Nottinghamshire and the English Civil War

Eljx1988, CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

I’m researching the Little History of Nottinghamshire among other things at the moment and am having a dabble into the 17th century.

Charles I raised his standard at Nottingham Castle on 22 August 1641. It marked a call to arms and the start of the English Civil War. A little under four years later, the king surrendered to the Scottish Parliamentarian army at the Saracen’s Head at Southwell near Newark. He was moved from there to Kelham and ordered to write a letter requiring the surrender of Newark to Parliament.

Newark experienced three sieges through the course of the civil war. The town even produced its own siege money during the last siege which occurred in 1645-46 because cash was in such short supply. Inevitably after three sieges the town wasn’t in good shape and the population became ill with plague to add to the general misery. Inevitably after the surrender the church St Mary Magdalene, whose spire is said to have been damaged by a canon ball during the second siege of 1644, was badly damaged by victorious Parliamentarian soldiers.

The castles at Newark and Nottingham were both razed in the aftermath of the war. Meanwhile int he countryside a series of manor houses suffered the consequences of civil conflict. At Shelford the church tower was used by sharp shooters while the Manor House, which belonged to the Earl of Chesterfield, was provided with trenches and earthworks for the defence of almost 200 royalists. The earl’s son, Philip, was so badly wounded in the final battle that ended the siege that he died the following day and that seem evening Shelford Manor was destroyed in a fire. It was rebuilt after the Restoration.

Wiverton Hall, belonging to the Chaworth family, was a Tudor Manor House complete with a moat. Following the events of Shelford, its governor, Sir Robert Therrill, came to terms with the Parliamentarians and made the hall indefensible. Only the medieval gatehouse escaped demolition. Wollaton Hall near Nottingham had been damaged by a fire in 1642 and the Willoughby family lived at their home in Warwickshire so although the estate supported the garrisons a Wiverton and Shelford it did not suffer the consequences of being garrisoned.

Near Worksop, Wlebeck Abbey was the residence of the Earl of Newcastle. he would be rewarded with a dukedom upon the Restoration but his home became a garrison under the command of his eldest daughter Lady Jane Cavendish during the civil war. Some of the earl’s valuables were buried for safekeeping – in the time honoured manner – while both royalists and parliamentarians helped themselves to anything else. The duke and his second wife, Margaret Lucas, spent many years after the Restoration restoring the property and its estates.

While the Duke of Newcastle was the most prominent of Nottinghamshire’s royalists, the Byron family of Newstead Abbey also played a significant part. There were seven brothers who all joined the Royalist army and all of them are thought to have fought at Edgehill. Thomas Byron killed by one of his own men at Oxford in a dispute over pay. His brother John was at the battles of Newbury, Nantwich and Marston Moor where he commanded the right flank of the Royalist line. He would eventually die in exile in 1652. Robert Byran became the military governor of Liverpool but was forced to surrender when his Irish troops mutinied. He spent some time in custody, fought at Naseby and was rearrested as a royalist spy. After the war he returned to Ireland with a commission. William was knighted by the king on the very day that he surrendered to the Scots at Southwell. He was with his brother John Byron at the Siege of Carnarvon and afterwards he went into exile where he continued to work for the royalist cause.

Gilbert was the youngest of the brothers and he is known to have fought in the Bishops’ War in 1639 when he was part of the King’s Lifeguard. In 1640 he was in Europe fighting on behalf of the king’s sister, Elizabeth of Bohemia but by January 1642 he was back in England and was one of the men who went with Charles I to arrest five members of Parliament. He may have been at Marston Moor before going to Wales with his brother. Eventually he made his way to Pontefract but was captured when he sallied out of the castle in search of provisions with a band of men. Like other royalists he was required to pay a fine but his health appears to have been poor, perhaps because of wounds – I’m not sure- and he died in 1656 leaving a wife and two daughters.

During the second, short lived, civil war which broke out early in 1648 Nottinghamshire saw a small but important battle near Willoughby-on-the-Wolds. At the end of the encounter 100 or so royalists were dead including Michael Stanhope, the brother of Philip Stanhope. There is a brass commemorating him in Willoughby Church.

Interestingly one of the most interesting accounts of Nottinghamshire’s civil war comes from Lucy Hutchinson, the wife of Colonel John Hutchinson who held Nottingham for Parliament and was a regicide, having signed Charles I’s death warrant. Lucy, who was devoted to her husband and wrote his biography and while it’s not as famous as Margaret Cavendish’s biography about her husband it provides an insight into the war in and around Nottingham.

