Showing posts with label King Charles II. Show all posts
Showing posts with label King Charles II. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

The Royal Escape from Brighton by Rosemary Morris



For more information about Rosemary's books please click on the cover above.


The Royal Escape from Brighton

The town in which my next Classical Regency Romance, Saturday’s Child is set

Today, visitors flock to Brighton to visit George IV’s Royal Pavilion, to shop in The Lanes as well as enjoying everything else the vibrant seaside town has to offer. Less well known are the events which took place there during the English Civil War when family loyalties either to the Crown or Commonwealth split them apart.

Bodiam Castle was damaged by Commonwealth soldiers who also destroyed Arundel Castle. Without any prominent Royalists in the area it seems most landlubbers, fishermen and their families favoured the Commonwealth. Nevertheless, some landowners and well-to-do traders supported Charles II.

After Commonwealth troops defeated the royalist army at the Battle of Worcester on the third of September 1651, except for Lord Wilmot, Charles II dismissed his followers. The distinctive two yards tall, dark complexioned king was hunted but always managed to escape. Once he hid high up in an oak tree while soldiers search for him beneath it. Elsewhere the king was sometimes recognised but not betrayed. If he had been caught, he would have become a pawn or, maybe, like his father Charles I, have been beheaded.

On the thirteenth of October the king set out for Brighthelmstone, Brighton’s previous name, where Wilmot had been in contact with Colonel Gunter, the king’s loyal supporter. On the fourteenth his majesty was accommodated in the George Inn, and Gunter paid a merchant sixty pieces of silver to transport two illegal duellists, aka the king and Wilmot, across the English Channel to France. However, when Tattersall, the captain of the brig, met the king he recognised him but remained silent until they were alone, when he knelt and kissed the royal hand.

On the brink of departure from Shoreham, the king spent the night at Bramber a small village. There, after six weeks during which he hid in priest’s holes, slept on pallets on the floor and endured danger and discomfort, he almost encountered Commonwealth soldiers.

I can only imagine Charles II’s profound relief when he reached Shoreham harbour in time to board the brig and at 4 a.m. on the fifteenth of October and departed. Almost ten years later he returned to England where he succeeded to the throne.


Classical Historical Fiction by Rosemary Morris

Early 18th Century novels: Tangled Love, Far Beyond Rubies, The Captain and The Countess

Regency Novels False Pretences.

Heroines Born on Different Days of the Week Books One to Six, Sunday’s Child, Monday’s Child, Tuesday’s Child, Wednesday’s Child, Thursday’s Child and Friday’s Child.

(The novels in the series are not dependent on each other, although events in previous novels are referred to and characters reappear.)

Mediaeval Novel Yvonne Lady of Cassio. The Lovages of Cassio Book One

www.rosemarymorris.co.uk

http://bookswelove.net/authors/morris-rosemary

Sunday, November 4, 2018

Ding-dang Ruthless Justice by Katherine Pym





~*~*~*~

Cromwell's Death Mask
Over the centuries, public executions were entertainment. Crowds gathered en masse to watch these events. They brought their children and baskets of food. They picnicked and laughed.



Justice would not allow a guilty person to escape his sentence. One such fellow condemned to be hanged found a way to escape when brought to the gallows.



As the magistrates hauled the poor fellow to the hanging tree, his legs shackled, the condemned man dodged a guard and scampered away. The crowd impeded the goalers from catching him. He ran down the hill and jumped into the river. The weight his restraints pulled him under and he drowned.



Not content to have the prisoner die before being properly hanged, the authorities hauled him sopping wet and completely dead, back to the noose, and there hanged him with his fellow prisoners. They did this during the French Revolution, too, threw a dead person in the tumbril to suffer the same fate as those around him. Guillotined, the most humane way to go, or so it is reported.

Enter Oliver Cromwell, who succumbed to what experts feel was malarial fever on the proverbial dark and stormy night in Whitehall, Sept 3rd, 1658. His enemies described the storm as the devil dragging the great saint to hell.


John Bradshaw
Cromwell’s men wanted a sumptuous funeral that would rival King James I’s. They gutted and embalmed him, his coffin filled with spices, but for some reason his body rapidly decayed. It was reportedly so putrid that the body ruptured, leaving a horrendous miasma which leaked through the seams of the coffin.


Henry Ireton
This left no opportunity for Cromwell to lay in state or be paraded through the city. He was buried quickly in Westminster Abbey alongside England’s kings and queens. Later, to appease the populace, an effigy replaced the body for viewing. An empty coffin was hauled through the city streets.

In 1660, King Charles II returned from exile. He did not seek utter reprisal, but he could not let those who killed his father escape without some sort of comment.


