Dog-like teeth

A little extract from my current WIP (Work in Progress, to use a not-at-all pompous writer's term). Here, my hero gets creeped out travelling through Cappadocia.

'I started to sweat. Perhaps they dwelled here still. Perhaps they were watching us, that very moment, from their nasty little holes. When the light faded, they would come creeping out, hungry for fresh meat, and fall upon us while we slept. More beasts than men, I could almost feel their sharp, dog-like teeth closing on my flesh, the clutching hands and long, monstrously powerful fingers with broken nails wrapped about my neck, squeezing the very life from me...'

What is he on about, exactly? Ah, you will have to wait to find out.

You can pre-order Axe Lord on Amazon US and Amazon UK

Discover a lost prince - get your free biography of Prince Dafydd!

Roll up! Roll up! Santa has come early this year - or late - and is offering freebies.

Specifically, I am offering a free download of my short biography of Prince Dafydd ap Gruffudd, published a couple of years ago. It is now available to subscribers on my Substack - free or paid, so I'm not trying to milk you - so just click the link and it will take you there. Choose a subscription and the download will be made available.

Dafydd is one of the most controversial figures in the history of medieval Wales. A prince of Gwynedd, he fought for and against Edward I, and finally met a hideous end on the scaffold at Shrewsbury. Perhaps surprisingly, for such a pivotal figure, he had no proper biography until I decided to I write one.

Was Dafydd a traitor to his country, a misunderstood patriot, or simply a medieval princeling who ran plumb out of luck? Or none of the above? Have a read, if you fancy, and decide for yourself! 😁

Prince Dafydd free download on Substack

Guest post by Cathie Dunn

Who was Poppa of Bayeux?

“Who was she?”

When you research history, you often ask yourself that question. History is, usually, about men – their wars, their politics, their influence.

Chroniclers used to share the achievements of male rulers, and their challenges, successes, and failures. We read about their marriages, their sons, and occasionally their daughters (where they made suitable marriages or founded religious houses, for example). But we rarely hear about their wives, especially earlier in the Middle Ages.

Where were the wives? Did they not contribute anything of note at all?

Historical accounts are sadly often filled with the dismissive attitudes of the chroniclers. Apparently, it must have been a rare feat that a woman achieved something great out of her own ability, and not due to the largesse, cunning, or support of her male relatives…

Yet more and more details slowly emerge of the power women yielded, and not only behind the scenes. I believe we’re only now starting to see a wider picture. One such lady is Poppa of Bayeux.

Very little is known about her. Sources aren’t even certain about her father’s origins, but it makes much sense, historically, that her father was a man of some influence in Neustria. Otherwise, an invader like Rollo (Hrólfr in my novel, Ascent) would not have considered marriage to her. He had lofty ambitions, and Poppa provided a certain legitimacy, as the daughter of a Frankish noble.

They were married ‘in more danico’ – in the Danish handfasting manner, so not in the eyes of the Church. Whether that fact mattered to her or not, is up to speculation. As a Frankish woman, she would have been a Catholic, whilst her husband was still Pagan.

We know she was around fourteen years old when they met around 886 / 889, possibly even younger, but her children were born later. Their birth dates are uncertain, though, so we won’t know how old she was when she had her first child.

At the end of the 890s, Poppa accompanied Rollo to East Anglia, as he’d fallen out with the then Frankish king. There, some sources claim, her son William was born, and possibly her daughter, Gerloc, too. 

In the early 900s, they were back in Neustria, and Rollo’s star was on the rise as he gathered control over large swathes of the region. He was always on the move, consolidating his growing power, so Poppa was left to coordinate their manor. She likely spent her time between Bayeux and of course, Rouen, the fast-growing town he chose as his seat, and where Rollo would have welcomed many Frankish nobles.

Whether he married Gisela, an apparently illegitimate daughter of King Charles of the West Franks in 911 as part of the Treaty of Saint-Clair-sur-Epte, is debatable, as no proof of her exist. If indeed they wed, with a Church blessing, they had no children, or those would have become his heirs. It was Poppa’s son, William, who inherited Rollo’s lands and title as ‘lord of the Normands’, originally granted by Frankish kings.

