Sunday, 17 November 2013
The World at War
Monday, 4 November 2013
A contemporary view of the King of Scots
“The king is twenty-five years and some months old. He is of noble stature, neither tall nor short, and as hand- some in complexion and shape as a man can be. His address is very agreeable. He speaks the following foreign languages : Latin, very well ; French, German, Flemish, Italian, and Spanish ; Spanish as well as the Marquis, but he pronounces it more distinctly. He likes very much to receive Spanish letters. His own Scotch language is as different from English as Aragonese from Castilian. The king speaks, besides, the language of the savages who live in some parts of Scotland and on the islands. It is as different from Scotch as Biscayan is from Castilian. His knowledge of languages is wonderful. He is well read in the Bible and in some other devout books. He is a good historian. He has read many Latin and French histories, and profited by them, as he has a very good memory. He never cuts his hair or his beard. It becomes him very well.”
He also praises the king's piety, character and courage, giving a glowing recommendation to his rulers, Ferdinand and Isabella. It's best to take this with a pinch of salt–Ayala was trying to promote James as a potential husband for one of the Spanish princesses, after all and would gain status from organising such a match. However, he's spot on when he describes what was to become James' fatal flaw.
“He is courageous, even more so than a king should be. I am a good witness of it. I have seen him often undertake most dangerous things in the last wars. I sometimes clung to his skirts and succeeded in keeping him back. On such occasions he does not take the least care of himself. He is not a good captain, because he begins to fight before he has given his orders. He said to me that his subjects serve him with their persons and goods, in just and unjust quarrels, exactly as he likes, and that, therefore, he does not think it right to begin any warlike undertaking without being himself the first in danger.”
From one point of view, this can be seen as an admirable character trait. Leading from the front and taking the same risks as the men you command are still vital to leadership in modern armies: but for a king, whose death would inevitably lead to a massive political crisis, the considerations are different. At Flodden, James' decision to go down into the marshy dip and to take personal command of the troubled pikemen there led not only to his own death, but also to many years of of political instability and continual warfare in Scotland.
Monday, 21 October 2013
The Scottish Moors
Much of what we know about these black courtiers comes from the accounts kept by James IV's Lord High Treasurer, which begin to mention Moors at the court from 1501 onwards, when a payment to 'the Moreyn' of 15s 4d is noted as having been made. More payments, often to named individual Moors followed- see here and here.
Of course, Moors were not necessarily black, and in 16th century Scotland, a 'black man' would more usually refer to a man with black hair, but there are good reasons to suppose that these Moors were of recent sub-Saharan African origin. Where we can trace the origins of the Moors, it seems that they all came out of Portugal, whether found aboard Portuguese ships taken as prizes by the Barton brothers, or brought directly from Iberia by William Wood. Traditionally, slaves in Portugal had been of Iberian Muslim origins, but by the end of the 15th century there were few of these left and they had been supplanted almost entirely by black Africans.
It was also a time when black servants and courtiers were quite fashionable in European courts and in a way in which Berber or Iberian Muslim slaves were not. They brought an exotic touch to the court, and one that demonstrated the universal reach of the king's power and the cosmopolitan nature of the court – and James IV was not the kind of man to be seen as being behind the times.
From the 15th century onwards, we have plenty of depictions of black servants and courtiers from other European courts, but none survive from the court of James IV, though I feel that it was likely that some would have been made. However, we do know from other sources how keen the king was to display his black Moors to the public. In the summer of 1507, an extraordinary pageant was held at Edinburgh to celebrate the birth of the king's son and heir, James, Duke of Rothesay, now known as the "Tournament of the Wild Knight and the Black Lady". In this pageant, the king, in the guise of the Wild Knight, jousted in the cause of the Black Lady, probably played by one of the two Moorish ladies in the household of Lady Margaret Stewart. The 'Moor lass' dressed in a 'gown of damask flowered with gold and fringed in green and yellow taffeta' was borne to the tournament in a 'chair triumphal", probably carried by Scotsmen with blackened skin. Upon the king's victory, she rewarded him with a symbolic kiss.