Tyburn Gallows


Of the 59 regicides who signed the death warrant, 39 were alive at the Restoration. Of these, several were in self-exile, a few exonerated. Of those executed, some met a grisly end.



Really horrible so I won’t bother telling the details but I’ll tell you the following:



Three high on the list to meet justice were Oliver Cromwell, Henry Ireton, & John Bradshaw, all dead and buried in Westminster Abbey. Their bodies were ordered exhumed, hanged and beheaded.


King Charles I at his trial
January 30th, 1661 (Gregorian calendar), they were pulled from their resting places and dragged to Tyburn. Since Cromwell’s burial had been so regal, his body wrapped in a thick shroud, it took several strikes of the axe to behead him. The three dead men swung from the gallows, then beheaded, their bodies shoved in unmarked graves beneath Tyburn. Their heads were impaled on pikes and set on the roof of the Westminster, where they remained for 20-30 years. One night, during another dark and stormy night, Cromwell’s head was struck by lightning, which fell to the ground and was spirited away.



There are several stories about where the head bounced. 
In the ensuing years, Cromwell’s head was considered a conversation piece put on display. Men of knowledge considered the head more than likely genuine. It is rumored someone finally put it in a biscuit tin and buried it. One source states it was interred in 1960 in Cromwell’s old college chapel, its exact location concealed. 

~*~*~*~

Many thanks to Wikicommons, Public domain &



















Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Secret Service, Spies, and Underhanded Dealings during 17th Century By Katherine Pym







 ~*~*~*~
Per Violet Barbour, author of Henry Bennet, earl of Arlington, (published 1914), “The ministers of King Charles II were not chosen for their honesty…” 

Henry Bennett, Earl of Arlington
 This did not make Charles II a stupid man, but one who had gone through years of hardship. He was cautious. His life had often been imperiled.  Men had conspired against him, or tried to rule him.  It left its mark.  To watch for underhanded dealings during his reign, the king sought individuals who would meet toe-to-toe those who threatened him, and his court. 

King Charles II
On one hand Charles II filled his court with frivolity. He played, danced, and allowed his dogs to soil the palace. He and his brother, the Duke of York, loved the theatre, and supported their own troupes.  Charles II allowed women on stage.

On the other hand, Charles II inherited a land filled with uneasy, restless, and bitter malcontents whose very existence shattered with the fall of the Commonwealth.  Rarely opening up to anyone, the king did not trust easily.  He expected attempts on his life, or efforts to overthrow his monarchy. 

Death mask, Cromwell
During the Cromwell days, John Thurloe was the head of espionage. As Secretary of State under Cromwell, he sent out spies to cull out plots from within the Protectorate’s government. His spy network was extensive. He employed men – and women – who were, on the surface, stalwart royalists. His spies could be located in every English county, overseas, i.e., in Charles II’s exiled court, in the America’s, and the far Indies. 

Sir Samuel Moreland
Thurloe compiled lists, sent spies into enemy camps, had men tortured and killed. One such fellow, Samuel Morland, and assistant to Thurloe under Cromwell, confessed to witnessing a man ‘trepanned to death’ at Thurloe’s word.  (Dictionary.com states the following definition to trepan:  a tool for cutting shallow holes by removing a core.”)  Not a nice way to go.  

Thurloe, Cromwell's spymaster
Thurloe orchestrated the Sir Richard Willis Plot, wherein the king and duke would be lured out of exile to the Sussex coast.  Once the brothers disembarked, they would be instantly murdered. 

This plot failed. 

Commonwealth spies infiltrated homes, churches, and businesses to destroy the royalist enemy, and under Charles II’s, his government did the same.  Their goal was to destroy nonconformists, or “fanaticks”. Depending who was in power, plots were a part of political life. 

After the Restoration, Thurloe was dismissed, but not executed for crimes against the monarchy (Charles I and II). He was let go for exchange of valuable Commonwealth government documents. 

During the king’s exile, Sir Edward Nicholas held the position of Secretary of State, but he was old, nearly age 70. Within two years of the Restoration, Charles II replaced him with Sir Henry Bennet, who took charge of the Crown’s espionage. October 15, 1662, he was appointed Secretary of State.  

Sir Joseph Williamson, Charles II spymaster
Joseph Williamson worked for Bennet as the undersecretary.  Williamson was born for this work. He took the bull by the horns and enhanced the processes Thurloe had begun.  Williamson built a brilliant spy network.  He allowed informers who, for money, turned on associates.  He burrowed spies into households, businesses, and churches.  He used grocers, doctors and surgeons, anyone who would send him notes against persons who were against the king. He had men overseas watching for any plots against the king. Informants were everywhere. 

