

Tretower courtyard

 If you should have the good fortune to visit Wales, make the time to call in at Tretower and don't forget to bring a picnic and a blanket for I guarantee you will want to stay a while.

 More information about Judith Arnopp and her books can be found on her website:

http://www.juditharnopp.com

Some of the Greatest Love Stories in History

by Philippa Jane Keyworth

I am rather nervous. I am sat at the end of the dining table in an empty room, my laptop staring back at me and I find I am a little reluctant to touch the keys. I was asked to write a blog for the Historical Author blog and being as I read it regularly, I know the standards and knowledge of the other contributors. With that in mind, I apologise unreservedly for anything I say which is incorrect.

I was so excited to be asked to blog and immediately thought of hundreds of things, well, okay, maybe five, which I could write about. I trawled the archives of the blog however, and found many of my potential titles had already been blogged about (and far better than I could have done I hasten to add!).

So, as I had my hands stuck in a bowl of frothy washing-up bubbles, I was surprised when I suddenly thought of what I would really like to write about. Yes, it’s true, a menial task such as washing up can really get your brain to thinking!

I want to blog about love.

I can hear the groans and whispered words of anguish already. The questions of, why would someone write about that? Again with the soppy, "Come on!"

Well, the thing is, there is a lot of really quite pants stuff going on in the world today: recession, job cuts, drug and alcohol abuse, rape, starvation, war and corruption to name a few. I expect even reading that list sent whatever small smile you had on your face firmly marching away.

The reason I want to blog about love in history is because sometimes you just need something to remind you that there is good in this world. Of course, the fact that I am hopelessly soppy and write Regency Romances has nothing to do with it. Whatsoever. At all.

ANYWAY, when thinking of love stories to recount I came up with three.

To start with, and probably quite surprisingly, I want to mention King Henry VII. He is known to most as a King suffering from immense avarice who was calculating and downright clever in his dealings with a fractious kingdom.

Most of that is true to some extent.  However, when I think of him, I still remember so clearly when I was sat in my history lesson at A-Level and learned Henry had married Elizabeth of York, a sworn enemy of his own house of Lancaster.

After being married for seventeen years Elizabeth died. Henry was recounted to have mourned her death very deeply, locking himself away and commanding no one to enter. This King, who was resented for his greed, actually gave Elizabeth a splendid funeral, sparing no expense. He was a King who had brought a kingdom reluctantly under his close control, a man who was calculating, methodical and cold, too cold you would think to love, and yet he grieved the loss of a Queen consort, a beloved wife and a true companion. I believe he really had loved her.

Next, Henrietta Maria and Charles I.

Now they are a couple which I have hitherto overlooked, but upon chatting to a friend who mentioned them, I decided to do a little research.

I found out quite a real and beautiful love story had existed between the two. Being a political match they did not exactly start married life seeing eye-to-eye and I mean that quite literally. They were married by proxy in May 1625 and then again in person in June 1625.

Yet, as with most of the love stories we cherish, the initial dislike gradually dissipated. The assassination of the King’s closest confidant, the Duke of Buckingham, did help the King’s relationship with his wife - morbid I know, but true.

The death of Buckingham paved the way for Henrietta to take Buckingham’s place. She slowly became the King’s confidant and friend and the seriousness of what they discussed was often lightened by his wife who, being a humorous woman, regularly played jokes on him.

Finally, most obviously, I want to talk about Victoria and Albert.

I have to be frank, I don’t know a great deal about the Victorians.  But what I do know is that Victoria and Albert were deeply in love. Married for 21 years to each other, they portrayed a couple with immense responsibilities who worked together throughout their lifetimes even having office desks facing each other!

Again, we saw a grieving monarch after the death of Albert. Victoria was so heart-broken at his death that she had all the railings and lampposts throughout London painted black in mourning for him. An entire city dedicated to remembering his loss, her loss, her love.