I loved plotting Poppa’s life in Ascent as I envisaged it: a lady of minor nobility, loyal, quietly powerful, who plays a vital role in the foundation of what was to become the powerful House of Normandy. Poppa is the ultimate matriarch – the ancestor of dukes of Normandy and Kings of England, and beyond. 

Surely, a remarkable woman who should not have been forgotten…

Links to Ascent by Cathie Dunn on Amazon US and Amazon UK

An invitation to dinner

The tomb of Richard 'Strongbow' de Clare

In 1282 Art and Murtaugh Mac Murrough, two Irish lords of Leinster, went back into revolt. This was despite the best efforts of their kinsman Roger Bigod, Earl of Norfolk, who had tried to negotiate with them on behalf of the king, Edward I.

The reasons for this latest revolt are unclear, but the response of the English government at Dublin was drastic. The justiciar hired a man named Henry Pencoyt, also called Henry FitzRhys, to assassinate the brothers.

Henry was lord of Killahurler, descended from one of the Welsh settler families that had come over to Ireland during Strongbow's invasion in 1171. He was paid £300 in English sterling to do the deed, a very handsome fee, and we also know how he did it.

Art and Murtaugh were invited to dinner at Henry's house in Arklow, a port town south of Dublin. During the night, while they were sleeping, they were killed in their beds. Then their heads were cut off and paraded about Leinster.

This provoked an unseemly squabble. Head-taking was a common practice in Ireland (and, to an extent, in Wales), and part of legal process. The justiciar, Stephen Fulbourne, got himself into trouble by levying a customary fine of 'head-money' on the men of Leinster: this was due for the heads of convicted felons, but Art and Murtaugh had been in the king's peace when they were killed.

Their kinsman, Norfolk – by now thoroughly embarrassed by the whole affair – refused to pay on the grounds that the heads had not been 'approved' by the lord and men of his liberty of Carlow. This meant they had not been viewed and identified by the community.

Attached is a pic of Strongbow's tomb.

Lightning as a hurricane

1137. After his conquest of Armenian Cilicia, John II marched on Antioch in northern Syria. First he sent his son, Alexios, to secure the gateway to Syria by capturing the fortress of Baghras, known as Gaston Castle during the Crusader era.

Baghras (Gaston) castle today

Alexios apparently succeeded, which was no mean feat. Probably built by the Romans in the tenth century, Gaston sits on a rocky peak with steep slopes in an isolated valley. It guards the main route to Antioch through the Belen Pass (also called the Syrian Gates) and the flat plains of Syria beyond the Nur Mountains. 

By the early 12th century the castle was in the hands of the Crusader principality of Antioch. Sometime before 1153 it was transferred to the Templars, who may well have been in possession when Alexis marched up with one part of his father's army. Not much is known of how the young co-emperor took the castle; the poet Italikos praises him for capturing it from the 'Kelts', by which he presumably meant Franks.

The capture of Gaston enabled the emperor to advance on Antioch, and by early summer his forces were blockading the city. Raymond of Poitiers, Prince of Antioch, was absent campaigning against Imad ad-Din Zengi, the Seljuk Turkish ruler or atabeg, who had besieged the King of Jerusalem and his followers at the castle of Montferrand. While Raymond hurried off with a relief army to rescue his king, the Roman emperor descended upon his city.

A ruler in Turkic military dress

As soon as Raymond heard of John's arrival, he turned about and dashed back to Antioch with all speed. Along the way he blundered into some Roman scouts, who almost captured or killed him. More bitter skirmishing followed between imperial troops and the Antiochenes, who barred their gates against the emperor. 

These fights provided some colourful anecdotes. On one occasion, John's men were picking from fruit in the orchards outside Antioch, when the defenders suddenly attacked them. When Roman reinforcements arrived, the Franks fled back inside the city, leaving the Romans to begin siege operations. John's war engines, which had battered down so many Armenian fortresses, hammered the walls with giant stones. At the same time his archers and slingers scoured the walls with missiles as they looked for places to undermine the walls.

John II besieging a city

This barrage was terrifying; Italikos said that John did 'throw lightning as a hurricane' against the Franks, causing them to run and hide. As the storm of missiles rained down, Raymond went to the emperor and begged for a compromise. 

