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Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Monday, June 22, 2015
Britain's Critical Contribution to the Berlin Airlift
by Helena P. Schrader
It was now that the RAF came up with a solution. One participant put it like this:
Wedemeyer, however, met first with British Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin and carefully outlined in great detail all the difficulties associated with supplying Berlin from the air. His words did not have the desired effect. Bevin listened politely and then responded: “General, I am very disappointed. I never expected to hear the Head of the American Air Force explain that the American Air Force couldn’t do what the Royal Air Force is already doing.” According to Bevin’s private secretary, Sir Frank Roberts, Wedemeyer came out of the meeting “like a Labrador, you know, coming out of a pond” and said: “I suppose that means we’ve got to do it.” And so they did.
In retrospect, however, I think the greatest British contribution was to morale. It was the British who pulled together an Airlift fleet in a matter of just days and weeks, while the USAF scrambled to pull its resources from around the world. In the first full month of the Airlift, the RAF accounted for 42% of the cargoes — or more than twice its proportional size. In August, RAF and British civilians together accounted for 38% of the tonnage flown into Berlin. It was not until September that the British portion of the lift fell to roughly its “natural” proportion of 21 per cent as the C-54 started to replace the USAF’s twin-engined C-47 (DC-3s). Nor should the significance of the return cargoes be underestimated. The contribution to West Berlin’s morale by keeping the factories open, keeping people employed and selling goods abroad labelled “made in blockaded Berlin” is incalculable. It was absolutely critical to maintaining Berlin’s pride and its determination to keep up the fight against oppression.
On June 24, 1948 the Soviet Union abruptly closed all land and water access to the Western Sectors of Berlin. Over two million civilians, dependent on the surrounding territory and the West for food, fuel, and other basic goods, were suddenly cut off from all the necessities of life.
The Western Allies had the option of either withdrawing their garrisons and allowing the Soviet Union to take control of the entire city, or of trying to supply the city by air. Never in history had two million people been supplied exclusively by air before. Furthermore, the survival of the Western Sectors of Berlin depended not just on food supplies but above all coal to fuel the power plants that kept the water and sewage systems, the public transport network and the factories running. None of the senior military commanders of the time believed it could be done.
But the political leadership in London and Washington insisted that it must be done. A withdrawal from Berlin would discredit the West at a crucial moment in history, when the Soviet Union was expanding aggressively into Europe. Worse, it would endanger the political stability and economic recovery of Europe.
So the largest and most ambitious airlift in history was set in motion. It began without the West really knowing how much the Berliners needed in order to survive — much less how much those supplies weighed. It was launched despite an almost complete absence of aircraft and aircrews in Germany, and despite serious inadequacies in airfields and air traffic control. It was launched without airlift expertise in theater or a unified command structure. But once it took wing, it flew and turned into something that not even its originators and advocators had ever imagined or expected.
And all too often today it is remembered as an American victory. Without doubt without American resources the Berlin Airlift could never have succeeded. The U.S. Air Force carried 76.7% of all cargoes flown into Berlin by weight, and 69.4% of all flights. The United States literally threw everything it had into the airlift, stripping all other theaters of transport airport, calling up all reservists with four-engine experience (both in the air and on the ground) and air traffic controllers. The costs were literally incalculable — just trying to figure out what needed to be included was almost impossible without the lost opportunity costs of investing so many resources in a single endeavor. But not only was the RAF very much carrying it’s weight — it was only about one fifth the size of the USAF at this time — the entire airlift might never have happened had it not been for the RAF and Foreign Secretary Bevin.
When the Blockade of Berlin started, the Western Allies appeared to have just two options: retreat, i.e. give up their rights to Berlin and withdraw their garrisons, or fight back by challenging the Soviet blockade with a show of force. The political leadership in both countries refused to even consider backing down. The problem with that was that while President Truman and Prime Minister Attlee might not be willing to consider withdrawal from Berlin, that didn’t keep over two million German civilians from starving to death. So the question was: how to supply the city.
The American Military Governor, General Lucius D. Clay strongly advocated sending a heavily armed convoy up the autobahn to Berlin and started pulling together five to six thousand troops to escort that convoy — including armor and artillery. Clay was not a hothead and did not think he would actually have to fight his way across East Germany, thereby igniting World War III. He supported the plan of an armed convoy because he thought the Russians — when confronted with Western resolve — would back down. The British, however, rejected the plan because they believed Clay’s convoy could be stopped without the resort to war. They thought all the Soviets would need to do was blow up a few bridges or erect manned barricades that forced the Allies to shoot first. Furthermore, the State Department agreed with the British arguing that “the Soviets would just sit up on a hillside and laugh.” Rather than challenging the Soviets in Berlin, the State Department talked about blockading Vladivostok or closing the Panama Canal to Soviet ships.
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| Air Commodore Waite |
It was now that the RAF came up with a solution. One participant put it like this:
We were under duress. Berlin could not wait 6 months for a plan, no one had anything else to suggest apart from Clay’s armored column, and RAF top brass flew the first lot of UK-based transport aircraft to Germany … on a philosophy variously described as ‘the British genius for improvisation’ or ‘Limey muddling through,’ according to one’s level of politeness.
(Bob Needham, “Resisting Aggression without War: Berlin 1948 – 1949,” The Friends Quarterly, April 2001, p. 276.)
But this was seen as a “stop-gap” measure. No one believed West Berlin could be sustained by an airlift indefinitely — except RAF Air Commodore Waite. This unsung hero of the Berlin Airlift sat down in his office and started working out some rough calculations of cargo requirements and priorities, aircraft load-factors and the like. He came up with a detailed proposal, and the next day he asked for just ten minutes with the British Military Governor, General Sir Brian Robertson. Robertson liked the idea enough to share it with U.S. General Clay. According to some accounts Clay was enthusiastic. Washington was not.
Both the Pentagon and the State Department opposed the idea of an airlift — and a war over Berlin. They wanted to start an orderly withdrawal. Since this would have to be conducted in coordination with the Allies (and the French had suggested it from the start), this meant convincing the British to pull-out. General Wedemeyer, Director of Plans and Operations at the Pentagon, was sent to London by General Bradley, the U.S. Army Chief of Staff, to discuss plans for evacuating the Western garrisons from Berlin “gracefully.”
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| Foreign Minister Bevin in Berlin |
Wedemeyer, however, met first with British Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin and carefully outlined in great detail all the difficulties associated with supplying Berlin from the air. His words did not have the desired effect. Bevin listened politely and then responded: “General, I am very disappointed. I never expected to hear the Head of the American Air Force explain that the American Air Force couldn’t do what the Royal Air Force is already doing.” According to Bevin’s private secretary, Sir Frank Roberts, Wedemeyer came out of the meeting “like a Labrador, you know, coming out of a pond” and said: “I suppose that means we’ve got to do it.” And so they did.
In retrospect, however, I think the greatest British contribution was to morale. It was the British who pulled together an Airlift fleet in a matter of just days and weeks, while the USAF scrambled to pull its resources from around the world. In the first full month of the Airlift, the RAF accounted for 42% of the cargoes — or more than twice its proportional size. In August, RAF and British civilians together accounted for 38% of the tonnage flown into Berlin. It was not until September that the British portion of the lift fell to roughly its “natural” proportion of 21 per cent as the C-54 started to replace the USAF’s twin-engined C-47 (DC-3s). Nor should the significance of the return cargoes be underestimated. The contribution to West Berlin’s morale by keeping the factories open, keeping people employed and selling goods abroad labelled “made in blockaded Berlin” is incalculable. It was absolutely critical to maintaining Berlin’s pride and its determination to keep up the fight against oppression.
Sunday, June 21, 2015
June 16th 1815 The Battle of Quatre Bras
by Richard Denning
A few days ago - The 16th June was the anniversary of the Battle of Quatre Bras. Never heard of it? Well if I mention a more famous battle that happened 2 days later - The Battle of Waterloo - you maybe now understand the campaign that I am talking about.
Waterloo was the climatic battle in the wars that started shortly after the French revolution and ran through the 1790s on as far as 1815. From around 1796 onwards they became increasing focused around the ambition of one man: Napoleon Bonaparte. Napoleon had led a series of Campaigns across Europe and at one point ruled lands from Portugal to Moscow. But of course the disaster of the Russian Invasion in 1812, the unified resistance by Austria, Russia, Prussia as well as the thorn in Napoleon's side Wellington and his campaigns in Spain led to the Emperor's defeat in 1814. He was sent to Elba in exile.
In 1815 he was back from exile and galvanised the French nation once more under his leadership. The Allies knew they had to do something to prevent Europe being plunged into yet more years of warfare and so began to gather in the Low countries and along the Rhine ready to invade France. This process would take weeks - especially for the more distant Russians to arrive.
Napoleon's Plan
Napoleon refused to wait for that invasion. In June 1815 he assembled an army of 100,000 veterans of his wars on the Belgium Border at the city of Charleroi and attacked. He had spotted a flaw in the allied deployment. Wellington's Anglo Dutch Army was arranged in the west of Belgium - west of the Charleroi to Brussels road. Blucher's Prussians (Wellington's ally) had his army to the east of that line. Napoleon realised that if he attacked right down that road on the line that divided the allies he could cause chaos and confusion. Then he would try and destroy the Prussian army whilst keeping the British at bay. Once Blucher was running for Germany he would turn on Wellington.
So on the 15th June Napoleon attacked up the high road. He took the bulk of the French Army with him towards Ligny where the Prussians were gathering. He sent Marshall Ney to Quatre Bras with orders to capture the poorly defended cross roads, hold off any British counter attack and send the bulk of his force along the road to Ligny to fall upon the flank of the Prussians and crush them. If everything went well Blucher's Prussians would be destroyed before Wellington could react. That night Wellington was indeed distracted. He had been invited, along with the bulk of the officers, to a ball in Brussels.