I hope reading this blog has given you a sense of hope. It can be easy, when studying history, to taint all of what has happened throughout humanity's existence with an evilness. It’s true, there have been atrocities uncountable and which should not be belittled or forgotten. Alongside those atrocities, I just wanted to point out, there was love and hope and happiness.

My wish is for this post to make others a little bit happier. I hope it worked.


'If you want to keep up with Philippa and her book 'The Widow's Redeemer' coming out later in 2012 here are her contact details:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/philippajane.keyworth
Twitter: @PJKeyworth
Blog: www.ridiculousauthor.wordpress.com
 

Border Reivers - Kinmont Willie Armstrong

by Tom Moss

The Border Reivers held sway in the lands on both sides of the English Scottish Border from the 13th to the 17th centuries. They are little heard of today but in their time they robbed, murdered and blackmailed the clans and surnames (families). Not only did they rob across the Border but also from their own people.

Authority and monarchy had little answer to their depredations. The Border Reivers answered only to the unwritten laws of their own people.

Border Marches

Kinmont Willie was, without doubt, one of the most notorious Scottish Border Reivers of the 16th century. His raids into England, in particular Tynedale in Northumberland, are particularly well documented. The primary sources from his day speak of big, organised raids involving hundreds of the reiver fraternity intent on spoil and destruction south of the Border.

As such Kinmont was well prized by the English. Unfortunately for them he was always one step ahead of any attempt to capture him and, when all else failed, it seemed that he was sheltered well by the Scottish March Wardens of his time, particularly the Maxwells. On at least one occasion the monarch of the Scottish realm, James Vl, was implicated by English authority smarting at the fact that Kinmont was never brought to justice. James was to laugh long and hard after one notorious raid led by Kinmont.

Some of the raids into England in which Kinmont took part resulted in complete penury for the English clans of Tynedale but he was never brought to justice even though the English hotly demanded that he should be made to answer for his crimes. This is especially true of the 1580’s.

Complaint of 30th August 1584.

‘Compleynes Bartrame Mylburne of the Keyme, Gynkyne Hunter of the Waterhead in Tynedale upon William Armestronge of Kinmowthe, (Kinmont), Eckye Armestronge of the Gyngles, Thome Armestronge called Androwes Thome, of the Gyngles, Johne Forster sone to Meikle Rowie of Genehaughe, George Armestronge, called Renyons Geordie, and his sons of Arcleton in Ewesdale, and there complices, for that they and others to the number of thre hundrethe parsons (persons) in warlike maner ranne one opyn forrowe (foray) in the daye tyme, on Frydaie in the mornynge last, being 30th August in Tynedale unto certen places that is to say the Keyme, the Reidheughe, the Black Mydennes, the Hill house, the Water head, the Starr head, the Bog head, the High feelde, and there raised fyer and brunte the most pairte of them, and maisterfullie refte, stale and drave awaye fowre hundrethe kyen and oxen, fowre hundrethe sheip and goate, 30 horses and mears and the spoyle and insight of the howses to the walewe of twoe hundrethe pounds, and slewe and murdered crewellie six parsons, and maimed and hurte ellevin parsons (persons), and took and led awaye 30 presoners, and them do deteigne and keip in warlike maner, minding to ransom them contrarie the vertewe of trewes (truces) and laws of the Marches. Whereof they aske redress.

Black Middens Bastle

‘At Michaelmas (29th September) 1584 Jake Huntter, Bartie Milburne of the Keam, Jarre Hunter, Michael Milburne and Lante Milburne of Tersett (Tarset) in Tyndaile (Tynedale) complain upon Davyee Ellot called the “Carlinge”, Clem Croser called “Nebless” (noseless) Clem, Thome Armestronge called “Symes Thom”, Will Armestronge called “Kinmothe” (Kinmont), Ector Armestronge of the Hillhouse, and other 300 men, who ran a day foray and took away forty score (800) kye (cows) and oxen, three score horses and meares (mares), 500 sheep, burned 60 houses and spoiling the same to the value of £200 sterling and slaying ten men’.

