Tuesday, February 18, 2014

The Hero of the Pie

by Ella March Chase

I confess, I suffer from claustrophobia. Closed up spaces are not my friend. As for the prospect of being encased in a pie—well, I read Titus Andronicus in lit class. Being included as one of the courses in a royal banquet rarely ends well. Maybe that is where my fascination with the eighteen-inch-tall “angelic freak” and cherished member of the Stuart court, Jeffrey Hudson, began.

Famous as The Hero of the Pie, Jeffrey was entombed in a large pastry crust called a ‘coffin pie’ at the command of George Villiers, the notorious duke of Buckingham. Jeffrey’s mission: to pop out of the pie and dazzle a jaded court-- especially the homesick seventeen-year-old French Queen, Henrietta Maria, who had recently wed Charles I.

It sounded like a scene from one of the fairytales I loved as a child. Homesick Henrietta Maria, wed to the king of her country’s great foe. A resolutely Protestant English court that regarded her with suspicion and outright enmity because of her Catholicism.

Her painfully shy, aloof young husband was a younger son who was never supposed to be king. He was ill suited to the task, stammering, where his glittering elder brother had been dashing, socially awkward where the ill-fated Prince Henry was the admired by men like Sir Walter Raleigh.

Charles was delighted with his vivacious, if headstrong and overly emotional wife. Yet, he was in thrall to the one powerful courtier who had bothered to be kind to him while his brother was alive: the ambitious and inept Duke of Buckingham the royal favorite—and probable lover—of Charles’s father, James I. Buckingham was a dangerous rival, and he was determined to keep his Svengali-like hold on Charles and undercut the influence of the queen.

Court seethed with intrigues where a single misstep could mean disaster and even courtiers schooled from the cradle to attend the king and queen walked a perilous path. Into this glittering world of excess and intrigue, Buckingham dropped a lad who had known nothing of life outside his village’s shambles. Not only that but made him the pinnacle of the night’s entertainment. Jeffrey’s performance would make the banquet a success or a dismal failure.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what Jeffrey Hudson must have felt.

He was the son of the Oakham butcher who trained the Duke of Buckingham’s bull baiting dogs. It had to be a brutal and frightening world for an eighteen-inch-tall boy who would look like a tasty morsel to dogs trained to attack. He would not know how to eat with proper court manners or understand any of the complex rules of precedence the courtiers took so seriously. He would not even understand how to manipulate hooks and eyes on his clothing. Whatever he wore would be held closed with pins. Intense lessons in deportment must have exhausted and confused him.

Then, on the night of the banquet, he was dressed in a miniature suit of armor and stuffed into the pre-baked piecrust. The gilded lid of the pie was lowered down over him. As he waited in that stifling darkness, he dared not twitch a muscle, for fear of breaking the crust and ruining the duke’s plans. With a fanfare, the pie was presented to the queen and Buckingham handed her a knife.

Fortunately for Jeffrey, she was so taken aback by this insult she froze. (Queens do not cut their own food!) Before she could sink the knife into the pie—and its secret passenger—Jeffrey burst through the crust and marched up and down the table waving his pennon. Henrietta Maria was so enchanted by Jeffrey that Buckingham made a gift of the tiny, perfectly formed ‘dwarf’.

Once inducted into the queen’s household, Jeffrey joined what was known as The Royal Menagerie of Curiosities and Freaks of Nature, a collection that really existed. There, he would find his best friend, seven-foot-seven-inch Welsh giant and Sergeant Porter of the Queen’s Back Stairs, William Evans. There are still pubs in England named The Dwarf and Giant for this unlikely pair.

Jeffrey became the embattled Henrietta Maria’s favorite ‘pet’ and confidant and would accompany her through countless intrigues and adventures. He performed in Inigo Jones’s masques. He traveled to Paris on a secret mission for the queen. He would be captured by pirates twice, witness the siege of Breda, and fight in skirmishes during the English Civil War.

He would never desert his royal mistress willingly. But as years passed, he grew tired of being the butt of jokes. One day he had enough. When the queen’s Master of Horse, a full sized courtier, insulted Jeffrey, the queen’s dwarf called the man out. He shot the man between the eyes during a duel on horseback.

Since dueling carried a death penalty, the heartbroken queen exiled him to save his life. Now Jeffrey, accustomed to court life, was flung back out into the world beyond palace gates. A world he was as ill-fitted for as he had been court when he popped out of the pie.

The interesting thing about Jeffrey was that he was not, in truth, a dwarf. He was born perfectly formed, with none of the health issues of little people. Jeffrey just failed to grow. During Jeffrey’s lifetime, physicians attributed his tiny size to “a surfeit of gherkins” his mother ate while pregnant.

What he really suffered from a pituitary condition in which his body failed to produce growth hormones. In our modern world, he would have been treated with injections. He would have grown to a nearly normal height. That would have deprived him of one of his forms of traveling through crowded streets, however. Riding in Will Evans’s pocket.

The county of Rutland, in which Jeffrey was born, has the motto ‘Molto en Parvo’. Much in Little. The hero of the pie lived large, lived bravely, and served his queen with devotion. There are many portraits of him, painted by Van Dyck and other famous artists of the time. In my favorite, he stares up at the queen, a monkey on his shoulder. Jeffrey is garbed in the finest satins and laces coin can buy.

I wonder, what is he thinking as he looks up at her? How far he’s travelled from the shambles? How to entertain the queen so she will not send him back there? Is he thinking he is no more to her than the pet monkey or is does he judge himself fortunate to have escaped life in the shambles? It is impossible to know. We know only that when he burst out of the pie, his armor gleaming, his pennon streaming behind him, he enchanted a queen and found himself a home among giants and mages, geniuses and royalty, artists and rogues. He was what he had seemed the night of the banquet. A hero, indeed. The Hero of the Pie.

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

Ella March Chase cannot remember a time she did not want to write historical fiction. She earned her Bachelor of Arts degree from Augustana College, Rock Island, Illinois. She lives in a house filled with books and music and is lovingly herded by a loyal Shetland sheepdog named Oliver. Chase is the author of The Virgin Queen’s Daughter and Three Maids for a Crown, a story of the Grey Sisters. She invites you to visit her at her website: www.ellamarchchase.com

The Queen's Dwarf
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Coming soon: Crown of Mist, Gather the Stars and Angel's Fall by Ella March Chase, writing as Kimberly Cates.


Monday, February 17, 2014

Teamhair na Rí - Tara of the Kings

by Arthur Russell

“Sneer not at the Irishman’s veneration for this spot. The history of its long faded glories is still preserved; the memories of Tara have remained a silver thread in the garment of sackcloth he has worn for centuries”

Quote from ‘Beauties and Antiquities of the Boyne’ by William R Wilde [Oscar’s father]; written during the late 19th century.

Tara is one of the most famous of all of Ireland’s ancient historic sites. Its name has travelled across the world, and can now be found applied to homes and farms built by the Irish Diaspora as they established themselves in their newly adopted countries. (Think of the home of Gerald and Scarlett O’Hara in ‘Gone with the Wind’). The old name is also a favourite name for many girls, and not just those of Irish parentage or descent.

Tara is located on the southern side of the River Boyne near Navan, the capital town of County Meath. It is a low hill that elsewhere might not merit a second glance; but in the middle of a broad plain affords a spectacular view over much of Central Ireland. It was probably this strategic feature of the hill that attracted the early tribes who lived in that part of Ireland, and caused them to establish Tara Hill as a vantage point, from where they could rule the central Kingdom of Meath, (this name derives from the Gaelic for ‘Middle Kingdom’); which covered the vast Central Plain of Ireland as far as the River Shannon. Archaeologists have established that human activity on Tara goes back to the Neolithic era; about five and a half thousand years ago. It is thought that the first human usage of Tara was as a burial site.