That meant that at the very moment when Napoleon was marching up the road from Charleroi the British were caught entirely off guard. When news reached the ball Wellington was already 18 hours behind the pace of the campaign. He at once sent his officers to gather the men and march on Quatre Bras.
The Battle
At the beginning of the battle Marshall Ney had 18,000 men and 32 guns with 2000 cavalry and faced only 8,000 infantry and 16 guns. These allied troops were Dutch regiments, and although they fought well they were forced back towards the cross roads. Fresh British troops started to arrive two hours later as well as Wellington himself who then took command. As the day went on more and more British and allied divisions arrived until at the end of the battle; around 9 pm, Wellington with 24,000 men had a numerical superiority over Ney.
In those 6 hours the battle swung back and forth. The French launched a series of attacks, some of which reached the cross roads only to be forced back by a new allied division arriving and counter attacking. One famous moment was the arrival of the Duke of Brunswick and his black uniformed cavalry complete with death's head symbols on their shakos. Their charge repelled the French once again but at the cost of the Duke's life. Another incident of note was when the Prince of Orange (a young Dutch prince with no battle experience) ordered the British to advance in line even though there were hordes of French cavalry around who promptly charged the British and slaughtered two battalions.
Battle of Ligny
Whilst the battle was raging at Quatre Bras Napoleon had the upper hand at the nearby battle of Ligny. All he needed to complete victory was for Ney to break through at Quatre Bras and send him more troops onto the Prussian Flank. Napoleon even summoned a reserve Army corps under D'erlon to leave Quatre Bras and join him, but just as it was arriving at Ligny Ney ordered it back to Quatre Bras.
So the French missed the opportunity to use D'erlon at either battlefield as it spent most of the day marching around the Belgium country side. Wellington too was unable to help out at Ligny. Blucher had to face Napoleon alone. The French beat the Prussians at Ligny and forced them to retreat, but they had not crushed them. Never the less because the Prussian's were retreating Wellington was obliged to follow suit and spent the 17th June moving his army back northwards. However because the Prussians were able to retreat in good order, Blucher would be able to bring three Army Corps to help Wellington 2 days later at Waterloo.
So who won at Quatres Bras?
In truth both sides claimed a victory and both sides had lost about 5000 men. Ney should have broken through early in the battle, and Wellington was brilliant in defence and held him off but was unable to help Blucher himself. So it was a really a draw. Quatres Bras and Ligny left unfinished business that would only be resolved 2 days later at a battlefield just south of a small town called Waterloo.
One of my areas of interest is the Napoleonic wars. My historical fiction is set at other times, (The Saxon Period and the 17th century), but I find this period fascinating, and I have visited all the battlefield of the Hundred Days Campaign and recommend them. Waterloo in particular is ideal for tourists, but armed with a map and guide you can find much at Quatres Bras of interest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Richard Denning is a historical fiction author whose main period of interest is the Early Anglo-Saxon Era. His Northern Crown series explores the late 6th and early 7th centuries through the eyes of a young Saxon lord.
Explore the darkest years of the dark ages with Cerdic.
www.richarddenning.co.uk
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| French Lancers charge the Scots at Quatres Bras |
A few days ago - The 16th June was the anniversary of the Battle of Quatre Bras. Never heard of it? Well if I mention a more famous battle that happened 2 days later - The Battle of Waterloo - you maybe now understand the campaign that I am talking about.
Waterloo was the climatic battle in the wars that started shortly after the French revolution and ran through the 1790s on as far as 1815. From around 1796 onwards they became increasing focused around the ambition of one man: Napoleon Bonaparte. Napoleon had led a series of Campaigns across Europe and at one point ruled lands from Portugal to Moscow. But of course the disaster of the Russian Invasion in 1812, the unified resistance by Austria, Russia, Prussia as well as the thorn in Napoleon's side Wellington and his campaigns in Spain led to the Emperor's defeat in 1814. He was sent to Elba in exile.
 |
| A master piece. Napoleon's grand stategy was an echo of his brilliance that won at Austerlitz ten years before. |
In 1815 he was back from exile and galvanised the French nation once more under his leadership. The Allies knew they had to do something to prevent Europe being plunged into yet more years of warfare and so began to gather in the Low countries and along the Rhine ready to invade France. This process would take weeks - especially for the more distant Russians to arrive.
Napoleon's Plan
Napoleon refused to wait for that invasion. In June 1815 he assembled an army of 100,000 veterans of his wars on the Belgium Border at the city of Charleroi and attacked. He had spotted a flaw in the allied deployment. Wellington's Anglo Dutch Army was arranged in the west of Belgium - west of the Charleroi to Brussels road. Blucher's Prussians (Wellington's ally) had his army to the east of that line. Napoleon realised that if he attacked right down that road on the line that divided the allies he could cause chaos and confusion. Then he would try and destroy the Prussian army whilst keeping the British at bay. Once Blucher was running for Germany he would turn on Wellington.
So on the 15th June Napoleon attacked up the high road. He took the bulk of the French Army with him towards Ligny where the Prussians were gathering. He sent Marshall Ney to Quatre Bras with orders to capture the poorly defended cross roads, hold off any British counter attack and send the bulk of his force along the road to Ligny to fall upon the flank of the Prussians and crush them. If everything went well Blucher's Prussians would be destroyed before Wellington could react. That night Wellington was indeed distracted. He had been invited, along with the bulk of the officers, to a ball in Brussels.
That meant that at the very moment when Napoleon was marching up the road from Charleroi the British were caught entirely off guard. When news reached the ball Wellington was already 18 hours behind the pace of the campaign. He at once sent his officers to gather the men and march on Quatre Bras.
 |
| Accompanied by much hysterics and swooning the news arrives that Napoleon has invaded Belgium |
The Battle
At the beginning of the battle Marshall Ney had 18,000 men and 32 guns with 2000 cavalry and faced only 8,000 infantry and 16 guns. These allied troops were Dutch regiments, and although they fought well they were forced back towards the cross roads. Fresh British troops started to arrive two hours later as well as Wellington himself who then took command. As the day went on more and more British and allied divisions arrived until at the end of the battle; around 9 pm, Wellington with 24,000 men had a numerical superiority over Ney.
In those 6 hours the battle swung back and forth. The French launched a series of attacks, some of which reached the cross roads only to be forced back by a new allied division arriving and counter attacking. One famous moment was the arrival of the Duke of Brunswick and his black uniformed cavalry complete with death's head symbols on their shakos. Their charge repelled the French once again but at the cost of the Duke's life. Another incident of note was when the Prince of Orange (a young Dutch prince with no battle experience) ordered the British to advance in line even though there were hordes of French cavalry around who promptly charged the British and slaughtered two battalions.
Battle of Ligny
Whilst the battle was raging at Quatre Bras Napoleon had the upper hand at the nearby battle of Ligny. All he needed to complete victory was for Ney to break through at Quatre Bras and send him more troops onto the Prussian Flank. Napoleon even summoned a reserve Army corps under D'erlon to leave Quatre Bras and join him, but just as it was arriving at Ligny Ney ordered it back to Quatre Bras.
So the French missed the opportunity to use D'erlon at either battlefield as it spent most of the day marching around the Belgium country side. Wellington too was unable to help out at Ligny. Blucher had to face Napoleon alone. The French beat the Prussians at Ligny and forced them to retreat, but they had not crushed them. Never the less because the Prussian's were retreating Wellington was obliged to follow suit and spent the 17th June moving his army back northwards. However because the Prussians were able to retreat in good order, Blucher would be able to bring three Army Corps to help Wellington 2 days later at Waterloo.
So who won at Quatres Bras?
In truth both sides claimed a victory and both sides had lost about 5000 men. Ney should have broken through early in the battle, and Wellington was brilliant in defence and held him off but was unable to help Blucher himself. So it was a really a draw. Quatres Bras and Ligny left unfinished business that would only be resolved 2 days later at a battlefield just south of a small town called Waterloo.
One of my areas of interest is the Napoleonic wars. My historical fiction is set at other times, (The Saxon Period and the 17th century), but I find this period fascinating, and I have visited all the battlefield of the Hundred Days Campaign and recommend them. Waterloo in particular is ideal for tourists, but armed with a map and guide you can find much at Quatres Bras of interest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Richard Denning is a historical fiction author whose main period of interest is the Early Anglo-Saxon Era. His Northern Crown series explores the late 6th and early 7th centuries through the eyes of a young Saxon lord.
Explore the darkest years of the dark ages with Cerdic.
www.richarddenning.co.uk
Saturday, June 20, 2015
WHAT'S IN A NAME? - What do Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst, William Kirkcaldy of Grange, and Robert Carr have in Common?
by Linda Root
SIR ANDREW KER OF FERNIEHIRST~ The First Lord Jedburgh
Sir Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst was the oldest child of the Marion Border Reiver Sir Thomas Ker of Ferniehirst, who was one of the few Scots who never betrayed either the Queen of Scots or her mother, James V's consort Queen Marie of Guise.
Andrew Ker was knighted at least once, and probably twice, once by King James when Ker was an adult at the same time his son was dubbed Andrew Ker of Oxnam, but also as a young child during the reign of the Queen of Scots. There is a story suggesting the Queen of Scots knighted him herself when he was wee.
A second version suggests he was one of the several knights James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell, was entitled to create upon his investiture as Duke of Orkney on the eve of his marriage to the Queen of Scots in May 1567. His claims to a youthful knighthood are supported by letters the Queen wrote to his father Tommy early in her English confinement in which she asks to be remembered to ‘Sir Andrew.’
When the castle fell under an English artillery, the leading Marians and their important papers were seized by Sir William Drury, commander of the English force. Drury’s humane treatment of his prisoners and the lenient terms he had discussed with Kirkcaldy added to Morton’s vindictiveness. While Kirkcaldy understood the surrender was unconditional as to him and Maitland, who was already dying, he and Drury had a gentleman’s agreement that their lives would be spared. Just as he and Moray had done when Marie Stuart surrendered to Kirkcaldy at Carberry, Morton again changed the rules. He whined to Elizabeth and demanded control of the Castle and the Marians. When the Knight of Grange was hanged at the Mercat Cross in Edinburgh on a sunny August 3, 1573, Maitland had already perished, some say ‘in the manner of Socrates.' The records of the Kirkcaldys and Kers were never seen again.
