Saint Lioba: Trusted Friend of a Martyr

by Kim Rendfeld

Before he became a martyr in Frisia in 754, Saint Boniface had put his affairs at Fulda in order. Part of that was summoning his younger kinswoman Lioba, whom he had installed as abbess at Bischofsheim. He gave Lioba his cowl and instructed the monks of Fulda that they were to treat her with reverence and, when her time came, to place her remains in the same tomb as his.

Photo by Kandschwar, statue of Lioba in Schornsheim

Neither Boniface nor Lioba were young. Boniface likely was in his 70s. Lioba might have been in her mid-40s. Her hagiography gives hints of her struggles at the time, referring to “her weakness.” Boniface also “exhorted her not to abandon the country of her adoption and not to grow weary of the life she had undertaken, but rather to extend the scope of the good work she had begun.”

Those instructions must have worked. Lioba spent the rest of her days in Francia, visiting the royal court, convents, and the monastery at Fulda, where no other woman was allowed to enter.

Given how close Lioba and Boniface were in life, it might not be a surprise that his parting words to her would have such an effect. In a letter to him, she reminds her kinsman that her father died eight years before and her mother was grievously ill. "I am the only daughter of my parents, and unworthy though I be, I wish that I might regard you as a brother; for there is no other man in my kinship in whom I have such confidence as in you."

Most of what we know about the British-born Lioba comes from her hagiography written by the monk Rudolf of Fulda almost 60 years after her death. Like other hagiographies, Lioba’s story includes dreams and miracles, with parallels to biblical characters and events, the accuracy of which I will leave to the reader to decide.

“In appearance she was angelic,” Rudolf wrote, “in word pleasant, dear in mind, great in prudence, Catholic in faith, most patient in hope, universal in her charity. … No one ever heard a bad word from her lips; the sun never went down upon her anger. … So great was her zeal for reading that she discontinued it only for prayer or for the refreshment of her body with food or sleep: the Scriptures were never out of her hands.”

Childhood in the Church

Like Boniface, Lioba (also spelled Leoba) was born in the Saxon kingdom of Wessex. Her parents, Dynne and Aebbe, had given up on having a child, but then Aebbe dreamed that she bore a church bell in her bosom, which rang out merrily when withdrawn. A nurse told Aebbe that she was going to have a daughter and she must dedicate the child to the Church the way Anna offered Samuel to the temple.

Aebbe handed her daughter over to the care of Mother Tetta, abbess of Wimbourne and future saint who believed in the power of mercy and prayer. Wimbourne was a double monastery where men and women did not mix. Women who entered stayed for life unless there was a greater cause.

Growing up, Lioba proved to be serious and pious. A dream she had of an endless purple thread from her mouth, she was told, was a sign that her wise counsel would be felt in other lands.

That dream was fulfilled when Boniface sent for Lioba, who had a reputation for being learned. Boniface was founding abbeys where the practice of Christianity had slipped, and he needed people he could trust to watch over them. Tetta was not happy to let Lioba go but felt like the need was too great for her to refuse.

Life in Francia

Lioba arrived in Bischofsheim (now called Tauberbischofsheim) around 748. She trained other nuns on the principles of monastic life and many of her disciples became abbesses themselves.

Photo by Andreas Praefcke, Lioba (right)
with Saints Walburga and Michael

But Lioba and her sisters faced their own difficulties. In a story that could have come from today’s tragic headlines, a woman discovered a murdered newborn in the river and jumped to the conclusion that one of the nuns - strangers to the area - had borne and killed the child to cover up her sin. Lioba and the nuns were horrified. After a series of prayers and processions, a vision like flames appeared around the guilty party - a crippled girl the nuns had been caring for. (Her hagiography has other miracles of her healing a very sick nun, putting out a fire, and quieting a storm.)

Lioba lived for 25 years after Boniface’s martyrdom. She was often invited to the Frankish court and well received and respected for her wisdom. She was an advisor to Pepin and his sons, Charles and Carloman (who didn‘t get along). After Carloman died, she still was in Charles’s favor and became close to Hildegard. Perhaps, she was even like a second mother to the young queen, who might have been 13 when she married in 772.

But she “detested the life at court like poison,” Rudolf wrote. And so she would return to her work, mainly mentoring nuns.

At some point, her age and failing health caught up with her. Perhaps when she was in her 60s, she must have realized she had little time left. After settling her affairs at the convents under her care, she retired to Scoranesheim. But Queen Hildegard made one final request to see her.

For the sake of her friendship with the queen, Lioba visited her but soon left. Her farewell is an intimate gesture. She kissed Hildegard on the mouth, forehead, and eyes, and called her “most precious half of my soul.”

Lioba died a few days after returning home. The monks remembered Boniface’s request but they were reluctant to break into his tomb. So she was buried nearby and moved to a different location in the church several years later. (After her hagiography was written, she was moved a few more times after that, finally resting in Petersburg Abbey in Fulda.)

Miracles continued to be attributed to Lioba after her death. One involved a man cured of his twitching. When asked what happened, he said he had a vision of an old man in a bishop’s stole accompanied by a young woman in a nun’s habit who took him by the hand, lifted him up, and presented him to the bishop to be blessed.

Sources

The Letters of Saint Boniface, p. 37-38

Medieval Sourcebook: Rudolph of Fulda: Life of Leoba

"Saint Lioba of Bischofsheim" Saints.SQPN.com. 2 April 2013. Web. 8 June 2013.