A Royal Palace

The island of Ireland had four more locations from where its ancient kings ruled.

- The northern province of Ulster was ruled from Eamhain Mhaca near Armagh.

- The western province of Connacht was ruled from Cruachan, just west of the River Shannon.

- Munster in the southwest was ruled from the huge rocky outcrop on which the royal palace of Cashel and subsequent Ecclesiastical buildings were built.

- Leinster in the Southeast was ruled from another hill on which Dún Ailainne (The Beautiful Fort) was built.

Note – Ireland’s capital city of Dublin was much later founded as a strategic trading port by the sea-faring Vikings in the 9th century AD. It did not assume importance until after the Norman Invasion in 1169, when they made it the capital of the territories occupied by them.

What marked Tara apart from the other 4 royal strongholds was that the ruler of the central Kingship of Meath came to be considered Ard-Rí or High King of all Ireland. As Ard-Rí he could, in theory at least; demand the fealty of the other Provincial kings; provided always that he was strong enough to militarily do so. It was inevitable that the High Kingship became a much disputed title among the ruling families, and many battles were fought over the centuries to defend or challenge the position.

Tara’s history gives it a significance and uniqueness, which many consider still makes it the symbolic capital of Ireland.

“Standing at the top or southern extremity of this remain, and bearing in mind the various prose and bardic histories of the Irish annalists, one cannot help reverting to ancient heroic times, and again, in imagination, peopling it with its early occupants. Here sat in days of yore, kings with golden crowns upon their heads; warriors with brazen swords in their hands; bards and minstrels with their harps; grey bearded ollamhs; druids with their oak leaf crowns”. (William R Wilde)

Notable Ard-Ríthe (High Kings)

Among the 142 holders of the title, over two millenia were two pre-Christian Ard-Ríthe, Cormac Mac Art and Niall of the Nine Hostages.

The former ruled during the fourth century AD, and is considered to have been Tara’s and pre-Christian Ireland’s wisest and most able administrator. He was responsible for introducing many enlightened legal concepts that governed early Irish Society, including some legislating for gender equality that were not accepted in Europe until the 20th century.

The latter (Ard-Rí Niall - the 115th in the line of Tara kings) is widely considered to have been the strongest and most militarily successful Ard-Rí of all. He even led raids on the west coast of post Roman Britain and was responsible for the raid that saw the teenage boy Patrick taken from his home to become a slave tending sheep on an Irish mountainside where Patrick nurtured the vocation that resulted in the ultimate peaceful conversion of the Irish to Christianity during the 5th century.

One story associated with the beginning of Patrick’s Mission, was his first visit to the Ard-Rí’s court at Tara, to defend himself against the charge of breaking an age-old sanction after he had lit the Easter Eve or Paschal fire on the nearby hill of Slane celebrating Easter of 432 AD; which clashed with the Druidic Feast of the Flames which ordained that the Ard-Rí should be the first to light any fire in the land on that night. The legend tells of Patrick’s defence of his action and his explanation of the Divine Trinity (Father, Son and Holy Ghost); when he plucked a shamrock from the grass in front of him and used its trifoliate form to illustrate the three persons of the Trinity.

From this the shamrock emerged as an enduring symbol of Ireland and the Irish.

The reigning Ard-Rí Laoghaire (Niall’s son), was so impressed with the foreigner and his religion, he not only forgave Patrick his ‘fire offence’ of the previous evening on the Hill of Slane, but gave him leave to preach the Christian Gospel throughout his realm. Tara provided an ideal starting point for Patrick’s mission, being the hub from where five major roads radiated throughout Ireland.

The story of Ireland’s rapid Christianisation during Patrick’s lifetime (he died in 461AD) is subject of popular legends.

Niall – Father of the Irish

Ard-Rí Laoghaire lived and died true to the ancient religion of his ancestors, saying that he had to remain true to the religion of his famous father who would not have approved of his conversion to the new faith.

It is of interest to note that genealogical studies broadly agree that many Irish families can now trace their DNA to the charismatic Niall of the Nine Hostages. There was obviously a lot more to the man than his military prowess!

Lia Fáil – The Stone of Destiny

This is located in the centre of the Forrad, the higher of two conjoined earthworks on the hill, which are situated inside The Royal Enclosure. This stone was reputed to shout when the true King laid his hand on it. This derives from the legend of the inauguration of King Conaire when his chariot touched the stone, causing it to screech his name to the assembly. Archaeologists believe Lia Fáil is a fertility symbol and is now a favoured place for engaged and newly married couples to pose for photographs.

Tara Abandoned

Tara fell into disuse in the 9th century arising from a dispute between secular and ecclesiastical authorities which caused the ancient site to be abandoned in favour of a royal site (Uishneach) further west, which was closer to the geographic centre of the Kingdom of Meath.

The old, mainly wooden palatial structures as well as their fortifications, which were made of earthen banks topped with timber palisades; soon disintegrated, leaving only the mounds and banks to indicate where “Tara’s Halls” once stood. All that was left of the once proud royal site was a series of grass covered earthen banks, most of which have survived to this day. These convey some idea of what life was like for the 142 kings who ruled from Tara over two millennia. They include a number of royal enclosures, where it is supposed the royal court presided and the king’s family lived (Cormac’s Seat and the Royal Enclosure).

Near the entrance to the royal site are two long parallel earthen banks that mark the location of the huge Banqueting Hall which features in many stories and legends from the glory days of Tara. Possibly the most significant structure that endures almost intact, is the Mound of the Hostages which contains a short passage tomb, where it is presumed many of those who were sent by their tribes as token of their loyalty to the Ard-Rí; were buried after living as captives for many years of their lives.

Elsewhere on the hill are structures that bear such evocative names as – Grainne’s Rath, Rath of the Synods, Laoghaire’s Rath, Maeve’s Rath, Rath Lugh.


The harp that once through Tara's halls
 
The soul of music shed,
 
Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls
 
As if that soul were fled.
 
So sleeps the pride of former days,
 
So glory's thrill is o'er,
 
And hearts that once beat high for praise,
 
Now feel that pulse no more!

 

No more to chiefs and ladies bright
 
The harp of Tara swells;
 
The chord alone that breaks at night,
 
Its tale of ruin tells.
 
Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes,
 
The only throb she gives 

Is when some heart indignant breaks,
 
To show that still she lives.
 Thomas Moore (1779-1852) 

The Mythical Power of Tara

Despite its abandonment, Tara continued, and still continues to exert a certain power on Ireland and the Irish as “the real mythical capital” based on the wealth of legends and stories for which it provided focus. These include a treasure trove of stories of Fionn MacCumhail and the Fianna (the name of Fionn’s army was adopted by the Nationalist rebel Fenians in the mid 19th century).

Others include the story of Oisín (Oscar) who went with the fairy queen to Tír na nÓg (Land of Youth), dwelling there for 300 years before returning to a much changed Ireland where Christianity had replaced the old religion.

Tara also provided the backdrop to the tragic love-story and elopement of Grainne and Diarmaid (Dermot).

1798

The North Leinster United Irishmen, who sought to establish an all Ireland Republic based on the model being promoted by the French Revolution, chose the ancient hill to make their last stand against Government forces on May 26th 1798. Here four hundred so-called “Croppies” were slaughtered and were buried in mass graves all over the hill. The enigmatic Lia Fail actually serves as a monument to the place where many slain insurgent mortal remains rest.

The 1798 Rebellion is considered by some to be Ireland’s Peasants’ Revolt; as most of the insurgents came from that down-trodden section of the population; though it was led by aristocratic and academic idealists who were inspired by the principles and ideals of the French Revolution.