In 1593, some six years later, there is another complaint by the English against a Scottish raid involving William Armstrong of Kinmont:

‘On the 6th instant (October 1593), William Ellot (Elliot) of Lawreston, the Laird of Mangerton, and William Armstrong called Kinmott, with 1000 horsemen of Liddesdale, Eskdale, Annandale and Ewesdale ran an open day foray in Tyvedale (should say Tynedale) and drove off “nine hundred five score and five” (1005) head of nolt (cows), 1000 sheep and goats; 24 horses and mares, burned an onset and a mill and carried off 300l sterling of insight gear...'

Nicholas Forster (son of the English Warden) went to the king, James Vl, who was in the Scottish Borders at Jedburgh, demanding redress for the crime. The king protested it “was done contrary to his pleasure” and his present visit to the Borders was to see justice done and good order kept. A letter was received from the Scottish Council promising redress, but not so effectively as expected, as no “day of delivery is set down” (the handing over of the Scottish raiders).

The English doubt that the delays will be dangerous as they note that William Ellot and the principals of the crime have been before the King and “nothing is yet done”. Yet for all his infamous notoriety and his successful and uncontested raids into England Kinmont was to suffer the greatest of indignities when he was captured by the English at a time when he thought he was protected by the law of the Border at a ‘Day of Truce’.

On the 17th March 1596 a ‘Day of Truce’ was held at the Dayholme of Kershope. The Dayholme was an area of flatland abounding the little Kershope burn, the Border, to this day, between England and Scotland. It was a place traditionally used to hold ‘Days of Truce’, a day when felons and miscreants were brought to the Border Line to answer for their crimes against the Border Law.

At the Dayholme of Kershope on that day in the early spring of 1596 gathered about two hundred men to witness that the trials and judgement were both fair and deserved. Half of the witnesses were Scottish, the other half English. Among the Scottish contingent was one, William Armstrong of Kinmont, called by his March Warden to witness the events.

To bring together so many English and Scots who were often at loggerheads and feud could not be achieved without the promise of safe conduct. Therefore, written into Border Law was an ‘Assurance’ that all who attended did so on the understanding that they were immune from confrontation with any enemy from the opposite side of the Border or, indeed, fellow countrymen with whom they might be at feud. The ‘Assurance of the Truce’ was thus the vehicle which gave all confidence that they could attend with impunity. The ‘Assurance’ did not last only for the time that the trials were in session but until the sunrise following the Truce so that all who had attended would have time to return to their homes in safety.

The ‘Day of Truce’ at the Dayholme of Kershope was over before sunset on the day, it was but a minor affair held to comply with the requirements of Border Law. Both the English and Scottish contingents began to make their way homewards. Kinmont with a few acquaintances from the Scottish West March rode down the Scottish side of the river Liddel whilst his English counterparts made for home down the English side. All were confident that the ‘Assurance’ of the Truce still held and would do so until sunrise of the next day.

Suddenly the English turned and rode furiously across the river and chased Kinmont, just as suddenly aware that he was in imminent danger, down the Scottish bank. Not far from where the rivers Liddel and Esk join forces and run from there to the Solway Firth the Scottish party was overtaken and overcome. Kinmont was bound to his horse and conveyed, under guard, to Carlisle castle to await a decision on his future from Thomas Lord Scrope, English West March Warden, who was away on business at his ancestral home of Bolton castle in Wensleydale, north Yorkshire.

Scrope's Tomb

Thomas Lord Scrope was made English West March Warden in 1595. Even though he presided over the embarrassing and humiliating debacle that ensued following the capture and rescue of Kinmont Willie Armstrong, he was made a Knight of the Garter in 1599. He is buried in the village church of Langar in Nottinghamshire, England.

