Who would have thought that embroidery was something that an armourer might worry about? Clearly Sir Geoffrey Luttrell pictured at the start of the post would have understood. Records show that artists were commissioned to paint various flags and horse trappings for jousts – much less expensive than employing a posse of embroiderers and quicker as well. These might be stencilled or stamped, especially if many of the same thing was required.
Sir Geoffrey’s horse seems to be covered from the end of his ears to his tail. This item is a caparison or even a trapper. Clearly it was so that the audience at a joust was able to recognise each of the contestants and they clearly had their value on ceremonial occasions. Quilted caparisons became popular during the crusades as a practical part of its protection from arrows. The horse might also be equipped with a chainmail trapper – in which case a cloth draped over the mail also helped the horse not to overheat.
Alternative sources of information about what the well-dressed-medieval-horse-about-town was wearing include Froissart’s Chronicles which depict decorated horse trappings from the fifteenth century while Les Tres Riches Heures depicts 14th century trappings. I may admit to looking forward to revisiting several of my Books of Hours texts to see how much embroidery I can spot in the illustrations. Elaborate illustrations reveal tassels, as well as jagged or leaf like edges. The same illustrations depict decorative reins. Of course, my difficulty is then to find the associated images to illustrate this post…we’ll start with Froissart and the French jousts of St Ingelvert and the Salisbury Museum’s medieval illustration of a horse harness not to mention a rather wonderful tasselled saddle cloth which is just visible.
Samian ware is the fancy red pottery associated with the Romans – or as they would have called it Terra Sigillata. Most of the fine table ware that turns up in England comes from Gaul but it was also made in Colchester. The latter was not as durable as the crockery from Gaul because the clay wasn’t the same quality. The red colour comes from a mineral in the clay called illite.
The pot at the start of the post was made in or around Colchester in about 1705 AD, during the Roman period depicts gladiators including ventures who fought animals and a lightly armed retiarius. It was buried as part of someone’s grave goods and rediscovered by the Victorians and earned itself the name ‘the Colchester Vase”. It was thought for many years to have been an import but its now recognised as a locally produced vase, made by a master craftsman, to perhaps celebrate a special event – perhaps the self same gladiatorial games depicted on the vase.
Perhaps rather less grand, but rather more fun is this duck’s head spout which can be found in Derby’s museum. It was made by a Romano-British potter and was probably fired in one of Derby’s Roman kilns.
And finally – meet Bert Oswald, found near Bird Oswald on Hadrian’s Wall. The stone figure is a Genius Cucullatus, or ‘spirit in the hood’. They turn up on carvings in groups of three, so Bert may be missing a couple of friends. The spirits are thought to be associated with babies and children because of their hoods or with healing. The one at Bird Oswald is carved from stone but they were also made from clay or from metal.
To my horror, all my other photos of Roman pottery, Hadrian’s Wall and various mosaics are trapped on an external hard drive that I can’t access.
Pope Innocent IV AnonymousUnknown author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Matthew Paris, who wrote the Chronica Major, recorded in 1246 that the Pope Innocent IV had noticed that English bishops and priests were well kitted out with copes and mitres embroidered with gold thread in the ‘most desirable fashion’. Having discovered their source and described England as a ‘garden of delights’ the pope write to the abbots of the Cistercian order and demanded similar payment for himself, noting that he rather liked the gold work. By 1295 the Vatican had more than 100 vestments described as Opus Anglicanum and the English royal family had found a new and well received gift for the Holy Father of the day and nothing about the robes and vestments were cheap.
The Ascoli Cope at Ascoli Piceno, Italy belonged to Pope Gregory X and is a fine example of English work. It was a gift to him from King Edward I who also gave Nicholas IV and Boniface VIII lots of lovely embroidered goodies.
Survivals across Europe depict some of the richness of the vestments, not to mention the skills of the embroiderers. Samuel Pepys better known for his diaries and love of a buxom wench than his historical interest left papers to Magdalene College, Cambridge which included a book of drawings dating from the fourteenth and fifteenth century, including pattern sheets for medieval glaziers – there are designs for animals and birds, people, angels, the Virgin Mary, and various decorative motifs. During the Victorian period the idea that the designs might have been used for embroiderers was discounted but the images on Gothic stained glass windows are echoed by the glittering vestments worn by the clergy.
The idea behind a model book is that all the creative crafts could draw from the same designs and adapted according to the craft whether it was embroidery, window manufacture or illuminated manuscripts. You name the decorative craft – the chances are that a model book would have been useful, especially if you wanted to create the same design on several occasions – which would help reduce production time. Not everyone could afford to arrange for an artist or illustrator to draw the design on the fabric before it was embroidered.