Peace be round the Croppies grave 
Peace to your souls, ye buried brave 
Tara’s Hill when crowned and free 
Had never nobler guests than thee

Daniel O’Connell and Tara

Less than 50 years after the bloody events of 1798, Daniel O’Connell addressed the largest “Monster Meeting” on the summit of Tara. Here an estimated 750,000 people (The London Times claimed the attendance was closer to 1 million) converged to hear the Liberator speak against the Union of Great Britain and Ireland, which had been established under the Act of Union in 1801.

The issue at that huge Tara gathering on August 15th 1843 was Repeal of the Act that had cost Ireland her own Parliament and its absorption into the United Kingdom Parliament in London governing England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales.

This was designed by its authors to be ‘the Final Solution for the Irish Problem’, but never succeeded in completely addressing, much less solving many of 19th century Ireland’s social and structural problems.

Exploring Tara’s Secrets 

Ongoing archaeological work continues to unravel the secrets of Tara and its historic landscape. Most recent was the discovery of a huge circle of postholes on the eastern side of the hill which suggested that there had been an ancient hengelike structure made not of standing stones with massive rocky lintels – but a larger wooden version of what was later constructed at Stonehenge. While it can never be confirmed, it is presumed, like so many ancient structures in Ireland, Britain and Europe; this structure was aligned to specific movements of the sun during the seasons of the year.

Bibliography 

The Book of Tara by Michael Slevin.
Beauties and Antiquities of the Boyne by William R Wilde.
Pagan Celtic Ireland: The enigma of the Irish Iron Age. By Barry Raftery (1994)
The Kingship and Landscape of Tara by Edel Bhreathnach,
"10 Must-See Endangered Cultural Treasures", The Hill of Tara, Ireland, Where Kings Once Tread by Amanda Bensen (Smithonian Staff - March 2010),

Arthur Russell is author of the historic fiction book ‘Morgallion’ which follows Cormac MacLochlainn and his family; and their adventures during the invasion of Ireland by Edward deBruce and his Scottish army in 1314 AD.

‘Morgallion’ has been recently awarded the indieBRAG Medallion.

More information on www.morgallion.com

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Giveaway: Claiming the Rebel's Heart

Alison Stuart is giving away an ecopy of Claiming the Rebel's Heart to an international winner. You can read about the book HERE. You will be prompted to return to this post to enter the giveaway. Please comment below and leave your contact information.

The Story of Pepys's Buried Treasure

by Deborah Swift

What did you do with your money in the 17th century if you thought looters might be after it? There were no banks of course, so the answer was - to bury it.

After the battle of the Medway in which the Dutch sailed boldly up the Thames and captured the English flagship, the 'Royall Charles', there was a widespread fear amongst Londoners that the Dutch would then take the city. Samuel Pepys, who was (to say the least) careful with his money, became panic-stricken that the Dutch would take his gold, but could not leave the city himself as he was in charge of the Navy treasury. He also feared that the Navy Office might be blamed for this disaster, and that angry Englishmen, let alone the Dutch, might besiege the offices and his house adjoining them.

By the time the news arrived that a second Dutch fleet were on their way, and worse, that English ships were being sunk to prevent the enemy coming further up the Thames, Pepys was desperate. He was determined to save his hard-earned wealth, so he dispatched his father and his wife Elizabeth to the family home in the country. Elizabeth and Mr Pepys senior left London by coach, the gold in bags under the seats, with the orders that they should bury it ringing in their ears.

Brampton House

They chose the vegetable garden at the family home in Brampton, probably in great haste because they feared servants might see them doing it, and they did not want to risk anyone else knowing where it was.

The gold stayed were it was, and in the end the invasion was just a scare, and the Dutch retreated. So a few months later Pepys went back for his treasure. Impatient to see if it was all there, he would not wait until morning but went out by lantern-light to look for it. If you've ever tried digging up something you've hidden, you will know that once the ground has been flattened by rain and weather, it is not easy to remember where the exact spot is. So of course they could not find it:

'But, Lord! what a tosse I was for some time in, that they could not justly tell where it was; that I begun heartily to sweat, and be angry, that they should not agree better upon the place' says Pepys.

Pepys of course blamed Elizabeth, first for not being able to find it, but then when he did, for not burying it deeply enough. Poor woman, she just could not win! 

'But, good God! to see how sillily they did it, not half a foot under ground, and in the sight of the world from a hundred places, if any body by accident were near hand, and within sight of a neighbour's window, and their hearing also, being close by: only my father says that he saw them all gone to church before he begun the work, when he laid the money, but that do not excuse it to me.'

The cloth bags had rotted so that they had to scrabble in the dirt for the individual coins. With the help of Will Hewer they managed to unearth most of it. At which point Pepys would not go to bed until they had sieved and washed every last coin and note.

11th October 
'And then rose and called W. Hewer, and he and I, with pails and a sieve, did lock ourselves into the garden, and there gather all the earth about the place into pails, and then sift those pails in one of the summer-houses, just as they do for dyamonds in other parts of the world; and there, to our great content, did with much trouble by nine o'clock (and by the time we emptied several pails and could not find one), we did make the last night's forty-five up seventy-nine:'

So Pepys did get his gold back after all.

An interesting footnote to the story is that in 1842, when an old wall was removed at Brampton, a hoard of silver coins was discovered, and taken to the Earl of Sandwich, the owner of the house. The iron pot was corroded and fell apart, but the coins were preserved. They were Elizabethan half-crowns and coins of James and Charles I, of the right date to be part of Pepys's treasure. Although Pepys only mentions gold in his diary, such a coincidence is unlikely, and it is probable Elizabeth buried some other silver coins too.

Seventeenth century tokens from Pepys's Small Change

If you have an interest in the sort of coins and tokens used by Pepys, or seventeenth century money and trade, then you will find the following website absolutely fascinating: Pepys's Small Change


Sources: Pepys's Diary Online
You might also enjoy this novel - The Journal of Mrs Pepys - Sara George

All three of my novels are set in the Seventeenth Century, and I rely on Pepys's Diary for his wealth of detail, and his fascinating insights into seventeenth century life.



'The past comes alive through impeccable research, layers of intriguing plotline, and the sheer power of descriptive prose.Add to all this Swift’s rich characterisation and subtle evocation of a period of religious upheaval and you have a classy, compelling adventure story and a true journey of discovery.' Lancashire Evening Post