Following the capture, the Scots were up in arms and claimed that Kinmont Willie had been taken against the Assurance of the Truce and thus the English, in their rush to take the Scot, had transgressed the Border Law.

His capture by the English, the defiant yet rambling stance of Scrope in his efforts to justify Kinmont’s imprisonment in Carlisle castle is adequately documented in the ‘Calendar of Border Papers.’ Likewise the fury of his Scottish counterpart, Sir Walter Scott of Branxholme and Buccleuch, Keeper of Liddesdale, who rattled and railed yet endeavoured to effect Kinmont’s release through petition and diplomacy is also well recorded.

Sir Walter Scott of Branksome and Buccleuch was, without doubt, the major figure in the English Scottish Border lands of the late 16th century. Even though an arch Scottish Border Reiver he was knighted and made a Lord by James V1 of Scotland.

The relationship between these two main adversaries in Kinmont’s capture was particularly strained even by the standards of the times. March Wardens, acting for the west, middle and east of the country on each side of the Border were, at the very least in office to work in harmony. It was paramount in the role that they worked together to subdue the unruly Border people.

The reality was somewhat different. Often the Wardens of the Scottish and English Marches were at loggerheads as favour towards a particular family or clan on one side of the Border created friction on the other. There were many Wardens down the ages, with an eye for the main chance, who were not adverse to the receipt of a lucrative backhander from the product of the reive should they be willing to turn a blind eye to the reprehensible proceedings.

Scrope and Buccleuch took this iniquitous relationship to a newer and higher level. Scrope was to say of Buccleuch on the day following the capture of Kinmont:

‘Buccleugh’s messages and letters, extant with me, carried always in there fronte a note of pryde in him selfe and of his skorne towards me… a backwardness to justice, except the kind that he desired, which was solely for the profit of his own friends, and showed his disposition to disquiet the frontier, and disturb the peace between the princes’. (Elizabeth l and James Vl).

At another time Buccleuch had insisted that a notorious English reiver be brought to the Truce Day for trial and due justice but had then refused to hear the case because the ‘recettor’ or receiver of the stolen goods was not also present. Scrope was furious but his ire fell on deaf ears.

Their relationship was cold, inert and replete with attitude and stance. It did not augur well in coming to agreement in the case of the capture of Kinmont Willie Armstrong.

Scrope wrote to Elizabeth l asking what he should do with Kinmont. In his opinion he was such an important prisoner that he needed the ruling of the English monarch as to the course he should take. Should he bend to Buccleuch’s demands for Kinmont’s release or should he hold on to the great Scottish reiver?

He did not receive a reply and thus deemed that it was best that Kinmont should stay where he was, warded in Carlisle castle. Moreover he would have lost face with the Scottish West March if he had been ordered to loose Kinmont and probably have witnessed an escalation in the number of raids into his Wardenry. The Scots would not have been slow to perceive the lack of support from the highest of English authority and taken advantage of the fact. Thus the silence of Elizabeth brought some relief to the embattled English Warden.

Buccleuch wrote to Thomas Salkeld, Scrope’s deputy warden who had directed the English at the ‘Day of Truce’ at the Kershope burn. He demanded Kinmont’s release. He did not receive a reply.

At the same time Thomas Lord Scrope wrote to Cecil giving details of the capture and hinting that the Assurance of the Truce at the Dayholme had terminated at sunset on the same day and not at the following sunrise which was the norm. Cecil sought guidance as to the procedure at a Truce Day from Sir Ralph Eure who stated that the Assurance would normally terminate at the sunrise following completion of the Truce but that often, following dialogue between the Wardens, other times were agreed. One of these was sunset of the day if the ‘bills of complaints’ were few in number and those who had attended lived near enough to make their way home before sunset.

In all, the conclusions of the deliberations between Burghley and Eure added not only confusion but an effective smoke-screen behind which the English held on to Kinmont against the rising crescendo of calls from the Scots for his release.