Barbarians and mountains

Tell Hamdun (Topprakale) fortress today

After the capture of Anazarbos, John II set about mopping up the last remaining fortresses in Cilician Armenia. The emperor was now in a hurry to secure his conquest and march on to Antioch in the Holy Land, his main objective. 

Along the way he conquered the strong fortress of Tell Hamdun (modern Toprakkale), a fortified hilltop surrounded by rich, flat farmland, at the confluence of routes between all the major Armenian cities. As such, it was essential for John to capture the fortress before he left Armenia.

An Arabic chronicler, Ibn al-Athir, describes this last stage of John's triumphant campaign:

"He [John] then went to Adana and Masisa, both in the possession of Leo the Armenian, lord of the castles of the Passes. He besieged and took both places. He then moved to 'Ayn Zarba, which he took by assault, and also seized Tell Hamdun. He transferred the population to the island of Cyprus."

From this, it appears the emperor moved the inhabitants of Tell Hamdun to Cyprus, presumably replacing them with a Greek garrison. The island already had an Armenian population, which was to grow further as the century went on; this may indicate that John transferred an entire community to Cyprus, rather than just a garrison. This is consistent with his policy of relocating Serb and Turkic peoples after defeating them in war.

The emperor now began his advance on Antioch. His conquest of Armenia was not quite complete, since he left at least one hostile fortress at his back, as well as recently conquered cities where the loyalty of the inhabitants was fragile. John did at least make some effort to win the population over, restoring order to the war-torn territory and showing tolerance towards Armenian and Syriac churches. 

Armenia had not enjoyed a stable government for over fifty years. Two Roman writers, Italikos and Choniates, praise John as having 'moved barbarians and mountains,' and clearing the roads of bandits. His capture of fortified points created centres of imperial authority, from which his men could bring order to the surrounding countryside. Some evidence is provided by the significant increase in the number of coins minted during this period. 

Another instance of John's merciful attitude is given by Matthew of Edessa, a 12th century Armenian chronicler. Matthew describes how the emperor's father, Alexios I, had forced Armenian Christians to be re-baptised. John reversed this policy, thus earning the goodwill of all Armenians. 

Matilda Maketh Joy

The Dance of Salome by Bennozzo Gozzoli, 1461-2

Matilda Makejoy was a professional acrobatic dancer, also called a salatrix, who performed at the courts of Edward I and Edward II. Very little is known of her background, except she must have been trained from an early age: she first danced before Prince Edward of Caernarfon at Ipswich in 1296, aged thirteen. The prince rewarded her with two shillings.

In early 1298 Matilda was part of a troop of dancers and musicians shipped over to Flanders, in the wake of the truce between Edward I and his rival, Philip the Fair of France. The entertainers performed before Edward and his allies, Count Guy of Flanders and Duke Jan II of Brabant, at the Christmas feast at Ghent. 

A Flemish poet, Lodewijk van Velthem, described the merry-making:

"...that these three rich lords held large feasts, with dinners and plays."

According to van Velthem, the allies competed to see who could hold the most magnificent feast. Unsurprisingly, perhaps, Edward won first prize: he was a king, after all, and richer than any count or duke.

As a salatrix, Matilda would have 'made vaults' i.e. performed rhythmic movements to music, interspersed with spectacular gymnastic displays. These would have included jumps, leaps and somersaults, cartwheels, splits, handstands and walkovers. She would sometimes make use of props such as balls, bells, sticks or even knives and swords.

Matilda's companions were no less interesting. They included a 'citharist' supplied by Hugh Cressingham, Edward's treasurer of Scotland: Hugh was sadly absent from the party, since he had been (allegedly) flayed and turned into a belt by William Wallace. A cither was a type of necked string instrument; the pic below shows a man playing a cythara, from the Stuttgart Psalter. The Welsh variant was called a crwth. 

Other players are listed as Grease-Coat, Maggot and Pearl in the Eye, the latter possibly signifying blindness. They were probably sent home soon after the Christmas festivities, although Matilda remained in royal service until at least 1311, when she and two musicians, Richard Pilke and his wife, performed at Ipswich and Framingham Castle. Afterwards she vanishes from the record, perhaps (we may hope) into a comfortable retirement. 

Flashman at the charge!