Saturday, February 15, 2014

The Animals of Cottage and Castle Pigeons, Doves and Squab: for food, sport, communications, and as icon



~~~~~~~~~~~~~
by Katherine Ashe


Common Rock Dove
Pigeons: those annoying fowl who strut about underfoot in most cities have been living cozily with mankind since at least 3,000 BCE, providing food, sport and communications services for most of that time. First, “pigeon” is the common name for what most ornithologists call the “Rock Dove.” The species includes at least a dozen subspecies and these have been multiplied into numerous “races” by mankind’s interests in the creature as food, as messenger, for racing or just for their beauty. Manmade dovecotes dating back 5,000 years have been found in Mesopotamia and Crete, and doves are included in the ritual menu for an Egyptian goddess.

Iron Age Figure of Dove


Dovecotes
The fact is squab, fat baby pigeons, are quite delicious – a delicacy that could be enjoyed as readily by the medieval English cottager as by the king. Humble thatched cottages are often pictured with a structure pierced by large holes tucked under the peak of the gable – that’s a dovecote. On the inside there would be a cabinet door giving access to a set of compartments each with an opening to the outside: pigeon holes. The cottager would merely open the door and take out the plump, fattened squab. Feeding needs would be minimal as the parent birds could forage for themselves, although a scattering of grain would help.

Beehive Dovecote
Dovecotes for the aristocracy were much larger, free standing structures; the wealth of a lordly household might be judged by the magnitude of the dovecote. Square or beehive shaped, made of wood or stone, these arose with gallery upon gallery of pigeonholes accessed on the interior through a well-way and a ladder. Since a squab might serve only one person, grand dinners required a cote that could withstand massive raiding.

To make Squab and Pork Pie circa 1380

10” uncooked pie crust, 1 squab plucked, cleaned and cut in 8 pieces, ½ cup flour seasoned with salt and pepper, 2 tbsp oil (chicken fat would be good), 1 lb lean ground pork, 2 eggs, ¼ cup raisins, 10 prunes minced, 1 tsp light brown sugar, ½ tsp ground ginger, ¾ tsp salt, 3/8 tsp saffron, ½ tsp ground anise, 1 tsp ground fennel, ½ tsp. ground cloves.

Bake pie crust at 425 degrees F for 10 min. and let cool (if in a hearth’s oven, test temp by placing arm in oven. If hair is singed off it’s warm enough.) Dredge squab in flour mixture and brown in oil or fat until golden. Separately, combine remaining ingredients and spread 1/3 of mixture in pie crust. Distribute squab pieces evenly on top. Use remaining mixture to cover squab and fill pie shell. Bake at 375 F for 35 min. (your hearth oven may have cooled down to that if you’ve left it open, but keep a good fire going in the hearth.) Pork must be browned throughout. Serves 4-6. From Richard II’s Book of Feasts, adapted for modern cooking by Lorna S. Sass and published as To The King’s Taste, Metropolitan Museum of Art publication, 1975.


Since ancient times the ability, indeed compulsion of some types of pigeons to return to their homes has been used for conveying messages. The Greeks and Romans used these “carrier pigeons” extensively for fast communication over long distances and impassable terrains. Oddly, there is little mention of the use of pigeon messengers in medieval and Renaissance Europe, though in the Arab world the breeding and use of pigeons remained extensive and by the 12th century there were organized pigeon communications systems for Islam. It’s unlikely that Europeans failed to make similar use of the birds that were certainly in abundance among them.

Pigeons are recorded as used extensively in military operations as recently as World Wars I and II. The method of course is to take the bird away from its home roost, then attach a rolled up message to the bird’s leg or put it into a pocket strapped to the bird’s breast or back, and let the bird loose. Small cameras can be attached to a bird’s breast. The birds will fly hundreds of miles and find their way home in a matter of hours or a day.

No doubt as a consequence of this messenger service, birds have been bred for speed and the sport of pigeon racing is ancient. Average speed over a distance of 500 miles is about 50 miles per hour, but speeds of as much as 90 miles per hour have been recorded, and distances of as much as 1,100 miles. In modern use, the birds can carry computer memory sticks and are far less subject to interception than are electronic communications.

Fantailed Pigeon
There is yet another aspect of the dove: its role in religion. Doves were an acceptable sacrifice in ancient Egypt and Judaea. But most strikingly for European history is the image of the white dove as the third member of the Trinity: as God the Holy Spirit in company with God the Father and God the Son, Jesus. What is it about doves that could prompt this association?

Fancy Pigeon
I’ve raised some very beautiful albino Collared Doves of the kind common to the Middle East so I can write from direct observation of their behavior. The male was the loving and cherishing father who nestled and brooded the eggs all day long and when they hatched it’s he who kept his nestlings warm and fed his own digested food into their open mouths.

As the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins writes, “…the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods with warm breast and with Ah! bright wings.”

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

Katherine Ashe is the author of the Montfort tetralogy.
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Friday, February 14, 2014

Eleanor of Aquitaine on Crusade

by Helena P. Schrader

“I dressed my maids as Amazons and rode bare-breasted halfway to Damascus. Louis had a seizure and I damn near died of windburn, but the troops were dazzled.”

Eleanor of Aquitaine in the 1967 film “A Lion in Winter” starring Peter O’Toole and Katherine Hepburn.


As with most good historical fiction, there is more than a grain of truth to this fictional line from The Lion in Winter. Not only did Eleanor of Aquitaine take part in the Second Crusade, she and her fellow female crusaders were referred to as amazons in her own lifetime, and her participation precipitated a marriage crisis. Here is a summary of what happened.

In 1144, the crusader County of Edessa was overrun by the atabeg of Mosul, Zengi.  The news shocked Western Europe and Pope Eugenius III called for a new crusade. St. Bernard of Clairvaux enthusiastically took up the call, and at the pope’s bidding preached the crusade far and wide, including on Easter Sunday in Vezelay, Burgundy.  Here King Louis VII of France knelt before the abbot and took the cross to the thunderous cheers of his vassals and subjects. When he finished, his queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine, knelt beside him and likewise took the crusdader vow.

Eleanor did so as Duchess of Aquitaine and Countess of Poitou – not as Queen of France. The purpose of her gesture was to muster support among the barons, lords and men who owed her, but not Louis of France, homage.  However, Eleanor’s example inspired many other noblewomen to take the cross as well.  (According to some later accounts, Eleanor and these other ladies mounted on white horses and wearing armor rode among the crowd admonishing men to take the cross. Colorful as the story is, it strikes me as fabricated; there was so reportedly much enthusiasm already that it was hardly necessary and it appears in no contemporary account.)

What is certain is that when King Louis’ crusaders set forth on their crusade, the estimated 100,000 French included an unnamed number of ladies – or “amazons” as some liked to call them – determined to take part in the crusade themselves.  Far from being Eleanor’s “maids,” most of these women were the wives of other high-born crusaders. According to a Greek chronicler writing some fifty years after the event, they rode astride and wore armor.  They were also accompanied by servants and a great deal of baggage.

Depiction of Eleanor of Aquitaine in a German 12th century Manuscript

The first stages of this crusade went remarkably well, with the army making good progress.  Although accounts differ on the extent to which Louis was able to prevent pillaging and abuse of the civilian population along the route, it is clear that the French intention was to pay for provisions and leave the Christian populations in peace. Unfortunately, they were preceded by German crusaders under the Holy Roman Emperor Conrad III that behaved so badly the French found all the cities closed to them, and the price for goods exorbitant.

Nevertheless, they reached Constantinople in comparatively good order, and while the common soldiers encamped outside the walls, the nobles, including Eleanor and her ladies, were introduced to the luxuries and splendors of the fabled Queen of Cities. They were lodged in palaces the like of which they had never seen before, feted and entertained. However, the news that the Byzantine Emperor had just concluded a 12 year truce with the Turks, cast serious doubts upon his reliability.  Furthermore, the Byzantine Emperor tried to make Louis swear to turn any territories his army conquered over to the Greeks. Louis thought he had come to fight the Turks and restore Christian rule – not expand the borders of the Byzantine Empire.  Nevertheless, Louis rejected calls by some of his advisors to capture Constantinople and depose the Greek emperor.  Instead he set out for Jerusalem determined to fulfill his crusading vow – and consult with the King of Jerusalem about further action.