The Göttingen Model Book which dates to about 1450 provides instruction on penmanship and illustration for the creation of foliage – which could be adapted by embroiderers. Just as today the model books were designed to help artisans learn a skill. Seven year apprenticeships were based on observation and ‘learning on the job’ but model and pattern books were essential for the transmission of images. They would also have been helpful for wealthy patrons who wanted to commission vestments. And, by the fourteenth century wealthy patrons wanted their own clothes richly embroidered as well.
It was really only during the sixteenth century that pattern books became widely available – and lets face it anyone who could afford it decorated everything that could be stitched but by then the heyday of English work was over.
Ascoli Cope, early 20th century (original dated 13th century)
Italian,
Watercolor on paper; 24 1/2 × 49 in. (62.2 × 124.5 cm) Framed: 26 in. × 50 7/8 in. × 1 1/2 in. (66 × 129.2 × 3.8 cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Gift of J. Pierpont Morgan, 1906 (06.1313)
http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/462871
Its been a while since I looked at anything ecclesiastical but since my Zoom class is currently exploring Opus Anglicanum, or English work, I thought that it was about time to look at some church furniture- cope chests – as pictured at York.
A cope is essentially a cloak. The word derives from the Latin cappa meaning cloak or mantle. It originally had a hood – which let’s face it a hood is more useful than a piece of material that looks like a shield and was meant to mimic the shape of the hood – as found on copes up until the twentieth century. The whole thing was originally held in place by a clasp or brooch but bands were introduced later to keep the semi-circular fabric closed.
The first written mention of a cope appears in the late 8th century but it was more an item of everyday wear for monks who wanted to keep warm while singing in the choir than a ritual robe worn by bishops (who presumably were also keen on keeping drafts at bay). The cope’s liturgical significance had already developed by the end of the 8th century but the garments worn by bishops were made of precious silks and heavily embroidered to reflect the bishop’s status, his patrons and of course the lives of Christ and the saints. There are a number of monumental effigies depicting sixteenth century bishops in their copes as well as more modern examples.
Somewhat surprisingly copes remained on the ecclesiastical dress code after the Reformation. The prayerbook of Edward VI depicts him with a group of bishops all dressed in their copes and mitres so that they are immediately identifiable. Problems arose about their use during the time of Charles I, mainly because the Episcopalian Archbishop Laud insisted that they be worn whereas the king’s puritan subjects felt the garment smacked of popishness. The cope disappeared during the Commonwealth period but was reintroduced at the Restoration in 1660.
Meanwhile, back in medieval England the precious textiles were too valuable to be folded – no one wanted wrinkles in their silk or for their gold thread to become worn. And so the cope chest evolved. They were semi circular or wedged, like a cheese, in shape allowing the cope to be laid flat and then gently folded side to middle in a wedge shape. Salisbury Cathedral’s cope chest is believed to be the oldest of the remaining English cope chests – it dates to 1244 and was thought to have been made to house a cope gifted to the cathedral by Henry III. There are seven medieval cope chests in England including the one at Salisbury. They were large items so only bigger foundations would have had the space for them. Wells, Gloucester and Westminster each have one while York has two York’s is the finest – well I would think that-but it has some very fine wrought iron strap work on its lid. There’s also a cope chest at Durham. Tewkesbury’s cope chest is a modern oak chest.
Copes are still in production but some of them are very different from their medieval counterparts, including the wonderful St Paul’s Cathedral Silver Jubilee cope designed by Beryl Dean.
Why not have a closer look by following the link, which opens in a new tab, and seeing how many of London’s churches and peculiars you can identify in addition to St Paul’s Cathedral. http://www.beryldean.org.uk/works/jubilee-cope/
The Picts, or ‘Painted People’ lived in Scotland, north of the Firth of Forth during the early Middle Ages. They were a society formed of a warrior elite and a lower farming class. Most of what we know about them is because of the Romans. The Picts themselves left no written records of their own. However, they did leave elaborate carved artwork on monumental or symbol stones reflecting their Pagan beliefs of the fourth century and later journey to Christianity. Many of these stones, up to 20% of the them in fact, they can be found in Aberdeenshire. Nor is it clearly understood what the purpose of the stones might have been. It is possible that the stones might have been some kind of commemorative marker or an indication of land ownership.
