Stuart heirs – the children of Elizabeth of Bohemia

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Finally, as promised – Elizabeth, daughter of James I of England, and her husband Frederick V of the Palatinate had thirteen children but she outlived most of them.

Elizabeth denied that she was pregnant with her first child, Frederick Henry, named after her husband and her brother who was born on 1 January 1614. As his father’s heir Frederick Henry went with his father to Prague when the elector accepted the Crown of Bohemia in 1618. When Prague was threatened by the Holy Roman Emperor’s armies, Frederick Henry went to safety with his Uncle Louis – and his mother’s jewels – in Holland but he didn’t rejoin the rest of his family until the Spring of 1621 in exile in The Hague.

Frederick Henry set up a court for their children at Leiden and it was there that the prince was educated before being sent to Leiden University. By 1629 he was coming to the end of his studies. He expressed a wish in January of that year to see the captured Spanish treasure fleet which was at Amsterdam. The prince and his father, who was home from campaigning to try to regain the Palatinate, travelled there on the 7 January. By the time they arrived darkness was falling, it was both foggy and cold. As they crossed the Haarrlemmermeer there was an accident with a barge and Frederick Henry drowned.

Elizabeth’s second child, Charles Louis, born in 1617, became heir to the Palatinate. Charles Louis and is mother had a difficult relationship after Charles regained the electorship in 1648. First of all, he supported Parliament during England’s Civil War – possibly because he blamed the king for not supporting Frederick and his family earlier. Secondly, he refused to pay his mother’s jointure and she was deeply in debt by that time . There were other irritations for Elizabeth to bear, so the relationship was strained. He was unhappily married to Charlotte of Hesse-Kessel and took the decision to divorce her. It was her children who inherited the Palatinate.

Elizabeth, born in 1618, was left with her grandmother, Louise Juliana, as was Charles Louis, when Frederick became king of Bohemia. It was Louise who fled with her grandchildren to Brandenburg in 1621 when the Holy Roman Empire invade the Palatinate. She only joined her mother in Holland in 1627. Elizabeth enjoyed an extensive classical education as well learning music, dancing and painting. She wrote letters to Descartes from 1643 until his death; refused a proposal because it would have meant changing her faith to Catholicsm and became an abbess at the Lutheran convent at Herford in Germany in 1667.

Rupert of the Rhine was born in 1619 while Elizabeth was Queen of Bohemia. When the family fled Prague he was discovered in his cradle in the royal nursery, on the verge of being forgotten.

Maurice of the Palatinate. Maurice is closely associated with his brother Rupert. He served in his uncle’s army during the English Civil War. He died in 1652, when as vice-admiral of his brother’s fleet, he was court in a hurricane and went down with his ship.

Louise Hollandine was born in 1622. It is said that she was in love with James Graham, 1st Marquess of Montrose. In 1657 she fled to France, converted to Catholicism and became a nun. She went on to become the Abbess of Maubuisson Abbey. Her mother attempted to have her arrested before she lief Holland and never recovered from her daughter’s decision. She received no mention in Elizabeth of Bohemia’s will.

Edward, who was educated in France, married Anne Gonzaga who was a French aristocrat. She had claimed to be married to her cousin, the Duke of Guise, but he denied it. The pair married when Edward converted to Catholicism and lived comfortably on her inheritance. He died in 1663 after fathering three daughters.

Henritte Marie was born in 1626 and married, in 1651, into the Hungarian royal family. She died unexpectedly at the end of the same summer.

John Philip John Philip was educated at the French court along with his brother Edward. When they took Charles Louis prisoner, the pair were sent back to The Hague at their mother’s request. In 1646, John Philip killed a French exile and refused to answer for his actions in front of a Dutch court. it was said that Jacques de l’Epinay had boasted of a romantic liaison with John Phillip’s older sister, Louise, and also with Elizabeth of Bohemia. He chose to become a mercenary, in the service of the Duke of Lorraine. he was killed in 1650 at the Battle of Rethel.

Charlotte was born in 1628 and died at the beginning of January 1631.

Sophia married Ernest Augustus, Elector of Hanover. Her son George became George I of Great Britain after her death. From 1701 onwards she was heiress to the throne under the Act of Settlement. Charles II courted her but she thought he was after her mother’s political support.