All images from Wikimedia Commons, permission granted under the terms of GNU Free Documentation License.

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Kim Rendfeld is the author of two books set in Carolingian Francia: The Cross and the Dragon, published by Fireship Press, and the yet-to-be published The Ashes of Heaven’s Pillar. For more about Kim and her fiction, visit kimrendfeld.com or her blog, Outtakes. You can also connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

A Look at Thomas Wyatt ~ Courtier, Diplomat, Poet, Lover

by Judith Arnopp

Thomas Wyatt by Holbein the younger

Thomas Wyatt’s portrait by Holbein shows a discontented fellow. His eyes are troubled, mentally tortured even, his mouth down-turned, his cheeks sagging, as if he is tired of life and living.

But maybe we are swayed by the stories we’ve all heard of his unhappy marriage, his unrequited love for Anne Boleyn, his lovelorn poetry, his enforced exile, false imprisonment. But what do we really know?

Was Tom Wyatt really the tortured poet and lover that we like to think he was? There are plenty of known facts about him, placing him in a certain place at a certain date, clues we can pick up and learn from. There is the aforementioned portrait by Holbein, various letters and papers, a biography of Anne Boleyn, written by his grandson, George Wyatt…and, closest to his heart of all, there is his poetry.

Born in 1503, Thomas Wyatt was destined for life in the royal court, his father remained in high favour since his support of Henry VII at Bosworth, and Wyatt’s first recorded presence is in the entourage of the christening of Princess Mary. (A future queen, incidentally, who would one day be responsible for the beheading of Wyatt’s son after the Lady Jane Grey affair in 1554.)

In a dynastic power match Wyatt was married to Elizabeth Brooke in 1520, a union that, despite the birth of Thomas Wyatt the younger, proved both unhappy and unsuccessful. In later years Wyatt, after accusing her of adultery, parted company with his wife to live openly with his mistress, Elizabeth Darrell.

One of Henry VIII’s esquires of the body, he became one of the King’s intimates, entering into

Woodcut by Holbein the younger

the courtly pastimes--jousting, hunting and dancing. Like Henry, Wyatt wrote verses, an important component of the courtly love games that were so popular among the royal household. These poems were often left where a girl could find them, or offered as tokens; sometimes the poems were altered or embellished by another hand before being passed on. They were not published in his lifetime and in all probability never meant for close interpretation. Due to Wyatt’s central role in the story of Anne Boleyn however, history has decided otherwise.

It must have been during this carefree period of Henry VIII’s reign that Wyatt’s romantic interest in Anne Boleyn was first piqued. As part of Queen Katherine’s household Anne would have been fair game for Wyatt’s attention but, when it became clear that Henry had set his sights on the same target, Wyatt either withdrew or was sent by the king on a mission that took him away from court.  

Most historians seem to agree that some sort of an attachment existed between Thomas and Anne but we can only guess at the extent of it. Some read a physical involvement into the poems but it seems to me to have been one sided.  Although there seems little doubt in the depth of Wyatt’s involvement, at the time he first began to make reference to Anne, she was engaged in a liason with Henry Percy, an affair that was quickly nipped in the bud by Cardinal Wolsey. 

I am not skilled enough to judge the quality of Wyatt’s poetry but his particular choice of words and nuances of meaning can leave no doubt as to his state of mind. This is love if ever I saw it. A riddle, punning on the name ‘Anna’, points to the possible identity of his secret lady.

What word is that that changeth not,

Though it be turned and made in twain?

It is mine answer, God it wot,

And eke the causer of my pain.

It love rewardeth with disdain:

Yet is it loved. What would ye more?

It is my health eke and my sore.

It could, of course, be another Anna, it was a common enough name. It is not until you read all the poems as one unit that the argument for the object of his passion being Anne Boleyn becomes stronger. 

The following poem is believed to have been written later, and the lines were altered at some point to make them less dangerous.  The line "Her that did set a country in a roar" was changed to read, "Brunet, that set my wealth in such a roar".  Obviously the initial reference to Anne was far too explicit, after all, what other ‘brunet’ of his acquaintance had ‘set the country in a roar?’

     If waker care, if sudden pale colour,

    If many sighs, with little speech to plain,

    Now Joy, now woe, if they my cheer disdain,

    For hope of small, if much to fear therefore;

    To haste to slack my pace less or more,

    Be sign of love, then do I love again.

    If thou ask whom; sure, since I did refrain

    Her that did set our country in a roar,

    Th'unfeigned cheer of Phyllis hath the place

    That Brunet had; she hath and ever shall.

    She from myself now hath me in her grace:

    She hath in hand my wit, my will, my all.

    My heart alone well worthy she doth stay,

    Without whose help, scant do I live a day.

Taken individually, Wyatt’s poetry could refer to anyone, it is not until you come to the most

  by Hans Eworth, after Hans Holbein the Younger

famous verse of all that arguments against it being Anne  begin to collapse. It could, I suppose, have been poetic licence or wishful thinking but surely, the words are too personal for that.  In my opinion these lines can only have been written by a man who has lived them and it is this poem that endorses all the others. There is no need, I think, to explain the meaning, Wyatt speaks as clearly now as he did then but he also illustrates, quite clearly, that the attachment was one-sided and, at least by the time that this verse was written, Anne belonged to Henry

Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,

But as for me, alas, I may no more,

The vain travail hath wearied me so sore.

I am of them that farthest cometh behind;

Yet may I by no means my wearied mind

Draw from the Deer: but as she fleeth afore,

Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,

Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.

Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,

As well as I may spend his time in vain:

And, graven with diamonds, in letters plain

There is written her fair neck round about:

Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,

And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.

The Hever Portrait

Another poem, possibly written after Noli Me Tangere shows Wyatt trying to reconcile himself to the fact that he has lost, trying to convince himself (and others perhaps) that his affection had been nothing but folly. But, all these years later, are we convinced? Or do the words smack of bravado? How many of us have shrugged our shoulders and said, ‘I never loved him anyway’?

Some time I fled the fire that me brent

By sea, by land, by water and by wind;

And now I follow the coals that be quent,

From Dover to Calais against my mind.

Lo how desire is both sprung and spent!

And he may see that whilom was so blind,

And all his labour now he laugh to scorn,

Meshed in the briars that erst was all to-torn.

Wyatt continued to serve the king. He was made High Marshal of Calais and Commissioner of the Peace of Essex.  In 1532 he accompanied the King and Anne, who was by then the King's mistress, on their visit to Calais and when the royal divorce was finally granted Anne Boleyn married the King in January 1533. Wyatt served in her coronation in June and in 1535 he was knighted but a year later, when Anne’s fortune turned, Wyatt’s former attachment for the queen almost dragged him down with her.

It is said that he witnessed Anne's execution, from the window of his prison in the Bell Tower, writing a lengthy elegy to the men who died alongside her, and making no secret of his broken heart. He also remembered her in another verse, although he still does not dare to mention her name.

These bloody days have broken my heart.  
My lust, my youth did them depart,

And blind desire of estate.

Who hastes to climb seeks to revert.

Of truth, circa Regna tonat. (around the throne it thunders)

The bell tower showed me such sight

That in my head sticks day and night.

There did I learn out of a grate,

For all favour, glory, or might,

That yet circa Regna tonat.

Some say it was thanks to Cromwell that Thomas Wyatt escaped execution, but he may well have suffered the more for surviving. A diplomat as well as a politician, his subsequent career took him back to Europe where he became involved in intrigue and espionage, leading to his capture and ransom by Spain. His involvement in the attempted assassination of Reginald Pole led (somewhat ironically) to an accusation of treasonable contact with the king’s enemies and a second spell in the Tower. 

As a diplomat (some say spy) Wyatt was in constant danger, and wherever he travelled, he will have taken his memories with him. He doesn’t seem to have achieved happiness and some biographers have accused him of revelling in poetic misery. That may be a little harsh. It is easy to sit in our secure, warm environment and judge those who lived in tougher times. I think we can say Thomas Wyatt was a man who, although unfortunate in love, understood love. I think we can say he suffered for his love, and I think we can say he was a victim of the times he lived in – yet another victim of Henry VIII. He died of a fever in 1542, just six years after Anne and in a letter written to his son in 1537 he described his life as "a thousand dangers and hazards, enmities, hatreds, prisonments, despites and indignations".

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Judith Arnopp is a historical novelist. She is currently working on a novel of Anne Boleyn. Her other books include:

The Winchester Goose: at the court of Henry VIII

Dear Henry: Confessions of the Queens 

The Forest Dwellers

The Song of Heledd

Peaceweaver

More information about Judith and her books are on her webpage

Illustrations courtesy of wikimedia commons

Conversations with Angels: The Strange Life of Edward Kelley

By Nancy Bilyeau

The castle of Hrad Krivoklat, built forty kilometers west of Prague in the 12th century, possessed a Gothic chapel known for its statues of the twelve apostles, gazing at worshippers from high above. Also of note was a statue of Jesus at the altar, flanked by angels with golden wings.

Hrad Krivoklat: 

In 1591, a lone Englishman of middle age and cropped ears, Edward Kelley, was confined in this castle, which began functioning as a prison in the 16th century. Kelley, held in a cell at the command of Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II, had decisions to make. He was no doubt forbidden to avail himself of the castle chapel while making his decisions. But if he had, those winged angels might have carried special significance to him. Perhaps they would have comforted him.

Or perhaps not.

Edward Kelly, from a 19th c drawing

After months of imprisonment, Kelly was due to be released  but for a single purpose. The emperor expected much of the man who came to Prague with the renowned John Dee in 1586. Rudolf had favored him, enriched him, spoiled him. The English commoner even held an imperial title: He was Sir Edward Kelley of Imamyi, "Baron of Bohemia," and he lived in high style in Prague.

Why did this bounty rain down on Kelly? Because Rudolf, an emotionally erratic Hapsburg obsessed with art, philosophy and magic, was convinced that Kelley possessed a secret of alchemy. There had been tantalizing glimpses of his power. However, Kelly had not come through as yet with what the emperor sought. He'd been arrested for dueling. But it was believed the true reason for his imprisonment was to force him to produce what Prague wanted to see.

While deciding what to do, Kelley reflected. This is only speculation--but might not these be the turning points that flitted through his mind:

March 1582: John Dee, scholar, astrologer, mathematician, physician, and philosopher, was in residence at his house, Mortlake, when a knock at the door produced a young man who called himself Edward Talbot, in the company of a Dee friend, Mr. Clerkson. Talbot was a name used by Edward Kelley.