Many stones can be found in or near churches where they were found, reflecting that sites of worship have a long and complicated history. The example at the top of the post can be found at the museum in Perth. The stone with the cross was found face down in St Madoes Churchyard in the Carse of Gowrie. It wasn’t the only Pictish Stone I came across. There’s another example at Dunkeld Cathedral – which happens to be on the opposite of the River Tay from all that remains of Birnam Wood, made famous in Shakespeare’s Scottish play – ‘he shall never vanquished be, until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him.’
James IV of Scotland (the Stirling Head on the left) became king when his father, James III, was killed at the Battle of Sauchieburn (by his own nobles) in 1488. At that time James IV was only 15 and the rebels who did away with his father planned to put him on the throne – with James IV’s agreement. The family relationships could only be described as strained. Our boy was a Renaissance Prince who spoke not only Scots and Gaelic but eight other languages. He’d been engaged to Cecily of York before the death of Edward IV. The proposed union was one of the factors that led to James III’s murder. It meant that when Henry Tudor approached the subject of a union with his own eldest daughter, Margaret Tudor (Stirling head far right), that James IV, was somewhat reticent in the first instant.
Eventually, after the difficulties arising from James’ support of Perkin Warbeck, Margaret’s youth, Lady Margaret Beaufort’s concerns about the Scottish king’s reputation with the ladies and problems over the size of Margaret’s dowry, Scottish envoys – headed by the Archbishop of Glasgow- finally arrived in England at the end of 1501 where they celebrated Christmas before signing the Treaty of Perpetual Peace on 24 January 1502. Margaret’s official betrothal to James took place the following day with Patrick Hepburn, 1st Earl of Bothwell acting as the king’s proxy.
On 27 June 1503, Margaret departed from Richmond Palace for her grandmother’s home at Collyweston near Stamford. From there she travelled north in the care of Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey and his wife Agnes. The newly weds met for the first time at Dalkeith before Margaret made her entry to Edinburgh and her new home at Holyrood. James, who was quite frankly a bit of a charmer, wooed his new wife and showed her every consideration. He understood the importance of romance but recognised also the necessity of courting his wife until she was of an age to bear his heir. After their wedding, he gifted his new bride with Kilmarnock and cut off his beard which Margaret did not much like. From Holyrood Margaret travelled to Linlithgow and Stirling.
Stirling had been James IV’s childhood home and it was he who turned the castle into a Renaissance palace. Margaret discovered now, if she hadn’t known before, that her husband’s illegitimate daughter, Margaret Stewart was housed in the royal nursery at Stirling along with her numerous half-siblings. The queen did not react well. Margaret Stewart was sent off to Edinburgh Castle with her household. Alexander Stewart, whose mother was Marion Boyd, would be sent off on a European tour to complete his education in preparation for his life in the Church. he was made Archbishop of St Andrews when he was 11-years-old. The boy would be tutored by Erasmus at Padua.
Margaret celebrated her fourteenth birthday at Linlithgow. By then the household of ladies that she had known since childhood had been largely dismissed and returned to England. The entertainments were lavish and her husband attentive but it would be more than two years until Margaret became a mother. By then James’ brother and heir, the Duke of Ross (also named James), was dead. Margaret’s son, James (quelle surprise) was born on 21 February 1507. Margaret had fulfilled her duty as a queen in providing her husband with an heir but her happiness was cut short when the baby died the following year at Stirling. She would go on to provide her husband with a daughter who died soon after her birth the same year. After that Margaret became pregnant almost every year during her marriage to James. James IV’s eventual heir, another James, was born in 1512 (Stirling Head in the middle)
Important treaties between countries were usually sealed with a marriage between the two parties. The subsequent children of the union were thought to strengthen the bond between nations. Marriage was a political transaction forging ties that would endure between nations.
Having randomly looked at Henry VII’s foreign policy with Scotland last week I thought that it would be sensible to consider why Henry’s policies in regard to his neighbours and Europe were established rather than doing what English kings did – i.e. going to war with the French and the Scottish at the first opportunity to win land, glory, possibly a pension from a foreign monarch who wanted you to go away, and to prove that God was smiling on you – oh yes, and to keep your nobility happy because they were bagging lots of loot and ransoms.
Henry Tudor’s claim to the throne which came from his mother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, was tenuous. God, or possibly the Stanley family, smile upon him at Bosworth on 22 August 1485 when he became king by right of arms – the last of England’s kings to do so. Early modern people regarded the victory as evidence that Henry’s claim to the throne had divine approval. However, kings had come and gone throughout the fifteenth century in a series of increasingly bloody encounters so Henry, his mother and their advisors needed to strengthen Henry’s position on his new throne if there was to be a Tudor dynasty. Setting aside Shakespeare’s assessment of Henry’s reign, the first exploration of his policies was made by Francis Bacon in 1622. Most famous in the twentieth century for their analysis of Henry’s rule were GR Elton and SB Chrimes.