THE WILLIAM KIRKCALDIES
Although reports do not agree, as shown below, by the time of his surrender, the Knight of Grange’s only child, his daughter Janet Kirkcaldy was already dead, leaving Kirkcaldy without a direct heir. His younger brother James Kirkcaldy was also hanged that day, but unlike his brother, he left a surviving son. The lad was named William in honor of his famous uncle.
Not all of the Kirkcaldy properties were forfeited, which may have something to do with the fact that James Kirkcaldy’s widow, the heiress Helen Leslie, who had betrayed him, had become Morton’s latest mistress. The knight’s nephew, William Kirkcaldy was the logical heir to the Kirkcaldy titles and estates in Fifeshire in the event they were restored. Nephew Willie, however, is not the William Kirkcaldy of Grange mentioned in the title of the story.
At this point, History becomes another of Morton’s victims. Gone is the documentation of Sir Andrew Ker's birth, investiture, and records of the Ker-Kirkcaldy marriage or the dates of birth and baptismal records of Andrew Ker and his several siblings. One genealogy I have seen shows Janet Kirkcaldy giving birth to Andrew when she was approximately four. Others are authored by historians who did not realize aristocratic Scottish women maintained their family surname and confused Janet with her grandmother and her aunt. Some sources had her dying in Scotland in Roxburghshire in 1569, but recent research points to a date and place of death as London in 1572. Overall, my research finds the latter far more credible. She may have gone there on a mission to rescue the Countess of Westmoreland’s daughters who were living in Kent under deplorable conditions. We simply have no way of knowing.
Most, but not all, competent sources suggest she, not Janet Scott, was the Lady Ferniehirst who provided refuge to the Countesses of Westmoreland and Northumberland after the Northern Rebellion in 1569 failed. There is no record of Tommy Kerr’s family being in the castle when it fell, although there is a reference to nine young boys being among the prisoners slated for release. On at least two occasions during the siege, the women and children of Edinburgh including those within the Castle were given amnesty and safe passage out of the city. Also, for men as resourceful as Kirkcaldy and his brother James, getting in and out had never been a problem. We do not know when, but it seems likely that Lady Ferniehirst and her children had exited the castle at least by the autumn of 1572. Andrew Ker’s father Thomas, the Laird of Ferniehirst, was imprisoned briefly in Blackness Castle after the castle fell, but like most of the Marian Castilians, he was soon released into exile. Morton was no fool. He realized a wholesale slaughter of Scots by Scots would be disastrous to his Regency.
Of one thing we are certain: by 1575, Tommy Ker of Ferniehirst had remarried. His second wife was also named Janet—Janet Scott. She was a daughter of the Ferniehirst Kers’ traditional enemy, the powerful laird of Braxtome-Buccleugh. She was an affectionate and capable step-parent to her husband Tommy’s children, including his sons Andrew and William. She also is credited with opening a communication between the young King and his imprisoned mother and was one of the most influential women at the Court of James VI.
At this point in the story, one part of the riddle of the names is ripe for solution. First, Sir Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst and his younger brother William Kirkcaldy of Grange were brothers of the whole blood. We do not know who instigated it, but as more and more leniency was extended to the surviving Castilians, someone in the family noticed that Kirkcaldy’s heir presumptive was lateral rather than direct. At that point, William Ker changed his name and became William Kirkcaldy of Grange. One would attribute the change to family pride, but for the fact his wife and his children never adopted it. It seems the name change was in anticipation of an inheritance. While Tommy Ker’s son William took the name Kirkcaldy, his wife and children retained the name Ker. Perhaps the King’s ratification of the other William Kirkcaldy as the Kirkcaldy heir had something to do with it. Aristocratic Scots had a history of hedging their bets.
And Along Came Rabbie:
In the late 1570’s Tommy Ker and Janet Scott began a second family. The youngest, born in 1587, was named Robert (Robin, Rabbie) and was, therefore, a brother of both of Janet Kirkcaldy’s sons Andrew and William by the half-blood. By the time of Robert’s birth, Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst was about 25 years old, with a son of his own, Sir Andrew Ker of Oxnam, Master of Jedburgh. You would expect history to know his youngest brother as Robert Ker, or even Robby Kerr, but you’d be wrong.
At some point in his adolescence, he changed his name from Ker to Kerr to Carr, endeavoring to sound more English. History knows him best as Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset, the sweet-faced scheming sycophant who may or may not have been the King’s lover. He certainly was the King’s favorite until he ended up marrying Francis Howard, Countess of Essex. The nefarious Lady Frances cuckolded her husband Essex, Lord Robert Devereux, a man so wrapped up in fighting foreign wars he probably never saw his wife's betrayal coming.
James did not grieve the loss of his favorite’s affections. He had already moved on to Buckingham. The baby brother of Sir Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst spent much of his young adulthood living in the Tower, charged with aiding and abetting his wife in the murder of his best friend.
CONCLUSION: And thus, in answer to the question in the caption, Andrew Ker, William Kirkcaldy, and Robin Carr were brothers. All three were Ferniehirst Kers who either maintained or altered theirs names to suit the times and their individual aspirations.None of them was as loyal to his sovereign as Sir Thomas Ker of Ferniehirst had been.
For a final bit of irony, although he did not get what he wanted by changing his name from Ker to Kirkcaldy, William Kirkcaldy’s son Alexander Ker succeeded Sir Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst( shown below with his wife Anne Stewart of Ochiltree), to become the 2nd Lord Jedburgh when Sir Andrew died and his son Oxnam predeceased him. The many plots for novels suggested in the histories of the three sons of Tommy Ker of Ferniehirst are mind-boggling.
I could not resist including the portrait of Sir Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst and his wife, above. What better way to illustrate the changes in the political climate of the Borders when James Stuart succeeded Elizabeth? Andrew Kerr spent much of his youth as a reiver, following in the footsteps of his father, Sir Thomas Ker of Ferniehirst. However, following the pacification of Borders formalized in 1605, he seems to have morphed into a dandy whose wife kept a monkey for a pet. It taxes the imagination to envision the notorious warlord riding off to relieve his neighbors of their cattle, sheep, and horses, and at times, their wives, sporting the hair-do in the painting.
Authors Note: While the post was writen based on research for my four novels in the Legacy of the Queen of Scots series, much of the research in my current works comes from The Scottish MiddleMarch 1573-1625: Power. Kinship. Allegiance, by Anna Groundwater, and of course, MacDonald Fraser's hallmark book, Steel Bonnets. Linda Root.
Amazon
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| "Ferniehirst Castle - geograph.org.uk - 1990586" by Walter Baxter. Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons - |
SIR ANDREW KER OF FERNIEHIRST~ The First Lord Jedburgh
Sir Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst was the oldest child of the Marion Border Reiver Sir Thomas Ker of Ferniehirst, who was one of the few Scots who never betrayed either the Queen of Scots or her mother, James V's consort Queen Marie of Guise.
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| Sir Thomas Ker of Ferniehirst Wikimedia |
A second version suggests he was one of the several knights James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell, was entitled to create upon his investiture as Duke of Orkney on the eve of his marriage to the Queen of Scots in May 1567. His claims to a youthful knighthood are supported by letters the Queen wrote to his father Tommy early in her English confinement in which she asks to be remembered to ‘Sir Andrew.’
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| Janet Kirkcaldy, Wikimedia |
He was the son of Sir Thomas by his first wife, Lady Janet Kirkcaldy. Janet was the only legitimate child of Sir William Kirkcaldy, the colorful Knight of Grange, a fact I have thrown in as a clue for anyone teased into answering the question presented in the title of this post.
There is no record of Andrew’s date of birth and for good reason. The family records of the Kers of Ferniehirst had been deliberately destroyed. From 1570-1573, Sir William Kirkcaldy, the controversial Knight of Grange, held Edinburgh Castle for the Queen of Scots. It was the last Marian stronghold to fall. Its surrender marked the end of the Scottish Civil War, sometimes also called The Douglas Wars, in dubious honor of James Douglas, the Fourth Earl of Morton.
Morton is the person who is believed to be the one who ordered the destruction of the records of the leading Marians, Kirkcaldy, Maitland, and Ferniehirst. He considered Kirkcaldy the titular leader, Maitland the brains and Tommy Ker the muscle of the Marian resistance. Perhaps he thought erasing their family documents would remove them from the history of the turbulent years after the flight of the Queen. There may be another reason for the degree of his angst toward Kirkcaldy and Maitland although it does not apply to Ferniehirst. The former two had fought at Carberry Hill and Langside against the Queen. In the vernacular, they were turncoats.
Many histories assert The Queen of Scots fled into the Spider Web spun by her cousin Elizabeth after her defeat at the Battle of Langside in 1568. However, I find it impossible to regard Langside as a defeat in the common usage of the word. It was not a case of one armed force defeating another. While the Queen's defeat was the ultimate result, it was not a decisive military victory as much as a psychological one.
On the march to Langside in command of a superior force, the Queen’s mood was almost manic. When the ineptitude of her commanders pitted against the skill of the opposing generals tipped the scale in favor of the Regent, Marie Stuart surrendered to a bout of nerves. Had she exercised the least bit of patience, listened to her advisors, and retreated to Paisley to await reinforcements from her Northern Catholic earls, the outcome may have been different. Instead, she panicked. Her behavior suggests she had been traumatized by her imprisonment and miscarriage at Loch Leven and could not face the prospect of a repeat.
But that is another story.