His tools were numerous.  He loved ciphers, and cipher keys. Doctor John Wallis was an expert in this who worked under Thurloe and Bennet. The man could crack a code in nothing flat.  Williamson, known as Mr. Lee in the underworld, used the Grand Letter Office for ciphered messages to pass back and forth between the undersecretary’s office and the spies. He expected his spies to keep him informed by ciphered letters at the end of each day, and passed through the post office. 

Williamson obtained ambassador letters, had them opened and searched for underhanded deceit. He developed a system of local informers, letters and money crossing palms.  Under Thurloe, the secret service received £800 per year. Under Bennet, the money doubled. Most of the annual budget was spent on spies and keeping them alive. 

~*~*~*~

Many thanks to: Wikicommons, Public Domain &

Marshall, Alan, Intelligence and Espionage in the Reign of Charles II, 1660-1685, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge 1994.




Monday, December 4, 2017

Spies and Underhanded Dealings during the 17th Century by Katherine Pym



Use Coupon
~*~*~*~*~


“The ministers of King Charles II were not chosen for their honesty…”  Violet Barbour, author of Henry Bennet, earl of Arlington, (published 1914).

King Charles II

King Charles II did not trust anyone. When in exile, and after the Restoration, his life was often imperilled. There were several assassination attempts on his and his brothers’ lives.  

During the Cromwell days, John Thurloe was head of espionage. As Secretary of State, he sent out spies to cull out plots from within the Protectorate’s government. His spy network was extensive. He employed men – and women – who were, on the surface, stalwart royalists. His spies could be located in every English county, overseas, i.e., in Charles II’s exiled court, in the Americas, and the far Indies. 

The king and company considered the spies ardent Royalists and frolicked with the best of them. Everyone played as well as they could considering how poor the king was. He went from one royal house to another, hoping for shelter and sustenance. He had mistresses and already fathered the 1st Duke of Monmouth.

Mr. John Thurloe, Cromwell's Spymaster

Apparently, Cromwellian spies had too good a time or perhaps they worked too slowly. Thurloe decided it was time to murder the king and his brothers. He orchestrated the Sir Richard Willis Plot, where the brothers would be lured out of exile to the Sussex coast.  Once the brothers disembarked on shore, they would be instantly murdered.  It failed because Thurloe and Cromwell discussed this in front of the clerk, Mr Morland, whom they thought slept. Morland listened to everything the men said. As soon as he could, the clerk informed the king’s court, then located in in Bruges.   

Mr Morland, a clerk under Thurloe
Even as this plot failed, Commonwealth spies infiltrated homes, churches and businesses to destroy the royalist enemy. Thurloe compiled lists, sent spies into enemy camps, had men tortured and killed. Mr Morland confessed to witnessing a man ‘trepanned to death’ at Thurloe’s word.  

Trepanned Skull

It did not matter who was in power, plots were part of the political life. Under Charles II’s, his government did the same.  Their goal was to destroy nonconformists, or fanaticks.

The king inherited a land filled with restless people and bitter malcontents. After the Restoration, Thurloe was dismissed, but not executed for crimes against the monarchy (Charles I and II). He was let go for exchange of valuable Commonwealth secrets.

Charles II replaced Thurloe with Sir Henry Bennet and appointed him as Secretary of State. Bennet brought on board Joseph Williamson who was born to this work.

Mr Joseph Williamson, King Charles II Spymaster
Williamson took the bull by the horns and enhanced the processes Thurloe had begun.  He built a brilliant spy network. An attractive man, he persuaded men and women to turn on associates.  He burrowed spies into households, businesses, and churches.  He used grocers, doctors and surgeons, anyone who would send him notes on persons who were against the king. He had men overseas watching for any plots against the crown.

His tools were numerous.  He loved ciphers, and cipher keys. Doctor John Wallis was an expert in this who worked under Thurloe and Bennet. The man could crack a code in nothing flat.  Williamson, known as Mr. Lee in the underworld, used the Grand Letter Office for ciphered messages to pass back and forth between the undersecretary’s office and his spies. He expected them to keep him informed by ciphered letters at the end of each day, and passed through the post office.

Williamson obtained letters from ambassadors of other countries living in England. His clerks int he post office opened and searched the letters for underhanded deceit. Williamson developed a system of local informers, letters and money crossing palms.  Under Thurloe, the secret service received £800 per year. Under Bennet, the money doubled. Most of the annual budget was spent on spies and keeping them alive.