The French crusaders advanced along the southern, coastal route at a leisurely pace until at the end of October they encountered German crusaders fleeing in the opposite direction, who reported that the Turks had all but annihilated the German force and now lay in wait for the French.  A few days later, the French caught up with what was left of the Germans, including Emperor Conrad, who was suffering from a head wound. Together Louis and Conrad’s crusaders followed the Mediterranean coast, finally reaching Ephesus in time for Christmas. Here, however, Conrad decided he was too ill to continue, so he and his nobles took ship back for Constantinople, while what was left of the foot soldiers continued with Louis’s army.

No sooner had the German Emperor departed than adversity struck the French. Torrential rains lasting four days washed away tents, supplies, and many men and horses. After this catastrophe, Louis elected to strike inland across the mountains, despite the absence of guides, in an attempt to reach Antioch as soon as possible.  This route, however, was not only through rugged terrain and along bad roads, but took the French where they were constantly harassed by Turkish raiders. By now, at the latest, the “gayness and the gilt” of Eleanor and her lady-crusaders (or amazons) were “all besmirched with rainy marching in the painful field.”

Disaster, however, did not overtake them until mid-January, when two Poitevin nobles in command of the van took fatal independent action.  They had been ordered to set up camp for the main army at a specific place, and Eleanor was sent with them. (Throughout the crusade, King Louis maintained separation from Eleanor in order not to be tempted to break his vow of chastity during the duration of the crusade.) When the main army reached the designated camp, however, they found it empty. The vanguard of Poitevins with the Queen had decided to move to a more attractive-looking spot down in the valley. The exhausted troops at the main army, including the King with Eleanor’s baggage train, could not possibly catch up, and as darkness fell a large gap had been opened between the two sections of Louis' army. The Turks quickly exploited the situation. They attacked the main force, killing Louis’ horse under him and some 7,000 crusaders before darkness fell, putting an end to the slaughter. Many in the army blamed Eleanor, because it was her vassals who had left the main French army in the lurch.

After this disaster, the French returned to the coast, now determined to continue the crusade by ship. They were without supplies, however, and soon reduced to eating their horses before what was left of Louis’ force finally reached Attalia on January 20, 1148.  Here they discovered it was impossible to find sufficient ships for the whole force at prices King Louis was willing to pay. Plague broke out in the crusader camp, decimating a force already on the brink of starvation. At this junction, King Louis VII (not to be confused with his namesake and future saint, Louis IX) abandoned his troops and took ship with his wife and nobles for Antioch. Abandoned by their king, some 3000 French crusaders are said to have converted to Islam in exchange for their lives.


Louis and Eleanor, meanwhile, arrived in Antioch. Antioch was a magnificent, walled city, which had been one of the richest cities of the Roman Empire. At this time it was inhabited by a mixed population of Greek and Armenian Christians ruled by a Latin Christian elite, headed by Raymond of Poitiers, Eleanor's paternal uncle. The language of the court was Eleanor’s own langue d’oc, and the customs were likewise those of the Languedoc. Within a very short time, Eleanor and her uncle developed such rapport that the king became jealous and then suspicious. The clerical chroniclers are united in condemning Eleanor of forgetting her “royal dignity” – and her marriage vows.

The situation was aggravated by the fact that Raymond of Antioch thought the crusaders had come to restore Christian control over the county of Edessa – and so secure his eastern flank, but Louis thought he had come on pilgrimage to Jerusalem and insisted on continuing to the Holy City, rather than following the Prince of Antioch’s military advice. At this junction, with Louis already jealous of Eleanor’s close relationship (sexual or not) with Prince Raymond, she announced that she – and all her vassals – would remain in Antioch, whether he went to Jerusalem or not. Since her vassals made up the bulk of what was left of the French forces, this was an effective veto. Louis threated to use force to make her come with him as was his right as her husband. Eleanor retorted their marriage was invalid because they were related within the prohibited degrees and demanded an annulment. Louis had her arrested in the middle of the night and carried away from Antioch by force. 

Although Eleanor spent several months in Jerusalem while her husband’s crusade came to its final humiliating disaster outside Damascus, nothing is recorded of her activities.  Her influence on Louis and her role in the crusade was over. Furthermore, despite an attempt to patch up the marriage, after their return to France, the birth of a second daughter there made a divorce a dynastic priority, paving the way for Eleanor to marry Henry of Anjou, the future King Henry II of England.

Eleanor's Tomb at Fontevrault Abbey

There are many biographies of Eleanor. I personally relied on Alison Weir’s Eleanor of Aquitaine: By the Wrath of God, Queen of England, (London, Pimlico, 1999), and Amy Kelly’s Eleanor of Aquitaine and the Four Kings, (Cambridge, Mass, Harvard University Press, 1950). There are innumerous novels about Eleanor. I have not read them all and the ones I did read failed to do her justice, so I’ll refrain from a recommendation.

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Helena Schrader is writing a series of ten novels set in the Age of Chivalry. For more information visit her website: http://tales-of-chivalry.com or watch the video teaser Tales of Chivlary. One of these novels is set in Eleanor’s homeland, Poitou and Aquitaine:
The English Templar
An English knight en route to Cyprus is caught up in the mass arrest of French Templars on the night of Friday October 13, 1307. Tortured until he confesses to crimes he did not commit, he wants only to die, but fate puts him in the hands of two people determined to keep him alive – and resist the injustice of the French King.  A novel of faith, fortitude, and the power of love set against the backdrop of one of the most appalling instances of state terrorism in Western European history.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Giveaway: What She Left Behind by Ellen Marie Wiseman

Ellen is giving away a print copy of What She Left Behind to a US winner.You can read about the book HERE. You will be prompted to return to this page to enter the drawing by commenting. Please be sure to leave your contact information.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

"Togodumnus" and "Cogidubnus" - Two Men or One?

by Mark Patton

Since the Nineteenth Century, English speakers have been accustomed to making the distinction between "history" and "prehistory." The French have an intermediate term, "protohistoire," the English equivalent to which is almost never used. There are good reasons why the French and the English should divide their past up in different ways. French protohistoire covers the period 600-55 BC and, for much of this period, cities on the southern coast of France were part of the literate classical world, whilst the northern half of the country remained essentially prehistoric. In Britain, on the other hand, prehistory endures until the Roman invasion under the Emperor Claudius in 43 AD. There are moments, however, when the British historian might find the French terminology more useful than his or her own.

We know the names of some of the pre-Roman rulers of Britain. Prominent amongst these is Cunobelinus (Shakespeare's Cymbeline), a king of the Catuvellauni tribe who ruled from Camulodunum (Colchester). Cunobelinus died shortly before 43 AD, and he seems to have had at least three legitimate sons.

Coin of Cunobelinus.
Photo: PHGCOM (image is in the Public Domain).

One of these, Adminius, is mentioned by the Roman historian, Suetonius, as having been expelled from Britain following an argument with his father, and having appealed for assistance to the Emperor Gaius (Caligula). A second brother, Togodumnus, is recorded by another historian, Cassius Dio, as having fallen in battle against the Romans during the invasion of 43 AD, leaving only the third brother, Caratacos, to escape to the Welsh hills to continue a guerrilla war against the Romans. An article by J.G.F. Hinds (Hinds 2007, "Aulus Plautius's Campaign in Britain: An Alternative Reading of the Narrative in Cassius Dio," Britannia 38, 93-106), however, has challenged this reading of Cassius Dio's Greek account, suggesting that it is ambiguous as to whether Togodumnus was killed, or merely defeated.

Cassius Dio's account of the military campaign describes battles fought at the crossing points of two rivers, conventionally assumed to have been the Medway and the Thames. The Roman landing point was, according to this view of events, at Richborough in Kent, where a later Roman fort incorporates a monumental triumphal arch. Hinds, however, suggests an alternative reading, according to which the Roman legions landed not at Richborough, but at Chichester Harbour. I have elsewhere discussed the likely significance of Chichester Harbour in the Roman invasion, but I don't go so far as Hinds, suggesting only that one of the four legions might have landed at Chichester to establish a supply route (it seems to me that the triumphal arch at Richborough needs to be explained somehow).