The tournament was such a success that it was repeated the next year, despite the death of the infant Duke of Rothesay on the meantime. The two tournaments were the two most expensive and flamboyant ever held during the reign of James IV, and the Black Lady herself was immortalised in verse by the makar William Dunbar, the greatest of that era. The poem itself 'Ane blak More [My ladye with the mekle lippis]' belongs to the Scottish flyting tradition, and so is far from complimentary. Be that as it may, it does immortalise one of the earliest black Scots.
Lang heff I maed of ladyes quhytt,
Nou of an blak I will indytt
That landet furth of the last schippis
Quhou fain wald I descryve perfytt
My ladye with the mekle lippis.
Friday, 20 September 2013
All at sea
To cut a long ballad short, Sir Andrew had been given a letter of marque by King James IV of Scotland, allowing him to carry out attacks on Portuguese shipping. Since Portugal was England's oldest ally, Henry VIII of England charged Sir Edward Howard and his brother Thomas Howard, the 3rd Duke of Norfolk to rid the seas of this menace. This they do, but only after a vicious sea battle in which Sir Andrew is slain, though not before declaiming that he's not dead, it's only a flesh wound:
‘Fight on, fight on, my merry men all,
A little I am hurt, yet not slain;
I’le but lie down and bleed a while,
And come and fight with you again.
It's worth remarking here that this is the same Thomas Howard who, as Lord High Admiral of England who led the men of the English fleet to fight at Flodden. Everything's connected.
Saturday, 14 September 2013
The Death of Richard III
It's quite remarkable how the king's skeleton keeps providing more information for investigators. Part of this is because we know more about the lifestyle and status of Richard than we do about most of the people that archaeologists are usually able to study, and part because we know about the particular circumstances of his death.
As an example, we know that there's no possibility of Richard having been struck by arrows, but his skull had injuries of a type identified as arrow wounds by the team who worked on the Towton dig. These wounds now look much more likely to have been inflicted by daggers, evidence of close-up and personal fighting.
Also worthy of mention are the roundworms that were found in the area of the king's abdomen, and the proposed study of the plaque on his teeth which might reveal what he had been eating in the weeks or days before his death. Archaeological science is progressing very fast these days!
A couple of other things worthy of mention are that the Bosworth battlefield is yielding a large amount of shot, more than any other European battlefield site yet examined, indicating that there were far more cannon and handgonnes in use in the 15th century than the historical sources mention, and that the account of Richard's death recorded by Jean Molinet fits the information now being given up by the king's skeleton far more closely than any of the other sources and needs to be reassessed in the light of this.
Saturday, 7 September 2013
Over at the National Library of Scotland website there's a fascinating collection of more than 1800 scanned and transcribed broadsides called The Word on the Street. It covers more than two and a half centuries of events from the 1650s right up to the 1910s.
More than half of the broadsides are ballads on topics of every kind, accidents, wars, crime and criminals, and so on, but the one that caught my eye today was this one, on the execution of David Myles, hanged in Edinburgh for the crime of incest on 27th November 1702.
The content isn't especially unusual for broadsides of this kind, consisting mostly of Myles confessing his sins from the scaffold and giving 'satisfaction' to the onlookers, unlike his sister, hanged the previous week for incest and infanticide. The interest lies in something rather more gruesome. David Myles was to be the subject of Edinburgh's Incorporation of Surgeons' first public dissection.