John Dee

They had arrived at a prestigious address. Dee had a unique relationship with Queen Elizabeth. He was her personal astrologer--Dee selected her date of coronation--and adviser, but their meetings were discreet and their communications guarded. Courtiers at the pinnacle of her court--Robert Dudley and Christopher Hatton--also believed in Dee. But endorsement could not be open because Dee's methods skirted heresy. During the reign of Elizabeth's half-sister, Mary I, he was arrested under suspicion of casting the horoscopes of Queen Mary and Princess Elizabeth with an eye to predicting the succession. This was treason. He managed to exonerate himself, and found favor with Elizabeth but she did not financially reward him to the extent that he wished. Money worries dogged Dee for his entire life.

As for "Talbot," he was born in St. Swithin's, Worcester on August 1, 1555, according to a discovered astrological chart. Kelley may or may not have attended Oxford. He always wore his hair long or donned a monk's cowl or cap with hanging flaps to conceal the fact that his ears were missing. It was said he had been pilloried for "coining" (forging or adulterating coins) and lost his ears as punishment.

Mr. Clerkson brought Kelley to Dee because he had heard that the Queen's conjurer was in need of a new "skryer," or crystal gazer.  Such men were not uncommon. "Almost every parish, and apparently several aristocratic households, boasted a 'cunning man,' who for the price of a beer or a bed would summon spirits or tell fortunes," says The Queen's Conjurer: the Science and Magic of Dr. John Dee, Adviser to Elizabeth I.

Elizabeth I, Dee's patron

Dee had lofty motives for wanting to communicate with spirits of the other world: to elevate and unite mankind in an era of religious wars, hunger and disease. He sought to understand the universe. On his next visit to Mortlake, Kelley gave him what sounds like a winning audition. After looking into one of Dee's crystals for a quarter of an hour, Kelley said he'd made contact with an angel named Uriel, "the angel of light." Uriel had a number of messages for Dee.

Kelley was hired.

1583: A boat sailed from England, carrying Dee, Kelley and their respective families. Destination: Poland. Dee had a much younger wife named Jane and small children; Kelley had recently married a widow with children.  The trip was paid for by Albert Laski, a Polish count who came to England as an envoy to Elizabeth and was introduced to Dee and Kelley by Robert Dudley, earl of Leicester. Laski was a known dabbler in the occult, and soon spent much of his time at Mortlake.

Dee and Kelley had been focusing a tremendous amount of time on their "conferences" with angels. Kelley acted as medium, and Dee pondered the communications, which had to be decoded. The language that the various angels--Uriel was joined by Michael as well as other celestials--used was "Enochian." These were the pure words God spoke to Adam, before the Fall.  Dee sought to decode the entire language and capture the wisdom of the angels in a book.

In recent weeks, the angels, through Kelley as medium, had begun to urge Dee to leave England, at the same time that Laski was making his offer. Dee was also worried that Elizabeth's support of his work was wavering. Rumors abounded that Dee and Kelley were practicing necromancy,  which was communication with the dead. Dee did not want to clarify to anyone that it was actually angels they spoke to. Not yet. So it was time to leave England.

Dee & Kelley, raising the dead?

March 1587: Dee and Kelley, full of dread, were summoned to appear before the papal nuncio Germanico Malaspina, bishop of San Severo, in Prague, the cosmopolitan city of Bohemia.

The last four years had been difficult ones. Laski ran out of money almost the instant they arrived in Poland, and the two men and their families wandered through Central Europe, conducting their "actions" with the angels as they sought aristocratic sponsors.

They finally were given permission to present themselves in Prague, where Emperor Rudolf held court. Although Rudolf was intensely interested in magic, his court was dominated by papal and counter-Reformation forces. It was a treacherous climate. Dee had managed to obtain an audience with the reclusive Rudolf but that didn't prevent him from falling under suspicion of necromancy again. It also didn't help that Rudolf's uncle, King Philip II, was planning to declare war on Elizabeth I and all English Protestants were anathema.

Dee acquitted himself well under questioning by Bishop Malaspina, professing himself a pious man who would never cause religious discord in Prague or traffic in the black arts. Then it was Kelley's turn to speak. What he chose to say was astounding:

"It seems to me that, if one looks for counsel or remedy that might bring about a reformation in the whole church, the following will be good and obvious. While there are some shepards and ministers of the Christian flock who, in their faith and in their works, excel all others, there are also those who seem devoid of the true faith and idle in their good works. Their life is so odious to the people and sets so pernicious an example that by their own bad life they cause more destruction in the Church of God than  they could ever repair by their most elaborate, most long and most frequent discourses. And for that reason their words do not carry the necessary conviction and are wanting in profitable authority."

The papal representative remained calm. But he said later, privately, that he had wanted to "throw Kelley from a window"--a common way to resolve conflict in Prague. For a time Kelley and Dee were able to evade arrest or formal censure. But eventually the emperor turned on them. The order came to leave Prague within six days.

Vilem Rozmberk

May 1587: Dee and Kelley found a new sponsor: the wealthy Bohemian noble Vilem Rozmberk. He had a passion for alchemy and had set up several laboratories for experiments--Dee and Kelley now had one of their own. Although Dee was less than enthusiastic, Kelley threw himself into this work. Alchemy was the quest to transform base metals into noble ones--silver and gold--through the  Philosopher's Stone, a legendary elixir.

Kelley had brought with him from England a mysterious red powder he said he'd discovered buried in the ground. As a demonstration before dignitaries visiting the laboratory, Kelley dropped a speck of it into mercury held in a crucible. To all who witnessed it, shimmering gold appeared. Soon the news spread across Prague, Europe and even back to England: Kelley had discovered the Philosopher's Stone and could produce gold.