He dated his reign from the day before the battle. This was standard procedure and meant that anyone who didn’t sue for pardon who fought for the Yorkists could be attainted of treason and executed or imprisoned. It also meant that those nobility who were pardoned were required to be on their best behaviour.
He secured the remaining royal members of the house of York. The 15 year old Earl of Warwick, son of George Duke ofClarence, was at Sheriff Hutton when Henry became king. He was moved to London where he spent a short time in Margaret Beaufort’s custodianship before being shifted to the Tower where he remained for the rest of his life. Margaret was assigned various other noble wards including the young Duke of Buckingham (who had his own claim to the throne). These wards could be educated under Margaret’s watchful eye, she had the right to organise their weddings into families known to be loyal to the Tudors and even better she retained control over their lands until they achieved their majorities.
Hey married Elizabeth of York, the daughter of Edward IV, as he had promised (on Christmas Day 1483 at Rennes Cathedral) before he invaded England but he was careful to ensure that he was the rightful king rather than ruling by right of his wife. For many people, it was Elizabeth as the eldest surviving child of Edward IV who was the rightful monarch. And it also raises the question that if Elizabeth was legitimate once more, then so were her missing brothers, presumed dead in the Tower. One of the consequences of Henry’s need to look as though he was king in his own right was that Elizabeth was not crowned until 25 November 1487
He and his new bride produced an heir in short order. Prince Arthur was born on 19 September 1486 – suggesting that his parents may have preempted the marriage ceremony, which also makes sense because as king Henry needed an heir to succeed him to a) demonstrate that God was still smiling on him, b) a male heir reduced the likelihood of further rebellion because it provided stability of succession.
Henry and his advisors developed a mythology about the Tudor claim to the throne that pre-dated the Plantagenets and legitimised his rule still further. The unification of the red rose of Lancaster and white rose of York was only one element of the way the Tudors spun their claim to the throne. Later Tudors continued the policy e.g. Shakespeare’s Richard III.
He rewarded his supporters, married off the female members of the Plantagenet family into safe hands so that they wouldn’t become focal points for later rebellion or packed them off into nunneries.
He established the Yeomen of the Guard – a 200 strong force to look after him and his family.
He had to deal with Yorkist plots – there were sponsored by foreign powers including Margaret of Burgundy. Henry’s foreign policy always had to come back to potential Yorkist threats which he needed to nullify through diplomacy rather than war (the royal piggy bank was empty).
He wanted established European royal families to recognise the Tudors as monarchs – so he was very keen on marriage alliances and also on doing things that defined him as a renaissance king…just like his neighbours.
He needed to fill the treasury. Foreign wars cost money – all those troops and equipment had to be paid for so Henry and his advisor’s used diplomacy to avoid war. He also tightened the way the realm was administered to ensure that he received everything that he was due. Depending on which Historian you read the use of Tudor administrators to ensure the taxes were collected was a new development but revisionist historians, point out that Edward IV established a very similar system and that Henry developed it to ensure that regional nobility was bypassed for a more centralised approach to government. It would have to be said that Henry VII had a strong grasp of his accounts and inspected them regularly.
He needed to ensure that so-called ‘over mighty subjects’ were put in their place and unable to go to war against him. It was another reason he didn’t want any foreign wars. Henry did not have a standing army, he was reliant on his nobles putting forces in the field but while the system of ‘bastard feudalism’ survived in which it was the nobles who offered regional patronage and reward and could call on armed forces – his own stability on the throne was a bit wobbly…so no wars if it could be helped.
No war also meant that although there were seven parliaments during the course of Henry’s reign he didn’t need to call on them to provide subsidies for war – which meant that parliament didn’t have that much leverage over the king.
The need for security, the appointment of men he could trust on his council- not to mention the delights of the Court of the Star Chamber- another cunning wheeze to keep the nobility in check- meant that Henry kept his crown for 24 years until his death in 1509. The policies did not prevent Yorkist plots or make him very popular with anyone but he ensured stability within his kingdom, promoted the economy and filled his treasury. When he died, largely unlamented, he left an heir who succeeded him with very little blood being shed – Empson and Dudley, Henry VII’s tax collectors were executed to show that a new reign had begun and that the repressive elements of the first Tudor’s rule were a thing of the past.