Much of the Queen's irrational behavior may have been provoked by the brilliant military strategy of the Knight of Grange. Kirkcaldy introduced new tactics into the combat similar to those which two hundred years later changed the tide of battle in the American Revolution. We call it urban combat or guerrilla warfare. In any case, at Langside as at Carberry Hill the year before, both Maitland and Kirkcaldy supported the Regent’s cause. Five years later, after both of them joined the Marians, Morton discovered how essential they had been. Of the three principal holdouts in the Castle when it fell five years later, only Sir Thomas Ker of Ferniehirst had been faithful to the Queen from the beginning.
The Moray-Maitland-Morton triumvirate that drove the Regency after the flight of the Queen lasted less than two years. Maitland had never favored the absolute abdication of the Queen. He was promoting her arranged marriage to the Duke of Norfolk, a solution that would have advanced his steadfast dream of Union.
Kirkcaldy was smoldering in shame because he felt his honor had been perverted in the manner in which the Queen had been treated after her surrender to him in 1567. The only thing keeping him in the Regent’s camp was his friendship with the Regent, James Stewart, Earl of Moray, the Queen's treacherous brother. When Moray was assassinated in 1570, Kirkcaldy was the Chief Mourner at a funeral personally preached by his erstwhile friend, John Knox. However, the knight felt no loyalty to Moray’s successors.
After an abortive attempt by the King’s Party to trap Maitland and try him for treason, Kirkcaldy had had enough. He had always considered the new Regent, Matthew Stuart, Earl of Lennox, the young King’s grandfather, a bit of a buffoon. Soon the banner of the Queen of Scots was flying from the battlements of Edinburgh Castle, and its governor began preparing for the event Scottish history calls the Lang Siege.
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| James Douglas- 4th Earl of Morton-Wikimedia |
Many histories assert The Queen of Scots fled into the Spider Web spun by her cousin Elizabeth after her defeat at the Battle of Langside in 1568. However, I find it impossible to regard Langside as a defeat in the common usage of the word. It was not a case of one armed force defeating another. While the Queen's defeat was the ultimate result, it was not a decisive military victory as much as a psychological one.
On the march to Langside in command of a superior force, the Queen’s mood was almost manic. When the ineptitude of her commanders pitted against the skill of the opposing generals tipped the scale in favor of the Regent, Marie Stuart surrendered to a bout of nerves. Had she exercised the least bit of patience, listened to her advisors, and retreated to Paisley to await reinforcements from her Northern Catholic earls, the outcome may have been different. Instead, she panicked. Her behavior suggests she had been traumatized by her imprisonment and miscarriage at Loch Leven and could not face the prospect of a repeat.
But that is another story.
The Moray-Maitland-Morton triumvirate that drove the Regency after the flight of the Queen lasted less than two years. Maitland had never favored the absolute abdication of the Queen. He was promoting her arranged marriage to the Duke of Norfolk, a solution that would have advanced his steadfast dream of Union.
Kirkcaldy was smoldering in shame because he felt his honor had been perverted in the manner in which the Queen had been treated after her surrender to him in 1567. The only thing keeping him in the Regent’s camp was his friendship with the Regent, James Stewart, Earl of Moray, the Queen's treacherous brother. When Moray was assassinated in 1570, Kirkcaldy was the Chief Mourner at a funeral personally preached by his erstwhile friend, John Knox. However, the knight felt no loyalty to Moray’s successors.
After an abortive attempt by the King’s Party to trap Maitland and try him for treason, Kirkcaldy had had enough. He had always considered the new Regent, Matthew Stuart, Earl of Lennox, the young King’s grandfather, a bit of a buffoon. Soon the banner of the Queen of Scots was flying from the battlements of Edinburgh Castle, and its governor began preparing for the event Scottish history calls the Lang Siege.
As the battle lines were drawn, Kirkcaldy released the men he had taken captive at Langside, but most remained within the castle to fight on the side of the Marians. By the time the siege began in earnest, Maitland and his wife and brother John Maitland (later, Lord Thirlestane) had joined Kirkcaldy and his family. Soon Kirkcaldy’s daughter Janet and her husband Tommy Ker of Ferniehirst and their several children joined the group called the Castilians. The Kers' Border stronghold had been sacked after Lord and Lady Ferniehirst gave sanctuary to Elizabeth Tudor’s rebellious Earls, Northumberland and Westmoreland and their wives, and helped the Westmorelands and the Countess of Northumberland escape to the Continent.
Although the Regent, Lennox, was the figurehead of the King's Party, his leadership abilities were scant. His position as the infant James VI’s grandfather gave his Regency legitimacy, but even Elizabeth Tudor dealt with Morton when she wanted something done.
Then the Castilians launched a raid on Stirling that might have worked had Kirkcaldy been in command, but his compatriots insisted he stay in the Castle where he would be safe. There was no continuity in the leadership of the raid. The strike was nearly a rout until the Hamiltons and Thomas Ker let their lust for spoils take over. In the battle, the Regent Lennox left the safety of the Castle and was killed, some say by not so friendly ‘friendly fire.’ Morton, who had been captured at one point in the affair, slipped his captors and changed the tide of battle, using Lennox’s death as an impetus. The Marian raiders fled to Edinburgh Castle to face Kirkcaldy’s wrath. More importantly, public sympathies shifted to the King’s Party. When the Regency passed to James Douglas, Earl of Morton in the autumn of 1572 the fate of the Castilians was sealed. Morton wasted no effort in convincing a reluctant Elizabeth to send her siege guns.
Although the Regent, Lennox, was the figurehead of the King's Party, his leadership abilities were scant. His position as the infant James VI’s grandfather gave his Regency legitimacy, but even Elizabeth Tudor dealt with Morton when she wanted something done.
Then the Castilians launched a raid on Stirling that might have worked had Kirkcaldy been in command, but his compatriots insisted he stay in the Castle where he would be safe. There was no continuity in the leadership of the raid. The strike was nearly a rout until the Hamiltons and Thomas Ker let their lust for spoils take over. In the battle, the Regent Lennox left the safety of the Castle and was killed, some say by not so friendly ‘friendly fire.’ Morton, who had been captured at one point in the affair, slipped his captors and changed the tide of battle, using Lennox’s death as an impetus. The Marian raiders fled to Edinburgh Castle to face Kirkcaldy’s wrath. More importantly, public sympathies shifted to the King’s Party. When the Regency passed to James Douglas, Earl of Morton in the autumn of 1572 the fate of the Castilians was sealed. Morton wasted no effort in convincing a reluctant Elizabeth to send her siege guns.
THE WILLIAM KIRKCALDIES
Although reports do not agree, as shown below, by the time of his surrender, the Knight of Grange’s only child, his daughter Janet Kirkcaldy was already dead, leaving Kirkcaldy without a direct heir. His younger brother James Kirkcaldy was also hanged that day, but unlike his brother, he left a surviving son. The lad was named William in honor of his famous uncle.
Not all of the Kirkcaldy properties were forfeited, which may have something to do with the fact that James Kirkcaldy’s widow, the heiress Helen Leslie, who had betrayed him, had become Morton’s latest mistress. The knight’s nephew, William Kirkcaldy was the logical heir to the Kirkcaldy titles and estates in Fifeshire in the event they were restored. Nephew Willie, however, is not the William Kirkcaldy of Grange mentioned in the title of the story.
At this point, History becomes another of Morton’s victims. Gone is the documentation of Sir Andrew Ker's birth, investiture, and records of the Ker-Kirkcaldy marriage or the dates of birth and baptismal records of Andrew Ker and his several siblings. One genealogy I have seen shows Janet Kirkcaldy giving birth to Andrew when she was approximately four. Others are authored by historians who did not realize aristocratic Scottish women maintained their family surname and confused Janet with her grandmother and her aunt. Some sources had her dying in Scotland in Roxburghshire in 1569, but recent research points to a date and place of death as London in 1572. Overall, my research finds the latter far more credible. She may have gone there on a mission to rescue the Countess of Westmoreland’s daughters who were living in Kent under deplorable conditions. We simply have no way of knowing.
Most, but not all, competent sources suggest she, not Janet Scott, was the Lady Ferniehirst who provided refuge to the Countesses of Westmoreland and Northumberland after the Northern Rebellion in 1569 failed. There is no record of Tommy Kerr’s family being in the castle when it fell, although there is a reference to nine young boys being among the prisoners slated for release. On at least two occasions during the siege, the women and children of Edinburgh including those within the Castle were given amnesty and safe passage out of the city. Also, for men as resourceful as Kirkcaldy and his brother James, getting in and out had never been a problem. We do not know when, but it seems likely that Lady Ferniehirst and her children had exited the castle at least by the autumn of 1572. Andrew Ker’s father Thomas, the Laird of Ferniehirst, was imprisoned briefly in Blackness Castle after the castle fell, but like most of the Marian Castilians, he was soon released into exile. Morton was no fool. He realized a wholesale slaughter of Scots by Scots would be disastrous to his Regency.
Of one thing we are certain: by 1575, Tommy Ker of Ferniehirst had remarried. His second wife was also named Janet—Janet Scott. She was a daughter of the Ferniehirst Kers’ traditional enemy, the powerful laird of Braxtome-Buccleugh. She was an affectionate and capable step-parent to her husband Tommy’s children, including his sons Andrew and William. She also is credited with opening a communication between the young King and his imprisoned mother and was one of the most influential women at the Court of James VI.
At this point in the story, one part of the riddle of the names is ripe for solution. First, Sir Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst and his younger brother William Kirkcaldy of Grange were brothers of the whole blood. We do not know who instigated it, but as more and more leniency was extended to the surviving Castilians, someone in the family noticed that Kirkcaldy’s heir presumptive was lateral rather than direct. At that point, William Ker changed his name and became William Kirkcaldy of Grange. One would attribute the change to family pride, but for the fact his wife and his children never adopted it. It seems the name change was in anticipation of an inheritance. While Tommy Ker’s son William took the name Kirkcaldy, his wife and children retained the name Ker. Perhaps the King’s ratification of the other William Kirkcaldy as the Kirkcaldy heir had something to do with it. Aristocratic Scots had a history of hedging their bets.