 

Let's spice it up with a bit of Harry Flashman. Here is his description of Lord Cardigan:

"...his lordship looked over me in his high-nosed damn-you way which I remembered so well. He would be in his mid-fifties by now, and it showed; the whiskers were greying, the gooseberry eyes were watery, and the legions of bottles he had consumed had cracked the veins in that fine nose of his. But he still rode straight as a lance, and if his voice was wheezy it had lost nothing of its plunger drawl."

I read all of these novels over and over, and they are the reason I became a writer. The author, George MacDonald Fraser, was a genius with a knack for combining historical accuracy with vivid, eloquent, funny prose; Patrick O'Brian is his only rival, in my opinion.

His character, Harry Flashman, is a self-confessed coward who lies and cheats and fornicates his way around the British Empire, from the Crimea to the Indian Mutiny. The novels were initially hailed as a vicious satire on British imperialism, something Fraser always hotly denied. A former soldier, who had served in Burma during World War II, he made a point of declaring himself a proud imperialist, and didn't care who knew it.

Equally, he knew an idiot when he saw one - such as Lord Cardigan - and wasn't afraid to attack sacred cows. To judge from Flashman's accounts, many of the British military victories in this period were won more by luck than design, and achieved in spite of our glorious generals.

The novels are extremely un-PC by modern standards, not least Flashman's frequent use of racist language. If he popped into existence in 2025, he would be cancelled in a little under five seconds - and care not a jot, damn your eyes.

However, these stories are written from the first-person perspective of a 19th century British army officer, and you would expect no less. When I worked in archives I read the journals of some real-life British officers of the period; believe me, Flashman is tame by comparison. We can cope with the reality of our history, or we can stop up our eyes and ears and turn it into something more pleasing. I know what I prefer.

The Hammer of Cilicia

The spectacular ruins of Anavarza, seen from below

1137. John II continued to march through eastern Anatolia, taking city after city. News of his successes reached the ears of Raymond of Antioch, who became seriously alarmed. It looked like the triumphant Roman emperor would batter his way across the continent to the Holy Land,  then set about reconquering the long-lost Roman provinces of the East.

In desperation, Raymond made a bargain with Leon, ruler of Cilicia, whom he had recently captured. Leon agreed to hand over his recent conquests to Raymond, along with a sum of cash, and leave his sons as hostages. As a result of this somewhat one-sided treaty, Raymond and Leon then allied against the emperor.

Meanwhile John marched on Anazarbos, the chief city of Armenian Cilicia. This was guarded by Anavarza castle, the spectacular ruins of which can still be seen today (pictured). They were were protected by high walls on a hill, mounted with siege engines and crammed with soldiers, well-armed and trained. 

The emperor was typically cautious. First he sent forward a band of Turks, who had recently taken part in his conquest of Gangra, to discover if the Armenians would agree to surrender the city without resistance. Unfortunately this ended in disaster, as the Turks were attacked by the garrison, heavily defeated and chased all the way back to the main Roman army.

John then brought up his heavy siege weapons. However, unlike other cities, the defenders returned fire with their own missile throwers; these included burning pellets which set fire to the Roman artillery. More soldiers charged out to inflict further damage, while their comrades taunted John from the walls.  

In contrast to his earlier conquests, Anazarbos was proving a tough nut to crack. John started to lose heart, until his son Alexios suggested the siege weapons should be covered by brick hoardings, to prevent them being set alight. This worked well, and the Romans were able to smash open breaches in the city walls. Some of the defenders begged for mercy, while others retreated to the citadel, where they were prised out after two determined assaults.

Among those taken prisoner were Leon's wife and children. Leon himself may have also been present, but if so he escaped just before the city fell. 

After securing Anazarbos, John now set about reducing the last Armenian strongholds in Cilicia. 

Herakles and Iolaus

John II directing a siege, from a French MS

In summer 1137 John II arrived outside the walls of Tarsus, an ancient city in Anatolia first conquered for the Roman Empire by Pompey the Great in 67 BC. The emperor was joined by the Frankish princes, Raymond of Antioch and Joscelin of Edessa, who came to offer their homage and help him recapture the city.

John had no desire for unnecessary bloodshed. He asked the citizens to surrender, calling on their shared Christianity as well as pointing out that resistance was futile: his combined army of Roman and Frankish troops had Tarsus completely surrounded, so there was no escape.