To advance the science of anatomy and the study of medicine, the Incorporation had constructed a new anatomy theatre in 1697 and secured an agreement from the Town Council to supply them with the corpse of one executed criminal each year for the purposes of public dissection. Over the course of a week, Myles' body was dissected by a series of experts on surgery and anatomy, concluding on the 8th day with an epilogue delivered by Archibald Pitcairne, one of the great physicians of the day, and who had been professor of medicine at Leiden before returning to Edinburgh. This public dissection was quite important for the teaching of anatomy in Edinburgh, and so the Incorporation didn't dispose of Myles's corpse in the usual fashion, but retained it in the form of an anatomical preparation. And so it is that over three centuries on, he can still be seen in the museum of the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh.
Monday, 2 September 2013
More sole survivors
But what was this solitary rider's name? There is a statue outside the Victoria Halls in Selkirk, erected in 1913 to mark the 400th anniversary of the battle, known as the Fletcher monument (above), following a local tradition that his name was Fletcher. Walter Elliot, that tireless collector of Borders lore, has remarked that there are no contemporary records of a sole survivor of whatever name returning to Selkirk with the banner nor was anyone of that surname mentioned as living in or near the town in the period.
A different tradition records that the sole survivor was the town clerk Sir William Brydon,fletcher by trade, who had led the men of Selkirk at Flodden and who was knighted by James V in 1535 for his actions there. Sadly, this also appears to be untrue. Brydon does appear in contemporary documents and was indeed the town clerk in 1513, but in not mentioned as having a Flodden connection. Some documents do indeed style him "Sir William Brydon", but not as "Sir William Brydon, knight", which means that he was a priest of some sort.
It's not impossible that he fought at Flodden–other priests certainly did, and there is still a sword extant that is said to have belonged to him–but there's no contemporary record of this either. So, perhaps the truths of the sole survivor story are artistic rather than historical.
This is a shame, because otherwise it would be a nice piece of synchronicity. There is another very well-documented case of a sole survivor of a disastrous military expedition, a Scottish surgeon who arrived at Jalalabad on the 13th of January 1842 to report the total destruction of the army commanded by General Elphinstone during the famous Retreat from Kabul, part of the First Afghan War. And the name of this man, commemorated in Lady Butler's Remnants of an Army (below)?
It was William Brydon.
[pictures from Wikipedia Commons]
Monday, 26 August 2013
Kothar the Barbarian Swordsman
I spent a few hours yesterday at the book festival in Edinburgh. This inevitably involves a great deal of sitting around waiting for things to happen, but that's okay, since you won't be at a loss for something to read.
Myself, I used the time to read Gardner Fox's Kothar the Barbarian, part of my ongoing interest in pulp science fiction & fantasy. I'd picked this one up a couple of years back in the Star Books edition shown above. This Australian mass mass market paperback edition was fairly cheap ca.1969 when it came out and is still fairly inexpensive on the second-hand market, so it wasn't a difficult book to acquire.
Gardner Fox was an amazingly proloific writer. As well as working full-time for DC Comics as a writer (amongst the things he created while there was Batman's famous Utility Belt), he published at least one novel a year, and sometimes many more. When DC got rid of him and many of their other veterans in 1968 (so that they didn't have to provide health insurance for their older staff workers), he sought out other markets.
One of these other markets was TSR's games magazine The Dragon, which published his Niall of the Far Travels short stories from the mid-70s onwards. This was where I first encountered his writings as a young Dungeons and Dragons fan. At the time, I was completely unaware of his other work, so it was only much later that I realised how important a writer he had been for the creators of D&D, and the likely reason he had been asked to write for The Dragon to begin with (he also created a boardgame for TSR during this period–he really was a polymath).
I'm not going to claim that these stories about a humongous northern barbarian and his magic sword Frostfire are great art or especially innovative. Indeed, they're filled with the cliches of the genre with seductive witches, rubies the size of pigeons' eggs, low taverns and high body counts. However, what they do have is a tremendous energy as Kothar battles his way from encounter to fabulous encounter and a heavy sprinkling of that elusive 'sense of wonder' that fans so crave. If you're a player of D&D, you'll also notice a few ideas that Gygax & Arneson took straight from the Kothar stories and incorporated in their game.