Now the balance of power between Dee and Kelley shifted. Dee wanted Kelley to communicate with the angels and obtain the wisdom of the universe. But his skryer wanted to focus on the alchemy experiments that were earning him fame. This was the time, when the angels communicated something new and shocking: Dee and Kelley must share wives.

With great reluctance, Dee's young wife slept with Kelley. Nine months later, Theodorus Dee was born. In 1589, the Dees returned to England. Kelley would never see them again.

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Emperor Rudolf II

It was not long after Dee's departure that Kelley reached his height of riches and renown. The Emperor's interest in alchemy went deeper than filling the imperial treasury. Rudolf was as unusual a ruler as Elizabeth I. He never married, recoiled from religious mania, and maintained a cautious stance among war-crazed relatives. "Wise hesitation" is what his supporters called it. His enemies found him inert and unfit to rule a Catholic empire.

One aspect of Rudolf's personality was fear of death. Alchemy's ultimate promise was immortality. He threw money, property and titles at Kelley, but there was a catch. The Englishman must deliver. He must turn base metal into gold. Despite his tantalizing experiments, Kelley could not prove his abilities to the emperor's satisfaction.

And so Kelley was imprisoned in Hrad Krivoklat. After his release, he was again given a chance to perform successful alchemic experiments. He failed. Kelley tried to flee Prague, but was captured and jailed in another imperial castle.

It is said that Edward Kelley died in 1598 after he crawled out of a Bohemian prison window and fell to the ground. Other reports say he survived to see 1600, but maintained a low profile.

He is considered a charlatan today, someone who was able to convince wise and astute people of mystical abilities ... until his tricks ran out.

But that is incorrect. Edward Kelley did perform an act of alchemy. It was on himself.


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This post is part of a continuing blog series on necromancy & prophecy in history:

From Homer to The Hobbit, the History of the Necromancer

The Duchess and the Necromancer

Prophecy: The Curse of the Tudors

U.S.: On sale $2.99 on amazon and Kindle

U.K. publisher: Orion

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Nancy Bilyeau is the author of The Crown and The Chalice, historical thrillers set in 16th century England. The protagonist is Joanna Stafford, a young novice of the Dominican Order. The next book in the trilogy will be The Covenant. To learn more, go to www.nancybilyeau.com

The Irish Fitzgeralds (The Geraldines)

by Arthur Russell

Few Irish families match the Fitzgeralds' contribution to the history of Ireland and the nation’s development from being a loose collection of warring and competing kingdoms and clans in Medieval Ireland, through subsequent conquest and occupation, until Ireland’s eventual emergence as a modern Republic (well, for three quarters of the island) in the aftermath of the War of Independence which was ended by a hard-won Treaty with the United Kingdom in December 1921.

The poem of the Irish Patriot, Thomas Davis, written during some of Ireland’s darkest days in the 1840’s tracks the story of the fabled “Geraldines” and their exploits since the beginning of the last millennium.

The Geraldines! the Geraldines!--'tis full a thousand years

Since, 'mid the Tuscan vineyards, bright flashed their battle-spears
When Capet seized the crown of France, their iron shields were known,
And their sabre-dint struck terror on the banks of the Garonne
Across the downs of Hastings they spurred hard by William's side,

And the grey sands of Palestine with Moslem blood they dyed;

But never then, nor thence, till now, has falsehood or disgrace

Been seen to soil Fitzgerald's plume, or mantle in his face.

The Geraldines! the Geraldines!--'tis true, in Strongbow's van,

By lawless force, as conquerors, their Irish reign began;

And, oh! through many a dark campaign they proved their prowess stern,

In Leinster's plains and Munster's vales on king and chief and kerne;

But noble was the cheer within the halls so rudely won,

And generous was the steel-gloved hand that had such slaughter done;

How gay their laugh, how proud their mien, you'd ask no herald's sign--

Among a thousand you had known the princely Geraldine.

The Geraldine forebear “who fought at William’s side” was Otho Geraldino who was a commander in William the Conquerer’s invading army from Normandy at the fateful Battle of Hastings in 1066. Otho’s father, Raoul Fitzgerald le Chambellan, is credited with being young William’s educator, so it is entirely possible that Otho and William learned and played together as boys. Another narrative tells that the original Geraldine came from Tuscany to William’s court.

(Note - The prefix ‘Fitz’, like the Gaelic ‘Mac’, means ‘son of’.)

After Hastings, a man called Walter FitzOtho (son of Otho), the constable of Windsor castle was part of the conquering army of occupation that subjugated England to Norman rule. Walter’s youngest son, Gerald FitzWalter of Windsor, took part in the invasion of South Wales in 1093 and was rewarded with a grant of lands in the notorious Welsh marchlands.

Raymond LeGros Fitzgerald

Gerald married the notable Welsh beauty, Princess Nesta ferch Rhys ap Tewdwr of Deheubarth, daughter of the last King of Wales, Rhys ap Tewdwr (Tudor). [Which means their descendants had Tudor genes!]

Gerald and Nesta’s son, William FitzGerald, (later Lord of Carew and Emlyn in South Wales) was father of Raymond Fitzgerald, nicknamed LeGros (= the Fat) who played a prominent part with the first invading force (“Strongbow’s van”) which landed at Baginbun in Ireland in August 1169 with the objective of helping the deposed Gaelic King of Leinster, Dermot MacMurrough win back his lost kingdom. At Raymond’s side were two other grandsons of Gerald and Nesta - Maurice FitzGerald, Lord of Lanstephan and Philip de Barry.

