A Little Bit of Luck

Luck of Edenhall

Luck of Edenhall

When I was a child we used to refer to a bird splattering the car window screen  with its guano as leaving ‘luck’.  As an adult responsible for washing my own car I fail to see what luck has to do with it.  However, back to matters in hand, the lucks of today’s post as rather prettier and infinitely more historic – although once again in some instances ‘luck’ seems to be missing from the equation.

The first luck is the ‘Luck of Edenhall’ which used to be in possession of the Musgrave family of Edenhall. The ‘luck’ is a beautiful gilded and enamelled glass beaker (it looks like a vase to me but what do I know).  It was made in Syria so the chances are that it made its way home in the trunk of a Musgrave crusader.  Remarkably it survived the joys of reiver warfare, heavy handed drinkers and the washing up bowl.  Though to be fair it must always have been prized because when not in use it was kept in a leather container that had been made in the Fourteenth Century. The case bears the letters IHS suggesting that it was once used as a communion challice.

The luck was still in one piece at the beginning of the Eighteenth Century when the current owner decided it would be a good idea to drink the health of the entire family from the priceless heirloom.  Luck must indeed have been on the side of the Musgraves because it survived and went on to feature in a ballad.

Border ballads had been popularised by Sir Walter Scott and James Hogg at this time and “The Drinking Match” was a modern contrivance which featured the medieval glassware.

If this cup should break or fall,

Farewell the Luck of Edenhall.

From there it was one small step to the fairies – quite literally at the bottom of the garden – who were supposed to have given the luck to the Musgraves after water was drawn for them at a well.

The Musgraves aren’t the only family to have a ‘concrete’ luck that they need to guard against disaster.  The Lamb Family of Great Salkeld had a brass dish allegedly given by hobgoblins at a wedding feast.  A girl from the wedding family went to a nearby well to fetch water where she was accosted by a hungry hobgoblin – or gaggle of hungry hobgoblins depending on the account- who said that they would bless the bride and groom in exchange for food and drink.

Sir John Pennington was the Lord of Muncaster Castle during a portion of the Wars of the Roses.  In the aftermath of the Battle of Hexham (15 May 1464) King Henry VI was found wandering over the fell.  He was taken to Muncaster where Sir John and his wife cared for the broken monarch for the next nine days.  When he left the monarch – who could have done with a bit more luck himself- gave the family a glass cup telling them that they would prosper so long as it remained unbroken.  It is still on display in Muncaster Castle.

View across fells from Muncaster Castle

View across fells from Muncaster Castle

The final luck in this post brings us to the Luck of Workington.  Mary Queen of Scots fled across the Solway Firth in a fishing boat with sixteen companions.  When she arrived she had very few possessions and needed shelter.  Lord Herries, a Scottish Lowland laird who’d remained loyal to his queen sent a message to Sir Henry Curwen of Workington with whom he had a friendship.  Sir Henry sheltered Mary until she could be escorted to Carlisle Castle.  When she left she gave the family a small agate cup as a token of her gratitude.  It became known as the Workington Luck.

When history becomes mystery – or perhaps its the other way round. A brief look at Robin Hood.

P2101335So much for a catchy title!  Before we begin I need to admit that Robin Hood is my all time hero.  My father used to read me the tale of Robin Hood, at my request, again and again.  I visited Nottingham when I was seven and was disappointed with the castle in the way that only a seven-year-old can be.  I was expecting Hollywood turrets, battlements and assorted drawbridges.  Even worse, so far as fair Nottingham was concerned, what the bombing raids of Luftwaffe didn’t destroy, the city planners had mangled.  I can still remember my Dad going round the one way system getting progressively more irritated.  Things only really got better when we arrived in Sherwood Forest and we went in search of the Major Oak.  But enough of my personal history – just be aware that I have a not altogether unbiased viewpoint as to whether Robin existed or not.

Legend, film versions at any rate, places  Robin Hood and his merry band firmly in the reign of Good King Richard and Bad King John.  Other versions place him in the reign of Henry III, possibly dying with Simon de Montfort at the Battle of Evesham.

