by Max Adams
The combination of rocky citadel, imposing location and magnificent buildings, together with the technical marvel of the well (recently excavated and found to be rock-cut to an extraordinary depth of one hundred and forty-four feet) reflected the power and pretensions of the Bernician kings.9 No child growing up there could fail to have his or her imagination stirred by such a back yard, standing indomitable against the batterings of the North Sea and all would-be invaders.
Those whose imaginations struggle with black and white plans of walls and post-holes must visit Bede’s World in Jarrow where, in the shadow of Bede’s own monastic church, cows, geese and pigs with convincing Dark Age grunts and smells provide the backdrop for halls and sunken huts, which would have been the entirely familiar playgrounds of the children of Æthelfrith and Acha. Literary support for the mentality and motivations of those who used them comes from the greatest early Anglo-Saxon poem, Beowulf; and no less a critic than the scholar J. R. R. Tolkien made the explicit link between Beowulf and Oswald as long ago as 1936.10 So, if we cannot portray Oswald physically as an individual, we can at least picture his milieu and his circumstances. For a start, he was the oldest of his several natural brothers but he had a half-brother who was probably somewhat older than him—perhaps twenty years older.*8
Father and half-brother spent much of the year campaigning in foreign lands for glory and the rewards of conquest. King Æthelfrith, we know, fought against the Scots of Dál Riata, the British of the Forth and of Gwynedd and the fabled King Urien of Rheged; he was a busy warlord. At other times the peripatetic Bernician kings progressed through their estates, consuming the fruits of tribute rendered from the fertile Northumbrian soil. Several of these estates can be reconstructed in outline. Their principal palace site, Yeavering (Bede’s Ad Gefrin), which lay at the foot of an imposing Iron Age hill fort and ‘holy mountain’ on the northern edge of the Cheviot Hills, was brilliantly excavated in the 1950s and early 1960s. The site of Old Yeavering in the dale of the River Glen is a place to pause and absorb a sense of history and myth. Glendale now is a forgotten corner of England, nestled within sight of the Scottish border in a dramatic natural amphitheatre. But it has featured in more than its fair share of history, as a strategic corridor for armies entering or leaving northern England and a bottleneck ripe for ambush. Here in 1513 an English army inflicted a terrible defeat on the Scots at Flodden Field; just to the east, below Humbleton Hill, is the site of another Anglo-Scottish conflict, immortalised in Shakespeare’s Henry IV as the place from where noble, soil-stained Sir Walter Blunt brought news of Earl Douglas’s discomfiture and Harry ‘Hotspur’ Percy’s capture of the Earl of Fife: a ‘gallant prize’.11 Earlier, almost lost in the mists of time, the Annales Cambriae record the River ‘Glein’ as the site of the first of Arthur’s legendary twelve battles.
In the days of Kings Æthelfrith, Edwin and Oswald the greatest architectural feats since the end of the Roman Empire stood here as symbols of royal power: a palace complex, noble halls of great technical complexity and grandeur and, wonder of wonders, a grandstand unique in its period. In a pagan temple offerings were made to the gods and tribal totems of the Bernicians; immense herds of cattle, the surplus wealth of the land and the tributary tax of subject kingdoms were corralled and counted; and the family of Æthelfrith could take comfort from the knowledge that the most powerful warlord in early Britain was unchallenged by any other earthly force. So complacent were the Bernician kings in their golden hall that no defences were ever constructed at Yeavering, a place of tribal assembly, judgement and ritual since time out of mind.
During great festivals, the cream of Northumbrian society gathered in the mead halls of Bamburgh, Yeavering or one of the other royal vills.*9 Mead flowed, tall tales grew taller, gifts of rings and torcs were made, alliances cemented or broken, troths plighted and promises made and regretted. Small boys being small boys, no doubt conversations were overheard which were meant to be private and neglected cups were drained by aspiring warriors who should have been in bed.