These were joined in a later incursion by another grandson, Robert Fitzstephen, while yet another grandson, Giraldus Cambrensis (Gerald of Wales), accompanied King Henry II when he came to Ireland to consolidate the Norman conquests during the winter of 1171-72.
Giraldus became a Chronicler of the Invasion as well as author of books describing this hitherto unknown land as well as the campaign to conquer it (Expugnatio Hibernica and Topographia Hibernica). As if that were not enough, a great grandson William deHay, was also among the adventurer soldiers who came to Ireland in 1169. No wonder the lady Nesta has been called “Mother of the Invasion of Ireland” as her descendants went on to become significant players in the history of the land they entered as invaders, as told in the Davis poem.

Raymond LeGros’ son Gerald was made 1^st Lord of Offaly by King John. During the late 13^th century, Gerald’s grandson, John was created 1^st Earl of Kildare by Edward I (Longshanks) as a reward for his services in the Scottish Wars against Robert deBruce.

The Munster Fitzgeralds (Desmonds)

Another Fitzgerald scion, John Fitzthomas Fitzgerald, was created 1^st Baron of Desmond (Munster) in 1259; from then on there were two branches of the family which, between them, controlled a sizable part of Ireland. The Desmond Baronetcy was raised to an Earldom in 1329, when Maurice Fitzgerald was created 1^st Earl of Desmond. In all there were 15 Desmond Earls, the last being Gerald the 15^th Earl, who was outlawed and executed in 1583 after a disastrous rebellion against Queen Elizabeth Tudor and her Reformed Church. This not only destroyed the title, but left the entire territory of Munster ruined, due to the Royal army’s burnt earth policy.

The Kildare Fitzgeralds

The Kildare Earldom proved to be more enduring. Their coat of arms portrays a monkey which drew its inspiration from a nocturnal fire in one of their castles in when the animal, a castle pet, saved the life of the infant John who grew up to be the first Earl. Thereafter the words “Non Immemor Beneficii” (We do not forget benefactors) was sometimes added to the Kildare coat of arms, while two monkeys can still be seen on their coat of arms carved on the walls of the Fitzgerald castle in Maynooth.

The most prominent Earl of Kildare was the 8^th Earl, Garret Mór (The Great Earl) who served as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland from 1473 until his death in 1513. So powerful was Garret that the ever pragmatic King Henry VII (first Tudor monarch and distant relative), deemed it wise not to interfere or remove him from office, despite Garret’s support for Lambert Simnel, the pretender to his throne. 

The reason for the King’s rather forgiving attitude was simple and very obviously true: “as all Ireland cannot rule this man, this man must rule all Ireland”. 

The Fitzgeralds had many enemies and many in the King’s court were of the opinion that the Fitzgeralds, like many Anglo-Irish nobles of the day, had become too Gaelicised and much too immersed in Gaelic ways to be trusted to properly serve English interests in Ireland.

Monkeys on coat of arms (Maynooth)  

The Henry VII’s successor, Henry VIII, was determined to bind the virtually independent Irish colony much closer to the English throne and pressurized Garret Mór’s son, the 9^th Earl (called Garret Óg = Young Garret) who had also inherited his father’s title of Lord Lieutenant of Ireland by summoning him to London to answer charges made by the family’s many enemies. Garret left his eldest son Thomas in charge of affairs as he travelled to defend himself. 

Thomas was a young man of fashion who had earned himself the nickname “Silken Thomas”, but unfortunately, his taste in fashion was not matched by political prudence. He was easily taken in by false rumours put about by the same enemies to the effect that his father had been executed in London. Thomas assumed the title of 10^th Earl and marched with an army on Dublin where he threw down his father’s Sword of State in front of the King’s Irish Council and tried to occupy the city. 

He was expelled by Royal forces who were able to use newly acquired cannon and gunpowder in a siege of the Fitzgerald castle in Maynooth, the first reported use of artillery in Ireland. Thomas and five of his Fitzgerald uncles were taken captive to the Tower of London where they were executed on Feb 3^rd 1537. Garret Óg, still alive, on learning what had happened in his absence, died shortly afterwards a broken man.

While the power of the Geraldines in Ireland was fatally broken, the title and lands were restored to a younger brother of Silken Thomas (11^th Earl), the reputed “Wizard Earl” who is said to still haunt the Fitzgerald Castle of Kilkea, in South Kildare.

Dukes of Leinster

Though the Earls of Kildare never regained the same level of power and influence as the illustrious 8^th and 9^th Earls, the Geraldines continued to grace the pages of Irish history during the centuries.

Their title was changed in 1766 to that of Dukes of Leinster. The first Duke built Leinster House as the family’s Dublin residence. The spacious building is now the home of the Irish Parliament, Dáil Eireann.

Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was the younger brother of the 1st Duke was a veteran of the American War of Independence. While he had served in the British army under Lord Cornwallis, the young aristocrat returned from America full of “new-fangled” ideas of liberty and the Rights of Man. This caused him to become an enthusiastic member and leader of the newly formed United Irishmen whose objective was to create an egalitarian society, which would necessitate the creation of a new Ireland which would “break the connection with England”. 

In spite of his high connections in Government, the close affinity of the United Irishmen with Revolutionary France, with whom England was at war eventually forced the authorities to move to arrest Lord Edward. He resisted and was fatally injured when Major Sirr attempted to take him from the house where he was hiding. He died from his wounds after a few days later, reviled by many of his aristocratic contemporaries as a traitor, but remembered by many more in the population as a true Irish patriot.