Scrope would suffer because of his intractable and dictatorial approach towards the very men with whom he should have promoted harmony and unity when William Armstrong of Kinmont was captured and imprisoned in Carlisle castle. The Lowthers and the Carltons, both prominent north Cumbrian families, would endeavour to best Thomas Lord Scrope following Kinmont’s incarceration.

Scrope, on one occasion, was to sum up his approach to those who served him in a letter to Lord Burghley, Elizabeth’s chief minister, in 1593. ‘ This I consider no small contempt and scorning of my authority… for I hold myself so much dishonoured by the disobedience of any under me, that I must beseech her Majesty to countenance my orders in execution of my office…’

Working behind the scenes as the episode unfurled were the premier English Border clan, the Grahams. They were friends with Thomas Carleton, erstwhile Captain of Carlisle castle who had been dismissed by Scrope because of his double-dealing with the Scottish reivers. The latter readily invaded the barony of Gilsland at Carleton’s behest as long as a percentage of the takings came his way. When Scrope became aware of Carleton’s double –dealing he dismissed him out of hand. Fair as this was, Thomas Carlton from that time forward harboured a deep and lasting grudge against the English West March Warden.

The Grahams requested that Buccleuch should meet them to discuss the Kinmont affair. They inhabited the areas verging on the rivers of Esk and Line (Leven in the 16th century) as well as Netherby and Mote and had no great affinity with the Armstrongs of Liddesdale and Ewesdale, thus the request to meet Buccleuch was intriguing to say the least.

At the meeting the Grahams ventured the thought that Buccleuch, suitably accompanied with a party of Scottish reivers mainly from the vales of the rivers Liddel, Ewes and Annan, should raid Carlisle and force their way into the castle and rescue KInmont. Carlisle castle was the second strongest fortress on the Borders, only the castle of Berwick was stronger, and Buccleuch saw little chance of breaching its walls without a veritable army of Scots from the Border valleys.

When, however, the Grahams intimated that there would be not only inside help from the inmates of the castle but also a journey south through English territory uncontested by any of the English clans, Buccleuch warmed to the notion. The Grahams were emphatic in their claim that there would be no resistance to the raiding party’s crossing the Border into English territory.

Buccleuch, apprehensive as he was at the involvement of the Grahams, was convinced that there was little option to their aid. There would be no better chance of freeing Kinmont. Then again Kinmont was married to one of the Grahams and family ties were the mainstay of the Border clans. Allegiance to the clan was paramount.

Carvinley

After further meetings held at Carvinley (north of Longtown and Netherby) and Archerbeck (near Canonbie), the final plans were agreed at a dinner in Langholm castle where all the main plotters and instigators had gathered earlier in the day on the pretext of watching the horse racing on the Castleholm. A remark recorded from the mouth of Lancelot Carleton is worthy of note:- ‘If this comes to passe (the release of Kinmont) it will make an end of my Lord Scrope and devide Mr Salkeld and hime’. (Thomas Salkeld of Corby was Scrope’s deputy).

On 12th April 1596 the rescue party, about seventy strong, assembled at Mortonrigg, Kinmont’s tower in the Debateable Land and headed south for Carlisle at sunset. When they reached the eastern end of the Scots Dyke, the contingent from Annandale led by the Johnsons broke away from the party and went into hiding. In true reiver fashion they would remain there through the night and contest any pursuit of the rescue party on their return.

The remainder of the men heading for Carlisle, now about fifty strong, made their way under cover of darkness through the Graham lands of Esk and Leven. They encountered no-one. The Grahams had done their work well. On reaching the Staneshaw bank above the Eden (modern day Stanwix), the Irvines of Bonshaw (a tower still to be seen near Kirtle Bridge), broke from the others and concealed themselves near the road north, yet another potential ambush party.