Gustavus Adolphus was born in 1632. He was Elizabeth and Frederick’s last child. Frederick died the same year. Gustavus died in 1641 when he was 8-years-old.

The tragic tale of Elizabeth of Bohemia’s eldest son

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Frederik Hendrik, Prince of Orange *oil on panel *64.5 x 53.8 cm *inscribed c.l.: ‘Prince Maurice Aetatis 15. A1629 Prince Maurice’ et ‘Fridericus Henricus Aetatis. 15 A. 1629.

Frederick Henry of the Palatinate was born on 1 January 1614. His birth was celebrated by cannon fire in Heidelberg and bonfires in Scotland. Elizabeth of Bohemia was James VI/I’s daughter and at that time, soon after the death of her brother Prince Henry, the succession did not look as secure as it once had. Elizabeth’s surviving brother, Charles, was a sickly child and it was not certain that he would live to adulthood. The birth of Frederick ensured that there would be a male heir to the Scottish and English thrones. King James was so pleased that he granted his daughter 12,000 crowns per year.

In 1618, when his father became King of Bohemia, Frederick Henry accompanied his parents to Prague for their coronation and in 1620 went on a royal progress through Bohemia and part of the Palatinate. Within two years, the Holy Roman Emperor made war on the Bohemians who had chosen to elect a Protestant king rather than a Catholic overlord. Frederick was sent with his uncle, Louis, and bags containing his mother’s jewels to safety in Holland. It was May 1621 before the prince was reunited with his parents who were now exiles without a kingdom.

As the number of the prince’s siblings increased, a royal nursery was set up at Leiden, known as the Prince’s court. Frederick’s education continued at Leiden University while his parents suggested possible matches for him that would see the Palatinate returned if not to their hands, at least to the Prince Palatinate.

The prince had finished his education when the West India Company, of which Elizabeth was a shareholder, captured a Spanish treasure fleet. The teenager expressed a desire to see it. He and his father, who was not campaigning against the Holy Roman Empire at that time, travelled to Amsterdam. They approached the port as darkness fell. It was cold and foggy. While crossing the Haalemmermeer there was an accident. The Elector was rescued but his son was not. Despite Frederick’s attempts to locate his heir, the body, which had become tangled in rigging, was not found until the next day.

Frederick Henry was privately buried at the Kloosterkerk in The Hague.

Bayeux stitch – laying and couching with wool thread.

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It’s also called laid and couched work and it was something I looked at when exploring the development of Opus Anglicanum. I have grown to like the stitch very much.No thread is wasted on the back of the design unlike satin stitch which uses as much thread on the back as the front. I’m less keen on the wool which unravels if you pull it too hard – though that might have more to do with me than the wool.

The most famous example of this type of work is the Bayeux Tapestry, hence the name but it was used for household items and to decorate clothes. My example, is taken from Tanya Bentham – and if you check you will notice that I have not yet embroidered little scales made from stitched circles on the dragon’s leg – mainly because it turns out I’m not good at circles. I also have some pressing to do- so I’d probably be lucky to be allowed to sweep the floor in a medieval embroidery workshop. However, I’ve enjoyed doing it and am pleased with the end product.

With the passage of time different kinds of stitches became popular. Crewel work also uses wool threads but it is much simpler than the intricate style of Opus Anglicanum. As with everything, it goes through phases of popularity. I rather like this modern take on crewel work -designed by Nichola Jarvis. It took a lot less time to complete that the laid and couched work although it potentially looks as though it should have taken longer… and yes this one needs pressing as well.

And that leads me to Beverley Minster. When I visited last year there was a set of embroidered panels on display telling the story of St John of Beverley. I rather liked the combination of fabric and stitched patterns.

Salomon de Caus

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De Caus was a French Huguenot who was an engineer and a garden designer. He arrived in England in about 1610 where he soon found himself in the employ of Anne of Denmark and Prince Henry. The former asked him to build aviaries for her birds as well as assorted fountains and grottos. He worked on the design for Somerset House’s garden and also for Hatfield House where Lord Cecil wanted a new fountain. His work at Richmond Palace was for Prince Henry – who also wanted to improve water supplies. His most famous employer was Elizabeth’s husband Frederick, Elector Palatinate who commissioned him to create gardens at Heidelberg.