When the citizens refused, John brought up his siege weapons, described as 'thunderbolts' by the poet Italikos. After a brief bombardment, the citizens came to their senses and decided to surrender after all. John was merciful, making them his allies. Italikos compared John favourably to Alexander the Great, who had slaughtered the entire populations of cities that resisted him. 

Detail of Alexander from the Alexander Sarcophagus

However, the emperor's work was not done. Although the city had surrendered, the garrison still held out at the acropolis. Another Roman poets, Basilakes, described these men as heavily armoured, arrogant barbarians, who chose to resist their lawful emperor despite being 'the countrymen of Saint Paul'. 

To cow them into surrender, John once again brought up his siege weapons. He entrusted this task to his son and co-emperor, Alexios, the young man's first battlefield command. The poets compared the emperor and his son to the ancient Greek heroes, Herakles and Iolaus: the latter was nephew, charioteer and companion to Herakles. In Greek legend they defeated the monstrous Hydra, with Iolaus cauterising each neck as Herakles beheaded it (see below).

Faced with this show of strength, the 'barbarians' in the acropolis also surrendered. After securing the city, John moved to capture more fortified settlements, including Adana and Mopsuestia. During these operations he delegated another task to his heir, sending Alexios off to capture the castle of Gastin. 

Tarsus and Adana were located on the plains, and made relatively easy targets for John's artillery. The citadel of Mopsuestia, however, presented a more formidable obstacle. This occupied a high ridge in the foothills of the Taurus mountains, and might have given the emperor serious trouble. Fortunately, the sheer size of his army, plus the merciful treatment of those who had previously surrendered, persuaded the defenders to submit without a fight.  

With these victories under his belt, John now turned his attention to Anazarbos, the chief city of Armenian Cilica. 

The Cilician Gates

In spring 1137 Emperor John II Komnenos led the Roman army into Cilicia, as part of his effort to reconquer former Roman provinces in Anatolia. 

The army entered via the Cilician Gates, a narrow pass 'above the clouds' in the Taurus Mountains. John's men were immediately assaulted by a hail of missiles, thrown down from above by Armenians waiting in ambush. Undismayed, the emperor led his troops onward through the pass, hacking through the Armenians to storm an unnamed fortress held by 'barbarians'.

The Cilician Gates today

John's deeds were praised by the poet, Italikos, who compared this battle to the famous Battle of Thermopylae, where the Persians were opposed by just 300 Spartans (and several thousand Greek auxiliaries, lest we forget). Italikos also compared John to the classical Greek hero, Theseus, and his defeat of the bandits Skironas and Sinis Pitukamptes on the road between Troezen and Athens. 

The emperor's most recent biographer, Maximilian C.G. Lau, has traced John's route through the mountains and identified the fortress as Gulek Kalesi (castle), the ruins of which still occupy a dizzying height, sixteen hundred metres above sea level. This version is supported by the Anonymous Syriac Chronicle, which describes John arriving in Cilicia through the Gates, and then sending a message to the Latin rulers of the Holy Land, asking them to pay their respects to him. 

Leonidas at Thermopyale by Jacques-Louis David (1814)

John's capture of this fortress secured both the pass and entrance to Cilicia from the north. He was then able to enter the province and advance on the city of Tarsus. Along the way his troops attacked lesser towns and strongholds and fought off Armenian skirmishers. Italikos records a fight at the River Lamos (modern Limonlu) where John's cavalry forced passage across the water. Another detachment was sent off to plunder 'watchful Askora', a rich territory north-west of the Cilician Gates.

Antony & Cleopatra by Edwin Austin Abbey (1909)

Finally, the main body of the imperial army arrived before the gates of Tarsus, famous as the birthplace of St Paul and the place where Mark Antony and Cleopatra first met. Here, John was met by Raymond of Antioch and Joscelin of Edessa, who had responded to his summons to come and pay homage to him. Overjoyed by their arrival, according to the Syriac Chronicle, John now prepared to storm the city. 

A fine head of white hair

On this day in 1408 the battle of Bramham Moor was fought in Yorkshire. This was the last battle of the Percy rebellion against Henry IV, or Henry of Bolingbroke, who had seized the throne from Richard II in 1399.