Click on the image to open the link to Amazon (Amazon Associate) – For kindle owners the biography is currently (at time of writing) 49p but rathe more expensive if you prefer a hard copy.

Power and the People – civil war (s)

There were three civil wars fought between 1642 and 1651 across Britain’s three kingdoms. Charles, married to Henrietta Maria, was increasingly distrusted because of his use of royal power, his economic policies and disagreement about religion.

There were many types of Christianity in Charles I’s realm from High Church groups such as the Arminians, favoured by Archbishop Laud, who supported vestments and altar railings and whose Book of Common Prayer laid out the form services should take. The archbishop believed in the ‘beauty of holiness’ and wanted lots of decoration. Many people saw Laud’s vision of the Church of England as almost Catholic in the form it took and it didn’t help that there were so many prominent Catholics at court including Henrietta Maria, Charles’ queen upon whom he relied for advice after the demise of his favourites.

For many people in England religion was related not only to faith but to national identity. It wasn’t that long since the Spanish Armada of 1588 or the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 – ‘Popish plots’ was examples of treachery.

In 1637 Puritan pamphleteers had their ears cropped and were branded for criticising Laud – which made him look rather cruel.

In 1638 the Scots revolted when Charles attempted to impose the Book of Common Prayer upon them.

Charles was forced to recall Parliament to raise funds to fight the Scots – parliament was sympathetic to the Puritans. The so called long parliaments lasted from 1640 to 1653. Recalled, and knowing that the king needed cash Parliament issued the Grand Remonstrance against the king in November 1641 and in June 1642 issued the Nineteen Propositions which was a bid to gain more power for themselves. By then the relationship between the monarch and his parliament was at breakdown. At the end of August, Charles raised his standard at Nottingham Castle and the country was at war.

Click on the pictures to open the links for more information about the books below. Diane Purkiss’s book provides an excellent account of the English civil war. I really enjoyed Michael Arnold’s Stryker series written against the backdrop of the turbulent 17th century.

Amazon Associate
Amazon associate

The turbulent seventeenth century – Divine Right and the Petition of Right

Divine right is the belief in the God given right of a monarch to rule. The idea was established in the reign of James (1603-25) who believed that the king was subject to no other earthly authority and could only be judged by God. Any attempt to depose or even to restrict the powers of the king went against God’s will. In 1598 he had published a book called The True Law of Free Monarchies. He claimed that ‘Kings are justly called gods for that they exercise a manner or resemblance of divine power on earth’. The Basilikon Doron written by the king as a set of instructions for his eldest son, Prince Henry, in 1599 identified his ideology more clearly.

The book is divided into three parts:

I) how to be a Christian king

2) practical aspects of kingship

3) the king’s behaviour in everyday life.

James’ belief in the divine right of kings had a negative impact on his relationship with the English Parliament. During the reign of his successor, Charles who inherited the throne following the deaths of his elder brother in 1612 and James in 1625 also believed in the divine right of kings. Charles I also believed that because he was God’s representative only he had the right to make laws and that to oppose him was a sin. He believed that he was above the law and had to govern according to his conscience.

By the time James died in 1625 Parliament was suspicious of the Stuart kings, by 1628 the tension turned to Parliamentary demands known as the Petition of Right. Charles lacked both experience and confidence and relied upon the advice of his favourite, the Duke of Buckingham. Buckingham advocated a raid on Cadiz which was a disaster. Parliament demanded that she should be impeached – so Charles dissolved parliament before it granted him any funds. Buckingham arranged for the king to marry a French Catholic bride (Henrietta Maria) and then went to war with the French in 1627 in support of the Huguenots of La Rochelle – the whole thing was a disaster because of poor planning. By 1628 Charles was at war, without any money and was trying to extract forced loans. He had no choice but to call Parliament.

Sir Edward Coke, a lawyer, put together the Petition of Right which stated, there would be no more forced loans; no imprisonment without trial – 5 knights had been sent to prison because they refused to pay Charles’ forced loan. In addition there would be no further use of free lodgings (billeting) for soldiers in civilian households and no use of martial law against civilians. At the same time, the House of Commons granted the king five subsidies but only if he agreed their terms. Coke and Parliament were defining the law by asserting rights that already existed. It should have been an opportunity for the king and parliament to learn to work together…

Click on the book to open the link in a new tab to find the book and read more about their contents. I love Leanda de Lisle’s writing. Last year she published a biography of Charle’s queen, Henrietta Maria

Reading the past? Passionflowers

One of the things I really enjoyed about last year was finding out more about the flowers on the #unstitched coif and, in the process, learning a bit more about the woman who intended to sew it. I also enjoyed the topic I covered during lockdown on the history of plants – et voila – another new ‘spot’ for the blog – reading the past – I’m no good with the emoticons and emoji’s of modern technology. This is much more my thing.