It was an underhanded world in the 17th century but I can probably say, and be correct, almost every king and queen in every century had their spy networks. It was precarious business to sit on a throne and watch your back for daggers and pistols pointing at it. 

Life is tenuous at the top. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Many thanks to Henry Bennet, earl of Arlington by Violet Barbour, Historian of Vasser, 1914, & wikicommons public domain for the pictures. 


For more on spies and underhanded deeds, please see my Jasper's Lament, a story of the 2nd Anglo/Dutch war buildup. 

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Saturday, March 4, 2017

Palace of Whitehall, Part II by Katherine Pym





 
Previously, I told you the history of Whitehall Palace, its beginnings and its end. Today, I want to talk of the structure, and how London’s activities affected Whitehall Palace. 

Whitehall Palace


Part II, Other stuff about Whitehall:

Castles have a tendency to be drafty, and it was no different with the Palace of Whitehall. Due to the compilation of various buildings crammed together, the palace was more drafty than normal. During storms, winds whistled down chimneys and spread ash across the chambers. Fires sparked, then smoldered.   

London and its suburbs used sea coal and brown coal to heat their homes. It was inferior and smoked. London also seemed to have existed under a pall of inversion. Smoke and pollution hung stagnant over the city and its suburbs for weeks on end.

Coal was used to brew ale or beer. Dyers used coal to heat water. Soap boilers manufactured their product with ash. Glass houses, founders and most industries used coal for their fires and their products. As a result, smoke settled heavy on everything with a gritty dust. Not a good place for asthmatics, the air was hard to breathe.

John Evelyn (1620-1706) loved London. He observed everything within and without the great city. 

In 1661, he wrote Fumifugium: or, The Inconvenience of the AER, and SMOAKE of London Dissipate, a diatribe of the damages smoke can do to a person, city, and anything alive. In this pamphlet, he also proposed remedies for this damage. This, he gave to King Charles II in the year of his coronation (1661).

A visit to Whitehall provoked Evelyn to write this pamphlet. While he strolled through the palace, looking for a glimpse of His Royal Majesty, Evelyn said, “a presumptuous smoke issuing from one or two tunnels near Northumberland House, and not far from Scotland Yard, did so invade the Court that all the rooms, galleries, and places about it were filled and infested with it, and that to such a degree, as men could hardly discern one another for the cloud...”

Apparently, the smoke was so thick in the palace, people had to stretch their arms to make it from room to room. I can imagine with the uneven floors, bridges, and stairways that linked strange floor levels, this could be dangerous.

Evelyn continues, “...upon frequent observation, but it was this alone, and the trouble that it must needs procure to Your Sacred Majesty, as well as hazard to your health…” Yes, wandering a palace so filled with smoke, it would be difficult to breathe, to see without your eyes tearing.

In 1662 a strong storm hit London, and Whitehall was not spared. A few fires started but fortunately, they were doused without any real damage. After this, regulations were enforced to have at each hearth a leather bucket filled with water.

In 1691, Whitehall nearly burned down. By this time, it was a maze of complexity, and the largest palace in Europe. On April 10th of this year, a fire broke out that damaged a great deal of the structure(s), but not the State Apartments. By this time, William III and Mary II lived most of the time in Kensington Palace.

Then, in 1698 what remained of Whitehall burned, along with many treasures garnered over the ages. Among other treasures, scholars believe Michelangelo’s Cupid, the Portrait of Henry VIII, and Bernini’s marble bust of King Charles I were all lost.

John Evelyn wrote: “Whitehall burnt! Nothing but walls and ruins left.”

Can you imagine the stories those old walls could have told, so rich, historical, and often tragic.

Sources:
Adrian Tinniswood. By Permission of Heaven, The true Story of the Great Fire of London. Riverhead Books, NY, 2003

John Evelyn. Fumifugium: Or, The Inconvenience of the AER, and SMOAKE of London Dissipated. Together With some Remedies humbly proposed by J.E. Esq; To His Sacred MAJESTIE, and To the Parliament now Assemble. Published by His Majesties Command. London 1661


Saturday, June 4, 2016

The Up & Down Again British Crown Jewels by Katherine Pym



Crown Jewels
For some reason, to-be monarchs expect to be surrounded by gold, silver and jewels when crowned and when they attend state ceremonies. In the old days—really old like ancient times—it is said those who wore crowns were set a part. They were different than the everyday guy who walked the dusty paths of the planet.

The Up:
Over the years, the British crown jewels piled up, including gold thread, silver and gold plate, embedded with precious metals and stones. Their worth cannot be calculated. Well, I suppose it can but my sources won’t do it, and who am I to argue? I could easily say their worth is in the millions and millions or more.