In some respects it doesn’t really matter.  The fact is that The Lyttell Geste of Robin Hood was set in print by William Caxton.  This is a version of an oral tradition that must have been handed down over the generations. And here its worth a moment’s digression. If we look at the ballads of the border reivers such as the tale of Kinmont Willie it is possible to see where history has become embroidered by the needs of a good story and the formula of the  ballad.  There’s also a little bit of a hint that Sir Walter Scott may have tidied the whole thing up somewhat.  It is possible to see a sixteenth century historical event turning into a story.  The same, perhaps, can be said for Robin Hood excepting the fact that there isn’t anywhere near as much paper based evidence for Robin Hood as there is for William Armstrong of Kinmont who took for himself rather than anyone else irrelevant of the wealth of his victims but still seems to have managed to stay one step ahead of the law.  And yes, Sir Walter Scott did embroider the Robin Hood story – who could forget Ivanhoe?

There is, however, a faint trace of a historical paper trail for the man in green.  The Court Rolls of the Manor of Wakefield; the Contrarient Rolls of King Edward II and the Household Expenses Account of Edward II reveal an archer by the name of Robin Hood. The key thing is though, not whether he existed or was fabricated by disgruntled over-taxed peasants, but that he became a national hero – and was sung about in English.  Robin reflects the fact that during the Plantagenet period the English were beginning to get a sense of themselves as a nation.  In part, this was because King John lost his continental empire and was forced to concentrate on England – not that the barons were terribly grateful for the favour. The accession of Henry III, the first child monarch in English history, saw a time of some weakness for the monarchy and the reissue of Magna Carta; the concept of shared power (well shared if you were a baron); a rising group of free men and a somewhat fairer legal system.  It is perhaps not surprising then that Robin’s story should be associated with a period in history when the English were beginning to evolve as a nation.

Of course, the Black Death killing one-third of the British population between 1349-50 helped matters along rather nicely as the English-speaking hoi-poloi suddenly found that they had more economic clout than previously but the fact that  English was reinstated in schools that same year, although the universities of Oxford and Cambridge continued to use Latin, reflects the growing importance of the English language and the changing perspectives of the ruling classes.  They were beginning to see themselves as English rather than Norman.  In 1362 English replaced French as the language of law by the Statutes of Pleading but records continued to be kept in Latin and English was used in Parliament for the first time.

Now if you don’t mind, I’m off to re-watch Errol Flynn being heroic in the green wood. If you want to find out more about the history of Edwinstowe where Robin Hood is supposed to have married Maid Marian, click on the image at the beginning.  It will take you to an article I wrote and had published a couple of years ago.  You might be surprised to discover that even Henry II gets in on the act as well.

Sir John Carmichael, Sandeis Ringan and Lang Sandy

sandySir John Carmichael  (1542-1600) was described by the Bishop of Durham as “the most expert borderer.” He was well liked by many people.  MacDonald Fraser records that Carmichael was an honest official who received additional powers from his own government as well as the goodwill of the Wardens of the English West March.  The man who followed him into post after his first term as warden, the Lord Maxwell, said of Carmichael that he was more worthy than Maxwell ever was or would be.  High praise indeed!

Not that events were always so friendly.

1575:  Sir John Carmichael was the Deputy warden during the events recorded as the Raid of Reidswire. Sir John was the Scottish Deputy March Warden at the ‘Day of Truce’.  Everyone who came to the day of truce was supposed to be unarmed and they swore that they would not offend ‘by word, deed or countenance’. Of course, these are the “Riding Times” we’re talking about.  At the Raid of the Reidswire Carmichael fell out with  his English counterpart Sir John Forster, seventy-five years old, and English Middle March Warden. Reaction to the aggressive exchanges of the two Wardens soon spilled over to the men of both sides who attended and all hell let loose resulting in several deaths and even worse, capture of English officers.  Reidswire was the last time that the English used the longbow in warfare. And since the English came off the worse in this encounter and Carmichael found himself incarcerated in York while Elizabeth I calmed down.