The image of a carved passionflower, or passiflora, is taken from a Victorian headstone in a local churchyard and just happens to be the firth thing I found when I started scrolling through my photos.

Welcome to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. It’s the age of exploration and some Jesuits are wandering around modern Paraguay and Peru. The conquistador, Pedro Cieza de Leon mentions the plant in writing for the first time in 1553 in the context of its fruit. The Christian symbolism associated with the five wounds of Christ that could be identified within the flower was described soon after: 10 petals for the number of disciples who were still loyal at the time of the crucifixion; filaments representing the crown of throne; five anthers for the wounds of Christ; the stamen looking a bit like the hammer that drove the nails; even the tendrils were described as being like the whips with which Christ was beaten. And bingo! A valuable teaching aid and a flowery justification for invading and Christianising the Americas. The plant was there, so obviously God wanted a bunch of conquistadors terrorising the locals in his or her name.

The story spread and in 1609, Giacomo Bosia, one of the knights of Malta, included the passionflower in a book about legends and miracles associated with the cross. Three years later passionflowers were being cultivated in Paris and England. It was originally called the Virginian Climber in Britain as no one wanted to mention the Catholic connection. However, after Charles I had his head removed in 1649, the late monarch was sometimes described by his supporters as ‘the passionflower’ because they believed he had been martyred. The Tradescants who were royal gardeners and plant collectors made it very popular -for a price- after the Restoration.

By the Victorian period it was a popular adornment for gravestones representing as it did Christ’s crucifixion, redemption and mankind’s salvation. The jesuit element of the equation and even Charles I had been discarded, or never even had the chance to get going. To be honest I don’t recall seeing it on Stuart or later embroideries, no point looking at the Elizabethans – and of course the expansion of trade changed English attitudes to embroidery and ornament as indeed did the Commonwealth. England had a rich embroidered tradition prior to the English Civil War. By 1661 the royalists who’d spent their exiles in the Low Countries and France thought that European art was much more sophisticated than anything home grown. And, by the eighteenth century beautiful fabrics were arriving from China and the Indias – no more sitting around embroidering your bed curtains and night hats!

I think I’ve seen a passionflower on an alta-frontal but that was Victorian as well. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a seventeenth century version in embroidered form. Stumpwork and crewel work were popular during that century. Please let me know if you spot any old needlework productions of the passionflower on your travels! A photograph (assuming its permitted would be even nicer).

Bleichmar, Daniela, Visual Voyages: Images of Latin American Nature from Columbus to Darwin (Yale: Yale University Press, 2017) pp.82-89

Gardens, daffodils and embroidery as a statement of faith

Daffodils – I defy anyone not to think of Wordsworth’s lonely wanderings! Or Wales where it translates as St Peter’s leek. Or the Marie Curie Cancer charity – so having established that daffodils play an important part in modern symbolism or romantic ramblings what about the past, setting aside Greek myth?

They have many common names including bell rose, faerie bells and ladies ruffles. More tellingly, thanks to the time they flower, they are also known as lent lilies and lenty cups. Christian lore states that the daffodil first made its appearance in the garden of Gethsemane and to add to my growing picture of a Mary Garden, daffodils are also known as ‘Mary’s star’. It has been suggested that the occurance of daffodils in the wild in England and Wales can be an indicator that there was once a monastic house on  the site- in London, Abbey Wood is the home of wild daffodils and the location of Lesnes Abbey (Phillips, An Encyclopedia of Plants).

In all there are more than one hundred flowering plants associated with Mary. Incluing lavender which also goes by the name of Mary’s drying plant and lily of the valley which are sometimes called Mary’s tears. The frequency of the names is an aid to demonstrating that in medieval England that Mary was deeply revered. There’s even a mystery play about her childhood and betrothal to Joseph. The Wilton Diptych that belonged to Richard II shows him kneeling before her and the angles surrounding her all helpfully wearing the king’s badge of a white heart. 

And then of course, we arrive at the Reformation in Tudor England which saw the vibrant colours and stories of the past white washed away. In the Seventeenth Century, Oliver Cromwell and his Roundheads destroyed even more of the iconography that they believed to be idolatrous.