The Percies posed a serious threat to Henry's fragile regime. In 1403 he had narrowly won the battle of Shrewsbury and killed Henry 'Hotspur', the most famous of the Percy clan. However, pitched battles were rarely decisive, and Shrewsbury did not put an end to the disturbances in England. 

Hotspurs's father, the old Earl of Northumberland, fled to Scotland. In early February 1408 the king was informed that Northumberland and his loyal ally, Thomas Bardolf, had returned to raise a new army from the traditional Percy power base in the north. 

Despite his ill-health, Henry raced north to crush this latest revolt. His loyal sheriff of Yorkshire, Sir Thomas Rokeby, got there ahead of him. After mustering the local levies, Rokeby blocked the path of the rebel army at Grimbald Bridge near Knaresborough. This forced the earl to make a detour via Tadcaster, where his army was quickly surrounded by Lancastrian loyalists. 

Northumberland chose to make a stand on Bramham Moor, south of Wetherby. Battle was joined at about 2pm on 19th February. It probably began with an exchange of arrows, as the longbowmen on both sides sought to thin out the enemy ranks. 

Rokeby's main body then charged. After a brief but savage encounter, the rebels were utterly defeated. Northumberland himself was killed on the field, and Bardolf so badly wounded he died soon afterwards. Their heads were brought to Henry at Stony Stratford; he ordered that of Northumerbland, 'with its fine head of white hair', impaled on a lance and sent south to be displayed on London Bridge. His body was hanged, drawn and quartered and displayed in various towns, as was the custom for those deemed traitors.

The brief battle must have been hellish, fought during one of the harshest winters in living memory. Despite the appalling weather, and his own infirmity, Henry insisted on going north to supervise the mopping-up operations. He spent twelve days at Wheel Hall, south of York, sentencing or pardoning rebels, and then three weeks at Pontefract. By the end of May he was back in London. 

The stress of the revolt and its aftermath was too much for him. Towards the end of June 1408, after moving from London to Mortlake, Henry collapsed. His health would never recover. 

Stones and thunderbolts

The island fortress of Kizkalesi, Mersin Province, Turkey

In spring 1137, after months of preparation, Emperor John II Komnenos set out through the mountain passes of Pampylia. His objective was the coastal fortress of Seleukia, which was besieged by the army of Leon I, ruler of Armenia. After that he intended to conquer the former Roman province of Cilicia in southern Anatolia.

The situation was urgent. Leon had already captured the plains cities of Mopsuestia, Tarsus and Ardana, as well as Sarventikar, an important fortress that guarded the Amanian Gate: this was the main northern pass through the Amanus mountains (the Nur mountains in modern-day Turkey). 

Leon's control of these unstable lands, wracked by so many decades of war, was fragile. They were swarming with bandits, pirates, bands of nomadic Turks, as well as Isaurians still loyal to the distant Emperor in Constantinople. 

To make things worse, Leon himself had been captured by Raymond, the Frankish prince of Antioch, and thrown into prison. His three sons then fell out with each other. The eldest, Constantine, was blinded by his brothers, before they too were captured by the Franks. 

All of which made John II's task that much easier. Marching swiftly through the mountains, he attacked the twin fortresses of Korykos and Kizkalesi (pictured) which had been seized by the Armenians. They were soon bombarded into surrender: the poet, Italikos, described how Korykos was overwhelmed by the stones and 'thunderbolts' of the Emperor's siege weapons. The capture of this fort and its harbour was an essential first step for John's reconquest of Cilicia.

John then moved on towards Seleukia. The Armenians lifted the siege and withdrew, enabling the imperial army to march on towards Cilicia. His men entered the Cilician Gates through a narrow pass 'above the clouds', where they were ambushed by Armenians waiting on the rocky heights above. These men threw missiles down onto the heads of John's soldiers, but after hard fighting the Romans broke through and stormed an unnamed mountain stronghold. 

This stronghold has been identified with Gulek Kalesi (castle), a dramatically situated fortress inside the Taurus Mountains. Set high above the peaks, the castle has been described as:

"...like the nest of some prehistoric bird almost 1600 metres above sea level."