Henry VIII was tall, handsome and not quite 18…and what is a king to do with a full treasury to show that God is indeed smiling upon him…of course…start a war!
Those of you who know me, also know that I have a bit of a thing about 1745 and the Jacobite march to Derby – not to mention all those blue plaques announcing where the Stewart prince reseted his head. One of my heroes, it certainly isn’t the prince, is Lord George Murray. George was the sixth son of the 1st Duke of Atholl. He had taken the oath of allegiance to George II in 1739 having been pardoned for his part in the 1715 rising. When the prince arrived in Perth, Murray joined the prince. It wasn’t anything new. The Murray family and the earls of Atholl had been loyal to the Stewart cause throughout the seventeenth century. And let’s face it, after the deposition of James VII/II it was impossible to be loyal to two monarch, so there was some strategic ill health and geographical shenanigans to ensure that everyone- with a crown on their head- was as happy as possible. Even so, the 1st Duke, was careful to maintain his loyalty to the Hanoverians.
The eldest son of the duke had been killed at the Battle of Malplaquet in 1709. The new heir, William, Marquess of Tullibardine, was attained for his part in the 1715 Jacobite rising, took part in the 1719 rising and spent the next 25 years in exile. He would be one of the seven men who accompanied Bonnie Prince Charlie back to Scotland in 1745. By then he had lived a life of poverty and ill health. He was captured in the aftermath of the Battle of Culloden and died in the Tower of London.
The third son of the duke, James, inherited his brother’s title after William was attainted and would eventually become the duke. He was with the Duke of Cumberland’s army when it arrived in Edinburgh at the beginning of 1746. He ordered his tenants to join the Hanoverian colours. When he died he was succeed by his nephew, John, the son of Lord George Murray – brother number 6. Charles Murray was also a Jacobite and there had been another George who died during his first year.
Like many Scots, Lord George Murray had been well educated before joining the army in the Low Countries. Given that the Wars of the Spanish Succession were underway there was no need for him to become a mercenary despite his chosen career as a professional soldier. The duke had avoided taking part in the 1715 rising and his heir also fought on behalf of the Hanoverians (the family knew how to balance on a political tightrope). But Murray joined the Jacobite cause along with two other brothers having spent time in London – all three strictly forbidden in writing from joining the Stewart cause. After the rising he did not return to Scotland until 1739. His brother, Tullibardine, remained at the side of the Old Pretender.
When Bonnie Prince Charlie arrived in Scotland in 1745, Murray joined with his former cause, and with his brother, once again. He became one of the army’s key commanders and is held responsible for the victory at Prestonpans against John Cope in September. It was George who planned the route from Scotland through Carlisle and the North-West of England despite the fact that he did not agree with the prince’s plan to invade England. And it was George who advised that the army should retreat from Derby recognising that there was little support for the Stuart cause in England – something that Charles never forgave him, even though he defeated an army at Falkirk in January 1746 and had protected the rearguard of the Jacobite column during the retreat from Derby back to Scotland. The prince had not wholly trusted him from the start of the campaign and blamed his losses on Murray.
He was opposed to the battle that took place at Culloden, recognising that it was poorly located. He commanded the right wing during the battle. The day afterwards he resigned from the army, wrote to Charles and after going into hiding went into exile. He never came home again. He was presented to James VIII/III in March 1747 in Rome and granted a pension. His wife, Amelia, joined him. When his brother, the Duke of Atholl died in 1764, despite the attainder against George, his son was allowed to inherit the dukedom.
And that leads us to the castle. And as you might expect in a family divided in its loyalties the fate of the castle was not a straight forward one. Duke James left the castle to join with the Hanoverians. William, who should have been the duke but wasn’t because he’d been attainted, arrived with Bonnie Prince Charlie (much awkwardness all around) but after what in modern parlance can only be described as a photo opportunity they all left and the various tenants of the duke breathed a huge sigh of relief. So far so good.
Now jump to 1746. The castle is garrisoned by Hanoverians – well it would be. The official duke was loyal to the government. On 16 March 1746 Lord George Murray turned up and besieged his childhood home., He wrote to his elder brother, William, the Jacobite duke, apologising about the fact that he intended to blow it to smithereens and destroy all the family portraits – to which William replied that despite the loss of the pictures he, being loyal to the Stuart cause, was not concerned. The garrison held out until 2 April when George was forced to withdraw, leaving the family portraits in tact and some lead from various forms of artillery in the roof timbers. Inevitably the prince wa snot pleased that George had not secured his old family home. On 16th April the Jacobites lost the Battle of Culloden.