Even so, when Charles II sat upon the throne about 5% of the population, in some parts of the country, was still Catholic. While devotional pieces of the kind owned by Elizabeth Stuart (she married into the Howard family) are rare, as indeed are liturgical clothing. The work of Helena Wintour was born in 1600 is an exceptional collection. Her father Robert and uncle Thomas were executed for their part in the Gunpowder Plot in 1605. Helena remained a Catholic throughout her life and set up a secret Catholic School in Worcestershire where she lived so that catholic children could be educated in England rather than having to go abroad.  She designed and embroidered vestments for the Jesuits who visited her home. 

 There seems to have been little written about secular Catholic embroidery that I can find (if anyone can recommend any reading I’d love to hear from you) but it would be logical that if people were planting gardens to link them to their beliefs; hiding priests in holes behind fire places; educating their children in secret and paying huge fines rather than attend the local protestant parish church – it does not seem unreasonable that they were embroidering their faith into the clothes that they wore. 

Father Henry Hawkins, a Jesuit, published a text in 1633 about the symbolism of flowers associated with the Virgin Mary called Sacred Virginity (Partheneia Sacra) which was smuggled into Catholic households enabling them to use the flowers described as a symbol of their faith.

 blog.nms.ac.uk/2022/05/31/embroidered-crucifixion/

sites.google.com/ushaw.org/fabricofresistance/fabric-of-resistance-online-exhibition

Samuel Pepys’ lion

Tower of London, lions

Alright – I know that the seventeenth century is not medieval by anyone’s stretch of the imagination – however, I just couldn’t resist.

Samuel Martin, a consul in Algiers and husband of one of Samuel’s old flames, sent Pepys a ‘tame’ lion as a gift in 1674. Sam decided that the lion would be best accommodated in his admiralty office in much the same manner as any other moggy. He wrote with his thanks and the information that ‘as tame as you sent him, and as good company.’ The cub eventually grew too big to be accommodated in Sam’s office at Derby House and he joined the menagerie in the Tower of London. Samuel had written about visits to the zoo in 1660 to see a lion named Crowly who was very tame.

Should you happen to be wandering near Seething Lane Garden where Pepys had his home you can find a carving of a lion.

The Tower of London has had a menagerie since the 1200s – which is definitely medieval. In medieval times, in order to get into the Tower visitors would have to cross a drawbridge to the lion tower built by King Edward I in about 1275 before entering. The tower was demolished during the Victorian period . In addition to lions the barbican also housed leopards.

Eventually it came to be believed, so it is said, that if a lion died someone in the royal family was about to die. The rumour was given credibility when a lioness died in 1603 shortly followed by Queen Elizabeth I.

The frost fair of 1608

The Thames froze for six weeks in February 1608 – and the people of London held a fair on the icy expanse. The rive was wider, more shallow and flowed more slowly. The water froze. Not only did people come onto the ice to skate and to hold a fair but they burned fires. It was the culmination of the so-called Great Frost which began in December the previous year.

Much to my delight there is a primary source, with a typically seventeenth century snappy title, available The great frost. cold doings in London, except it be at the lotterie. With newes out of the country. A familiar talke betwene a country-man and a citizen touching this terrible frost and the great lotterie, and the effects of them. the description of the Thames frozen over. It was written by Thomas Dekker. It wasn’t only the merchants of London seeking to make a profit from the cold snap which was actually a symptom of the so-called Little Ice Age.

Dekker wasn’t the only one to put quill to paper, the poet John Taylor also described the scene.

Clearly boatmen weren’t happy but it wasn’t long before carts were using the river as an impromptu road.

Let us hope the current cold spell isn’t quite so long lasting – having been snowed in today with intermittent power and even telephone lines coming down I can only admire the pragmatism of seventeenth century Londoners.

Sir Richard Leveson

Sir Richard Leveson was named after his godfather, and cousin, Sir Richard Leveson of Lilleshall – who was one of Elizabeth I’s admirals. The admiral died without children and Richard inherited although his claim was contested by the Curzon family. In 1613 he also inherited his elder brother’s estates in Kent. The family was troubled by debts and contested inheritances so Richard was not particularly wealthy. Following his mother’s death he sold off his Kent estates and made Lilleshall his home.

