It meant that Bruce could never move too far away from his northern base which was supplied from Scotland. It also caused many Irish allies to blame the Scots for the damage that was being done to Ireland’s food supply and to withhold their support for his cause. Bruce’s Gaelic allies also failed to win Papal recognition for the newly crowned Ard-Rí, which further eroded support for the invasion.
The war dragged on until 1318 when the English King finally put together the men and resources to roll back the Scottish advance. Sir Roger Mortimer landed with a huge army at Youghal and succeeded in pinning the Scots back into Ulster where they awaited the arrival of promised reinforcements from King Robert later in the year.
The next battle would decide the fate of the invasion and of Ireland for centuries. Against all the advice of all his own commanders as well his remaining Irish allies, Bruce insisted on taking to the field at Faughart near Dundalk on October 14, 1318, days before his brother’s army, which had by then arrived in Ireland, could help him. Due to the rivalry that existed between the brothers, Edward wanted to win this last deciding battle without Robert’s help.
Seriously outnumbered, the Scots were defeated. Edward Bruce and many leading Scottish nobles were killed at the battle of Faughart. This battle was the end of Scotland’s interest in Irish affairs and the dream of a strong alliance of Celtic nations that could challenge England’s hegemony.
Sir Roger Mortimer, who is rightly credited with being the main architect of the defeat of the Bruces’ invasion of Ireland, subsequently went on to play a significant part in England’s history. (See The Greatest Traitor, by Ian Mortimer.)
The Great “What-Ifs?”
What if Edward had waited for his brother at Faughart? What if he had won and succeeded in establishing a strong Irish Royal dynasty allied to Scotland? How different would subsequent Irish, Scottish, and English history have been?
Gaelic Ireland
The Bruce invasion of Ireland provides the historical backdrop to my novel Morgallion, which takes its title from the marchland barony of the same name. It was here that the remains of an ancient lake or “crannóg” settlement was uncovered 20 years ago beside Moynagh Lough in Co Meath. This site was the subject of an extensive archaeological excavation led by John Bradley from the National University of Ireland Maynooth who traced its origins to Neolithic times and its continued development right into the Middle Ages. Moynagh’s crannóg Gaelic community was therefore on the frontier of Norman-English and Gaelic cultures after the Norman invasion and inevitably had to endure all the inherent dangers and traumas that living in such a precarious location entailed.
It is also on record that Edward Bruce’s invading army occupied the nearby caput town of Nobber for several weeks on his way to his victory over Sir Roger Mortimer at the battle of Kells in November 1315. In common with every other district in the front-line of the invading army’s advance, its people suffered dreadfully from famine, disease, and the ravages of war.
These are some of the “pegs” of historical fact on which the story of Morgallion hangs. While it is fiction, it portrays how the lives of ordinary people might have been impacted by events that washed over and around them. The book is an attempt to put some “flesh on the bones” of what scant historic records tell us. The research and writing of the book began twenty years ago and was finally brought to completion in April 2012.
Two Legends, Two Outlaws: Robin Hood and William Bradshaigh
by Elizabeth Ashworth
Probably the best known of all the medieval outlaws is the English folk hero, Robin Hood. The stories of his exploits have been told many times over the centuries from A Lyttell Geste of Robin Hood which was printed in the early 1500s to the more recent BBC television series and the film starring Russell Crowe.
One popular version of the Robin Hood legend begins in the year 1193 and names Robin as the Earl of Huntingdon, the trusted friend of Richard the Lionheart. Whilst King Richard was away fighting in Palestine, Prince John outlawed Robin and seized his lands, forcing him to live in Sherwood Forest with his band of “merry men” and possibly “Maid Marion”. Though ruthlessly pursued by the Sheriff of Nottingham, Robin spent much of his time robbing from the rich to give to the poor and became the hero of the Saxon peasants against their Norman overlords. Or, so the story goes.
The Geste records the story of an outlaw who lived in the forest at Barnsdale and who had many adventures. He gave money to an impoverished knight who was in debt to the monks of St. Mary’s Abbey in York, and later in the story Robin takes back twice as much from a monk who is travelling with some of the abbey’s wealth. He later enters the service of the king, but pines for the Greenwood and returns without permission to the forest.
The story ends by telling how Robin dies at Kirklees Priory. He goes there in old age, possibly because he is ill, and the prioress, who may be his cousin, bleeds him. Bleeding was a well-known medical procedure at that time, but because Robin has criticised the corruption within the church, this prioress, in cahoots with her lover Red Roger of Doncaster, allows him to bleed to death. But before he dies, he manages to summon Little John by blowing his hunting horn, and then he shoots an arrow from the window of the gatehouse and asks to be buried where it lands.
Although there is no compelling evidence that a real Robin Hood ever existed, one of the most popular searches on my website is for “Robin Hood’s Grave” and, a short walk from what remains of the priory gatehouse of Kirklees, there is a grave hidden amongst the yew trees. It is inscribed:
Here underneath dis laitl stean
Laz Robert Earl of Huntingtun
Ne’er arcir ver as hie sa geud
An pipl kauld im Robin Heud
Sick utlawz as him as iz men
Vil England nivr si agen
Obit. 24. Kal Dekembris, 1247.