De Caus’s inspirations came from his travels to Italy during the 1590s. IN 1601 he worked for the governor of the Spanish Netherlands and in 1605 he was described as a ‘fountain engineer’. He travelled widely -even so far as Persia.

As well as gardening it is thought that he was responsible for tutoring Prince Henry in mathematics and drawing. Nadine Akkerman also states that he taught Elizabeth art and music … the year after he had designed Anna’s French garden in Greenwich”. La Perspective avec la raison des ombres et Miroirs, published in 1612, was dedicated to the Prince who died at the end of the year. Elizabeth would continue to employ de Caus until 1619 not only as a designer of gardens but also a designer of masques.

He had returned to France by 1624 where he wrote a book abut sun dials.

Luke Morgan, Nature as Model: Salomon de Caus and Early Seventeenth Century Landscape design.

https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/777804

https://www.schloss-heidelberg.de/en/interesting-amusing/figures/salomon-de-caus

Guest Post Monday – Robin Unhooded: And the Death of a King

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I am delighted to welcome Peter Staveley to the History Jar today. We first began to correspond in 2018 on the subjects of William Rufus, the de Clare family, Walter Tirel and paucity of primary sources. At the time I didn’t realise where his researches were taking him. As with all things Robin Hood, history, legend and evidence are intertwined and open to interpretation. This is probably the point that I should add that I am completely biased on the subject because my dad used to read me a version based on the Geste of Robin Hood. It has nothing to do with evidence or being rational. It was my favourite book of all time, ever, and I can still hear my father’s voice beginning, “The little bandy-legged archer in a scarlet surcoat, and a shining helmet a size too large for him, skipped forward and shouted: ‘What d ye lack, sir?'”. I can’t describe how bitterly disappointed I was, aged 7, to discover that Nottingham Castle was no longer a medieval fortress but had been turned into a seventeenth century mansion thanks to the English Civil War and William Cavendish.

So without further ado over to Peter:

To delve into the myth of Robin Hood, we must start, ironically, with some myth-busting. The first ballads and gests, set in writing in the 15th century but based on earlier oral tales, make no mention of Robin Hood in the time of King Richard and Prince John (in fact the only monarch mentioned is a King Edward but not too much weight should be put on that either!). You will also find no Maid Marian, no Friar Tuck, no Crusades, no Merrie Men-led uprisings against Norman tyranny. Even the suggestion of robbing from the rich to give to the poor is only vaguely alluded to, it being more a case of stealing from the middle classes and church and keeping the proceeds! This Robin Hood was violent: picking fights with simple folk as well as nobles, slitting throats, cutting of heads with his sword (yes, he was also a fine swordsman) and sticking them onto his longbow.

In fact, all modern depictions of the forest-dwelling gentleman thief are far removed from his origin stories. Our current perceptions of Robin of Loxley (as he is sometimes known) and ‘related’ characters were formed a mere 206 years ago, first appearing in Walter Scott’s imaginative1819 novel lvanhoe, followed by American Howard Pyle’s very popular 1883 children’s book The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. Finally, Hollywood and TV producers seized upon the Lincoln green-clothed figure and brought him into the 20th and 21st centuries, and yet still always firmly depicted at the end of the 12th.

Like millions around the world, these stories have held my fascination for years. But it was

the mystery behind the myriad contradicting variations of Robin that compelled me to take a proper look into the folklore. As I began to dig, not one candidate proffered by either academic or amateur over the last century – taken from surviving records with references to Hood, Hod, Hud and so on – seemed to be worthy inspiration for such an iconic legend. They were either petty criminals who had taken his name in the hope of being labelled a ‘good thief’ or were involved in major insurrections for or against the Crown.