One wonders what status Oswald enjoyed with his father and half-brother. His moral authority among younger siblings was one thing, but half-siblings are another; jealousies are easily fostered. Anglo-Saxon warlords did not name heirs; kings were chosen by the political elite from a pool of athelings, those whose blood and personal attributes entitled them to be considered; those who survived. In his time Eanfrith would make one disastrous bid for the kingdom of Northumbria; Oswald would wait his turn. His relationship with his father was terminated when he was twelve. Oswald would not see his home or native land again until he was twenty-nine.
*1The epigraphs which head each chapter are from a work generally known as Anglo-Saxon Maxims II, because there is something similar in the Exeter Book known as Maxims I. British Library Cotton MS Tiberius B.i ff. 115r-v. The translations are adapted from Tom Shippey’s Poems of learning and wisdom in Old English. Cambridge: D. S. Brewer 1976.
*2See Glossary, Appendix C, p.409.
*3Rex Norðanhymbrorum, king of the Northumbrians: the term was first applied by Bede to King Edwin in II.5 of his Ecclesiastical History of the English People (Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum), abbreviated to EH by historians.
*4See Chapter IV.
*5Oswudu has been left out of the genealogical table In Appendix B, p.408, because I suspect him to be the same as Osguid, mis-transcribed.
*6Historia Regum (HR) sub anno 774. Symeon’s authorship of the Historia Regum is no longer acceptable. Hunter-Blair 1964.
*7See Chapter VII.
*8The dynamics of such families haven’t changed much; my own mother was one of eleven and the second-hand mythology of that Midlands family growing up during the Second World War is enough to fill the imagination with plenty of food for thought.
*9Villa regia: a royal estate. See Colgrave and Mynors 1969, 188. See also Glossary, Appendix C, p.415.
Notes for the preview of King in the North
ABBREVIATIONS
HB
Nennius’s Historia Brittonum
EH
Bede’s Ecclesiastical History
ASC
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle
LC
Life of Colomba
HA
Historia Abbatum
WLG
Whitby Life of Gregory
AC
Annales Cambriae
PLC
Bede’s Prose Life of St Cuthbert
VW
Vita Wilfridi
HTSC
Historia Translationum Sancti Cuthberti auctore anonymo
HSC
Historia de Sancto Cuthberto
Chapter I
1 Nennius: Historia Brittonum (HB) 70; ed. J. Morris 1980.
2 Rackham 2006, 150.
3 Beowulf trans. and ed. Alexander 2014–31.
4 Ecclesiastical History of the English People (EH) (Historia Ecclesiastica) III.5.
5 EH II.5.
6 HB 57; Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (ASC) Recension E sub anno 617.
7 Groves 2011.
8 Retrieved from an online article by Project Director Graeme Young: www.btinternet.com/~graemeyoung/BowlHole.htm 13.07.2012.