The title Duke of Leinster still exists and is currently held by the 15^th of the line.

The Fitzgerald contribution to modern Ireland

Among the names of those who featured in the emergence of the new Republic of Ireland in the first half of last century was Desmond Fitzgerald who was the first Dáil’s (Ireland’s Parliament) Publicity Officer and subsequently served as the new state’s first Minister of External Affairs and subsequently of Justice. As a native of Kerry in Munster, he was likely to have been descendant of the old Munster ‘Desmond’ Fitzgeralds who had lost their titles and lands in the Elizabethan era.

His son Garret Fitzgerald, served twice as Irish Taoiseach (Prime Minister) during the 1980’s.

Perhaps Davis words, written a century earlier, were prophetic.

These Geraldines! these Geraldines!--rain wears away the rock
And time may wear away the tribe that stood the battle's shock;
But ever, sure, while one is left of all that honoured race,

In front of Ireland's chivalry is that Fitzgerald's place
And, though the last were dead and gone, how many a field and town,

From Thomas Court to Abbeyfeale, would cherish their renown,
And men would say of valour's rise, or ancient power's decline,
'Twill never soar, it never shone, as did the Geraldine."

The Geraldines! the Geraldines!--and are there any fears
Within the sons of conquerors for full a thousand years?

Can treason spring from out a soil bedewed with martyrs' blood?

Or has that grown a purling brook, which long rushed down a flood?
By Desmond swept with sword and fire--by clan and keep laid low

By Silken Thomas and his kin,--by sainted Edward, no!

The forms of centuries rise up, and in the Irish line
Command their son to take the post that fits the Geraldine.

Other famous Fitzgeralds

The 35^th President of the United States, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, derived his middle name from his mother’s family, so in every sense the Kennedy siblings and their descendants can justifiably claim to be Geraldines.

William Charles Fitzgerald of the United States Navy had the destroyer USS Fitzgerald named after him.

Other notable Fitzgeralds include the author F. Scott Fitzgerald and blues singer Ella Fitzgerald.

Finally, and as if Ireland or the World was not enough for them another Fitzgerald, physicist George Fitzgerald, has given his name to the Fitzgerald Crater on the surface of the Moon. From this it seems that Lady Nesta and her Geraldine husband were not to be content with just the invasion of Ireland all those centuries ago. They could have had far wider horizons in mind for their Geraldine progeny, not just on earth, but beyond.
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Arthur Russell is the author of Morgallion. Set in early 13th century Ireland during the Bruce invasion, it tells how one small Gaelic community living in close proximity with an English garrison comes to terms with trying to survive the traumas of the times they have to live through. 
For more, visit website www.morgallion.com 

Henry II and the Rule of Law

by Christy English

Henry II fought throughout his reign to consolidate control into the monarchy's hands and to extend the king's peace.

When he took the throne in 1154, England had been at war for almost two decades as Stephen the Usurper and Mathilda of Normandy fought for the English throne. It was Henry II who at the age of nineteen finally settled this question, defeating Stephen in a decisive battle during the same summer when Stephen's son and heir died of a fever.

Needless to say, during the twenty years of civil war, the king's peace was more than broken. It was crushed, along with many villages, people, and crops. By the time Henry II took the throne in December of 1154, England was desperately in need of the king's peace. At first, this peace only extended to the room the king was in: if you drew your sword in anger in the king's presence, your life was forfeit.

During Henry II's reign, for the first time since the Norman invasion, the king's peace began to extend beyond his presence. Henry worked to make sure that if the king's peace was broken anywhere in England, secular law would deal with the culprit. This was seen as power-mongering among his barons, but for the peasants of England, the king's peace meant that if someone was raped or killed or brutalized, they or their loved ones had legal recourse.

Henry II's famous conflict with Thomas Becket stemmed from this concern over the rule of law. When Thomas was Henry's chancellor, he worked along with him to strengthen law in England. But once he was made Archbishop of Canterbury, his loyalties were with the Church, and Rome.

                                                                     Thomas Becket

When a priest, even a layman, committed a crime, he was not charged in the secular courts but in an ecclesiastical one. This meant that any priest could rape or kill with complete impunity, because often ecclesiastical courts chose to look the other way when dealing with errant priests.

Henry II fought long and hard over this issue, but his work hit a setback with the death of Thomas Becket in December of 1170. As difficult at the unruly archbishop had been, once Becket was martyred, Henry lost the moral high ground. Forced to do penance for Thomas' murder in 1174, Henry spent the rest of his reign fighting his sons for control the empire he had built.

In spite of the end of his reign, Henry II did the most of any other Norman king to further the rule of law in England. We remember him most for his family conflicts, but perhaps we should remember him for his love of the law instead.

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Christy English is the author of The Queen's Pawn and To Be Queen, novels about Eleanor of Aquitaine as well as the Regency romances How to Tame a Willful Wife and Love on a Midsummer Night. For more about the early Plantagenets and Regency romance fun, please join her on her website Working with the Muse

The First Anglo-Afghan War or Auckland's Folly

by David William Wilkin

Those of us old enough [DWW -- I am at an age where I can use this cliche] or with a sense of humor that has delved into the spirited biography of Sir Harry Paget Flashman will know that this war is the first in which that intrepid (not) hero has his adventures.