Carlisle Castle

Soon after the remaining twenty-five or so of the raiders, mainly Armstrongs now, were looking across the river Eden, near its confluence with the river Caldew, at the formidable pile of Carlisle castle. Leaving their horses on the north bank, they swam the river, and made their way to a postern gate in the western wall of the castle. The gate was opened from the inside, probably by one of Thomas Carleton’s servants still employed there.

Only five of the raiders entered the castle. They knew the exact whereabouts of Kinmont’s warding because on the previous day a Graham, on legitimate business, had been told by one of the garrison, sympathetic to the cause, where Kinmont was held.

The weather on the night was horrendous. On the ride south the rescue party had been buffeted by torrential rain. On entering the castle they were served by the weather as the watch, almost to a man, were undercover, protecting themselves from the worst of the elements. Thus their entry was hardly contested. Only two men attempted to impede their progress to Kinmont’s cell and they were soon dealt with. Another guard, marshalling the entrance to the cell, was badly wounded.

The rescue party, now with Kinmont in their midst, left the castle, swam the river, and were soon on their way home to Scotland. The Irvines, stationed at the Staneshaw bank and the Johnstones at the Scots Dyke were soon to swell their numbers.

Scrope was to claim in letters to Lord Burghley that the castle had been attacked by 500 men from the Scottish Borders. In a letter to the Privy Council he wrote:

‘Yesternighte in the deade time therof, Walter Scott of Hardinge (Harden, south of Hawick), the chief man about Buclughe, accompanied with 500 horsemen of Buclughes and Kinmontes frends, did come armed… unto an outewarde corner of the base courte of this castell and to the posterne dore of the same-which they undermined speedily… brake into the chamber where Will of Kinmont was (and) carried him awaye… The watch, as yt shoulde seeme, by reason of the stormye night, were either on sleepe or gotten under some covert to defende them selves from the violence of the wether… Yf Buclugh him selfe have bin therat in person, the capten of this proude attempte, as some of my servants tell me they hard his name called upon… then I humblie beseech that her Majesty (Elizabeth l) wilbe pleased to send unto the Kinge (James Vl) … that he maye receive punishment’.

Scrope’s initial assessment would prove to be way off the mark. The humiliation he suffered on learning that the postern gate had been opened from the inside and, to add insult to injury, that the raiding party was but twenty-five strong, left him bemused, dispirited and looking for any available scape-goat.

He was soon to point the finger at his own subordinates for the ease with which the castle was breached:

‘ And regardinge the myndes of the Lowthers to do villeny unto me, havinge beene assured by some of their owne, that they woulde do what they coulde to disquiet my government, I am induced vehementlye to suspect that their heades have bin in the devise of this attempte, and am also persuaded that Thomas Carlton hath lent his hand hereunto; for it is whispered in myne eare, that some of his servauntes, well acquainted with all the corners of this castell, were guydes in the execution herof’.

Scrope even received an anonymous letter implicating the Carletons and Grahams:-
‘ Right honourable lord, pleaseth your lordship to ken this truth of the takinge oute of Kynmont… and speciallie Englishmen dwelland within the ground of England quha (who) was counsell and causers of it… Albeyt the Layrd of Buckclughe tooke the deede on hand, there is others that sarvis mare blame. The dischardginge of Thomas Carlton of his office (Scrope had dismissed him as Constable of the castle earlier that year) hes helpit your lordschip to receave this schame, with the help of Richey of Brakonhill (Brackenhill tower is still to be seen near Longtown), and others of the Grames (Grahams) quha was led by their counsel, hes done what they coulde to breake the countrey ever san Thomas was dischardged his office…’

It was soon established who the anonymous writer was. Richie’s Will, a Graham, had suffered horrendously at the hands of Buccleuch and had been waiting for the day when he could exact some retribution from the Teviotdale warlord.

Kinmont went in to hiding in Ewesdale and within a very short time resumed the ordinary business of his life- reiving. His last known raid was on High and Low Hesket (on the A6 between Carlisle and Penrith). After that he fades into oblivion and it is assumed that he died in his bed in about 1603 and is buried in Sark churchyard near his tower of Mortonrigg.