1582:  The Raid of Ruthven. King James Vl, aged just sixteen, was captured by William Ruthven, Earl of Gowrie.  He was vehemently anti-Catholic and was concerned that James’ favourite- Esme Stuart was too Catholic  as well as too French. Carmichael became involved but was pardoned when James extracted himself from Ruthen’s ‘care’ some ten months later.

1588:  Carmichael was one of the ambassadors sent to Denmark to negotiate the marriage between James Vl and Anne of Denmark.

1598: Carmichael was made Warden of the Scottish West March.  He was well qualified.  In addition to having been a deputy warden he had also been Keeper of Liddesdale on previous occasions.

1600: Carmichael met with the Armstrong clan in an effort to bring an end to their nefarious habits. The Armstrong’s sent one of Kinmont Willie Armstrong’s brothers. Alexander Armstrong was known as Sandeis Ringane. Some of Carmichael’s men set about humiliating Ringan.  At some point in proceedings for a jest Ringan’s sword was removed from its scabbard and egg yolks put in.  The sword was returned and became stuck. Not surprisingly Sandeis Ringane was furious and swore vengeance.  The meeting did not finish on a positive note.

June 14 1600: Gretna Warden Meeting.  Carmichael met with Richard Lowther the English Warden.  During this time there was a football match…  Ringan’s Tom Armstrong, William ‘the Pecket’ Scott and Willie Kang Irvine met. Thomas Armstrong plotted revenge for his father’s humiliation.

June 16 1600:  Carmichael was ambushed by a party of Armstrongs including Thomas Armstrong and his father along with a Taylor, a Forrester, a Scott and a Graham at Raesknowes, on the way to Lochmaben.  Richard Lowther commented that it was the third warden that had been killed in Scotland.

The Armstrongs then proceeded to raid Stanwix, just across the river and up the hill from Carlisle Castle.  As the bishop preached his sermon – the Armstrongs were helping themselves to the available horses.  They then moved on to Linstock for some cattle.

1601: Thomas Armstrong, son to Sandies Ringane, was tried for his part in the murder, had his right hand cut off and was then hanged at the Mercat Cross at Edinburgh. His body was left to hang in chains.

‘And Thomas Armstrang, “sone to Sandeis Ringane” was condemned to be “tane to the mercat croce of Edinburgh, and thair his richt hand to be stricken fra his arme; and thaireeftir, to be hanget upoune ane gibbet, quhill he be deid; and thaireefter, to be tane to the Gallows on the Burrowmure, and thair his body to be hangit in irn chains.

1606: Lang Sandy Armstrong of Rowanburn, so-called because he was over six feet tall, evaded capture for his part in Carmichael’s murder until 1606.  He was hung together with all eleven of his sons and Willie Kang was indicted.  Lang Sandy agreed that he’d taken part in the murder but added that he felt forced to the act of violence.

“To the men that hangit the theves in Canonbie, be the king’s command, 13 shillings.

The following verses are said to have been composed by one of the Armstrongs, probably Thomas,  executed for the murder of Sir John Carmichael, of Edrom, Warden of the Middle Marches.

ARMSTRONG’S GOODNIGHT

This night is my departing night,

For here nae langer must I stay;

There’s neither friend nor foe o’ mine,

But wishes me away.

What I have done thro’ lack of wit,

I never, never can recall;

I hope ye’re a’ my friends as yet;

Goodnight, and joy be with you all!

For further comment as to the originality of the piece, Sir Walter Scott offers some thoughts in his Border Minstrelsy.

Words By the Water

Usually I only receive bills and junk mail through the post but today I received my copy of the 2013 Words by the Water programme.  I was very excited.  My name appears in print alongside likes of Sally Vickers, Jenny Uglow and Tracy Chevalier.  I’m a small part of the Bookcase Day on the 7th of March.  I  will be talking about my new book, Riding By Moonlight – a retelling of some of the border ballads.  Each story is prefaced by some relevant historical information that provides context.

Excitement aside, I’ve got a little less than a month to plan my talk, practise a flourishing signature and try to get rid of my cold.