In short, I enjoyed this and will be looking to read the other four books in the series. None of them seem to be especially cheap, so it may be a while before I find them at a price I like. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, 21 August 2013
Flodden and the Blue Blanket
A fierce migraine has been afflicting me all week, but I managed (just) to find time to visit the exhibition on "Flodden and the Blue Blanket" at the Trades Maiden Hospital in Edinburgh.
The Blue Blanket in question is the standard granted to the Hammermen of Edinburgh under which the Edinburgh Trades would muster in time of war. It wasn't unique–the Edinburgh Merchants had a Blue Blanket too, and so did the merchants and tradesmen of other Scottish burghs. Over time, the Hammermen themselves have had many Blue Blankets, regularly laying up worn colours and replacing them with fresh ones. This Blue Blanket in the Trades Maiden Hospital is believed to be late 17th century, and the oldest surviving example.
No photography was permitted, quite rightly, but I have posted an image of the flag at the to give an idea of its original appearance. Nowadays, there is almost none of that bright azure colour remaining, and the flag is a ghostly white, but it remains an impressive piece of Edinburgh history.
Much of the exhibition concentrates on Flodden, one of Scotland's greatest debacles, in a country famous for its debacles. The Edinburgh Trades contingent fought under their own banner at the battle and were essentially destroyed during it. The flag, now tattered and torn, was somehow rescued from the battlefield by Randolph Murray, captain and sole survivor of the Edinburgh City Band (the town watch), who carried it back to the capital with the news of Scotland's defeat.
The exhibition collected together several different depictions of Murray's arrival in Edinburgh on his wounded horse (above), carrying with him the Blue Blanket. The event also featured in William Edmondstoune Aytoun's "Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers", a phenomenally succesful poetry collection in its day. The poem which you can read here, "Edinburgh After Flodden" while very much a piece of its time still has a little of that blood and thunder to shake the reader.Wednesday, 14 August 2013
Lochleven Castle
Here's a shot of the suviving parts of Tutbury Castle–there was a 1940s living history event being held there over the bank holiday weekend, and you can see some part of that going on in front of the best preserved parts of the structure. The building on the right is now used as a museum and tea shop and it was rather nice to stop there for a coffee and a cake on a bright summer's day.
Lochleven Castle is quite a different kettle of fish. For a start, it's in the middle of Loch Leven. The island is a lot bigger than it was in the 16th century because the loch has been partially drained since then. When Mary was here, the water came up almost to the base of the castle walls. The modern island is much larger and now pleasantly wooded.
It's also only accessible by a tiny ferry from Kinross. It can carry 12 passengers and runs every 15 minutes. Well, supposedly. If you follow Historic Scotland's Twitter feed, you'll have noticed that the service gets cancelled a lot, especially in high winds. There wasn't much in the way of wind on the day I was there, and apart from the wake of the ferry, the surface was as still as a mill-pond.
Looking from the curtain wall over to the tower house where Mary was held prisoner. You can see that the main entrance to the house is rather high, on the second floor rather than the first. Nowadays you can also enter at ground level.
Mary spent nearly a year here, before escaping in male disguise aboard a boat that had been stolen by some of her supporters. Sadly for the queen, there was no tea-room to welcome her at the loch's edge as there is today, and things continued to get worse from then on, defeated in battle at Langside, forced to flee England, imprisoned by her cousin and then finally executed. When I was a student at the University of Edinburgh, one of the lecturers in Scottish history liked to call the story of the Stuart Dynasty a soap-opera and Mary's episodes are surely among the most dramatic. But as for me, it's time to go back to Kinross for a bite to eat and an ice-cream before my journey home to Livingston.
Thursday, 8 August 2013
The Steel Bonnets and the Wild Scots
The main weapon of these cavalrymen was a spear, 8 feet in length that served as a short lance. Many would also carry a longbow, or a light crossbow, called a latch. All would also carry a sword and dagger as backup weapons. For protection they were outfitted much the same as the infantry with a targe, a helmet (the steel bonnet) and armour appropriate to their wealth and status.