Lady Katherine Leveson by Cornelius Jansen owned by the Lady Katherine Leveson Foundation

In 1629 he married, against the advice of his friends, Katherine Dudley the daughter of Robert Dudley who abandoned his family in 1605 when the Star Chamber concluded that his father the Earl of Leicester and his mother Douglas, Lady Sheffield had not been married. Poor Katherine was tarnished with the potential slur of illegitimacy herself as her father had declared himself to be clandestinely married to Frances Vavasour when he married Katherine’s mother. Nor did it help that Dudley’s estates, inherited from the Earl of Leicester, were confiscated by the Crown and that Sir Robert Sidney and his family claimed the lands by right of legitimate inheritance. When the matter was resolved he and Katherine were able to build a fine Manor House at Trentham outside Stoke. Trentham like Lilleshall had once been a monastic property. His and Katherine’s home was replaced by a Georgian building in 1690.

In November 1640 Leveson was elected to Parliament where he was initially neutral but eventually came to support the cause of Charles I. He was a cavalry commander and sat in the Oxford Parliament. During this time he and his brother-in-law Robert Holbourne persuaded the king to re-examine the Dudley case which resulted in his mother-in-law Alice Dudley being recognised as Duchess Dudley and his wife the place of a duke’s daughter. Lilleshall Abbey was eventually taken by Parliamentarian forces in 1645 and Leveson found himself imprisoned in Nantwich where his health suffered. In the aftermath of the wars he was forced to pay fines for his support of the royalist cause. When he drew up his will he arranged for trustees to look after his wife’s interest and for his nieces to inherit after her death. He died in 1661 and is buried in Lilleshall Church.

https://www.historyofparliamentonline.org/volume/1604-1629/member/leveson-richard-1598-1661

Pharmacopoeias

A pharmacopoeia is a handbook of medicines. The seventeenth century texts I’m perusing at the moment for a very specific cure-all are deeply underwhelming although strangely fascinating. Remedies includes the “turds” of geese, goats, hens, swallows and a peacock . One requires millipedes. Another lists amongst its ingredients discarded nail clippings. If you weren’t ill before you certainly would have been afterwards.

Many of the more exotic ingredients would have come from the mediterranean and beyond. And as navigators explored further and colonialisation took hold the ingredients of the pharmacopoeias did become more exotic – rhinoceros brain anyone?

The Pharmacopoeia Londinensis was published on the orders of James I and it effectively created a list of all official drugs – frogs lungs…if the goods you wanted to sell to an apothecary and then on to a physician were not on the Royal College of Physicians list then quite simply it wasn’t a cure. The Worshipful Society of Apothecaries was created in 1618 so now regulation was ensured. Little old ladies with herbal connections might find themselves in real bother and so could a male apothecary not following the guild’s rules. The College of Physicians which had controlled the apothecaries retained the right to license them in London but not to prevent them from dispensing medicines or treating people and the pharmacopoeia was a way of the physicians maintaining some kind of control because they dictated what was admissible to the list.

The Pharmacopoeia Londinensis continued to be published until 1854 when a new British listing was produced. By that time goat’s urine had been removed from the list.

https://history.rcplondon.ac.uk/blog/weapon-dressed-book-pharmacopoeia-londinensis

Jane Mosley’s remedies, cuttlefish and Galen

Image of peony from Gerard’s herbal

Jane Mosley lived in Brailsford, Derbyshire during the seventeenth century. The record office has her personal books of recipes and remedies.

She was probably born in the summer of 1669. The family had links with London as well as being an established Derbyshire family. In 1697 she married Edward Soresby of Darley. The couple went on to have eight children before Jane died in 1712. The county archives contains letters, accounts and land transactions as well as family wills.

Amongst her remedies is a cure for the falling sickness, or epilepsy as we would recognise it today. Peony roots grated and drunk and worn around the neck – Jane spells it pionie and it turns up elsewhere as danpi. It will probably come as no surprise to discover that Galen, the Roman physician, recommended peonies as a cure for falling sickness. So all though it features in Jane’s book it would have been something understood in the medieval period as well. Anyone with seizures would likely be prescribed a drink containing peony roots and required to wear it around their neck as a talisman. The remedy can also be found in Gerard’s Herbal.

There are several toothpaste recipes, the most straightforward of which involves salt and cuttle bone – ground up cuttlefish bone was also used as a polishing powder by goldsmiths. A second recipe involved rosemary and harts horn as well as cuttlefish. She also knew of a mouthwash to make teeth “steadfast.” The rinse involved vervain roots in cold wine.

Derbyshire Museum Service. 1979. Jane Mosley’s Derbyshire Recipes