And Along Came Rabbie:
In the late 1570’s Tommy Ker and Janet Scott began a second family. The youngest, born in 1587, was named Robert (Robin, Rabbie) and was, therefore, a brother of both of Janet Kirkcaldy’s sons Andrew and William by the half-blood. By the time of Robert’s birth, Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst was about 25 years old, with a son of his own, Sir Andrew Ker of Oxnam, Master of Jedburgh. You would expect history to know his youngest brother as Robert Ker, or even Robby Kerr, but you’d be wrong.
James did not grieve the loss of his favorite’s affections. He had already moved on to Buckingham. The baby brother of Sir Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst spent much of his young adulthood living in the Tower, charged with aiding and abetting his wife in the murder of his best friend.
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| The Tower (as in 1811) Wikimedia Commons |
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| The Somersets {{PD-Art}} |
CONCLUSION: And thus, in answer to the question in the caption, Andrew Ker, William Kirkcaldy, and Robin Carr were brothers. All three were Ferniehirst Kers who either maintained or altered theirs names to suit the times and their individual aspirations.None of them was as loyal to his sovereign as Sir Thomas Ker of Ferniehirst had been.
For a final bit of irony, although he did not get what he wanted by changing his name from Ker to Kirkcaldy, William Kirkcaldy’s son Alexander Ker succeeded Sir Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst( shown below with his wife Anne Stewart of Ochiltree), to become the 2nd Lord Jedburgh when Sir Andrew died and his son Oxnam predeceased him. The many plots for novels suggested in the histories of the three sons of Tommy Ker of Ferniehirst are mind-boggling.
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| {{PD-Art}} |
I could not resist including the portrait of Sir Andrew Ker of Ferniehirst and his wife, above. What better way to illustrate the changes in the political climate of the Borders when James Stuart succeeded Elizabeth? Andrew Kerr spent much of his youth as a reiver, following in the footsteps of his father, Sir Thomas Ker of Ferniehirst. However, following the pacification of Borders formalized in 1605, he seems to have morphed into a dandy whose wife kept a monkey for a pet. It taxes the imagination to envision the notorious warlord riding off to relieve his neighbors of their cattle, sheep, and horses, and at times, their wives, sporting the hair-do in the painting.
Authors Note: While the post was writen based on research for my four novels in the Legacy of the Queen of Scots series, much of the research in my current works comes from The Scottish MiddleMarch 1573-1625: Power. Kinship. Allegiance, by Anna Groundwater, and of course, MacDonald Fraser's hallmark book, Steel Bonnets. Linda Root.
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Thursday, June 18, 2015
Josias Priest: Master of Late 17th Century Dance
by Margaret Porter
Josias Priest (occasionally Preist) and his relatives were the foremost English choreographers, performers, and dance instructors of their era, starting during the Restoration and spanning many reigns.
His first notable public appearance was in the 1667 production of Sir Martin Mar-All at the theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. He performed with Moll Davis, noted for her skill in the dance as well as her singing—but mostly for her liaison with King Charles II. Several years later, at the Duke's Theatre in Dorset Gardens, Priest danced in a production of Davenant’s version of Macbeth, creating and performing the choreography.
His first known connection with the King's court came in in 1675, when thirteen-year-old Princess Mary of York (later Queen Mary II), commissioned a court masque titled Calisto, or the Chaste Nymph. Based upon the myth in Ovid’s Metamorphoses as adapted by John Crowne, it featured dances by Josias Priest, who was paid £100 for his work.
The royal sisters Mary and Anne and other court ladies performed: Margaret Blagge (later Lady Godolphin), Sarah Jennings (later Duchess of Marlborough), Lady Henrietta Wentworth, and more. All wore lavish costumes adorned with real gemstones. Priest’s friend and former colleague Moll Davis—by then the mother of the King’s bastard daughter—was one of many professionals filling out the cast.
The principal male dancers included the King’s illegitimate son, the Duke of Monmouth, “a good judge of dancing, and a good dancer himself,” and the celebrated Monsieur St. André. The Frenchman had been lured to London from Louis XIV’s court by the dancing duke, who had performed with him there in the ballet Les Fêtes de l'Amour.
At that time Priest, assisted by his wife Franck, was master of a young ladies’ school. In November 1680 they took over a similar establishment in Chelsea, as noted by the Gazette:
Those “same Masters” included Jeffrey Bannister, court violinist, and James Hart, singer. Musical instruction was a significant part of the curriculum. Priest’s involvement meant that the pupils had the advantage of instruction from the foremost teacher of dancing. The school occupied the former residence of Sir Arthur Gorges, slightly to the west of the Duke of Beaufort’s grand mansion and its extensive formal gardens.
Eight year old Mary “Molly” Verney arrived at “Mrs. Priest's genteel establishment for young ladies” in 1683, by which time it had become an elite institution, educating the daughters of the noble and the wealthy. Verney papers show that her board for a year cost £5, with additional charges for specific lessons in the arts. The following year the school staged John Blow’s opera Venus and Adonis, in which Molly appeared.
To demonstrate the girls’ dancing abilities, the school held a ball during Easter week. In March 1691, Molly, who up to that time had chiefly studied singing, wrote to her family, “I began to larn to dance of Mr. Prist today,” perhaps a private lesson in preparation for the annual event.
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Amazon
Josias Priest (occasionally Preist) and his relatives were the foremost English choreographers, performers, and dance instructors of their era, starting during the Restoration and spanning many reigns.
His first notable public appearance was in the 1667 production of Sir Martin Mar-All at the theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. He performed with Moll Davis, noted for her skill in the dance as well as her singing—but mostly for her liaison with King Charles II. Several years later, at the Duke's Theatre in Dorset Gardens, Priest danced in a production of Davenant’s version of Macbeth, creating and performing the choreography.
His first known connection with the King's court came in in 1675, when thirteen-year-old Princess Mary of York (later Queen Mary II), commissioned a court masque titled Calisto, or the Chaste Nymph. Based upon the myth in Ovid’s Metamorphoses as adapted by John Crowne, it featured dances by Josias Priest, who was paid £100 for his work.
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| Moll Davis |
The principal male dancers included the King’s illegitimate son, the Duke of Monmouth, “a good judge of dancing, and a good dancer himself,” and the celebrated Monsieur St. André. The Frenchman had been lured to London from Louis XIV’s court by the dancing duke, who had performed with him there in the ballet Les Fêtes de l'Amour.
At that time Priest, assisted by his wife Franck, was master of a young ladies’ school. In November 1680 they took over a similar establishment in Chelsea, as noted by the Gazette:
Advertisement: Josias Priest, Dancing-Master, that kept a Boarding-School for Gentlewomen in Leicester-Fields, is removed to the great School-House at Chelsey, which was Mr. Portman’s, where he did Teach, there will continue the same Masters, and others, to the improvement of the said School.
Those “same Masters” included Jeffrey Bannister, court violinist, and James Hart, singer. Musical instruction was a significant part of the curriculum. Priest’s involvement meant that the pupils had the advantage of instruction from the foremost teacher of dancing. The school occupied the former residence of Sir Arthur Gorges, slightly to the west of the Duke of Beaufort’s grand mansion and its extensive formal gardens.
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| Beaufort House, showing Gorges House, the Priests' school, centre left with red rooftop |
Eight year old Mary “Molly” Verney arrived at “Mrs. Priest's genteel establishment for young ladies” in 1683, by which time it had become an elite institution, educating the daughters of the noble and the wealthy. Verney papers show that her board for a year cost £5, with additional charges for specific lessons in the arts. The following year the school staged John Blow’s opera Venus and Adonis, in which Molly appeared.
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Henry Purcell
by or after John Clostermanoil on canvas, 1695, NPG |
She was still a boarder at the time of its most famous and historic production, one whose popularity has endured for centuries: young composer Henry Purcell’s opera Dido and Aeneas. It was staged, likely for the first time, at the Priests’ school, with the pupils taking part. Possibly Queen Mary herself attended a performance. That original production included seventeen dances devised by Priest.
The result was unexpected controversy, endangering the school’s reputation. Mrs. Buck, a lady investigating London academies, reported, “Priest’s at Little Chelsea was much commended; but he hath lately had an opera, which I’m sure hath done him a great Injury, and the Parents of the Children not satisfied with so Public a shew.” Their daughters' involvement in what is now regarded as a significant development—a full-length opera in English—was apparently not appreciated by the upper classes.
Compounding Priest’s unwelcome notoriety, his associate Thomas D’urfey wrote a satirical comedy titled Love for Money, or The Boarding School, clearly modelled on the school at Gorges House, with lead roles performed by the celebrated players William Mountford and Mrs. Bracegirdle. The play holds pupils and their dancing master up to ridicule. The audience at its performances at the Theatre Royal surely identified the location as the school at Gorges House. The setting, “Chelsey, by the River,” was a giveaway, as were certain bits of dialogue.
Compounding Priest’s unwelcome notoriety, his associate Thomas D’urfey wrote a satirical comedy titled Love for Money, or The Boarding School, clearly modelled on the school at Gorges House, with lead roles performed by the celebrated players William Mountford and Mrs. Bracegirdle. The play holds pupils and their dancing master up to ridicule. The audience at its performances at the Theatre Royal surely identified the location as the school at Gorges House. The setting, “Chelsey, by the River,” was a giveaway, as were certain bits of dialogue.
To demonstrate the girls’ dancing abilities, the school held a ball during Easter week. In March 1691, Molly, who up to that time had chiefly studied singing, wrote to her family, “I began to larn to dance of Mr. Prist today,” perhaps a private lesson in preparation for the annual event.
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| Dorset Gardens Theatre |
Subsequent Purcell-Priest collaborations were King Arthur (1691), written by John Dryden, and The Faery Queen (1692), based on Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream and likely adapted by Thomas Betterton. Both were staged at the Dorset Gardens theatre. Purcell did not long survive his patroness Queen Mary, who died of smallpox at the close of 1694. Eleven months later he followed her to the grave. Like her, he was interred in Westminster Abbey, near the organ with which he was so very familiar.