Like a lightning bolt, it struck me that Robin had not been found simply because he was not there to be found. Or, more precisely, he was not ‘then’…So began the premise for my new book: ROBIN UnHOODed: And the Death of a King. My search has taken me further back in time than anyone else, to the oral-based stories that became locked into the psyche of the early medieval period. From these, it could be gleaned that I needed to look for a man from somewhere in South Yorkshire, possibly with connections to a Loxley village, perhaps with pretensions to a noble birth, yet having cause to be a fugitive, and likely in possession of the martial and personal skills to become a hero of the common people and, eventually, a legend. Surprising as it may seem, I uncovered just such a man. Furthermore, as recorded by none other than the contemporary Archbishop of Canterbury, this experienced assassin could, somewhat remarkably be placed in the New Forest at the same time that ‘Rufus’

– King William II- was killed there during a deer hunt – a conspiratorial assassination involving among others, Robin, Prince Henry and the de Clare brothers

It took several years for me to gather and examine – with a clinical eye – all the known documentation around this event. Just as surprisingly, I also found many persuasive connections between the untimely death of Rufus in the forest and this earlier Robin providing much smoke without fire and just too many coincidences by far.

Full of groundbreaking hypotheses, my studies encompass the likes of Guy of Gisborne, the Sheriff of Nottingham and Maid Marian, who they might have been, and how they fit into this new timeline. Finally, the death and resting place of the famous outlaw have also been muddied by vastly conflicting claims. What I explore and attempt to settle in the second part of my book are the reasons behind the fake grave in Kirklees Priory and precisely where my 11th century contender could be laid to rest…and why. They lead us to previously unknown ecclesiastical involvement, with a murderous Prioress and her lover specifically identified. It is a true story just as potent and bloody as the original written offerings.

In summary, ROBIN UnHOODed: And the Death of a King presents you with a whole new world in a late 11th-century setting. It is a work of historical detection that shakes up our ideas about Robin Hood and unhoods the original man behind the legend. And the

findings are no less exciting or mesmerising than everything we thought we knew. 

ROBIN UnHOODed: And the Death of a King is published by Austin Macauley (www.austinmacauley.com), Paperback £16.99 (also available in hardback and Kindle from Amazon, Waterstones, WH Smith, Barnes and Noble and all good book retailers).

Robert Peake the Elder

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Portrait of Prince Henry Frederick ...
Robert Peake the elder, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

I’m very much enjoying my current research into the life of Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia as a child. A particular delight has been the work of Robert Peake the Elder who died in 1619 and who was commissioned to paint several portraits of Elizabeth as well as her brothers, Henry Frederick and Charles .

Peake was an apprentice of the miniaturist Nicholas Hilliard. He became a freeman of the Company of Goldsmiths in 1576. By the 1590s he was a fashionable portrait painter at the court of Elizabeth I.

In 1607 he was appointed sergeant-painter to King James I having already been appointed, in 1604, as picture maker to Prince Henry. It was his task to paint the portraits that were sent as gifts to foreign kings and princes. And when not required to do that he was responsible for making sure that the royal collection was up to scratch and if the queen wanted some scenery for a masque that was his job as well.

After Henry’s death in 1612, Peake moved to the household of Henry and Elizabeth’s younger brother, Charles. He died in 1619, the same year as Anne of Denmark. His death and the death of Nicholas Hilliard (1619) saw a change in the way portraits were painted. The style would become increasingly baroque rather than full of the detail viewers often associate with the works of Holbein, Hilliard and Peake – but they also became more fluid. The pictures of Princess Elizabeth, lovely as they may be, as quite stiff in comparison to the work of later artists.

Auerbach, Erna. Tudor artists; a study of painters in the royal service and of portraiture on illuminated documents from the accession of Henry VIII to the death of Elizabeth I. (London: University of London, Athlone Press, 1954)

Strong, Ro., The Elizabethan Image.

Nottinghamshire before 1066 and a Friday afternoon meander across my bookshelf.

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By Richard Croft, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12966437

I’d forgotten how wonderful the Ordinance Survey historical maps and guides can be. The Ancient Britain incarnation of the map reminded me about the Anglo-Saxon Church at Carlton in Lindrick. It also reassured me that I hadn’t missed anything of national significance, listing as it does only Cresswell Crags (prehistoric) and the Anglo-Saxon Cross in Stapleford Churchyard as items of interest.