British Imperial State Crown
The British Imperial State Crown is mounted with more than 3000 precious jewels. It must be very heavy after a few hours. Whoever wears this crown will have a sore neck and shoulders for several days afterward. 

Tower of London
The Maltese cross at the top of this crown has a great sapphire. Legend says it came from Edward the Confessor’s ring. It was removed from his finger after his death and before his coffin was sealed. The Stuart sapphire at the back of the crown may have come from Scotland in 1214.

The Down:
King Charles I had a hard time of it almost from the get-go. He married a Roman Catholic girl, which was hugely frowned upon. He allowed her to remain Catholic. He trussed up the Church of England to be more papist.

He annoyed a lot of people who wanted the church services less papist. They wanted music during services to cease, and they were tired of statues, gold and jewels shining from the altar, the stained glass windows.

Scepter
The man in charge of the crown jewels at this time was Sir Henry Mildmay, a royalist who jumped over to the Parliamentary side soon after Charles I left London to fight in the civil wars. Two years into the fighting, Parliament ordered the royal plate be melted down. Some argued the plate was ancient, the decorations worth more than the plate, but they were shouted down.

Historical treasures of banqueting plate and coronets worth in today’s market of almost £388,000 were melted and minted. After the fighting was over, the king lost his head and most royalists fled or fell under the Commonwealth rule. It didn’t take long for Parliament to sell the king’s personal estate and the crown jewels.

Sir Henry Mildmay was summoned to make an inventory. Once a royalist who changed sides, now he was royalist again. He locked the Jewel House door and wouldn’t come out. It was a standoff of 6 weeks. Finally, Parliament grew frustrated and stormed the building. Henry Mildmay was flung into Fleet prison.

All the gold and silver was melted down and the jewels sold off. They had destroyed the holy relics of a monarchical system that had lasted for centuries.

Up Again:
When King Charles II returned from exile in 1660, Sir Henry Milmay was again summoned to the palace. He feared for his life and tried to run away but was caught. He was sentenced to be dragged through the streets each year on the anniversary of King Charles I’s death (end of January per the Julian calendar).

Nothing remained of the original crown jewels or coronation regalia. A local goldsmith was called in where, for a mere £1.6 (modern costs), he made duplicates of the old jewels.

After King Charles II’s coronation all the jewels and regalia were stored in the White Tower in the Tower of London. It was where William the Conqueror had stored his treasure but moved again after the great fire of 1666 to the Martin Tower.

Colonel Thomas Blood
Down Again:
The only successful person to steal the crown jewels was Colonel Blood (yes, a real name, and he wasn’t a pirate). Blood was an unhappy man who had done well under Cromwell. It annoyed him when his government failed and he lost all his lands in Ireland.

The way he did it was interesting:
In early 1671 Blood, disguised as an old, grizzly clergyman, went to view the crown jewels with his supposed ‘wife’. The caretaker and his family lived on the floor above. Happy to oblige, the caretaker showed them the jewels.

Suddenly the clergyman’s wife bent over, groaning of a terrible stomachache. The caretaker took the poor, sad lady to his apartments, where his wife took care of her. The next day, the old couple returned, this time with a pair of gloves for the caretaker’s wife, in thanks for her care of the old woman.

The couples became friends. The clergyman and his wife visited often. It gave Blood plenty of time to study the layout of the protected jewels.

While friends, Blood said he had a nephew who would be a perfect suitor for the caretaker’s daughter. They should meet. The caretaker and his wife agreed.

With other men waiting nearby, Blood and his ‘nephew’ arrived early at Martin’s Tower. While the caretaker’s wife and daughter were still getting ready, Blood asked if they could show the nephew the crown jewels.

Blood and the nephew surprised the caretaker, bound and gagged him; then Blood’s gang went to work. They removed selected items, stashed them in overly baggy clothes or beat them with mallet until they were flattened and easily hidden.

Unfortunately, they were caught when the caretaker’s son surprised them. The gang was overpowered and their robbery foiled.

King Charles II

Up Again:
Blood was taken into custody and housed in the Tower which was a dark place in the 17th century. When taken for interrogation, Blood refused to talk to anyone but the king. Everyone was surprised when he agreed. After quite a long discussion between Charles II and Blood, the king, humored by Blood’s daring, pardoned him and restored his lost lands in Ireland to him.

Many thanks to:
Harnrahan, David C. Colonel Blood, The man who Stole the Crown Jewels. Sutton Publishing, Ltd., UK, 2003
Tales from the Tower, Secrets and Stories from a Gory and Glorious Past. Think Books, London, 2006
&
Wikicommons, Public Domain

 

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