The capture of the fortress secured both the pass and the entrance to Cilicia from the north. John was now poised to drive further into Cilicia, capturing or destroying smaller castles and settlements en route to the plains cities. 

A toothless dog

An image of Edmund of Lancaster and St George

#OTD in 1273 Edmund of Lancaster appealed to the council in London for military aid against Robert de Ferrers, Earl of Derby.

Derby had attacked Chartley in Staffordshire, one of his old manors, and stormed the castle at night. Edmund quickly raised an army to besiege the castle, but needed help to retake it.

This was one of the many private wars raging up and down England, after the death of Henry III the previous November. A few years earlier, Derby had been disinherited by the late king and his sons, and all his vast estates re-granted to Edmund (Henry's second son).

Perhaps unwisely, Derby was then released from custody. He was now a bandit chief, roving about the country with his remaining followers, doing as much damage as possible.

The new king, Edward I, had gone to crush a revolt in Gascony instead of returning to England for his coronation. In his absence, the great lords turned on each other. While the pard is away and all that.

Two days after Edmund's plea, Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, sent a letter to the council. Clare bemoaned the state of England, and warned there could be no peace until the nobles stopped fighting each other.

The red dog, as Clare was called, knew all about that. In May he reached a private agreement with Derby, in which they agreed to support each other against their enemies. This secret deal was witnessed by the Earl of Surrey, John Fitz John and James Audley, a powerful Marcher baron.

Derby had assembled quite the list of allies. Clare and Surrey were two of the wealthiest earls in England, while Fitz John and Audley were powerful and aggressive barons: Fitz John had once earned notoriety by murdering Rabbi Abraham, a rich Jew, on the steps of a synagogue in London.

Meanwhile Edmund recruited the Earl of Lincoln and Reynold Grey, justice of Chester and High Sheriff of Nottingham. Thus, two factions of nobles geared up to attack each other. Another civil war loomed, the third in just over a decade.

Edmund made the first move. Without waiting for a response from Westminster, he and his allies stormed Chartley and butchered the garrison. Derby narrowly escaped the slaughter, while his friends stood by and did nothing. Suddenly the red dog looked rather toothless.

The shoemaker of Rudau

#OTD in 1370 (or the following day) yet another battle was fought between the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and some Western military order types. On this occasion the battle was fought at Rudau, north of Königsberg, and the military types were the Teutonic Knights.

Not much is known of the battle, except the Knights won and probably exaggerated the scale of the victory. Both sides suffered heavy casualties, though the Lithuanians had to retreat to a hastily built barricade inside a forest. Despite the loss, they were still capable of military action in the following years.

The battle inspired a local legend that an apprentice shoemaker, Hans von Sagan, picked up the Teutonic banner after the standard-bearer had been killed. He then rallied the Knights and led them to victory. When asked what he would like for a reward, Hans requested that the burghers of Kneiphof receive annual beer from Königsberg Castle. This beer, traditionally granted on Ascension Day, became popularly known through Königsberg as 'Schmeckbier'.

According to Wiki, Hans probably didn't exist, but was based on the real-life Duke Balthasar of Żagań. He was a Polish nobleman who served in the Teutonic Knights and was eventually starved to death by his brother. Which is nice.

Bruce and 'le droite'

On 16 February 1302 Edward I issued a pardon to Robert de Bruce. Coincidentally or not, this was the expiry date for the arrival of French agents in Scotland. Via his own treaty, Philip the Fair was supposed to send his officers to take custody of lands in Scotland conquered by Edward the previous autumn.

In the event, not a single Frenchman set foot on Scottish soil. Edward, who had carried on stocking his garrisons in Scotland, was left free to secure his gains. These consisted of lands and castles in SW Scotland.

As for Bruce, he had freely entered into a pact with Longshanks, just like his father and grandfather before him. The terms of this agreement centred upon Edward's promise to help Bruce pursue his 'right', if and when John Balliol returned to Scotland.

The precise meaning of the 'right' (le droit) is uncertain. It was obviously a cause of anxiety to Bruce, and he and Edward discussed the matter with remarkable frankness. If anything occured to threaten Bruce's right - whatever it was - the king swore to uphold the Bruce cause.