9 Young 2003, 18.
10 Tolkien 1936.
11 Henry IV Part I, Act I, Scene 1.
Available now
Picture Section
1. The Side, Newcastle, in 1834, looking up from Sandhill and the Quayside towards the cathedral. In Collingwood’s day it was ‘from one end to the other filled with shops of merchants, goldsmiths, milliners and upholsterers’. (By kind permission of Newcastle Libraries and Information Service)
2. Collingwood’s birthplace, 1855. The Collingwoods had lived in the tall house in the foreground, at the top of the Side, within a biscuit’s toss of the Norman ‘New’ castle. (Newcastle Libraries and Information Service)
3. Collingwood as an admiral, old before his time. Jane Austen wrote of admirals that ‘they are all knocked about,
and exposed to every climate, and every weather, until they are not fit to be seen. It is a pity they are not knocked on the head at once…’ Portrait by Henry Howard, 1769–1847, oil on canvas, 1807. (National Portrait Gallery, London)
4. Master’s mate Collingwood’s survey of the harbor at Mahon, 1770. His attention to detail was obvious at an early age. (By kind permission of the Collingwood family)
5. The title page of Collingwood’s log aboard the Liverpool, a 28-gun frigate, on which he served in the Mediterranean between 1767 and 1771. (The Collingwood family)
6. A page from Collingwood’s log aboard Portland, the 50-gun ship on which he sailed to the West Indies for the first time. The lower two entries recount the fate of Thomas Bradley, the man who had falsely accused boatswain Harris of embezzlement and whose punishment was 300 lashes. (The Collingwood family)
7. Boston in the age of revolution. When Collingwood arrived here in 1774 the town was virtually under siege following the Tea Party. Charlestown and Bunker’s Hill are to the north of the city across the mouth of the Charles river. (Hulton/Getty)
8. Charlestown today: US naval base and home of USS Constitution, ‘Old Ironsides’. Behind, the giant obelisk stands on the site of the rebel redoubt on Breed’s Hill. (Topfoto)
9. The gun deck of USS Constitution, built in 1797. Technically a heavy frigate, she outgunned any British ship of the same class, humiliating the Royal Navy during the War of 1812–1815. (Author)
10. The battle of Cape St Vincent, 14 February 1797. A brilliant naval triumph against a much larger Spanish fleet – not for the last time, Collingwood played a crucial role in a victory attributed to Nelson. ‘ “The Captain” capturing the “San Nicolas” and the “San José” ’ by Nicholas Pocock, 1741–1821, oil on canvas, 1808. (© National Maritime Museum, London)
11. Nelson. ‘An enemy that commits a false step in his view is ruined, and it comes on him with an impetuosity that allows him no time to recover.’ Portrait by Lemuel Francis Abbott, 1760–1803, oil on canvas, 1797. (National Portrait Gallery, London)
12. Mary Moutray. Charming, intelligent, with striking good looks: she brought out the best in both Collingwood and Nelson, and they were dazzled by her. (By kind permission of Clive Richards)
13. Nelson by Collingwood, drawn at Windsor House in Antigua. Nelson was recovering from yellow fever and wore a wig; even so, it is not a flattering portrait. (© National Maritime Museum, London)
14. Collingwood by Nelson. Collingwood must have seemed the epitome of the English naval captain. (© National Maritime Museum, London)
15. Sarah Collingwood. This small sketch may well have been drawn by Collingwood himself; though a talented draughtsman, he never quite mastered the depiction of the human face. (The Collingwood family)
16. English Harbour, Antigua. A safe anchorage in the hurricane season, it allowed Collingwood and Nelson to conduct their anti-smuggling operations, re-victual their ships, and carry out repairs. (Author)
17. The Copper and Lumber store, English Harbour: the only surviving Georgian dockyard in the world. (Author)
18. Napoleon’s statue in Ajaccio, his birthplace in 1769: ‘as much villainy as ever disgraced human nature in the person of one man’. (Travel Library)
19. St Florent. Collingwood had a low opinion of Britain’s Corsican allies: ‘they have no idea of restraint by laws, or making an appeal to them when injured, the blood of the offender can alone appease them; they are always armed, even when they go to church. Such is our new kingdom.’ (Author)
20. After Trafalgar, Collingwood wrote in his famous dispatch: ‘The Enemy’s ships were fought with a gallantry highly honourable to their officers, but the attack on them was irresistible.’ The Royal Navy suffered seventeen hundred killed and wounded; the French and Spanish more than seven thousand. ‘The Battle of Trafalgar: End of the Action’ by Nicholas Pocock, oil on canvas, c.1808. (© National Maritime Museum, London)