George spent the next 8 months on the run before turning up in Europe. The Old Pretender welcomed him but the Bonnie Prince avoided the man he blamed for the failure of the rising. The prince’s viewpoint was somewhat in disagreement with Murray’s aide de camp – James the Chevalier de Johnstone who wrote:
Had Prince Charles slept during the whole of the expedition, and allowed Lord George to act for him, there is every reason for supposing he would have found the crown of Great Britain on his head when he awoke.
Murray was joined by his wife while his own eldest son, John , was raised by his brother, Duke James. The duke repaired the castle but made it less likely to be used defensively – new windows made it less of a fort and more of a manor house. John Murray married his cousin Charlotte reuniting the family split by civil conflict and ensuring that John was able to inherit the dukedom by right of his wife who became Baroness Strange (in her own right) as well as monarch of the Isle of Man. It was by vote of the House of Lords that John was identified as the rightful heir to the dukedom, not withstanding his father’s attainder.
Duke James had intended that his elder daughter, Jean, would marry his nephew – however, she had no intention of marrying her cousin and eloped with John Lindsay, Lord Crawford in 1747 from Edinburgh to marry at Berwick, when she was 17 years old. She died less than a year after her marriage. Charlotte and John Murray would go on to have nine children. My favourite fact about the 4th Duke of Atholl is that he planted his estates with larch trees- some of the seeds fired from a cannon. He hoped to sell the timber to the navy as well as using it himself for a range of purposes including furniture making.
The castle contains Bonnie Dundee’s armour (worn the day he was shot at Killiecrankie); Bonnie Prince Charlies gloves, glasses and compass and Lord George Murray’s white cockade indicating his support for the prince. I will also be posting at some point about the 8th Duke and his wife Katherine Ramsay who was a remarkable lady.
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27 July 1689, James VII/II has been turfed off his throne to be replaced by his son-in-law, William of Orange, and James’ own daughter, Mary. Having been forced from his throne in December 1688, war erupted in Ireland in March 1689 while in Scotland John Graham of Claverhouse, better known as Bonnie Dundee, led his own rebellion against the new regime. It was the first Jacobite rebellion, which always comes as something of surprise since it’s the 1715 one that most people think of in the first instance.
General Hugh MacKay, William and Mary’s general led the Scots Brigade in the Low Countries. He was a seasoned commander but then, Dundee was also a professional soldier who fought for both the French and the Dutch before returning to Scotland in 1677 to serve James VII/II and suppress the Covenanters. His suppression of the men who refused to take an oath of loyalty to the king while he was Sheriff of Wigtown earned him deep unpopularity in some quarters as well as the title Viscount Dundee.
If the truth was told no one was that enthusiastic about another civil war in 1689. Many families sought to avoid taking part in any conflict. John Murray, Marquess of Atholl whose home was at Blair Castle took himself off to England to avoid taking part in proceedings. The fact that Patrick Stewart who occupied the castle for the Jacobites was a trusted family retainer is neither here nor there. Dundee was short of men and resources, even though support for the deposed king was growing in the Highlands. He hoped to win a battle that would increase support to his cause.
When John Murray, who was Atholl’s eldest son withdrew from the castle leaving the Jacobites in control, General MacKay moved north to support Murray. Blair Castle was to be besieged. Dundee saw an opportunity to intercept MacKay’s army, win a victory and garner support for the cause of James VII/II. MacKay may have had between 4,000 -5, 000 men who were accompanied by a baggage train and some ordinance. Dundee had about 3,000.
When MacKay entered the Pass of Killiecrankie on the track from Dunkeld he did not realise that he was being watched or that an ambush had been prepared. The track by the River Garry is the same path that government troops used in 1689. It is narrow and muddy. Iain Ban Beag Macrae, from Atholl, was observing MacKay’s men as they scrambled up the valley. When they were close enough he fired the first shot and killed an officer as he was crossing the river.
The Jacobites were on the ridge above the pass. MacKay knew that it would have been madness to order a charge so simply gave orders for his own men to shoot at the enemy. When Dundee gave orders to advance at about seven o’clock in the evening, as the sun began to set, Mackay’s men were subject to a Highland charge. They did not have time to fix bayonets (rifles could either fire or be used as bayonets at that time – not both). It meant that they were ill equipped for the fighting that followed. It was all over in a few minutes. MacKay’s men fled – one of them, Donald McBane, made an 18ft (that’s more than 5m) leap across the River Garry from one rock to another, to escape from the Jacobites. Other men were not so lucky and drowned. Mcbane published his memoirs in 1728 describing events at Killiecrankie and his dramatic escape.