Priest continued at Gorges House until about 1697, at which time another gentleman assumed its mortgage. Returning to the stage, he danced in The Island Princess at Drury Lane in 1699. The Priest name—either that of Josias or one of his offspring—surfaces repeatedly in connection with dances. As late as 1711 there is a reference to a “Minuet by Mr. Priest” for twelve ladies. His connection to Chelsea endured. His wife Franck died there and was buried in April 1733, as was Josias in January 1735.
What were the popular dances of the day? The minuet de la cour, the bransle, the coranto or courante, the rigadoon, brought from Europe to the English court by Charles II’s son by Nell Gwyn, Charles Beauclerk, 1st Duke of St. Albans. These, singly or in combination, with country dances, hornpipes, and other common forms, were the raw material of Priest’s choreography for the early masques and the later stage plays, and operas. Period dance groups regularly revive, re-create, and perform these dances, and YouTube offers a wealth of examples.
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Sources
Gazette, 22 November, 1680
Jennifer Thorp, “Dance in Late 17th-century London: Priestly muddles,” Early Music
Ifan Kyrle Fletcher, “Ballet in England, 1660-1740,” Famed for Dance
Adrian Tinniswood, The Verneys: A True Story of Love, War and Madness in Seventeenth Century England
John Weaver, An Essay Towards a History in Dancing, 1712
Image Sources
Wikimedia Commons, National Portrait Gallery
Margaret Porter is the award-winning and bestselling author of several historical fiction genres, and is also published in nonfiction and poetry. A Pledge of Better Times, her highly acclaimed novel of courtiers Lady Diana de Vere and Charles Beauclerk, 1st Duke of St. Albans, was recently released in trade paperback and ebook. Margaret studied British history in the UK and the US. As historian, her areas of speciality are social, theatrical, and garden history of the 17th and 18th centuries, royal courts, and portraiture. A former actress, she gave up the stage and screen to devote herself to fiction writing, travel, and her rose gardens.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
The Death of a Hero - The Story Behind a Painting
by Mark Patton.
Victor Hugo once described the British Channel Islands of Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney, Sark and Herm as "little pieces of France, dropped in the sea and picked up by England." They are certainly closer to France than they are to England, although today they are mainly English-speaking. The coast of Normandy is clearly visible from the north and east coasts of Jersey, and from the eastern coast of Alderney.
In fact, the islands were not dropped by France, but retained by England when, in 1204, King John lost his other possessions in Normandy to the French King Philippe-Auguste. Ever since, the islanders have found themselves on the front line whenever England (or, later, Britain) was at war with France.
In a current exhibition on British history-painting at Tate Britain in London, the centre-piece is a painting by the American artist, John Singleton Copley, of "The Death of Major Peirson." The painting is owned by the Tate, but is, ordinarily, on display in Jersey as part of a loan agreement. From 9th June to 13th September, however, those of us who live in, or have the opportunity to visit, London have the opportunity of viewing it.
Victor Hugo once described the British Channel Islands of Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney, Sark and Herm as "little pieces of France, dropped in the sea and picked up by England." They are certainly closer to France than they are to England, although today they are mainly English-speaking. The coast of Normandy is clearly visible from the north and east coasts of Jersey, and from the eastern coast of Alderney.
In fact, the islands were not dropped by France, but retained by England when, in 1204, King John lost his other possessions in Normandy to the French King Philippe-Auguste. Ever since, the islanders have found themselves on the front line whenever England (or, later, Britain) was at war with France.
In a current exhibition on British history-painting at Tate Britain in London, the centre-piece is a painting by the American artist, John Singleton Copley, of "The Death of Major Peirson." The painting is owned by the Tate, but is, ordinarily, on display in Jersey as part of a loan agreement. From 9th June to 13th September, however, those of us who live in, or have the opportunity to visit, London have the opportunity of viewing it.
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"The Death of Major Peirson,"
by John Singleton Copley. Image: Tate Britain
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The events depicted took place in January 1781. On the night of 6th January, a French force led by a mercenary adventurer who styled himself "Baron de Rullecourt" (his name was Philippe Macquart, and his noble title self-adopted) landed on the south-east coast of Jersey, under cover of darkness. He had with him around two thousand troops, but his choice of landing ground was disastrous, and he had lost almost half his force by the time he came ashore.
He had luck on his side, however (or perhaps this really was military judgement), in that the night in question was Twelfth Night, the last evening of the Christmas festivities, and most of the British garrison were celebrating, presumably consuming large quantities of the cider for which the island was then renowned. With his remaining troops, he reached the town of Saint Helier and surprised the island's Lieutenant-Governor, Moses Corbet, in bed, placing him under arrest and forcing the "surrender" of the garrison.
Knowing that Corbet's "surrender" had been made at the point of a gun, neither the British garrison, dispersed between several barracks around the island, nor the local Militia, had any inclination to comply with it. Command was assumed by the senior officer of the regular garrison, 24 year old Major Francis Peirson. He mustered his force on a hill overlooking Saint Helier (he had available around 6000 regular troops and 3000 militia, but it is not known how many of these were actually deployed) and advanced into the town.
The actual fighting lasted for less than fifteen minutes, the French force being decisively outnumbered, but both Peirson and De Rullecourt were killed in action. Copley's painting, commissioned by a London Alderman, John Boydell, shows Peirson falling at the centre of the market-place (now the Royal Square), but it is not thought that he ever reached this position: he was taken out by a sniper in the opening moments of the battle.
The painting also shows a black man (supposedly Peirson's servant, Pompey, although it is unclear that any such man existed) taking aim at the sniper. The uniform worn by this man appears to be that of Lord Dunmore's Ethiopian Regiment (which had nothing to do with Ethiopia, but rather was raised from escaped slaves in the American Colonies): soldiers of this regiment never served outside the American colonies.
Peirson was buried in the crypt of the Town Church nearby, and De Rullecourt in the adjacent church-yard. The context for the invasion, backed by the French King, Louis XVI, was a desire to end the activities of Channel Island privateers, which were harrying French and American shipping on both sides of the Atlantic. With its defeat, these activities were free to continue.
It is unclear whether Copley, who lived and worked in London at the time, actually visited the island, or worked from commercially available prints, but most of the topographical and architectural details are correct, even if aspects of the battle are not.
Copley's painting went on public display in London in 1784, with an admission charge of one shilling, and attracted lengthy queues. For a brief season, the name of Peirson was celebrated as that of Nelson would later be (it still is on the island, where Copley's painting has featured on bank-notes and stamps).
Mark Patton blogs regularly on aspects of history and historical fiction at http://mark-patton.blogspot.co.uk. His novels, Undreamed Shores, An Accidental King and Omphalos, are published by Crooked Cat Publications, and can be purchased from Amazon.
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| The coast of La Rocque, Jersey, where De Rullecourt landed his force. A labyrinth of jagged rocks is to be found beneath the shallow waters, making it the graveyard of many ships. Photo: Man Vyi (image is in the Public Domain). |
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| Philippe Macquart, "Baron de Rullecourt" |
He had luck on his side, however (or perhaps this really was military judgement), in that the night in question was Twelfth Night, the last evening of the Christmas festivities, and most of the British garrison were celebrating, presumably consuming large quantities of the cider for which the island was then renowned. With his remaining troops, he reached the town of Saint Helier and surprised the island's Lieutenant-Governor, Moses Corbet, in bed, placing him under arrest and forcing the "surrender" of the garrison.
Knowing that Corbet's "surrender" had been made at the point of a gun, neither the British garrison, dispersed between several barracks around the island, nor the local Militia, had any inclination to comply with it. Command was assumed by the senior officer of the regular garrison, 24 year old Major Francis Peirson. He mustered his force on a hill overlooking Saint Helier (he had available around 6000 regular troops and 3000 militia, but it is not known how many of these were actually deployed) and advanced into the town.
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| Major Francis Peirson thought to be by Jean Sullivan |
The actual fighting lasted for less than fifteen minutes, the French force being decisively outnumbered, but both Peirson and De Rullecourt were killed in action. Copley's painting, commissioned by a London Alderman, John Boydell, shows Peirson falling at the centre of the market-place (now the Royal Square), but it is not thought that he ever reached this position: he was taken out by a sniper in the opening moments of the battle.
The painting also shows a black man (supposedly Peirson's servant, Pompey, although it is unclear that any such man existed) taking aim at the sniper. The uniform worn by this man appears to be that of Lord Dunmore's Ethiopian Regiment (which had nothing to do with Ethiopia, but rather was raised from escaped slaves in the American Colonies): soldiers of this regiment never served outside the American colonies.
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| Detail of Copley's painting, showing "Pompey" taking aim |
Peirson was buried in the crypt of the Town Church nearby, and De Rullecourt in the adjacent church-yard. The context for the invasion, backed by the French King, Louis XVI, was a desire to end the activities of Channel Island privateers, which were harrying French and American shipping on both sides of the Atlantic. With its defeat, these activities were free to continue.
It is unclear whether Copley, who lived and worked in London at the time, actually visited the island, or worked from commercially available prints, but most of the topographical and architectural details are correct, even if aspects of the battle are not.
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| Saint Helier's Royal Square in the early 19th Century Visible are the statue of George II and the court-house behind it, both of which can be seen on Copley's painting, as well as the church where Peirson and De Rullecourt lie buried. |
Copley's painting went on public display in London in 1784, with an admission charge of one shilling, and attracted lengthy queues. For a brief season, the name of Peirson was celebrated as that of Nelson would later be (it still is on the island, where Copley's painting has featured on bank-notes and stamps).