21. Nelson is shot on the quarterdeck of Victory by a marksman from Captain Lucas’ Redoubtable. ‘My heart is rent with the most poignant grief,’ wrote Collingwood, ‘a grief to which even the glorious occasion on which he fell, does not bring the consolation which perhaps it ought.’ ‘The Fall of Nelson, Battle of Trafalgar’ by Denis Dighton, 1792–1827, oil on canvas, c.1825. (© National Maritime Museum, London)
22. The storm after Trafalgar. It was one of the worst storms that many commanders had experienced. At its height Collingwood ordered the enemy prizes to be destroyed; but not a single British ship was lost. Painting attributed to John Wilson Carmichael, 1800–1868. (The Collingwood family)
23. Collingwood’s telescope, its lenses crusted with sea salt. The admiral, typically, had it repaired with an oilcloth and tar bandage. Night after night he scanned the horizon with it: an ‘eagle on the watch’. (The Collingwood family)
24. Port Mahon. After the Spanish uprising of May 1808 Collingwood was able to base the Mediterranean fleet here once again. His life had more or less come full circle. ‘Port Mahon’ by Anton Schranz, 1769–1839, oil on canvas. (Bridgeman Images)
25. Dreadnought, Collingwood’s 98-gun flagship in 1804. He trained his crew to fire an astonishing three broadsides in three-and-a-half minutes. (© National Maritime Museum, London)
26. Collingwood House is now a hotel where, every Thursday during the season, its owner gives guided tours. Collingwood’s ghost is said to be heard sometimes, fingering odd notes on the piano. (Author)
27. Pigtail Steps, Port Mahon. It was from here that the fictional Jack Aubrey looked out in vain for a glimpse of Sophie, his first command. (Author)
28. Collingwood dined here at La Palazzina Cinese, near Palermo, with the King of Sicily – a reluctant and lazy king but, like Collingwood, a keen gardener. (Massimo Listri / Corbis)
29. Chirton House. Collingwood inherited the house, between Newcastle and North Shields, from his uncle Edward. He thought he might make something of the mine that came with it, but had no desire to live among the filth and noise of steam engines and coal wagons. (By kind permission of North Tynseside Libraries, Museums and Information Service)
30. Collingwood’s towering monument at Tynemouth looks appropriately out to sea. The four cannon mounted at its foot came from Royal Sovereign: the first guns to fire at Trafalgar. (Malcolm Sewell /Alamy)
The wood engravings in this book are from 1800 Woodcuts by Thomas Bewick, edited by Blanche Cirker, Dover Publications, New York 1962
About the 2015 edition
Since this book was first written there has been a revived interest in Collingwood’s career. There is now a Collingwood Society. Two portraits previously unknown to me have surfaced. Two new logs, one belonging to Wilfred Collingwood from his command of Rattler, one from Cuthbert in Diamond, have been identified. The dates of the two brothers’ lieutenants’ examinations are now known, in the spring of 1772. A number of new letters have surfaced. In retrospect, the most striking deficit in the text is the lack of thought I gave to Collingwood’s psychological state during the days and weeks after Trafalgar when, it seems to me now, he underwent a great physical and emotional crisis. Re-reading his letters after many years, I see that his darker, more complex side is not so fully explored as it might be. There is still much room for development in the analysis of this extraordinary Englishman.
Max Adams
January 2015
Acknowledgements
My grateful thanks must go firstly to the Winston Churchill Memorial Trust, who generously funded my travels in Collingwood’s wake and who have taken such a keen interest in the project. It also gives me great pleasure to thank those people who showed me such open hospitality and kindness on my travels. In Menorca, Senor Fransisco Pons Mantonari, who gave me the room next to Collingwood’s, and much of his valuable time; in Antigua, Mrs Hyacinth Hale and members of the Royal Naval Tot Club of Antigua, especially Mark and Lindsay Kiesseling; in Boston, Bill and Wendy Westman and on Cape Cod, Sally Gardner; in Sicily, the Sarullo famil
y of Palermo. Also to Stephen and Christina Stead for many kindnesses along the way.
Warwick Adams not only improved many technical aspects of the manuscript, but also provided Latin translations, constant encouragement and a finely tuned ear. Dr Christopher Cumberpatch devotedly read and improved drafts of the manuscript. Jim Gill made it possible. I am most grateful too, to Mrs Susan Collingwood-Cameron, the Admiral’s great, great, great niece, for allowing me access to her papers. Mr Clive Richards very kindly allowed me to photograph his portrait of Mary Moutray. For their continued support I would like to thank Liz and Stefan Sobell, and Samantha and Neil Callon.