Killiecrankie was a victory – unfortunately it came at the cost of the viscount’s life and a third of his men. The sword that Dundee is rusted to have used is on display at Killiecrankie while his armour, and the hole left by the musket ball, can be seen at Blair Castle. The bullet that killed Dundee was likely to have been a stray one, although tradition states that it was made from a silver button because only silver could harm the viscount. It’s a nice story. Taken together with the fact that he died with his men and that he was also related to John Graham, Marquess of Montrose who had become something of a hero since his execution by Parliament in 1650 meant that Dundee was soon the subject of ballads – the most famous one being ‘Bonnie Dundee’ by Sir Walter Scott which is still played by pipers. It was/is a popular regimental march for various Highland Regiments.
The only squirrel, red or otherwise, I have yet to see – despite lots of signs telling me about their presence!
Margaret Tudor – ‘Stirling Head’ panel. She’s holding a greyhound which was one of the Tudors’ heraldic symbols, originally belonging to the Beaufort family.
There’s no escape from the Tudors if you’re a teenager with an interest in history. The AQA A level syllabus begins in 1485 with Henry Tudor settling in to the newly vacated throne. This is what students are expected to know about him:
Henry Tudor’s consolidation of power: character and aims; establishing the Tudor dynasty
Government: councils, parliament, justice, royal finance, domestic policies
Relationships with Scotland and other foreign powers; securing the succession; marriage alliances
Society: churchmen, nobles and commoners; regional division; social discontent and rebellions
Economic development: trade, exploration, prosperity and depression
Religion; humanism; arts and learning
I’m willing to bet that regular readers of the History Jar could make a good answer to most aspects of the syllabus and are probably quite relieved that I don’t have the Wars of the Roses on my mind. Today however, Scotland and Henry VII – mainly because no one is permitted to photograph the Stone of Destiny which is currently held in Perth Museum and Scone Palace is a Victorian edifice.
Even during the Wars of the Roses the old hostilities between the English and their Scottish neighbours had continued. In 1480, by which time the Yorkists looked secure on the throne, Edward IV even invaded Scotland and intermittent border raids had continued unabated. In 1485, Henry VII’s claim to the throne was tenuous and his cashbox was empty. He needed to secure his borders and make treaties that were beneficial to the Tudor dynasty as well as to the economic prosperity of his new realm. Most of all, he needed his royal house, the Tudors, to be recognised as England’s rightful kings by Europe’s other rulers.
The Treaty of Perpetual Peace was signed between England and Scotland on 31 October 1502 at Westminster by Henry VII and at Glasgow Cathedral by James IV on 10 December. It was the first attempt in about 170 years to bring warfare between the two countries to an end. The treaty was sealed with a marriage between James IV of Scotland, aged 30 years, and Henry VII’s eldest daughter, Margaret Tudor, aged 12 years.
The two monarchs did not start out on quite such good terms. When James IV, aged 15 years, was crowned king of Scotland 1488, Henry continued to face revolts from Yorkist claimants to the English throne, including Perkin Warbeck. King James used this instability to his advantage, invading England in 1496 and 1497. Margaret of Burgundy (a.k.a. the aunt of the missing Yorkist Edward V and his brother Richard) sent envoys to Scotland in 1488 to ensure good relations with the new Scottish king and perhaps ferment trouble for the new English monarch. Henry was required to play a long term strategic game. In November 1492 the Treaty of Etaples agreed among other things, that the French would no longer offer support to the pretender.
In November of 1495, Perkin Warbeck, who Margaret of Burgundy, recognised as the younger of her two nephews, arrived in Scotland. The king who was a similar age to Warbeck (and this is not the post to consider whether he was the missing prince or a pretender) welcomed him to court. He went so far as to have taxes collected to pay Warbeck an allowance of £1,200 per year and in January of 1496, Warbeck married Lady Katherine Gordon, a daughter of the Earl of Huntly who was related to the king by marriage. None of this went down particularly well in England and it’s impossible to know whether James truly believed Warbeck to be the prince or not. Warbeck was certainly at home in the royal court suggesting that his grasp of manners was either instilled from birth or the son of a boatman had been given some very thorough lessons. What is certain is that James intended to use his guest as a pawn in his attempt to regain the town of Berwick-Upon-Tweed which was in English hands as well as gain an advantage over his English neighbour.