The gravestone was placed here in 1850 by Sir George Armytage II who was then the landowner and is based on an earlier inscription from 1631. The grave was originally discovered by John Leland, Henry VIII’s librarian and chief antiquarian, who visited Kirklees in 1542 during the Dissolution of the Monasteries. He saw the grave and recorded that: “Resting under this monument lies buried Robin Hood that nobleman who was beyond the law.”
However, the earliest stories about Robin Hood are not set in the reign of Richard the Lionheart at all, but mention “Edward, our comely king” which may point to these events taking place in the reign of Edward II when there was also unrest across England. A succession of very wet summers from 1315 to 1317 led to crops rotting in the fields. There was widespread famine as food shortages and high prices led to starvation. There were accusations of bad government, and in Lancashire some of the local knights decided to take the law into their own hands.
Sir Adam Banastre and Sir William Bradshaigh led a local rebellion against their overlord, Thomas, Earl of Lancaster. In preparation for what is now called the Banastre Rebellion, these leaders and their confederates rode around Lancashire seeking supplies. This resulted in a man named Sir Henry de Bury being killed and his horse and other goods stolen.
Sir William was accused of sheltering the perpetrators of these crimes and was summoned to court. He didn’t attend because by this time the rebels had faced a battle at Preston, on the banks of the River Ribble, against the deputy sheriff of Lancashire, Sir Edmund Neville, where they were defeated and had to flee for their lives.
Accused of treason and also wanted in relation to the murder inquiry, Sir William was declared an outlaw. His lands at Haigh, which were his wife Mabel’s inheritance, were confiscated by the king, and he was forced to go into hiding, probably in the forest around Charnock. If you ever travel on the M6 motorway you will pass a service station named Charnock Richard which is near to this area.
However, a document dated at Westminster on 21 May 1318 records that William received a par
don:
Pardon to William de Bradeshagh, knight, of his outlawry in the county of Lancaster, for non-appearance before Robert de Lathom and his fellows, justices, assigned to enquire touching the death of Henry de Bury, knight, killed by Stephen Scallard and John de Walton, as is alleged, when charged with assenting thereto.
(Cal. Pat. 1317-21, p.145)
Whether he was still outlawed for his part in the rebellion is unclear, but he did not return home, and in 1319, his wife Mabel declared that he was dead. The story of Lady Mabel and Sir William has been handed down over the years and is known as the legend of Mab’s Cross, which records that William was fighting in Palestine rather than being an outlaw.
It also tells that Lady Mabel remarried, although there is no documentary evidence for this, and that when her husband eventually returned home she performed a penance for her adultery by walking barefoot from her home at Haigh Hall to a wayside cross in Wigan. The remains of the cross can still be seen outside Mab’s Cross Primary School in the town.
And, like Robin Hood, Sir William also has a marked grave, although it is more likely that this one is genuine and he is really buried in Wigan Parish Church where his effigy can be seen.
A Brief but Very Satisfactory Wooing: Edward III and Philippa of Hainault
by Anne O’Brien
The only true representation we have of the appearance of Philippa of Hainault is taken from her tomb in Westminster Abbey next to that of Edward III.
Some five years before her death she gave orders for it to be carved specifically to show her as she was in advancing age, not as she had been in her youth. She was about 55 years old at this time. It shows her as stout and maternal with broad features. She had no claim to beauty but without doubt Edward loved her.
In July 1326, when the future Edward III was fourteen years old, he and his mother Queen Isabella visited Valenciennes in the state of Hainault on a mission—to find the youthful Edward a bride. They had been sent a description of one of the Hainault daughters, of which there were four: Margaret, Philippa, Jeanne, and Isabella.
The description we have of the prospective bride was always thought to have been of Philippa, written by Bishop Stapledon who had visited Hainault twice and reported back. The young girl was described in 1319 as having dark hair, deep-set brown eyes, a large forehead, and a large nose, but not snubbed. Her body and limbs were well formed but some of her teeth were discoloured. It does not sound to be the stuff of high romance, but the proposed bride was considered to be an attractive proposition for the young prince.
It has to be said that Isabella, in conflict with her husband Edward II, had her eye on a troop of Hainaulter mercenaries, which might have swayed her in her choice of a Hainault bride for her son. A contemporary writer further suggested that Philippa had been chosen because of the quality of her hips for childbearing—not the first or the last time such an attribute was to play a part when the provision of an heir was of paramount importance.
Recent research suggests that the description was not in fact Philippa, but more likely her eldest sister Margaret, chiefly because of the correlation of birth dates with Stapledon’s visit. By the time that Edward visited Hainault, however, Margaret was not available for marriage, being already married to Ludwig of Bavaria.
The decision that Edward and Philippa would marry was made by Isabella and Count William of Hainault, Philippa’s father; thus, the young people had no say in the matter. Philippa was about twelve years old and the wedding, it was agreed, would happen within the next two years. Edward’s visit lasted for only eight days, at the end of which, when Edward left, Philippa is said to have wept bitterly.