All hell let loose following the rescue. Elizabeth l was incandescent with fury that one of her premier Border strongholds had been attacked in time of peace between the two nations. On learning from Scrope that Walter Scott of Branxholme and Buccleuch was responsible for leading the raid she demanded that he be turned over to the English for due punishment.

James Vl of Scotland was between the ‘rock and the hard place’. Much as he admired Buccleuch and was sensitive that the eyes of the whole of Scotland were fixed on how he would deal with the English monarch’s demands, he was very conscious that he could not afford to alienate the English sovereign. In 1586 at the ‘Treaty of Berwick’ James had been granted a pension of £4000 by the English monarch, millions in today’s money, and a promise of sorts that he would rule in England on her death. As was his usual wont he stammered and stuttered and prevaricated.

The war of words which was to follow demonstrates clearly that the capture and rescue of Kinmont was not a minor affair. Rather it would severely strain the uneasy peace which existed between the realms.

The English Ambassador to Scotland demanded redress. He met with James Vl in May of 1596 in private and was to state that the two countries had been at lesser odds before which had resulted in war.

He was to say to James:

‘Foreasmuch as Walter Scott of Buccleuch, knight, with his complices, on April 13th last past, in warlike manner and hostility, hath entered into and invaded her Majesty’s realm of England, hath assailed her Majesty’s castle at Carlisle, and there violently assaulted her subjects, and committed other heinous offences there, contrary to the league and amity betwixt her Majesty and the King, giving thereby just and manifest occasion of the breach and violation of the same league and amity. Therefore it is required that he maybe be duly fyled (accused) for this fact and breach of the league and amity, and also delivered for her Majesty to suffer the pains, and to be afflicted and executed on him for the same fault.’

Two weeks later James Vl was to meet with his Council to consider the demands of Elizabeth. Buccleuch was present at the meeting.

He was to say:

‘that he went not into England with the intention to assault any of the Queen’s houses, or to do wrong to any of her subjects, but only to relieve a subject of Scotland unlawfully taken, and more unlawfully detained; that in time of general assurance, in a day of truce, he was taken prisoner against all order, neither did he attempt his release till redress was refused; and that he carried the business in such a moderate manner, as no hostility was committed.’

As three of the garrison of Carlisle had been injured in the assault Buccleuch said he was prepared to be tried by Commissioners.

Bowes, The English Ambassador, replied to the Scottish Council.

‘By the treaties of peace, laws, customs and practices of the Marches, such a crime ought to be punished. Buccleuch should be delivered up to England without examination by Commissioners.’ Bowes had spoken to Thomas Lord Scrope, English West March Warden, and been assured that the English had complied with Border Law and its Assurance.

As this statement was a blatant misrepresentation of the facts, James then wrote to Elizabeth. He encouraged Elizabeth to foster a more balanced view of the affair.

‘Stoppe the one ear quhill (while) you heare the other pairtie and then all passion being remouit (removed), uiselie (wisely) and justlie to judge, for I am fullie persuadit that quhen ye shallbe richtlie informed that injurie quhich made this other deide to follow (the capture followed by the rescue), the proceedinge shall yet qualifie very muche the other in your iuste censureing mind… my ansoure and request is both that ye wille be contente to appoint commisioneris on your pairte, as I shall be most reddye upon mine…’

On receiving this letter from James, Elizabeth resolved to discontinue the pension granted at the Treaty of Berwick in 1586. She was adamant that Buccleuch’s case would not be heard by Commissioners and was beginning to tire of the stance from James. Even her fertile mind, though, had not given due consideration to the removal of the pension.