There’s not a lot above ground from Ancient Nottinghamshire’s past – many settlements have been constantly inhabited, but at Carlton in Lindrick, near Worksop, within there is a church that dates from about 860AD. Not much of the original church remains. It was certainly extended during the tenth century and the west tower is, apparently, a good example of a Saxon west tower. Someone listed it as one of the top three west church tower (the Saxons did other varieties of tower) – though true to form I can’t find the source of my quote…an unfortunate habit that’s tripped me up for several decades now, you’d think I’d have learned.

Inevitably I did some more digging about and there are 400 or so churches in Britain which have some Anglo-Saxon fabric or which sixty or so come in the form of late Saxon church towers. This is a little complicated by the fact that when it came to church building after the Conquest, it may have been the Normans who gave the orders but it was the Saxons who did the building. And let’s not forget all those later additions stuck on various churches by patrons determined to ensure a) their place in Heaven, b) that everyone should know how wealthy they were and c) because keeping up with the Joneses isn’t a new phenomena.

Anyway back to Carlton in Lindrick’s tower – which may have served as a look out tower and place of refuge as well as part of the church. It’s the only tower of its kind in Nottinghamshire although places like Littleborough also contain fragments of their Saxon past. Both places contain distinctive Saxon herring-bone brickwork.

Part of the reason behind Carlton’s prestigious appearance may lay in a clue provided by the Domesday Book. Before 1066, six thegns each had a hall at Carlton, or at least nearby. A thegn was somewhere between a freeman and a member of the nobility. The thegns worked together to build their church but there were also two mills at Carlton. But who the six thegns were and what happened to them is another matter entirely.

I’m still wading around Saxon cross shafts in Nottinghamshire and the tympanum at Southwell. Not to mention trying to remember which churches I’ve visited in the county with the distinctive narrow faces with rounded, or even triangular, tops. So far I’ve got Southwell on my list and Carlton – which isn’t entirely helpful. A quick google revealed All Saints Church at Babworth which I know I’ve never been to. All of which means, I think, a delve into Arthur Mee’s King’s England for Nottinghamshire which is fortuitous in its own way – he’s a Nottinghamshire lad, who I am very much looking forward to writing about.

Spare the rod and spoil the child…and the importance of godly parents

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Eleanor Hay – Lady Eleanor Livingston, Countess of Linlithgow

Well it’s a bit different but it’s almost inevitable that the raising of sixteenth and seventeenth century children should bring me to this point. Fletcher records that there are 22 printed guides for parents, often drawing on the Bible, advocating physical punishment. One went so far as to say that it purged corruption from the child – always good to find a Puritan viewpoint (forget Romantic images of children trailing clouds of glory), the Stuart period was definitely more into the sinfulness of infants. And let’s be clear this was applied to girls as well as boys.

Not that beating was the first recourse of a Protestant household. It was essential to bring a child up in fear and obedience. This meant that manners were an essential part of childhood education, as they had always been. Silence could be added to the list – seen and not heard was an essential during church services. Mothers and nurses were expected to teach young children their prayers, to read their Bible and the correct behaviour in a place of worship. In an age associated with cheap print, catechisms of questions and answers were readily available for the authoritative mother.

For Elizabeth Stuart born at the end of the sixteenth century and raised by her governess Lady Eleanor Livingston there was the additional problem of Eleanor’s faith. She was known to be a Catholic. The Presbyterian Church were alarmed by the way she raised her own five children, accusing her of keeping them from attending services at one point. The thought that a royal princess might be indoctrinated with Catholic beliefs was a source of friction between king and Church.

Even worse, Elizabeth, a girl, was expected to learn obedience and Eleanor Livingston was not obedient. Her husband, Andrew Livingston, 7th Lord Livingston was Protestant so it seemed to the Scottish Church that his wife ought to accept his faith. They even arranged for a chaplain from Stirling to teach her. She ended up being accused of obduracy. Eleanor was not a good role model for obedience, especially as she challenged male superiority of thought and mind in her continued refusal to accept Presbyterianism. Whatever else she might have been Princess Elizabeth’s governess was neither weak nor passive.

And for whatever reason, James VI concluded that the Livingstons were the best people to raise his daughters. The nursery at Linlithgow was closer to Dunfermline than Stirling, so although it was difficult for Queen Anne to visit her son it was much easier for her to visit Elizabeth, and a short lived sister Margaret. Anne was also firm friends with Eleanor and while James would not permit his wife to oversee the royal nursery he did care for her at the start of their marriage. He might not have expected that in 1601 Anne would become Catholic, further complicating the business of raising the royal brood.

