King James I: Royal Demonologist

Even by the standards of his age, King James VI of Scotland, who later became James I of England, stood out as a deeply superstitious man, ruled by his obsession with the occult.

Before his reign, witchcraft persecutions had been rare in Britain. But that all changed in 1590 when James personally oversaw the trials by torture for around seventy individuals implicated in the North Berwick Witch Trials, the biggest Scotland had known. The witches’ alleged crime? Raising a storm which nearly sank James’s ship when he sailed home from Norway with his new bride, Anne of Denmark. Possibly dozens of accused witches were executed by burning at the stake, although the precise number is unknown.

In 1597 James published his book, Daemonologie, his rebuttal of Reginald Scot’s skeptical work, The Discoverie of Witchcraft, which questioned the very existence of witches. Daemonologie was an alarmist book, presenting the idea of a vast conspiracy of satanic witches threatening to undermine the nation.

In 1604, only one year after James ascended to the English throne, he passed his new Witchcraft Act, which made invoking spirits a crime punishable by execution.

James’s ideas on witchcraft were later popularised by Shakespeare’s play Macbeth, which had its premier performance at James’s court in 1606. For the first time in history, English drama depicted witches gathering in secret for their own malign rituals and scheming.

The weird sisters, hand in hand,
Posters by the sea and land,
Thus do go, about, about,
Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice again, to make up nine.
Peace, the charm's wound up.
(Macbeth, I,iii, 32-37)


According to Instruments of Darkness by James Sharpe, this terror of supposed witch covens was the driving factor mobilising 17th century witch hunts. Previously the belief in witches’ covens had been a Continental European concept, foreign to traditional British folk magic, practised by individuals, not collectives. No evidence exists that supposed witches in Early Modern Britain organised themselves into collectives, and nothing of the black mass can be traced to England at this time.

It wouldn't take long before life began to imitate James's and Shakespeare's dark fiction.

Six years on, in 1612, the King’s paranoid fantasy of satanic conspiracy, planted in the minds of local magistrates hoping to earn his favour, culminated in one of the key manifestations of the Jacobean witch-craze: the trials of the Lancashire Witches of Pendle, which resulted in the execution of seven women and two men. According to Thomas Potts's The Wonderfull Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Lancaster, the official trial transcripts, the accused allegedly gathered "according to solemn appointment" at Malkin Tower on Good Friday, "with great cheer, merry company and much conference," and then plotted to blow up Lancaster Castle with gunpowder. As far-fetched as this scenario seems--where would a group of impoverished commonfolk even get hold of gunpowder--it fed directly into James' fears following the Gunpowder Plot of 1605.

James’s unfortunate legacy extends even into our age. The King James Bible, completed in 1611, saw the scriptures rewritten to further the King’s agenda. Exodus 22:18, originally translated as, “Thou must not suffer a poisoner to live,” became “Thou must not suffer a witch to live.”


Speaking of the Pendle Witches, local preparations for commemorating the 400th anniversary of the 1612 Lancashire Witch Trials are underway. Read more about it here.

LADY BRILLIANA HARLEY AND THE SIEGE OF BRAMPTON BRYAN CASTLE

Thank you to those of our readers who fed back that they most enjoyed reading about the characters of the period (and there were certainly plenty of those!). I thought for the next couple of blogs I would continue on from my blog about the “She Souldiers” and introduce you to some of the formidable ladies of the English Civil War, starting with one of my favourites – Lady Brilliana Harley of Brampton Bryan Castle in Herefordshire.

The Harleys were an old, established Herefordshire family who had settled at Brampton Bryan and built a castle there in the early fourteenth century. Brilliana was the third wife of Sir Robert Harley and it can be seen from the letters (some of which were contained a secret code) that passed between Brilliana and her husband that it was a strong and affectionate partnership. They had three sons and four daughters, all of whom survived into adulthood.

As England lurched towards Civil War, Herefordshire showed itself solidly and staunchly Royalist in sympathy. The Harleys, puritans and supporters of Parliament, rapidly found themselves themselves the butt of unpleasant taunts and rumours, long before the first shot had been fired. When the war finally broke out, Sir Robert Harley, a member of Parliament, remained in London. At his insistence Brilliana and her daughters were left at Brampton Bryan, an island of Parliamentary sympathy in a sea of Royalists. Being a practical woman, she turned her mind to what she would need in the event of hostilities and added powder, match and flintlocks to her housewifely shopping list.