The Roman fort of Richborough in Kent.
Photo: Val Vannet (licensed under CCA).

The Roman historian, Tacitus, tells us that, after the invasion, certain territories were "given to King Cogidubnus, who has remained, down to our day, a most faithful ally." Since an inscription at Chichester mentions him as establishing a temple there some years after the invasion, it has often been assumed that he was the occupant of the nearby palace at Fishbourne, and that he was the heir to a separate British royal line, probably that of Verica (himself descended from Julius Caesar's sometime ally, Commius), who had fled to Rome under pressure from the Catuvellauni. Hinds, however, wonders whether, given the similarities between the two names, Cogidubnus and Togodumnus might actually have been the same person.

Coin of Verica.
Photo: Chaponniere & Hess-Divo (image is in the public domain).

We may never know the truth but, whilst historians are rightly obliged to highlight uncertainties in their work, writers of historical fiction have frequently to come down on one side or the other. Our characters need to do things and say things and, crucially, they have to know who they are, even if their writers may be unsure. In my novel, An Accidental King, I found my own way of squaring the circle of Cogidubnus's identity, a fictional solution that is nonetheless based on personal judgements on the available evidence (I thought it more likely that the main legionary force landed at Richborough rather than Chichester; and that Claudius would have bestowed his patronage on a long-standing ally rather than a defeated enemy). One archaeological discovery, however, could change the picture entirely, and that was a risk that I took knowingly.

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Mark Patton's novels, Undreamed Shores and An Accidental King, are published by Crooked Cat Publications, and can be purchased from Amazon UK or Amazon USA.

Monday, February 10, 2014

LOVE AND HATE IN FEBRUARY, 1567: The Queen of Scots and Darnley's Murder

by Linda Root


PART ONE: 


The Road to Craigmillar (1561-1566)

February of the year 1567 was an intriguing month in the life of Marie Stuart, Queen of Scots in which one love story came to an end and another began, and both of them involved tragic marriages which taken together brought the Queen of Scots to ruin. The details are not just one of history's great romances but also, one of history’s greatest unsolved murder mysteries. Whether it was a true love triangle or a political enterprise set in motion by the queen’s enemies is open to debate, but the outcome indubitably set the queen on the road to Fotheringhay.  Part One sets the stage.

James Hepburn, BOTHWELL
Henry Stuart DARLEY

Marie Stuart, Queen of Scots



The Beginning of the End

The distinguished historian John Guy makes a solid argument in his comprehensive biography My Heart is My Own/ The True Life of Marie Stuart, Queen of Scots, that the queen’s demise was the result of her disastrous second marriage. While the seeds were already planted and the queen was already in a power struggle with her royal cousin Elizabeth Tudor, it was the arrival of Henry Stuart in Scotland that brought the devil to the door of the queen’s bedchamber. He eroded what was best in Marie Stewart's character and exposed the worst of it. Guy is almost being benevolent when he describes Darnley as “a narcissist and a natural conspirator.” And insofar as those two labels fit, he came by it naturally. He inherited a goodly bit of his love for conspiracies and betrayals from both sides of his family. To understand exactly how he ended up on center stage in Marie’s Stuart's tragedy, it is necessary to understand exactly who he was and what claims he had to both the Scottish and the English throne.

Who Was Darnley?

Meet The Grandparents!

The abbreviated family tree of the Tudors, above, begins with Henry VII’s older daughter Margaret who never married the King of Portugal as The Tudors fans may believe, but did marry the King of Scots in 1503. Like most of the Scottish aristocracy, James IV was killed at Flodden Field in 1513, leaving the Queen Dowager Margaret as regent for her an infant son. But she did not remain a widow for long. She had become enthralled with one of the ambitious Douglases, and in 1514 secretly married Archibald Douglas, the new Earl of Angus.

In contracting the second marriage she not only infuriated the Scots, she outraged her brother who by then was England’s King Henry VIII. Under the terms of her marriage contract with James IV, a subsequent marriage ended her entitlement to the regency, which passed to the pro-French Duke of Albany, the dead king's brother.

When Albany arrived from France, Margaret was forced to surrender her sons into his care and retired to Linlithgow, pregnant with Angus’s child. Eventually she followed her brother Harry’s advice and fled to England. Her daughter Margaret Douglas was born in Northumberland at Harbottle Castle which made Lady Margaret a natural born Englishwoman, a matter that became increasingly important after Henry VIII left a will disenfranchising foreigners from succeeding to the throne, and Parliament ratified it in the Act of Succession.

Margaret
Angus


















Margaret’s marriage to Angus was not her last gambit in the marriage game but it certainly was the most tumultuous. He did not follow her into England but reconciled with Albany and stayed in Scotland, secretly taking up with a former lover Jane Stewart and living with his mistress on Queen Margaret Tudor’s money. While Margaret and her brother often argued, her daughter Lady Margaret Douglas was highly favored by King Henry and became a companion of his daughter Princess Mary.

In the meantime, Queen Margaret returned to Scotland and engaged political maneuverings that reconciled her with Angus until she discovered his infidelity and the fact that he had bilked her. When Albany who had been on a diplomatic mission to France returned, Margaret took up with Albany and Angus was on the outs. The exact nature of her relationship with Albany is one of history’s secrets. It was probably a platonic partnership but with Margaret, one never knew.

It did result in Angus being tried for treason and sent to exile.  Thus it became Angus’s turn to receive aid and support from Henry Tudor, and when Margaret brought up the subject of divorce, her brother, who had not yet met Anne Boleyn, was morally outraged. When Angus marched north to seek custody of James, his wife greeted him with canon fire from Holyrood Palace and  Edinburgh Castle.  Angus retreated to rethink his game plan.

Edinburgh Castle

But that did not end it. Ultimately Angus seized control of young King James, an event which left James V with anti-English political sentiments and a deep hatred of his step-father.

By then Margaret had successfully obtained her divorce. She engineered a coup that ousted Albany, and soon thereafter the twelve year old king escaped Angus and assumed personal rule of Scotland with his mother as his principal adviser. She married a third time to Henry Stewart, whom she found every bit the spendthrift and philanderer that Angus had been.

She was at court in Scotland when her son brought home his second French consort, Marie of Guise, after the death of his first wife, Princess Madeleine de Valois. Apparently the two formidable woman had a good relationship. The Dowager Queen Margaret Tudor died in Perthshire in 1541, the year before the birth of her granddaughter Marie Stuart, who became Queen of Scots when less than a week old.

Queen Margaret’s daughter Lady Margaret Douglas remained in England during her mother's Scottish adventures.  She proved to be as difficult to control as her mother had been. However, she was a pretty girl, Henry Tudor’s favorite niece, and easy to forgive.

Darnley’s paternal grandfather John Stewart, Earl of Lennox, was also a character of merit. He had a remote claim to the Scottish throne as a descendant of King James II that made him a natural rival of the Hamilton earls of Arran  who held a slightly superior claim.

He was murdered in 1526 after having been taken captive in the Battle of Linlithgow in which he lead a force seeking to free young King James V from domination by his stepfather Angus. While in custody he was murdered by James Hamilton of Finnart, the Earl of Arran's illegitimate brother. Stewart's widow was a daughter of the powerful Catholic Earl of Atholl. He left two sons, Matthew Stewart, who inherited the Lennox earldom, and John, a naturalized French citizen. John Stuart, Signeur d’Aubigny, was a noted captain in the French Garde Ecosse and a friend of Henri II. Little is know of Darnley's paternal grandmother, even whether she was Atholl's daughter Elizabeth or his daughter Anne.

Meet The Parents!

As stated, Darnley’s parents were Matthew Stewart (Stuart) and Lady Margaret Douglas, Earl and Countess of Lennox, both with royal blood. The preceding material has outlined Margaret’s Douglas’s lineage. Through her mother she was the granddaughter of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York and the half-sister of King James V of Scotland.

It is also noteworthy that she was English born and bred, which made her high in the English succession. As an adolescent she served in the household of Princess Mary, but when Henry married Anne Boleyn, Lady Margaret became one of her ladies in waiting.