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| Poster advertising the public exhibition of Copley's painting in London. Photo: Man Vyi (Public Domain). |
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Mark Patton blogs regularly on aspects of history and historical fiction at http://mark-patton.blogspot.co.uk. His novels, Undreamed Shores, An Accidental King and Omphalos, are published by Crooked Cat Publications, and can be purchased from Amazon.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Henry Fitzroy – The Almost King
by Judith Arnopp
Kings, especially Tudor kings, could have everything they wanted. Power, property, wealth, women, it was all theirs with a click of the fingers yet, for many years, Henry VIII was denied one thing – a son and heir to follow him.
In 1519, less than forty years after Bosworth, the Tudor dynasty was still young, and it was Henry’s job to ensure it continued to flourish. The responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders and, as Catherine of Aragon suffered more and more miscarriages, and the sons she did bear died in infancy, his need became an obsession.
With just one legitimate daughter, Mary, Henry was becoming desperate. Imagine his frustration when his mistress, Elizabeth Blount, with no trouble at all produced a healthy son. The temptation to turn his bastard into something more was irresistible. They named the child Henry.
Just to ensure that no one was mistaken, the name Fitzroy which means 'the king’s son', was often given to base-born male offspring, but although it is likely there were a good few more, Henry Fitzroy is the only illegitimate child that the king acknowledged.
Shortly after he was born, Elizabeth was married to Sir George Talboys and assigned several manors in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire. A mark of favour, or perhaps gratitude, for providing the king with what his wife could not.
While the relationship between Henry and Elizabeth ceased, he continued to show Fitzroy favour. At his christening it was Cardinal Wolsey who stood as Godfather, and by the time he was six young Henry was made Knight of the Garter, and created Earl of Nottingham and Duke of Richmond and Somerset. This double dukedom ensured that he took precedence over all other dukes in the land, barring the King’s lawful issue – should he have them.
He was also appointed King’s Lieutenant-general north of Trent, and Keeper of the City and Castle of Carlisle.This may seem a lot for a small boy, but it didn’t stop there, and by the time of his death in 1536 he was Lord |High Admiral of England, Wales, Ireland, Normandy, Gascony, and Aquitane, with a further commission as warden general of the Scottish marches thrown in for good measure.
Throughout his life he acquired castles, land and immense fortune, making him the richest man in England after the King. With the breakdown of Henry and Catherine’s marriage, and the advent of Anne Boleyn and the failures of that union, it soon became clear that, in the absence of a legitimate son, Fitzroy would be Henry’s heir. Nothing, bar the birth of a legitimate son, could stop it.
Henry Fitzroy received an education to match his status. Although often at court, he was resident in King’s College, Cambridge and taught by Richard Croke, a pioneer of Greek Scholarship in England, and John Palsgrave, another eminent scholar. By the time he was ten young Henry was reading Caesar, Virgil, Terence, and speaking Greek.
Henry VIII, proud of his son, despite the stain of his birth, lost no time in proposing matrimonial alliances beneficial to England, attempting to wed him into the family of Pope Clement VII, to a Danish princess, a French princess, and a the sister of Charles V who later became Queen of France.
In spring 1532 Fitzroy spent some time at Hatfield, accompanying Henry VIII to Calais in the autumn. He moved on to Paris, staying with his friend the Earl of Surrey until September 1533. And, later that year, at the age of fourteen, possibly at the instigation of Anne Boleyn, he married Mary Howard, daughter of Thomas, the third Duke of Norfolk by his second wife. The marriage was never consummated due to their age. Thereafter plans for him to go to Ireland were abandoned, and he remained at court in the midst of the furor surrounding the reformation and the downfall of Anne Boleyn.
He is recorded as being present at the execution of the Carthusians in May 1535 and was one of the peers at Anne Boleyn’s trial, witnessing her execution as Henry’s representative in May 1536. Fitzroy benefited both in wealth and status from Anne’s death and those that died with her.
Among Anne’s detractors there were rumours of jealous rivalry between Fitzroy and the Boleyns and whispers that she and her brother, Rochford, plotted to poison him. His death was more likely to have been due to consumption or possibly plague.
Fitzroy’s death in July, just two months after his stepmother, must have proved devastating for the King who, having disinherited both his daughters by this time was left temporarily heirless. But Henry VIII had a new wife and was pinning all his hopes on Jane, who was already pregnant, perhaps with a legitimate son this time. One that would live.
Henry Fitzroy was not given a state funeral as one might expect after his royal upbringing; the arrangements were left to his father in law, the Duke of Norfolk. He is believed to be interred at Thetford Priory with other members of the Howard family. After Fitzroy’s death it was decreed that, since the marriage was not consummated, the marriage was invalid, consequently stripping his widow of her benefits.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Judith Arnopp is the author of seven historical novels; three set in the medieval and four in the Tudor period. Details can be found here.
Illustrations
 |
| Henry Fitzroy Duke of Richmond and Somerset (1519-36) |
Kings, especially Tudor kings, could have everything they wanted. Power, property, wealth, women, it was all theirs with a click of the fingers yet, for many years, Henry VIII was denied one thing – a son and heir to follow him.
In 1519, less than forty years after Bosworth, the Tudor dynasty was still young, and it was Henry’s job to ensure it continued to flourish. The responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders and, as Catherine of Aragon suffered more and more miscarriages, and the sons she did bear died in infancy, his need became an obsession.
With just one legitimate daughter, Mary, Henry was becoming desperate. Imagine his frustration when his mistress, Elizabeth Blount, with no trouble at all produced a healthy son. The temptation to turn his bastard into something more was irresistible. They named the child Henry.
Just to ensure that no one was mistaken, the name Fitzroy which means 'the king’s son', was often given to base-born male offspring, but although it is likely there were a good few more, Henry Fitzroy is the only illegitimate child that the king acknowledged.
Shortly after he was born, Elizabeth was married to Sir George Talboys and assigned several manors in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire. A mark of favour, or perhaps gratitude, for providing the king with what his wife could not.
While the relationship between Henry and Elizabeth ceased, he continued to show Fitzroy favour. At his christening it was Cardinal Wolsey who stood as Godfather, and by the time he was six young Henry was made Knight of the Garter, and created Earl of Nottingham and Duke of Richmond and Somerset. This double dukedom ensured that he took precedence over all other dukes in the land, barring the King’s lawful issue – should he have them.
 |
| Duke of Ricmond |
Throughout his life he acquired castles, land and immense fortune, making him the richest man in England after the King. With the breakdown of Henry and Catherine’s marriage, and the advent of Anne Boleyn and the failures of that union, it soon became clear that, in the absence of a legitimate son, Fitzroy would be Henry’s heir. Nothing, bar the birth of a legitimate son, could stop it.
Henry Fitzroy received an education to match his status. Although often at court, he was resident in King’s College, Cambridge and taught by Richard Croke, a pioneer of Greek Scholarship in England, and John Palsgrave, another eminent scholar. By the time he was ten young Henry was reading Caesar, Virgil, Terence, and speaking Greek.
 |
| Arms of Henry Fitzroy |
Henry VIII, proud of his son, despite the stain of his birth, lost no time in proposing matrimonial alliances beneficial to England, attempting to wed him into the family of Pope Clement VII, to a Danish princess, a French princess, and a the sister of Charles V who later became Queen of France.
In spring 1532 Fitzroy spent some time at Hatfield, accompanying Henry VIII to Calais in the autumn. He moved on to Paris, staying with his friend the Earl of Surrey until September 1533. And, later that year, at the age of fourteen, possibly at the instigation of Anne Boleyn, he married Mary Howard, daughter of Thomas, the third Duke of Norfolk by his second wife. The marriage was never consummated due to their age. Thereafter plans for him to go to Ireland were abandoned, and he remained at court in the midst of the furor surrounding the reformation and the downfall of Anne Boleyn.
He is recorded as being present at the execution of the Carthusians in May 1535 and was one of the peers at Anne Boleyn’s trial, witnessing her execution as Henry’s representative in May 1536. Fitzroy benefited both in wealth and status from Anne’s death and those that died with her.
 |
| Henry VIII |
Among Anne’s detractors there were rumours of jealous rivalry between Fitzroy and the Boleyns and whispers that she and her brother, Rochford, plotted to poison him. His death was more likely to have been due to consumption or possibly plague.
Fitzroy’s death in July, just two months after his stepmother, must have proved devastating for the King who, having disinherited both his daughters by this time was left temporarily heirless. But Henry VIII had a new wife and was pinning all his hopes on Jane, who was already pregnant, perhaps with a legitimate son this time. One that would live.
Henry Fitzroy was not given a state funeral as one might expect after his royal upbringing; the arrangements were left to his father in law, the Duke of Norfolk. He is believed to be interred at Thetford Priory with other members of the Howard family. After Fitzroy’s death it was decreed that, since the marriage was not consummated, the marriage was invalid, consequently stripping his widow of her benefits.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Judith Arnopp is the author of seven historical novels; three set in the medieval and four in the Tudor period. Details can be found here.
Illustrations
1. Henry Fitzroy http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/02/Lucas_Horenbout_-_Henry_Fitzroy%2C_Duke_of_Richmond_and_Somerset_%281519-36%29_-_Google_Art_Project.png
2. The Duke of Richmond sometimes thought to be Edward of Middleham. http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/44/DukeofRichmond1.gif
3. Henry VIII by Holbein http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/07/Workshop_of_Hans_Holbein_the_Younger_-_Portrait_of_Henry_VIII_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg
4.http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/50/Arms_of_Henry_FitzRoy%2C_1st_Duke_of_Richmond_and_Somerset.svg
Further reading:
Elizabeth Norton: Bessie Blount: Mistress to Henry VIII
Susannah Lipscombe: 1536: The year that changed Henry VIII
Amy Licence: In Bed With the Tudors
Giveaway: Season of Mists by Jennifer Corkill
Jennifer is giving away an ecopy of Season of Mists to an international winner. You can read about the book HERE. Please comment on this page to enter the drawing, and be sure to leave your contact information.