This example, Flashman, by George MacDonald Fraser [Fraser was the screenwriter for the classic Three and Four Musketeer movies staring Oliver Reed and Michael York, directed by Richard Lester] is as keen a work of historical fiction as there ever was. Fraser takes us through much of the Victorian era, using an antagonist from Tom Brown's Schooldays. 

In the first book of his series, Fraser takes us to India and Afghanistan with Flashman embroiled in the misadventures that land him at Kabul at the very beginning of this crisis. It was here that I came to learn how difficult a war in Afghanistan can be -- a point that the Joint Chiefs might have realised had they read Flashman, or studied British Military History. Certainly in modern times, with their own support, they showed the Russians how difficult fighting in that country is.

The War

The action that took place between 1839 and 1842 resulted in the deaths of 4500 British troops, and 12,000 camp followers. All but one man, as the British forces retreated to India, survived to reach Jalalabad. The rest were killed, or a very few were taken captive and later released. Many others may have ended up slaves to the Afghan Tribes. In retribution for the destruction of the column that had surrendered and were marching away from Afghanistan, the British would return and level Kabul.

The cause of this war was the fear by Lord Palmerston that the Russians might invade India by way of the passes through Afghanistan. The British sent an envoy to meet with Afghanistan's Emir Dost Mohammad Khan. The Emir wanted support to help retake Peshawar from the Sikh Empire. Lord Auckland, the Governor General heard that the Emir was also meeting with a Russian Envoy, though the advisors to Auckland made more of this than was so. When talks broke down between the Russians and the Emirs, the British thought that the Russians would certainly invade, and the Persians, backed by the Russians attempted to do so, but stopped when Britain threatened war.

Not happy with all the various negotiations, Lord Auckland sought to put Shuja Shah Durrani in 1838 as ruler of Afghanistan so they would have a firm ally. The British claimed it was not an invasion, yet it was certainly interfering with a country beyond the scope of the borders they did control firmly--an arrogant attitude that would re-emerge in Southern Africa later on, though there the costs were not to be as great in lives.

Eventually, the British sent an army of 21,000 troops commanded by William Elphinstone, a man well past his prime as a competent officer. They arrived at Kandahar in April of 1839. In July they attacked and captured the fortress of Ghazni. The British lost 200 men whilst the Afghans lost 500. 1600 Afghans were taken prisoner. The British then achieved a victory against Dost Mohammad who fled. In August, after an absence of almost 30 years, Shuja Shah Durrani was once again enthroned in Kabul.

A British-Indian force attacks the Ghazni fort during the First Afghan War, 1839

Now the majority of British troops returned to India. This though showed that a larger British presence was needed in Kabul to keep Shah Shuja in power. The government of Britain's representative, William Hay Macnaghten, allowed the soldiers to bring their families to Afghanistan to improve their morale. This further incited the Afghans though, since it looked like the British were coming permanently, when such was not the case.

Dost Mohammad attacked in 1840 and failed, surrendering and was then exiled into India. The British took up residence in northeast Kabul in an indefensible location. Bad planning also saw that their stores and supplies were in a separate fort, some three hundred yards away. In 1841 disaffected Afghan Tribesmen flocked to Dost Mohammad's son, Akbar Khan, and in November Sir Alexander Sekundar Burnes and his aides were killed by a mob in Kabul. On November 9th the Afghans took the supply fort.

The British tried to negotiate with Akbar Khan. Macnaghten offered to make Akbar the vizier, while also trying to pay for Akbar's assassination. Akbar heard of this and then consented to a meeting on December 23rd. Macnaghten and three officers went to this meeting. Akbar seized and killed them all. 

On January 1 1842, an agreement was reached to allow the British to retreat. 16,500 people left Kabul, but only one, Doctor William Brydon arrived in Jalalabad. 

'Remnants of an Army' by Elizabeth Butler portraying William Brydon arriving at the gates of Jalalabad as the only survivor of a 16,500 strong evacuation from Kabul in January 1842.

The British response was thorough. Akbar Khan's forces were attacked. They were defeated. Akbar was poisoned, probably by his father Dost Mohammad. The British were planning to take back Kabul, but there was a change in government back in England, and instead they chose to abandon Afghanistan.

The British were thirty five years ahead of events in their fears of the Russians using Afghanistan as a path into India. It took the Russians that long to extend their empire so that they were ready to advance. This precipitated the Second Anglo-Afghan war.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mr. Wilkin writes Regency Historicals and Romances, Ruritanian (A great sub-genre that is fun to explore) and Edwardian Romances, Science Fiction and Fantasy works. He is the author of the very successful Pride & Prejudice continuation; Colonel Fitzwilliam’s Correspondence. He has several other novels set in Regency England including The End of the World and The Shattered Mirror. 


His most recent work is the humorous spoof; Jane Austen and Ghosts, a story of what would happen were we to make any of these Monsters and Austen stories into a movie.


And Two Peas in a Pod, a madcap tale of identical twin brothers in Regency London who find they must impersonate each other to pursue their loves.
He is published by Regency Assembly Press

The links for all locations selling Mr. Wilkin's work can be found at the webpage and will point you to your favorite internet bookstore: David’s Books, and at various Internet and realworld bookstores including the iBookstore, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords.

And he maintains his own blog called The Things That Catch My Eye where the entire Regency Lexicon has been hosted these last months as well as the current work in progress of the full Regency Timeline is being presented.

You also may follow Mr. Wilkin on Twitter at @DWWilkin

Mr. Wilkin maintains a Pinterest page with pictures and links to all the Regency Research he uncovers at Pinterest Regency-Era