Interested in the Winter Queen? Block of seven Zoom classes about the life and times of Elizabeth Stuart beginning 20 January 2025.

The formation of the Anglo-Scottish border – part three.

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Smailholm

My last post saw Henry II ascend the throne in England and David I die in Scotland. David was predeceased by his eldest son, Henry Earl of Northumberland. His son, Malcolm the Maiden inherited the throne. The nickname has nothing to do with unknightlyness- think more poor health, religious fervour and an early death before marriage. He was succeeded by his brother, William the Lion. Ultimately William, who spent time at Henry II’s court and who backed Henry’s sons in their rebellion against their father, was forced to recognise Henry as his feudal overlord thanks to various unfortunate occurrences in Scotland, including a rebellion in Gallowegians. William was even forced to pay Henry for the English army in Scotland and had a bride selected for him.

As an aside Ermengarde de Beaumont was part of the extended Plantagenet family thanks to Henry I’s sizeable illegitimate family. The terms of the wedding were agreed according to the Treaty of Falaise. And while we’re on the subject William’s mother was Ada de Warenne whose father was one of William the Conqueror’s most trusted advisers while her mother who had something of a scandalous past was descended from the kings of France – the House of Dunkeld was looking decidedly normanised one way and another.

Anyway, when Richard the Lionheart came to the throne there was a shift in power. he just wanted to go on Crusade so he accepted 10,000 marks from the Scots in return for The Quitclaim of Canterbury – which basically meant that the Scots were inn charge of themselves and that Richard agreed that he wasn’t their overlord. For a time the status quo was maintained. It was bad form to attack the kingdoms of monarchs who were away on holy war and if good manners weren’t sufficient, the threat of excommunication carried more weight.

However, the reign of John and his son Henry III saw a continuation of the tensions on the northern border of England. Where exactly did one kingdom end and the other begin? In 1200, for instance William claimed Northumberland as part of Scotland when they met at Lincoln. The Treaty of Norham followed in 1203 and in 1209 when John arrived on the border with an army, William submitted before an invasion took place. In 1210, William’s heir, Alexander, gave John an oath of loyalty at Alnwick – but in England the political situation was becoming more tense.

Alexander became king in 1214 but the following year saw the First Barons War and Magna Carta in England. In the north, barons like Eustace De Vesci, Lord of Alnwick (The one who is famously said to have substituted a sex worker for his wife in the bed of King John. The said wife being Margaret of Scotland, an illegitimate daughter of William the Lion.) chose to offer their allegiance to the Scottish king rather than John. It was 1216 before John was able to drive the Scots from Northumbria. And that’s all without mentioning Carlisle which found itself under siege.

Alexander II came to terms with Henry III’s regency government while Alexander III married Henry’s daughter Margaret. Their respective ages were 10 and 11. Henry III began plotting to seize overlordship of Scotland – the young king and his wife were kept apart, seized by opposing factions and Margaret wrote that she hated Scotland. Eventually though, Alexander attained his majority and the couple went on to have three children who all predeceased their father.

Alexander spent the decade after Margaret’s death as a widower but without an adult male heir to succeed him he was urged to take a new bride. So, he married Yolande de Dreux in 1285. He died following a fall from his horse the fallowing year on his way to visit her. The new queen of Scotland was his granddaughter the Maid of Norway who died before she arrived in Scotland.

There were various claimants to the crown and Edward I claimed that he should choose by right of being overlord of the Scottish monarchs – just let’s not go there – these last three posts have demonstrated that it all depended on who had the most stable kingdom and the biggest army – and yes I know that the Earl of Huntingdon owed feudal duty to the English king and no this isn’t the time to get into that kind of discussion. And it was Edward I who gave orders for the boundary to be identified by 6 Scottish knights and 6 English knights – who were required to travel its length, not once but twice.

Ultimately the thirteenth century ended with armies crossing the border one way or the other. While the border was established the next 300 years saw national armies on occasion but on a regional level there were raids, looting and kidnappings…in which became a way of life.