The Scottish Council quickly perceived that James could not now conform to the wishes of Elizabeth. Had he done so and handed over Buccleuch to the English it would appear to the people of both nations that he had done so for the money. In due course, as a result of this, Elizabeth softened her approach. She did, however, still refuse to involve a Commission and openly stated that once this issue was resolved to her satisfaction, she would resort to the normal procedures involving Commissioners.

‘Wherein we shall receive present redress for the world’s satisfaction in this so extraordinary a crime then shall none be more ready, in things doubtful, to be guided by the rules of equal and ordinary proceedings by Commissioners, nor in any good offices according to the custom.’

Her frustration now boiled over:

‘Shall any castle or habytacle of mine be assailed by a night larcin, and shall not my confederate send the offender to his due punishment? For Commissioners I will never grant, for an act he cannot deny that made… and when you with a better weighed judgement shall consider, I am assured my answer will be more honourable and just.’

Acutely aware that the whole of Scotland were following the case with great interest and high feeling that Buccleuch had done nothing else but the duty of a committed Scotsman in righting a wrong, James wrote again to Elizabeth:

‘That he might, with great reason, crave the delivery of Lord Scrope, for the injury committed by his deputy (Thomas Salkeld of Corby who had presided for the English at the Day of Truce at the Kershope burn), it being less favourable to take a prisoner, than relieve him that is unlawfully taken. Yet for the continuing peace, he would forbear to do it and omit nothing on his part, that could be desired, either in equity or the laws of friendship.’

Yet again James calls for Commissioners when he states that he will do everything that is expected of him in ‘equity’. Elizabeth made one final plea. It would appear to be heartfelt and, as at Berwick in 1586, there is mention of an English crown for James. Her soft approach, however, was very soon followed by an overt yet tactful threat which threatened the peace and amity of the two countries.

‘I beseech you to consider the greatness of my dishonour, and measure his just delivery accordingly. Deal in this case like a King who will have all this realm, and others adjoining. See how justly and kindly you both can and will use a prince of my quality.’

‘If the king of Scotland… keeping the said offenders in his grace and protection… therefore involves himself in their guiltiness, leaving the queen to have her remedy by another nature.’

At about this time Buccleuch and Kerr of Cessford had embarked on particularly vicious inroads into English territory. Buccleuch, with others of Teviotdale, was responsible for thirty seven murders in Tynedale on the English side, though he was quick to point out that he followed legal pursuit in the Hot Trod for crimes committed in his valley.

It is said that Buccleuch’s raid was in reprisal for Thomas Lord Scrope’s massive incursion into Liddesdale when he rounded up the men of the valley and led them naked and in chains back to Carlisle, leaving their women and children naked, homeless and without any means to feed themselves; a backlash, it is said, because of the humiliation he felt over the springing of Kinmont. Elizabeth 1 had given Scrope permission to follow this course when he complained that he could never get any redress for the crimes committed by the Liddesdale clans. They, it seemed, often acted with Buccleuch’s connivance.

Sir Robert Bowes, the English Ambassador, wrote to Burghley and the English should threaten the Scots with war unless Buccleuch’s raids were to cease as the latter’s raid on Tynedale had ‘well nigh defeated the Treaty’ that existed between the two countries.

Buccleuch was finally warded in Berwick in October 1597 much to the satisfaction of Elizabeth. The Kinmont affair, which had raged for over a year, slowly lost its impetus. Thus it was consigned to history. It remains to be verified exactly what Elizabeth meant when she spoke of ‘remedy by another nature.’

Perhaps one day that quandary may be resolved.


I have studied the history of the English and Scottish Border Reivers for many years now. I have visited over 600 Reiver sites in Cumberland and Northumberland, England and the Border counties of Scotland.

In 2007 I published a book about the capture and rescue of Kinmont Willie Armstrong. It is both an account from the primary sources of the time, well documented in the Calendar of Border Papers, coupled with a fictional account of what came to be known as the ‘Kinmont Affair’.

My website, which includes my blog with a link under Border Reivers Stories can be seen at www.reivershistory.co.uk