The early months of the war did not go well for the Parliamentarians but it was not until July 1643 that Brampton Bryan found itself the centre of royalist attention and her former neighbours, friends and relatives suddenly found themselves ordered to “reduce” Brampton Bryan. An awkward correspondence between besieger and besieged ensued, but Brilliana politely but firmly refused to surrender Brampton saying “…my dear husband hath entrusted me with his house but according to his pleasure, therefore I cannot dispose of his house but according to his pleasure…”.

Hostilities commenced, the village of Brampton Bryan was razed and artillery brought to bear on the castle. Despite heavy bombardment casualties within the castle were surprisingly light. A personal offer of terms from the King did not move the lady who played for time in the knowledge that the Earl of Essex was going to the relief of the siege of Gloucester, which would divert the royalist forces. After seven weeks the siege was lifted and Lady Brilliana set about replenishing stores within the castle. Encouraged by the news that the siege of Gloucester had been lifted, she went on the offensive, sending out foraging parties and an attack force to the town of Knighton. By early October the royalists were again poised to renew the siege.

Brilliana wrote to her son, Ned on 9 October 1643 “…I have taken a very great cold, which has made me very ill these 2 or 3 days, but I hope that the Lord will be merciful to me, in giving me health, for it is an ill time to be sick in. My dear Ned, I pray God bless you and give me the comfort of seeing you again…”

Sadly she was never to see her husband or sons again as she died of pneumonia on 31 October leaving “the saddest garrison in the three kingdoms”.

In the spring of 1644, Brampton Bryan Castle was besieged a second time and finally fell to the royalists. The castle was “reduced” (a term meaning, destroyed so as not to be capable of defence again) but the lives of the defenders were spared and the fame of Lady Brilliana Harley spread, earning her the “admiration and applause even of her enemies”.

References:

Letters of Lady Brilliana Harley

The Siege of Brampton Bryan Castle

Books

Alison Plowden: Women All on Fire – The Women of the English Civil War

Jacqueline Eales: Puritans and Roundheads – the Harleys of Brampton Bryan and the outbreak of the English Civil War

Antonia Fraser: The Weaker Vessel

On water and germs

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(Men bathing, 17th century Italy)

As winter approached in Canada this year, everyone caught "swine flu" (H1N1) nerves. Like many, I felt uneasy in crowds, and I think I would have felt uneasy in a crowded public pool or sauna, as well. There is something a wee bit intimate about sharing hot, steamy air, and hot, steamy water during a health scare. Our instinct is to retreat.

Imagine a world where at least one-third of the population dies horribily over the course of a short four years. This is what happened after the Black Plague came to Europe in 1347. Twenty-five million people died during that first outbreak. Other outbreaks continued sporatically for 350 years, often with devastating effects. The fearful Plague was never far from the minds of men and women in 17th century Europe (which may help account for the profound spiritualism of the period). 

Needless to say, fear of getting sick was uppermost in most people's minds. Theories abounded about how to avoid it. In 1348, the medical facultiy of the University of Paris concluded that the Plague was caused by an unfortunate conjunction of Saturn, Jupitoer and Mars, causing infected vapours to rise up out of the earth and waters. The obese, intemperate and over-passionate were most at risk.

Also at risk, they claimed, were people who took hot baths, because hot water opened the pores of the skin, allowing the Plague to enter.

Not only could bad things enter the body through water, but the all-important balance of the four humours could also be upset through pores opened by moisture. [The Dirt on Clean, page 95]

Soon water immersion was believed a threat in a number of ways to a person's health ... and so began the end of personal bathing for several centuries — the dirtiest in the history of Europe.

In 17th century France (my period), the aristocracy rarely bathed, washing only their hands and feet, and face, on occasion. They believed that a linen chemise cleansed them better, drawing sweat away safely. The King and his brother changed their linen chemise three times a day and were thus considered clean.

(Right) The Sun King's son, Le Grand Dauphin, had his hair combed for the first time at seven months, and his first bath at the age of almost seven.

Ironically, many bathed (clothed) in the rivers and lakes (not the ocean, however, which was still considered too fearful). Also, the aristocracy regularly went to mineral water spas, for reasons of health. This practice began to change water's reputation as a promoter of disease to a promoter of health — but even so, very slowly.