However, after Henry had put Anne to death, he was outraged to discover that his favorite niece had become engaged to Anne Boleyn’s uncle Sir Thomas Howard without his permission. He sent them to the Tower where Howard died.

Not long after Howard’s death and her release due to illness, she began an affair with Sir Charles Howard, adolescent Queen Catherine Howard’s brother. Again Henry was furious, but her indiscretion with Charles was less critical now that Henry had an heir in Prince Edward. At the time of her affair with Thomas the king had bastardized his daughters which left Lady Margaret high in the succession. By the time of her liaison with Charles, such was no longer the case. It more an embarrassment than a threat.

Henry VIII was therefore delighted when Margaret  married Mathew Stewart, Earl of Lennox in 1544, a satisfactory match. She was said to be very beautiful in her youth, a fact unfortunately not documented in any confirmed portrait although the one shown below at the right is believed to be either Lady Douglas or Queen Mary I. In spite of the fact that her union with Matthew Stewart  was a political marriage, it evolved into a love match.

John Scots, Possibly Margaret Douglas

The bridegroom Matthew Stewart  was the great-great grandson of James II of Scotland through the female line. His rival James Hamilton, Earl of Arran,  was likewise descended from James II but from the male line. At the birth of the Queen of Scots, Hamilton (Arran) stood second behind her and Lennox-Stewart, a close third.

When James V died of despair after the Scottish defeat at Pinkie in which Stewart had performed credibly in a diversionary action, he asserted his claim to be second behind the infant queen, but in spite of Hamilton’s unpopularity and ineptitude, the Hamilton Earl of Arran prevailed. One of his advantages was the fact that Stewart was not yet married at the time of James V’s death and Arran had sons, important in asserting a potential dynastic claim.

Not long after Stewart’s return from exile and the king’s death in 1542, Stewart sought the hand of the Dowager Marie of Guise, Marie Stuart’s mother, and was a strong champion of the alliance with France. It was after it became apparent that Arran was favored by both the Scots and the French that Matthew Stewart changed his allegiance back to the English, returned south, and married Lady Margaret Douglas.

For supporting Henry VIII and later the Lord Protector Edward Seymour in the wars known as The Rough Wooing, Stewart’s Scottish lands and titles were forfeited. Later, when Marie of Guise was dying, he petitioned Elizabeth to allow him to travel to Scotland to reassert his claim and was ultimately successful.

He left Countess Margaret and their two sons Henry and Charles in England, probably at the insistence of Elizabeth, who liked having insurance. His older son Henry Stuart was known as Lord Darnley, a title historically used by heirs to the earldom, and he is generally known to history by that name. It seems that by this phase, the Lennox-Stuarts  had adopted the French spelling of their surname. Darnley was handsome and athletic,  a common face at Elizabeth Tudor’s court. And Henry was indisputably English, important due to the terms of the Act of Succession, which disqualified foreigners. Perhaps most important of all, he was inordinately tall. The Queen of Scots stood between 5’11 and 6 feet and had spent her youth looking down on the heads of others.  And thus, the ill-fated romance begins.

Margaret Douglas was a very ambitious woman and acutely aware that her son Henry was well placed in the English succession as the great-grandson of the first Tudor king, Henry VII. And recall that through his father, he was also a descendant of James II, with claims to the Scottish crown. His position became more important after the death of Edward VI and Mary I in 1558.

The English queen Elizabeth Tudor was a self-styled maiden, what we would call a spinster, and there were signs that she wished to remain one. She had watched the disaster of her sister’s marriage to a foreign consort who was in the game merely for the crown. While the heirs of Queen Margaret’s younger sister Mary, Duchess of Suffolk were favored in Henry VIII's will and in the Act of Succession , Elizabeth disliked the Grey sisters intensely.

Thus, while Lennox was in Scotland reestablishing himself as a power player there, Lady Douglas was occupied positioning her son. She sent him to France the year of Henri II’s death to pressure the king to urge the Scottish regent to lift the forfeiture, and again in 1560 when Queen Marie's sickly husband King Francois II died. Although the countess had been writing letters to her niece the Queen of Scots highlighting Darnley’s virtues, there is no indication that the young widow was particularly impressed. She had another suitor in mind.

At the time, the Queen of Scots was hoping to wed Don Carlos of Spain. Apparently she was so anxious to secure an advantageous second marriage commensurate with the one that had briefly made her Queen of France that she was willing to marry a suspected homicidal maniac. Although neither of them intended to benefit Marie Stuart by their actions,  Philip II of Spain and Marie Stuart’s mother-in-law Catherine de Medici did her an unanticipated favor when they sabotaged her marriage plan.

With no better alternative in sight, the Queen of Scots returned to Scotland to begin personal rule of the country she had not seen in thirteen years. Neither she, the Scots nor the English expected her to do it alone. Her choice of second husband became an important issue, because it was tacitly understood that once married, her husband would no doubt receive the Crown Matrimonial and be the one who actually ruled the nation. Mary I of England had already demonstrated that the choice of husbands by a regnant queen could have widespread consequences and unforeseen results.


Darnley


Don Carlos






















Meet The Candidates

Robert Dudley, Baron Denbigh

When she first arrived in Scotland in 1561, the queen had not given up on the idea of Don Carlos. She sent her foreign secretary the inimitable William Maitland of Lethington traipsing around the English and European courts seeking to broker it. He no doubt found it difficult to broach the topic with a straight face. Even Marie’s French relatives the Guises were opposed to it and without the queen’s consent were making overtures to the Austrian archduke.

The Queen of Scots was despaired to learn that her cousin Elizabeth Tudor felt she had the power to veto her sister queen’s marriage choice, but the English queen had lived through her older sister’s unpopular and heartbreaking marriage to a Spaniard. She had no plan to tolerate another Spanish consort on a British throne.

At the time that Marie Stuart began shopping for a husband, Elizabeth had only occupied her throne for five years and Elizabeth lived in constant fear of a Spanish invasion to purge England of Protestantism. She surely did not want to see a Spanish fleet in the Firth of Forth so close to the Borders at Berwick and the significantly Catholic English North country. She dangled the English succession under her Scottish cousin’s nose and proposed a candidate of her own.

Elizabeth, for reasons that historians find perplexing, advanced her own favorite Robin Dudley as her candidate. It was well known that Dudley and the queen were too close for comfort, especially for the comfort of Elizabeth’s minister Cecil, who may have been the one to press the nomination in hopes of being rid of Dudley, who by then was Lord Denbigh, and soon to be made Earl of Leicester. While there is no evidence that Dudley had carnal knowledge of the queen, their intimacy and preference for one another was close to scandalous.

After Dudley’s first wife Amy’s suspicious death, Elizabeth was canny enough to see that marrying him herself was impossibility. There is evidence that she planned that the three of them, Marie, Robin and Elizabeth – would share a residence at least a portion of each year. The problem with the English plan was that there were two people who strongly opposed it –Robin Dudley and the Queen of Scots—the prospective bride and bridegroom. When Elizabeth’s proposal was revealed to the Queen of Scots by the wary English Ambassador, instead of raging, she laughed until her side hurt, but only until she realized it was not a joke. Dudley himself wrote to her disclaiming any part in the plan.

By then, with a little help from her aunt Margaret, the Scottish queen had come upon an alternative of her own, the young Englishman Lord Henry Darnley, whom the Queen of England referred to as ‘yon long lad’.  Nearly all of Marie Stuart’s Scottish advisers and most historians would agree that she would have been better off to have married Dudley. But even as a child, Marie Stuart always got her way.

Meet The Real Lord Darnley

The best that can be said for Darnley is that he was tall. Marie Stuart stood close to six feet, and Darnley was the taller. He was also handsome in a somewhat effeminate sort of way, and an excellent dancer. He was polished and spoke several languages. He could be charming when it mattered. It mattered when he wanted something.

There is still a good deal of controversy as to how exactly he ended up in Scotland and whether Elizabeth might have had the gift of Second Sight in allowing him to go. She pretended to be outraged when he left England without permission, but there is good argument that she knew Darnley well enough to guess that he would soon have Scotland in an uproar. And so he did.