Monday, June 15, 2015
The Rock of Cashel: Marvel from Medieval Ireland
by E. M. Powell
There are historical sites that are interesting. There are historical sites that are spectacular. And then there are historical sites that are an icon of the country in which they are located. It is in to the latter category that the Rock of Cashel in Co. Tipperary in the Republic of Ireland falls.
I visited on a recent research trip, which is when the photos in this post were taken. You might be surprised to see scaffolding on here. No, it isn't a medieval building project that has seriously overrun- I shall explain later.
The Rock of Cashel is also known as Saint Patrick's Rock. The rock itself is an impressive prominent hill of karst limestone. This being Ireland, there is of course a far more imaginative description of what the rock is. Legend has it that the Devil took a bite out of the mountain opposite, and then dropped the rock from his jaws onto the plain. That's a lot more exciting then geology, but perhaps not quite as reliable.
Given the commanding position of the Rock, it is hardly surprising that the over-kings of Munster adopted it as their seat of power for hundreds of years. It is here that Saint Patrick is alleged to have converted the King of Munster, Aenghus, to Christianity in the 5th century AD. There is of course no proof of this. We do have a law tract from around 700 A.D. which refers to the King of Cashel controlling other Munster kings.
It was a king of Munster, Muirchertach Ua Briain, who gifted the Rock to the church in 1101. No buildings survive from the reign of the kings. The magnificent buildings that still stand are ecclesiastical and were constructed in the medieval period.
The Round Tower is an architectural design that is unique to Ireland. The tower on the Rock is its oldest building. Originally a bell tower, it dates from around 1100.
Next oldest is Cormac’s Chapel, built by a King of Desmond (part of Munster) and consecrated in 1134. It is the first example of Romanesque architecture in Ireland. It is Cormac's Chapel that is currently shrouded in scaffolding. Its stone roof has had to endure almost 900 years of Irish rain (and that's a lot of rain), and an urgent conservation project is under way. Basically, it's being dried out and I was told that's likely to be a seven year job in total.
Fortunately, you can still enter the Chapel with a guide. It is stunningly beautiful. Carved stone faces look down from the ceilings and the remains of brightly-painted frescoes which would have made the interior glow with colour can still be seen.
The twelfth century saw radical reform of the church in Ireland and the Synods (ecclesiastical councils) were held at Cashel. The first Synod in 1101 attempted to address marriage practices of the native Irish, which were deemed to be immoral. The second Synod of Cashel was held in 1171/72, under the auspices of Henry II and with the full backing of the Pope.
Henry had already added Ireland to his dominions. In 1171, he came in person (the first king of England to ever come to Ireland) and he stayed at Cashel for part of his visit. The Synod passed legislation to do with marriage, the payment of tithes, freed the church from lay control and introduced clerical privilege. In short, the Irish church was to operate in exactly the same way as the Church in England. The Irish Church, in existence for 700 years since the time of Saint Patrick, was ended on the very rock that bears his name.
The cathedral was built in the thirteenth century and added to over the centuries. Some sources claim that a cathedral was built here in 1169, and then replaced.
The Hall of the Vicars Choral was added by an archbishop in the fifteenth century. The Vicars Choral were a group of men appointed to sing during cathedral services and consisted of a mix of clergy and laity. Their quarters have been impressively restored.
The Rock of Cashel is of course deservedly one of the most visited sites on the Republic of Ireland, attracting around a quarter of a million visitors a year. One of those visitor's signatures is on display.
Yes, it's the signature of Queen Elizabeth II. Her State Visit to Ireland was the first made by a British monarch since the founding of the State in 1922. Her visit was a hugely important step in further reconciling the troubled history between the two countries. How apt that her visit included Cashel, the ancient seat of the Irish kings.
References:
All photos are copyright E.M. Powell 2015.
Duffy, Seán, Ireland in the Middle Ages: Palgrave/Macmillan (1997)
Flanagan, Marie Therese, The Transformation of the Irish Church in the Twelfth Century, Boydell Press (2010)
Manning, Conleth, Rock of Cashel, OPW- The Office of Public Works/Oifig na nOibreacha
Ó Cróinín, Dáibhí, Early Medieval Ireland: 400-1200, Longman (1995)
O'Keefe, Tadhg, Medieval Ireland: An Archaeology, Tempus Publishing Ltd. (2000)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
E.M. Powell’s medieval thrillers The Fifth Knight and The Blood of the Fifth Knight have been #1 Amazon bestsellers.
Born and raised in the Republic of Ireland into the family of Michael Collins (the legendary revolutionary and founder of the Irish Free State), she lives in northwest England with her husband, daughter and a Facebook-friendly dog. She blogs for EHFA, reviews for the Historical Novel Society and contributes to The Big Thrill.
The next novel in the series, The Lord of Ireland, in which Sir Benedict Palmer is sent on the Lord John's disastrous 1185 campaign in Ireland, will be published by Thomas & Mercer in 2016. Find out more at www.empowell.com.
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Walmart
There are historical sites that are interesting. There are historical sites that are spectacular. And then there are historical sites that are an icon of the country in which they are located. It is in to the latter category that the Rock of Cashel in Co. Tipperary in the Republic of Ireland falls.
 |
| The Rock of Cashel |
I visited on a recent research trip, which is when the photos in this post were taken. You might be surprised to see scaffolding on here. No, it isn't a medieval building project that has seriously overrun- I shall explain later.
The Rock of Cashel is also known as Saint Patrick's Rock. The rock itself is an impressive prominent hill of karst limestone. This being Ireland, there is of course a far more imaginative description of what the rock is. Legend has it that the Devil took a bite out of the mountain opposite, and then dropped the rock from his jaws onto the plain. That's a lot more exciting then geology, but perhaps not quite as reliable.
 |
| Devil's Bit |
Given the commanding position of the Rock, it is hardly surprising that the over-kings of Munster adopted it as their seat of power for hundreds of years. It is here that Saint Patrick is alleged to have converted the King of Munster, Aenghus, to Christianity in the 5th century AD. There is of course no proof of this. We do have a law tract from around 700 A.D. which refers to the King of Cashel controlling other Munster kings.
It was a king of Munster, Muirchertach Ua Briain, who gifted the Rock to the church in 1101. No buildings survive from the reign of the kings. The magnificent buildings that still stand are ecclesiastical and were constructed in the medieval period.
 |
| The Round Tower |
The Round Tower is an architectural design that is unique to Ireland. The tower on the Rock is its oldest building. Originally a bell tower, it dates from around 1100.
 |
| Exterior of Cormac's Chapel |
Next oldest is Cormac’s Chapel, built by a King of Desmond (part of Munster) and consecrated in 1134. It is the first example of Romanesque architecture in Ireland. It is Cormac's Chapel that is currently shrouded in scaffolding. Its stone roof has had to endure almost 900 years of Irish rain (and that's a lot of rain), and an urgent conservation project is under way. Basically, it's being dried out and I was told that's likely to be a seven year job in total.
 |
| Interior of Cormac's Chapel |
Fortunately, you can still enter the Chapel with a guide. It is stunningly beautiful. Carved stone faces look down from the ceilings and the remains of brightly-painted frescoes which would have made the interior glow with colour can still be seen.
 |
| Ceiling of Cormac's Chapel |
The twelfth century saw radical reform of the church in Ireland and the Synods (ecclesiastical councils) were held at Cashel. The first Synod in 1101 attempted to address marriage practices of the native Irish, which were deemed to be immoral. The second Synod of Cashel was held in 1171/72, under the auspices of Henry II and with the full backing of the Pope.
 |
| Carved Stone Sarcophagus |
Henry had already added Ireland to his dominions. In 1171, he came in person (the first king of England to ever come to Ireland) and he stayed at Cashel for part of his visit. The Synod passed legislation to do with marriage, the payment of tithes, freed the church from lay control and introduced clerical privilege. In short, the Irish church was to operate in exactly the same way as the Church in England. The Irish Church, in existence for 700 years since the time of Saint Patrick, was ended on the very rock that bears his name.
The cathedral was built in the thirteenth century and added to over the centuries. Some sources claim that a cathedral was built here in 1169, and then replaced.
 |
| Exterior of Cathedral's South Transept |
The Hall of the Vicars Choral was added by an archbishop in the fifteenth century. The Vicars Choral were a group of men appointed to sing during cathedral services and consisted of a mix of clergy and laity. Their quarters have been impressively restored.
 |
| The Hall of the Vicars Choral- Interior |
The Rock of Cashel is of course deservedly one of the most visited sites on the Republic of Ireland, attracting around a quarter of a million visitors a year. One of those visitor's signatures is on display.
 |
| Elizabeth R |
Yes, it's the signature of Queen Elizabeth II. Her State Visit to Ireland was the first made by a British monarch since the founding of the State in 1922. Her visit was a hugely important step in further reconciling the troubled history between the two countries. How apt that her visit included Cashel, the ancient seat of the Irish kings.
 |
| Celtic Cross at Cashel |
References:
All photos are copyright E.M. Powell 2015.
Duffy, Seán, Ireland in the Middle Ages: Palgrave/Macmillan (1997)
Flanagan, Marie Therese, The Transformation of the Irish Church in the Twelfth Century, Boydell Press (2010)
Manning, Conleth, Rock of Cashel, OPW- The Office of Public Works/Oifig na nOibreacha
Ó Cróinín, Dáibhí, Early Medieval Ireland: 400-1200, Longman (1995)
O'Keefe, Tadhg, Medieval Ireland: An Archaeology, Tempus Publishing Ltd. (2000)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Born and raised in the Republic of Ireland into the family of Michael Collins (the legendary revolutionary and founder of the Irish Free State), she lives in northwest England with her husband, daughter and a Facebook-friendly dog. She blogs for EHFA, reviews for the Historical Novel Society and contributes to The Big Thrill.
The next novel in the series, The Lord of Ireland, in which Sir Benedict Palmer is sent on the Lord John's disastrous 1185 campaign in Ireland, will be published by Thomas & Mercer in 2016. Find out more at www.empowell.com.
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Walmart
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