
August 1641- a step back from the Grand Remonstrance.
At this point where London was up in arms and Parliament demanding to see changes, Charles I took himself off to his other kingdom – I’m not quite sure how he marketed his visit to Scotland given that he had made war on his own Scottish subjects not once but twice and that they had ended up being paid a large amount of money each day whilst occupying Northumberland and Durham – but there you go, such was the way of the world in 1641. On the 25th August 1641 Charles I was in Edinburgh signing over the the Covenanters virtually everything that they had demanded. Perhaps as Leander de Lisle suggests Charles had awoken to the fact that the puritans in England’s parliament were stirring up ferment and wanted to settle things down.
The religious situation across the country was deteriorating with different factions demanding that their voices be heard. In Kidderminster it was the mob who saw the puritan faction off when they threatened the church’s ornaments. But changes were afoot none the less.
Parliament ordered Catholic priests out of the country recognising that without a priesthood the mass could not be said. William Ward, a Catholic priest was the first to suffer a traitor’s death that year – I’m not sure how much of a danger he was – he was eighty-one at the time. By the time Charles returned to London seven more men awaited execution.
Henrietta Maria, Charles’ french Catholic queen, still in London whilst her husband visited his Scottish capital found herself the target of Puritan hostility. Aside from her frenchness and Catholicism she was now accused of conducting an affair with Henry Jermyn. She was also ill in 1641 – in part it must have been the stress of the English political situation. She asked to go to Holland to visit a spa for her health. Parliament refused. Maybe they realised she would use the opportunity to raise funds and soldiery for her husband. Nor did it help, in all probability, that she was receiving letters from Charles three times a week. He relied upon her utterly and she in her turn was telling him to be more forceful – in modern parlance to “man-up” and give the Puritans what for.
On the 23rd October the Irish revolted. They wanted the same kind of rights as the Scottish Presbyterians had just acquired – but given the current situation with the Puritans headed up by John Pym in the English Parliament that wasn’t going to happen any time soon – and we know the consequences of the Irish Rebellion- countless deaths and a faction in Parliament attempting to break Charles’ power by cataloguing all his abuses since he took the throne detailed in the Grand Remonstrance. It was passed by a slim margin but Pym’s act of genius was to circulate the information and the arguments for change more widely through printed material.
Prior to the Grand Remonstrance whilst Charles was still in Scotland, Henrietta Maria was blamed for encouraging the Irish to revolt, her own priest was arrested and questioned with regard to his alleged involvement in the rebellion and attempting to convert young Prince Charles to catholicism. The Irish uprising, in short, was an opportunity, to “have a go” at England’s most influential catholics. Every other Catholic in the country was required to lay their identity before Parliament. It was 24th of November before the king arrived back in his English capital. Parliament had passed the Grand Remonstrance two days previously.
It’s probably time to introduce another of the key players into this increasingly hostile morass – Lucy Hay, Lady Carlisle. She was a daughter of the 9th Earl of Northumberland (a Percy) and her mother was the daughter of the first Earl of Essex (Dorothy Devereux – meaning that her grand-mother was Lettice Knollys, her great-grandmother was Catherine Carey and her two times great-grandmother was Mary Boleyn). In other words she was part of the establishment, knew all the key political players of the time and was related to most of them. She married James Hay and became the Countess of Carlisle, although her father had offered her £20,000 not to marry him. She became George Villiers’ mistress which meant that initially Henrietta Maria wanted nothing to do with her but by the time that George, the Duke of Buckingham, was assassinated, somehow or other all that had changed and she had become one of the Queen’s favourites.
Lord Carlisle clearly had nothing against his wife furthering his own ends by whatever means necessary because he sent her off to win Thomas Wentworth, earl of Strafford over in 1635 when he became responsible for the running of Ireland. Lucy became Wentworth’s mistress which probably wasn’t a bad thing in 1636 when Lord Carlisle died and left Lucy his Irish property. Of course, at the start of 1641 Wentworth found himself in the position of official scapegoat for the Bishop’s War and was executed in May.
Lucy’s reaction after Wentworth’s death is somewhat unexpected. She remained friends with Henrietta Maria but she now drew close to John Pym – yes, the Puritan. She seems to have undergone a bit of a sea change when she became Pym’s mistress, even taking notes during church sermons. It was Lucy who alerted Parliament via her cousin, the earl of Essex, to the king’s plans to arrest John Pym and four others in January 1642. Her shifting allegiances are a microcosm of what was happening at court as men and women decided which side to support based on personal preference, political consideration and economic practicality.