Edward met Philippa again in January 1328 at the gates of York, and they were married the next day in York Minster. Thus began a marriage that lasted for forty years until Philippa’s death in 1369.
In character, they matched each other perfectly. They enjoyed books—Philippa read romances while Edward enjoyed tales of the heroic feats of King Arthur. They enjoyed hunting, celebrations, and extravagant festivities. They also enjoyed their family life—Philippa producing twelve children, Edward being an indulgent and generous father. Edward was the flamboyant one; Philippa had a strong streak of common sense and loyalty to Edward, both of which he needed to put his reign on a firm footing.
So what happened in those eight days in Valenciennes in July 1326 between Edward and Philippa that caused Philippa to weep when her young suitor left? We have no idea. But whatever attraction there was between the two young people, it laid the foundation for one of the most important and successful marriages—and one of the most definitive reigns—in English history.
A (Possible) Page from the London Gazette: September 1331
by Anne O’Brien
Cheapside Drama
Queen in near-death disaster…
Today at Cheapside, in the very centre of our fair city of London, we expected to celebrate the birth, one year ago, of Edward of Woodstock, the heir to our illustrious King Edward III. Instead we witnessed a drama that could have had fatal results.
Noble Edward
It began with the magnificence of all our King’s celebrations. As we know, Edward enjoys every opportunity to put the royal family on display with extravagant feasts and dressing up. Who can forget his astonishing caperings as a gigantic golden bird to mark the feast of Twelfth Night? He is a master of festivities, warming our hearts with his energy. We wish him long life and every success in his campaigns to subdue the villainous French and bring our lands across the Channel back under our rightful dominion.
England’s Glory
The tournament to celebrate the glory of England and England’s King is planned to thrill us over four days. This morning King Edward and his knights, who were intending to participate in the lists and the melee, were arrayed as fierce Tartars from the wild steppes of Muscovy. Clad in sumptuous robes of velvet and damask, lined with rich fur, our brave lads led in procession the most noble and the most beautiful women of the realm, all tricked out in red velvet tunics and white hoods—the King’s own colours. King Edward led his fair sister Eleanor in the procession.
Our Radiant Queen...
It was planned for our Queen and her damsels, in regal splendour, to watch the display of knightly valour from a wooden gallery constructed for the occasion, all hung about with red and white silk, swagged in banners and pennons. The crowds cheered her and our noble King, as he saluted her in true chivalric manner, and then rode towards the lists. Queen Philippa looked radiant and smiled at her loyal subjects, before seating herself on golden cushions.
Disaster!
Hardly had Chester Herald blown the blast to summon all competitors than a harsh grinding of wood could be heard by all present. The hangings on the Queen’s gallery shivered, the banners dipped and swayed. Before our horrified eyes, without more warning, the whole construction collapsed in a cloud of dust and debris. The cries of the Queen’s damsels made our blood run cold. Knights and servants ran from all sides to rescue our dear Queen. King Edward was the first to be there at Philippa’s side, lifting the wood and canvas from her with his own hands.
The Nation’s Relief
We are delighted to be able to report that Queen Philippa is unharmed, although some of her ladies were seriously injured. The whole country should give thanks in special Masses for her happy restoration to health. King Edward was noticeably overcome at the prospect of his dear wife’s possible injury or even death. An eye-witness reported that he kissed and hugged her when she was capable of standing on her own feet. It was a tender moment and moved our hearts.
Edward’s Fury
Our King was justifiably furious at the shoddy workmanship that caused the gallery to collapse, and demanded to know the workmen involved. His anger was terrible to see. Craftsmanship is not what it used to be! Even the Queen feared
for the workmen’s lives, for we know that our King has a temper when he is roused. If he is challenged, he will face force with force, which we have found to be a good thing in our dealings with the despicable French.
Our Queen’s Bravery
Despite her obvious shock, brave Philippa fell to her knees before her irate husband and begged his mercy for the hapless carpenters since she was not harmed. An eye-witness said she spoke soothing words in his ear. Her tears of compassion melted his anger. Our King lifted her up and promised to have mercy. The crowd cheered at his magnanimity and the Queen’s care for her subjects and for justice. The craftsmen grovelled in the dust in relief, as they should.
The Show goes on!
Reassured of his wife’s escape, in true English character, Edward saw to her comfort and then ordered the tournament to proceed as normal. He might be persuaded to spare the carpenters—but a tournament he must have! The French should take note of our King’s determination and mental strength when under pressure. The nation rejoices at Queen Philippa’s restoration to good health and King Edward’s victory over all comers in the tournament. We give thanks to God.
E
This may be a fictitious newspaper account, but the events at the Cheapside tournament in 1331 are all true. What an astonishing reign was Edward III’s, for colour and for drama.
The Elusive History of the Order of the Garter
by Rosanne E. Lortz
“Honi soit qui mal y pense—Shamed be the one who thinks evil of it.” So reads the motto of the famous Order of the Garter, a society of knights established by Edward III, the English king who began the Hundred Years’ War with France.
But what does the motto refer to and why did Edward choose it? That question is just one of the many surrounding the foundation of the Garter Order.
Castles, Customs, and Kings: True Tales by English Historical Fiction Authors Page 13