The 'right' probably did not refer to Bruce's claim to the throne. Edward had long since abandoned his experiment with puppet kings in Scotland, and was unlikely to reverse his policy for Bruce's sake alone. Instead the right almost certainly referred to his claim to the earldom of Carrick, and expectant right to his father's estates in Scotland and England.

Attached is a pic of some guy dressed as Bruce. I'm running out of relevant Brucey pics, so might have to dress up myself soon. Look out for that.

Scotland's Medieval Queens

Scotland’s Inspiring Medieval Queens

By Sharon Bennett Connolly

The inspiration for Scotland’s Medieval Queens came primarily from a conversation with my son after his GCSE English Lit class a few years ago. He was studying The Tragedy of Macbeth and was quite perturbed with the way Shakespeare had portrayed Lady Macbeth. In no uncertain terms, I was told, ‘Mum, you need to set the record straight!’

So, I got to thinking….

I didn’t need much persuading. I have loved Scottish History ever since reading Nigel Tranter’s The Bruce Trilogy many years ago. And, of course, there was The Outlaw King, in which the roles of the women in Robert the Bruce’s life had their roles downplayed or ignored. 

All this, and my son and Lady Macbeth gave me the kernel of an idea.

There is not enough information about Gruoch to write an entire book about her, but what if I start with her and develop the idea to include all of Scotland’s medieval queens? If you have read my blog, or Heroines of the Medieval World, you will know of my interest in Scottish history and, in particular, St Margaret, the women of the Bruce family and Joan Beaufort, Queen of Scots as the wife of James I. I already had the beginnings of the book.

Scottish history is fascinating! It is violent, politically charged and passionate. Being inconveniently situated on England’s northern border was never easy for Scotland, but it has made for some great stories over the centuries. Scotland’s story is often that of brother against brother, ambition and family rivalries causing feuds that threatened the stability of the crown itself. Such fissures, of course, grew and ruptured with the aid of English interference and encouragement. The King of England was always happy to play one side off against the other if it weakened Scotland’s position. 

And Scotland’s medieval queens, be they Scottish, English, Danish or French, formed a big part of that story.

More often than not, these disputes north and south of the border were resolved in peace treaties, sealed by wedding bells. A number of English princesses and noblewomen found themselves married to Scotland’s kings as a consequence. 

The longest period of peace between the two countries was in the thirteenth century, when Henry III’s daughter, Margaret, married Alexander III, King of Scots. It is probably unsurprising, given the history between the two countries, that the long peace was shattered by the death of  Margaret and Alexander’s granddaughter, little Margaret, the Maid of Norway, which gave Edward I of England the opportunity to direct Scotland’s affairs. Margaret’s death left the Scots throne vacant, with thirteen Competitors vying for the crown, staking their claims as Edward acted as adjudicator.

Suffice it to say, Scotland’s turbulent history is often linked with that of England.

Scotland’s Medieval Queens aims to put the women at the forefront of Scotland’s story, to highlight their role and influence on Scottish history and on Scotland’s kings, culture and landscape. These women, however, did not act wholly independently, so while this book brings their actions into the limelight, it will be always within the context of the wider story of Scotland, from the eleventh to the fifteenth century.

Authors often say their book was ‘a labour of love’ but I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of writing Scotland’s Medieval Queens. They were strong, intelligent women who faced their challenges head on. They didn’t always make the right decisions – but who does? But they fought – for their families and their country. Each and every one of Scotland’s Queens was an inspiration and I feel honoured to have had the opportunity to tell their stories.

Author bio:

Sharon Bennett Connolly is the best-selling author of several non-fiction history books. Her latest, Scotland’s Medieval Queens, will be released in January 2025. A Fellow of the Royal Historical Society, Sharon has studied history academically and just for fun – and has even worked as a tour guide at Conisbrough Castle. She also writes the popular history blog, www.historytheinterestingbits.com and co-hosts the podcast A Slice of Medieval, alongside historical novelist Derek Birks. Sharon regularly gives talks on women's history, for historical groups, festivals and in schools; her book Silk and the Sword: The Women of the Norman Conquest is a recommended text for teaching the Norman Conquest in the National Curriculum. She is a feature writer for All About History and Living Medieval magazines and her TV work includes Australian Television's 'Who Do You Think You Are?'

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