The fact remains though that if Lady Carlisle loved Wentworth and wanted to punish the king for allowing him to be executed why was she sleeping with the man who forced Charles to have Wentworth executed in the first place? What did she hope to gain? Some men felt that they weren’t getting the kind of rewards that they deserved from the king – so switched to Parliament, others were anti-Catholic – so drew towards the anti-Catholic parliamentary faction. Some of Lucy’s actions are a matter for speculation. Most historians regard her as an intriguer but most also admit that there is no clarity as to who exactly she was spying for. Lucy became associated with a moderate Presbyterian faction but during the second civil war she raised money for the royalists as well as offering a conduit of information between royalists and the queen. She even ended up in the Tower for her pains – demonstrating another about face. May be she just liked being a conspirator or having an impact on the political situation.
Meanwhile to conclude with 1641 and lead into 1642 Pym was able to convince enough people through their own needs, through printed pamphlets and through the king’s own rather high-handed actions during the years of personal rule that England was facing its own Catholic threat and that the source of that threat lay close to the king. This in its turn was regarded by Charles as a personal attack on the wife to whom he was devoted.
In the house of Lords where Charles could have relied on the Bishops for support there were also problems – not least the difficulty of getting through the London mob to actually take their seats on account of all the printed pamphlets and rioting – that looked remarkably like the start of sectarian violence when seen from a distance. Elsewhere Pym and his associates were regarded as dangerous radicals – remember that the grand Remonstrance passed by very few votes. London was a ferment of rumour and gossip.
Charles must have thought long and hard over the Christmas season. He recognised John Pym as a threat to his power and the safety of Henrietta Maria. He sought, in the New Year of 1642 to have Pym and leading members of his faction arrested but thanks to Lucy Hay, Countess of Carlisle- who may or may not have been acting out of anger at the way in which Sir Thomas Wentworth, earl of Strafford had been treated by his monarch- his plans were known and Charles found himself in even more hot water than before because even though not everyone agreed with Pym for Charles to enter Parliament with an armed body of men ran contrary to parliamentary rights and privileges….who needs fiction when reality has so many twists and turns?
de Lisle, Leander (2018). White King: Chalres I. Traintor, Murderer, Martyr. London: Chatto and Windus
Purkiss. Diane. (2007). The English Civil War. London:Harper Essentials
Aside from the fact that spelling remonstrance is not straight forward its an interlude that heads me off in the direction of the English Civil War.
John Coke was born in 1563. He held office in the reign of James I and Charles I. He is sometimes described as “the last Tudor.” He was from a Derbyshire family. His father Richard Coke of Trusley married a Sacheverel heiress. He ensured that John was well educated first at Westminster and then at Cambridge. From there in 1593 he travelled in Europe – ostensibly on a sort of early Grand Tour, in practice it would appear that he had gained the patronage of Sir Fulke Greville who was in turn part of the 2nd earl of Essex’s affinity – demonstrating not only was it a question of what you knew but who you knew to make progress in Tudor and Stuart times – and was merrily admiring views and recruiting agents.
By 1629 Sir John, industriousness and loyalty aside, had accrued sufficient funds to purchase Melbourne Hall in Derbyshire which had formerly, and somewhat bizarrely, been in the ownership of the Bishops of Carlisle according to Burke. Initially he leased the property but this expired during his tenure so was able to purchase Melbourne Hall through act of Parliament. He set about renovating it at vast expense but rather than the more modern European style favoured by his royal master he adhered to a more Elizabethan looking interior. In order to ensure that he got exactly what he wanted he sent very detailed instructions to his builder – 32 pages of instructions.
George Villiers, pictured left, was not the scion of a powerful family but he had received the kind of education, at his mother’s insistence, that a courtier required. His good looks had attracted James I’s attention. This was enough to ensure that the enemies of Robert Carr, the king’s then favourite, paid to raise George to the post of the King’s cup bearer. The rest as they say, is history.

Elizabeth I died on 24 March 1603 in Richmond. She had been on the throne for nearly forty-five years. Whilst the queen had prevaricated about naming her heir, Sir Robert Cecil could see that her health was deteriorating and began making the necessary arrangements with King James VI of Scotland the son of Mary Queen of Scots. He was the great-grandson of Margaret Tudor.