We still have a long way to go to achieve the standards for personal cleanliness set long ago by the Romans, who went to the baths for two to three hours a day.


Reference: The Dirt on Clean; An Unsanitized History, by Katherine Ashenburg.


*****
Sandra Gulland, Author of the Josephine B. Trilogy and Mistress of the Sun
Website: http://www.sandragulland.com/
Blog: http://sandragulland.blogspot.com/
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Execution of Charles I

360 years ago today, Charles I stepped out of the Banqueting House on a bitterly cold day onto a hastily constructed wooden scaffold erected between Whitehall Gate and the Gate leading into the gallery from St. James's.

Accompanied by Dr. Juxon, Col. Thomlinson and other officers appointed to attend him, plus a private armed guard of musketeers, Charles I faced a massive crowd of curious Londoners.

Legend says he put on two shirts – in case the frigid January air meant the crowd mistook his shivering for fear – He apparently asked for the block to be made higher, but the executior told him this was not possible.

His trial was held at Westminster Hall, established by a bill passed by the Long Parliament, after 'Pride's Purge' in December 1648. The bill nominated 3 judges and 150 commissioners who were empowered to try the King. John Bradshaw was president of the trial, with John Cooke as prosecutor. Charles refused to enter a plea, and refused to answer any of the charges, declaring:

'I would know by what power I am called hither, by what lawful authority…?'

Charles spent the morning of 30 January in prayer while Parliament hurriedly passed an ordinance making it treason to declare a successor. He was then led out to the scaffold outside the Banqueting House at about 2pm. In his final speech he called himself “the martyr of the people” and reminded the audience that “a subject and a sovereign are clear different things”. He then declared:

'I shall go from a corruptible to an incorruptible Crown, where no disturbance can be.'

After forgiving his executioner, he placed his head on the block, and gave the signal for him to proceed. His head was severed in one blow and when held up for the crown to see, many women fainted, despite that public exections were considered a leisure activity in the 1600's.

The identity of the executioner was never revealed, because he wore a mask. However the following were put forward as candidates:

* Richard Brandon, the common Hangman of London: he reportedly refused, but is said by some to have confessed to the execution on his deathbed.
* William Hewlett, who was convicted for his part in signing the death warrant at Charles II’s restoration.
* Two men, “Dayborne and Bickerstaffe”, who were arrested but never charged.
* Henry Walker, a former ironmonger turned writer and journalist, who covered the trial in his newsbooks.

Even in death, Charles found no dignity. Spectators were allowed to go up to the scaffold and, after paying, dip handkerchiefs in his blood. It was felt that the blood of a king when wiped onto a wound, or held by a sick person would act as a cure.

On the 6th February, 1649, the monarchy was abolished. Parliament stated that:

'the office of the king in this nation is unnecessary, burdensome and dangerous to the liberty, society and public interest of the people.'

On making the 17th Century Book Video

An increasing number of authors are creating video trailers to promote their books. Historical fiction gives an added depth and flavour to the process, a chance to show off your period garb or highlight the elements of history that your book draws out.

I was very fortunate that my publisher, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, arranged for me to create such a trailer for my forthcoming novel, Daughters of the Witching Hill. The history of the Pendle Witches is so rich in its own right, it's just crying out to be filmed.

My marketing director arranged for me to work with London filmmaker Callum Macrae of Outsider Television. Callum is a seasoned veteran who has filmed in war zones, done documentaries, and worked for programmes such as Panorama. He has also recently started doing "Lit Vids"--literary videos. Here is a link to the trailer he did for Tom Levenson's nonfiction book, Newton and the Counterfeiter.

First, Callum and I worked out a draft script by email. Callum had many brilliant ideas. What we ended up aiming for was something quite ambitious--more like a mini-docudrama than the typical promotional video.

Callum drove up on a Thursday with his assistant camera woman, the beautiful and brilliant Livvy Haydock. The first day we discussed the script while driving around various locations in the Pendle region. The rugged landscape proved to be as indispensible for the filming as it was for the actual storytelling. You could just picture the characters emerging from the misty moorland.