James and Warbeck came to an agreement that if the Scots backed an invasion and Warbeck won the crown that Berwick would become Scottish once more, the loan for men and equipment would be paid back and there would be a healthy interest to be paid. Plus, of course, Perkin would owe the Scots for his Crown. Unfortunately when the Scots crossed the border in September 1496 there wasn’t an outpouring of popular Yorkist support and the Scottish king returned home. Furthermore, Margaret of Burgundy was no longer able to offer overt support for the Yorkist cause as the Intercursus Magnus of February 1496 provided for improved economic relations between Burgundy and England. Even worse it turned out that Henry VII wasn’t quite the push over that James might have supposed. The English king gave orders to the Earl of Surrey to raise an army to confront the Scots. The matter was brought to an end with the Treaty of Ayton in 1497 which saw Henry agreeing to marry his eldest daughter to the Scottish king. Henry did not want war, he wanted a peaceful settlement and security. Wars cost money which he preferred not to spend. In addition, he was busily disarming his aristocracy. He didn’t want to have to permit northern lords to continue with their bad old habits of retaining men and crenelating their walls – even if it was to keep the Scots out. It meant that, in Scotland, James maintained his country’s Auld Alliance with France at the same time as entering negotiations with the English. Henry might always be outflanked if he ended up going to war with either of the two kingdoms.
In September 1497 Warbeck sailed to Cornwall with his wife in a ship provided by James in an attempt to gather more support for his claim. For James it meant the opportunity to wash his hands of an increasingly unwelcome guest and to begin fresh negotiations with Henry VII. In all fairness he had not yielded to pressure to hand Warbeck to the English in return for payment. Nor for that matter was James IV totally convinced he wanted to marry Margaret who was still only a child (think of the importance of an heir to the Scottish throne). Not that it mattered so long as the Treaty of Ayton held while there were negotiations between the two realms.
James IV had a perfectly nice mistress, thank you very much. He was in love with Margaret Drummond, the eldest daughter of John, Lord Drummond – though don’t go running away with the idea he was a one man woman. By 1496 Margaret, who gave the king a daughter, had her own apartment in Stirling Castle and while his council were talking about the benefits of an Anglo-Scottish alliance, James was thinking marrying Margaret who came from a relatively unimportant family. There were even rumours of a secret marriage having taken place.
In 1501 Margaret, who was at her family home at Drummond Castle in Perthshire, became unwell, as did two of her sisters, Euphemia and Sybella, following their breakfast. The three of them died. Suspicion pointed at Euphemia’s widower, John Fleming, 2nd Lord Fleming but whether they were poisoned so that the way was cleared for the Anglo-Scottish marriage to go ahead or wether it was a case of accidentally food poisoning is another matter.
The way was clear for a proxy marriage between Margaret and James to take place at Richmond in January 1503 by which time Margaret’s brother Arthur was dead – Elizabeth of York would die the following month. All that stood between the Scottish king and the English throne was Prince Henry. The Tudor dynasty wasn’t looking quite so secure as it had once done. But the marriage was a success for Henry VII – as well as lessening the chance of invasion from the north it reflected that the Tudor family was recognised by its neighbour as a royal one – especially as the Stewarts were long established royalty. One of the conditions of the marriage agreement was that Margaret should not travel north until she was 13 years old. In 1498 while negotiations were still under way, Henry had indicated that his mother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, and wife, Elizabeth of York, did not think it right that so young a girl should be risked to the dangers of child birth at a tender age. In addition to which the pair had probably heard that James IV was some something of womaniser.
Margaret stayed in England, referred to as the Scottish queen while preparations for her journey north got underway. She would travel to Scotland, taking a whole month to arrive, when she was 13 years-old. The only fly in the ointment were the finances. Henry wanted to know what Margaret’s ladies-in-waiting would be paid. There was the new queen’s dower to be settled and also the dowry to be paid – Henry agreed to 30,000 nobles to be paid across three years – which to be fair, he paid promptly. It was unfortunate that James paid more than half of that for the pageantry surrounding his bride’s arrival in Edinburgh. The fact that she did not have a child until 1507 suggests that James respected his mother-in-law and Lady Margaret Beaufort’s concerns for his wife’s physical well being. Chivalry and pageantry was the glue that held the treaty together in the meantime and James intended to assert Scottish dominance on proceedings.
And just in case you’re thinking – how lovely – a happy ending…think again, In 1508, Henry VII began to renovate the fortifications at Berwick and in 1513, Margaret’s brother, by then Henry VIII, won the Battle of Flodden which also saw the death of James IV – so much for perpetual peace.
Incidentally, a past exam question states: Henry VII’s foreign policy with Scotland was most successful. How far do you agree?