He arrived in February of 1565 and when he fell ill in the late spring, the queen was at his bedside spoon feeding him and writing letters to Elizabeth informing her that she had no right of ‘nay-say’ as to who her Scottish cousin married. They were soon inseparable. Marie had always been attracted by the wounded and the needy.  She did not know that what she thought to be measles was probably syphilis.

Darnley's Sycamore, where the queen nursed Darley after he fell ill
shortly after he arrived in Scotland, no doubt to woo her. 

In a few months after his arrival, Darnley had succeeded in alienating practically everyone at court, complaining about the queen’s generosity to her brothers James, Earl of Moray; John, Prior of Coldingham; and Robert and her Four Maries who had attended her since they all were five years old and headed for France.  Soon there was a faction ready to go to war if Marie married him.

But Marie Stuart had a healthy dose of Stewart stubbornness. She did marry Darney and her brothers and their allies prepared for war. The resulting comedy was called the Chase About Raid. Sometimes the rebels under the command of her brother James, Earl of Moray, did the chasing, but often it was the bride and bridegroom chasing after the dissidents. They finally succeeded in forcing most of the queen’s most stalwart supporters including Kirkcaldy of Grange and the Earl of Moray into England. She had allowed her husband's antics to chase away her support group.

 With Moray out of  country and Maitland out of favor, outward appearances were that the queen and Darnley were partners in the enterprise of government, but appearances were deceiving. With the queen’s brother and her most effective advisers in exile, Darnley let his mask slip and began to show his true nature. He was too busy entertaining himself to bother.

The queen soon realized that he was happiest when spending his evenings in alehouses and brothels, and he was not the least discrete about it. If she complained, he pouted or became verbally abusive. Her ladies and those old friends who had remained heard her ask for a knife. When she did not rush to ask Parliament to confer the crown matrimonial upon him, Darnley threw a tantrum and spieled threats that reduced the queen to tears. And she put up with it for he same reason women have endured such treatment throughout human history: the Queen of Scots was pregnant.

But then, in March of 1566, Darnley conspired with the powerful Douglas faction lead by James Douglas, Earl of Morton, to murder her private secretary and confidante David Rizzio in a brutal slaying orchestrated so as to occur in her presence at a private dinner party in her supper room.  Darnley had not been on the guest list. Darnley, who was by then showing signs of tertiary syphilis, was manipulated by the queen’s enemies into believing that he had been cuckolded and that the diminutive artistic Rizzio was likely the father of her unborn child. The manner in which the death was carried out suggested that Darnley and the Douglases were hoping for a miscarriage and perhaps the death of the queen.  There is some evidence that Darnley was bisexual and jealous not of David, but of the queen.


When Darnley showed up uninvited, the queen was polite but confused, but when intruders entered from the private stairs that linked her chambers to the king's and called out for Davie, their intent was clear. One of the assassins, one of the Kers of Faldonside, put a firearm to the queen’s pregnant belly and also threatened to shoot the Earl of Mar when he looked to be mounting a defense.

During most of the fracas, Darnley held Marie by the waist, restrain her  from giving aid to Rizzio. The small man never had a chance.  Although Darnley did not strike the fatal blow, by some accounts the consort's dagger was left in Rizzio's corpse.

The next day, Moray and the Scots who had been exiled in England returned, and they and the assailants celebrated the slaughter  with a dinner at the Earl of Morton's house. Marie took advantage of their absence to convinced Darnley that he would be their next target. She used all of her feminine wiles to coerce him into escaping with her, and with assistance from the earls of Bothwell and Huntly, she was soon back at Holyrood and reconciled with her brother Moray. Morton and the Douglases fled the country, and the queen did nothing to diffuse their feeling that Darnley had betrayed them.

When matters settled, Darnley was out of favor but tolerated because of her pregnancy. The queen moved into a fortified room in Edinburgh Castle where she could spend her laying in without interference from her wayward treacherous husband. She had moved her brother and Moray into the castle and when Scotland's bad boy Bothwell promised to behave himself, she allowed him and his cohort Huntly to join the group living in the castle, awaiting the birth of an heir.

By the time the queen withdrew into her birthing chamber, Darnley was in secret negotiations with Philip of Spain and corresponding with the Vatican, accusing his wife of being a false Catholic. He sent charts of the shoals off the Orkneys and Shetlands to Philip and encouraged an invasion that would put Darnley on the Scottish throne. His activities were no secret to the queen, who had more credit with the European Catholic powers than Darnley had. But no move was made against him.

In June when the queen delivered a healthy son whom she named Charles James Stuart but who was later Christened as James Charles Stuart in appeasement of the Scots, she allowed her husband into the fortified chamber just long enough to get him to admit before witnesses that the child was clearly his. Then she and Darnley traded barbs and he stomped off. She no longer cared where he went or what he did.

Following the birth of her son, the queen remained for the most part estranged from her husband, who again was catering to her in hopes of being granted the Crown Matrimonial. Secretly, or so he thought, he continued conspiring against her. There were brief periods in which the queen and Darnley appeared to be reconciled and rumors that they were sharing a bed.

However, as soon as she was strong enough to travel, she went to Alloa to recover her health and good spirits, and Darnley did not accompany her. He showed up later and made a scene when he saw her dancing.  They went stag hunting together at the Border fortress Traquair House where Darnley was so insulting to the queen that both the laird John Stewart of Traquair and the queen left the dinner table. When they left Traquair, they were no longer speaking.

The queen visited Jedburgh for the Border Assizes, and after the close of the Assizes, she made a controversial side trip to the Hermitage where James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell lay wounded.  It was a rigorous one day's trip of sixty miles, and when she returned to Jedburgh, she fell ill and almost died. Poison was suspected but the likely cause was exhaustion and a bleeding ulcer. News that she had actually died spread about the country.

Darnley arrived after she was on the road to recovery, insulted most of the others present, and promptly left. Although he was titular king, no one paid him much attention. The feeling among her companions was that the queen was exercising restraint because of the prince, whose Christening was forthcoming.

By the time the queen settled at Craigmillar Castle outside Edinburgh to recuperate and finish the plans for her son’s christening the following month, she was suffering more from hatred and despair of Darnley than from any disease or ulcer. Some who knew her well including James Melville, who had been her close friend since they were adolescents in France, feared that she was suicidal. She sent her ladies ahead to Stirling to decorate for the ceremonies, but even the affair that had meant so much to her did not cheer her.

At least, at Craigmillar Castle she was in the company of men she trusted --Maitland of Lethington, her brother James, the earls of Argyll, Huntley and  Bothwell. The latter and his father  had served her mother with unprecedented loyalty when the others had deserted and left her to die. Although he could be exasperating and disobedient, he was fast becoming her obvious favorite.

During Marie Stuart's short stay at Craigmillar,  her trusted little band of advisers conferred on how to rid Scotland of the pestilence called Darnley, and they presented their proposals to the queen. They left Craigmillar committed to solve the queen's marriage problem. Whether they and the queen arrived at a mutual understanding as to the means remains the mystery. There was no mystery that by the time the queen left Craigmillar, Lord James Hepburn, the notorious Earl of Bothwell had become a principal player in the game.

The ruins of Craigmillar © Kim Traynor via Creative Commons,Wikimedia 

  End of Part I

 Part II –From Craigmillar to Carberry, coming  February 28, 2014 (The Craigmillar Bond, the Whittinghame Bond, the Queen's strange trip to Glasgow—the events at Kirk o’Field, the Kidnapping at Foulsmouth Bridge on the Almond  and the Road to Carberry Hill)

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Linda Root is the author of the four books in the Queen of Scots Suite at Amazon and Amazon Kindle. The fifth book, 1603: The Queen's Revenge  is forthcoming later this spring.  She is also the author under the name Linda Fetterly of the Kindle paranormal time slip fantasy, The Green Woman, also coming soon. Explore The Queen of Scots Suite by Linda Root.