The Border Horse provided around 5% of the army's strength–compared to the 70% or so who fought as pike or spearmen. Another 15% or so came from the Gaelic-speaking Highlands, clansmen following their chiefs to war in time-honoured fashion.
These highlanders fought as infantry, but not in pike blocks or schiltrons as the lowlanders did.
"From mid-leg to the foot they go uncovered; their dress is, for an over-garment, a loose plaid and a shirt, saffron dyed. They are armed with a bow and arrows, a broadsword and a small halbert. They always carry in their belt a stout dagger, single-edged but of the sharpest. In time of war they cover the whole of their body with a coat of mail, made of iron rings and in it they fight. The common folk amongst the Wild Scots go out into battle with the whole body clad in a linen garment sewed together in patchwork, well daubed with wax or with pitch, and with an overcoat of deerskin."
John Major, History of Greater Britain, both England and Scotland, 1521
Some eschewed even this protection and stripped for combat, perhaps tying the shirt up around their waist for modesty. Note that the plaid mentioned here is not a kilt, but instead a cloak or mantle.
The mail coat would be fairly long, reaching down to the knees and worn over a padded aketon, the cotun. Relatively few warriors could afford mail, and merely wore the padded coat. Most would also have some kind of helmet, many would carry a targe and some would even wear raw-hide brogues.
Again, they armed themselves with what they could afford, and as well as the items John Major noted, they might carry spears (but not pikes) or axes, both large and small.
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
The wappinschaw
Traditionally, the core of the Scots common army was the long spear, 8 to 12 feet in length, deployed en masse in a phalanx-like formation called a schiltron (though the name clearly means something like 'shield-troop', for most of the middle ages spearmen went shieldless). In 1471, an ineffective law was passed to replace the long spear with the longer Swiss pike (as much as 18 feet in length). Not until the reign of James IV did the pike truly become standard equipment, and then only thanks to a massive military aid programme funded by the French in the run-up to Flodden.
Some weapons other than spears and pikes were acceptable at the wappinschaw. These varied a little over time, but would include the missile weapons that were always in quite short supply in the Scots army (longbow, crossbow, hand culverin and arquebus), various polearms (halberd, Leith axe, Jeddart stave, the mysterious brogit staff and others), and the two-handed sword. Generally, soldiers would also have a sword or dagger of some kind as a secondary weapon.
From the 1450s on, all but the missile troops were required to be equipped with the targe, a small round shield, though we know that at Flodden the men at the very front of the pike blocks had instead large wooden pavises to provide even more protection against the English longbowmen.
Armour varied with the wealth of the wearer. The richer a levy was, the better armour he would be required to have, and the closer to the front of the schiltron he would be placed. At the front, you might find nobles with white harness from Italy or the Low Countries, or gentlemen in mass-produced half-plate (such as the Almain rivets produced in James IV's harness factory at Stirling), and so on down through brigandine and jack for those further back. All would also wear helmets, sometimes covered with the traditional blue bonnet of the Scottish soldier. We also know that the less well-armoured soldiers would stitch rows of brass chains into the sleeves and thighs of their doublet and hose to ward off sword blows, and that they each would also wear kerchief wrapped three or four times around his throat for added protection, though I don't believe these practices are mentioned in the wappinschaw statutes.
So, our typical Scots soldier of the early 15th century, our Jock Tamson, how would he be equipped?
*doublet and hose, reinforced with brass chain
*a quilted and padded jack
*a simple iron helmet, perhaps under his blue bonnet
*a kerchief wrapped around his neck
*a targe
*boots and gloves, as stout as he could afford
*a cheap sword
*a long spear or a pike (if available)
Some areas of Scotland provided special types of troops that I haven't covered here today–the Highlanders and the Border Horse. I'll write more about them in forthcoming posts.