19 July 1603 Sir Walter Raleigh arrested. The key event of 1603 was the so-called the Main Plot which evolved into a secondary Bye Plot that came to light in 1604 (I’ve blogged about them before). Essentially with the Main Plot there was some question as to whether James was the best person to be king Henry VII had other descendants who were English. The one we think of at this time is usually Arbella Stuart who was implicated in the Main Plot which saw Sir Walter Raleigh sent to the Tower. The plan was to depose James and put Arbella in his place. The Bye Plot was much more straight forward. It simply involved kidnapping James and forcing him to suspend the laws against Catholics.
Nunnington Hall in Ryedale is built on land originally owned by St Mary’s Abbey in York. The hall is fifteenth and sixteenth century in origin –so no medieval links to feasting or law should you pause a while in the double height hallway with its baronial fireplace but its perhaps unsurprising to discover that there was a building here in the thirteenth century.
The history of Nunnington’s owners is lively. It passed into the Parr family when Maud Green married Sir Thomas Parr of Kendal. As the elder of the two co-heresses it was Maud who acquired Nunnington. Maud died in 1532. Her son William inherited the property but unfortunately for him the then Marquess of Northampton became involved in Wyatt’s Rebellion of 1553. The bid to replace mary Tudor with Lady Jane Grey failed. Jane had not plotted but her father the duke of Suffolk had become involved. He, his daughter and his son-in-law were promptly executed. Parr was fortunate to suffer only attainder. Nunnington was forfeit to the Crown.
Nunnington was leased out to various families including Elizabeth I’s physician but in 1655, after the English Civil War, the manor was sold to Ranald Graham. He was succeeded by his nephew Sir Richard Graham of Netherby in Cumbria. He was made Viscount Preston and Baron Esk in 1681. He would also marry into the Howard family when he married the daughter of the earl of Carlisle. He served under Charles II and James II. He even did a turn as English ambassador in France. In 1689 his luck turned when he sided with James II rather than William of Orange and James’ daughter Mary. Graham was captured on his way across the Channel. Even as his escape vessel was boarded he made every attempt to destroy incriminating documents. He was attainted and sentenced to death in 1691. The sentence was never carried out because Queen Mary spared him when his daughter Catherine pleaded for his life- it may also have helped that he did turn evidence against his fellow conspirators- but his lands were parcelled out to, amongst others, the earl of Carlisle. It was just as well that it had all been kept in the family because Richard was allowed home and his son Edward eventually inherited Graham’s estate although it was his daughter Catherine by then Lady Widdrington who ultimately inherited Nunnington when her nephew Charles died – the names give an indication of continued Graham loyalty to the Stuart cause…though how the Jacobites felt about Lord Preston giving evidence against them is another matter entirely.
I must admit that there are a several of things that I love about Chatsworth aside from the stunning backdrop and the Emperor Fuuntain – always interesting when the art exhibition is in residence; the hunting dogs situated in the Elizabethan courtyard (though they’ve shifted during renovation work), the intricate carvings of Grinling Gibbons, artifacts belonging to Mary Queen of Scots and a delightful portrait of Magdalena de Vos painted by her father Cornelius.
The eldest daughter of Charles I and his queen, Henrietta Maria was born in 1631. In France it was the norm for the eldest daughter of the king to be called Madame Royale. Charles gave his daughter the title Princess Royal starting a new English tradition in 1642 that the ruling monarch may give this title to his/her eldest daughter but the caveat is that the title remains with the holder for life and no one else can have it during that time.
She was in England in 1660 because she’d pawned her jewels and returned home. Sadly she caught small pox and died on 24 December – I did try to find a cheerier metaphorical advent image but the pretty little girl that Van Dyck captured in oils didn’t really have a happy ever after. For more about the picture of Mary, aged five or six at the time, which can be viewed at Hampton Court, click
With only two days of my metaphorical advent calendar to go I really should be getting a bit more festive – so with no further ado allow mw to introduce the turkey – property of one Samuel Pepys. In 1660 Mrs Pepys was troubled by the art of spit roasting the aforementioned bird. In fact you can read every single 23rd December that Pepys ever recorded should you feel the urge by following the link:
Today’s figure is Catherine of Modena, James II’s wife because it was on the 9th December 1688 that James II lost the Battle of Reading which marked the moment when his son-in-law William of Orange effectively deposed the hapless Stuart with the help of his people. James having deposited his wife and son with his French cousin Louis XIV returned and the whole sorry matter dragged on for a while longer as he tried to hang on to the throne. He was caught by his son-in-law there was some umming and ahhing whilst the English worked out what to do with him and then they just quietly let him go rather than having to go through the tricky business of trying and executing him as they had done with his father.