We shot on location at my stables with scenes of me on horseback since riding my horse around the Pendle region was such an instrumental part of my creative process. I had considered riding in costume, but, alas, I never learned to ride side-saddle. Callum actually thought it was better that I just ride as Mary in the twenty-first-century, and so that's what I did, less-than-flattering-riding-helmet and all. Booshka, my Welsh Section D mare, was impeccably well-behaved, even though she couldn't understand why we wanted her to keep walking back and forth over and over again in front of the camera for over half an hour.

I had never realised how many "takes" you need to get a scene just right.

After Miss Boo got her treats and was turned out to play in the field with her friends, we drove on to Malkin Tower Farm, where the owners, Rachel and Andrew Turner, gave us a warm welcome and showed us what are believed to be the ruined foundations of what was once Malkin Tower, home to my protagonist Mother Demdike and three generations of her family.

Malkin Tower Farm has a number of lovely, inviting holiday cottages in an area of outstanding natural beauty. If you ever visit Pendle, it's the perfect place to stay. They welcome walkers and cyclists, and have two very friendly and engaging dogs.

I crouched down near the stones, explaining their significance to the camera, while camera assistant Livvy donned historical costume and did a sequence in the background, walking down the steep slope around the ruins, as Mother Demdike's granddaughter, Alizon Device. Callum filmed another sequence of Livvy as Alizon walking through gnarled winter trees. With her long blond hair and porcelain skin (she wore no make up for the filming), Livvy was hauntingly perfect as Alizon.

Since we were so pressed for time, having to do all the filming on one day in the fleeting winter daylight, we put the historical costumes on over our modern clothes. So, in the costume sequences, I was wearing a long skirt over my riding breeches and tall boots. In the non-costume sequences, I wore my 17th century bodice and chemise-like blouse and corset under my winter jacket. I spent the entire day in my corset, rode my horse in my corset, even mucked out in my corset. How is that for historical authenticity?

After Malkin Tower Farm, we drove on to the old quarry outside the village in Newchurch in Pendle. It was while walking past this quarry at daylight gate--twilight in the local dialect--that Mother Demdike, called Bess in my novel, first met Tibb, her familiar spirit. In traditional English folk magic, no cunning woman could work her spells without a familiar, or otherworldly ally. So the day she met Tibb was really the turning point of her life, when she first came into her powers. A fanciful Victorian stonemason carved a man's head on the quarry stone to commemorate the legends of Tibb.

In the quarry I discussed all this for the camera before changing into costume and reciting an excerpt from the novel, in character as Mother Demdike, describing the moment when she first met her familiar spirit, who appeared to her in the guise of a beautiful young man. Callum wanting me speaking, not reading, so I had to learn all the passages by heart.

The light in the quarry kept changing dramatically. At once point we were enveloped in dense fog before it lifted to dazzling evening sunlight. Then, off down the valley, mist lifted off the damp green fields like plumes of rising smoke.

By the time we finished the filming, daylight gate was closing. It was getting dark and we'd finished filming all the outdoor sequences just in the nick of time.

We drove back to the stable where we turned an empty stall into a witch's cottage with dried herbs hanging on the wall, an old fashioned willow broom, candles, and even sheep skulls for ambiance. Callum also had a smoke machine going to create an eerie atmosphere.

Our props included facsimile editions of the two historical books my novel draws on as primary sources, The Wonderfull Discoverie of Witchcraft in the Countie of Lancaster, by Thomas Potts, the official transcripts of the 1612 Pendle Witch Trial, and Daemonologie, written by King James I, a witch-hunter's handbook that his magistrates were expected to read. I found jpegs of the original, historical title pages of these documents on the internet and then Callum printed them out at home and treated them with tea stains and coffee grounds until they resembled yellowing, crumbling old manuscript pages.

In our "witch's cottage," I discussed the significance of the historical documents and then recited some more passages from the novel, in costume and in character as Mother Demdike. My chosen excerpt was from the opening of the novel, when Mother Demdike, her daughter Liza, and granddaughter Alizon confront churchwarden Richard Baldwin who has refused to pay Liza for the work she's done carding wool for him. According to the primary sources, Baldwin tried to drive the women away with a horse whip, calling them whores and witches. He is recorded as saying, "I will burn the one of you and hang the other."

To punctuate these scenes of conflict between Mother Demdike and the authorities, we used a braided leather whip, purchased from a London joke shop. Callum cracked the whip on the floor while Livvy filmed close up shots.

I was worried that the noise might spook the horse in the next stall, so I went out to check. The horse in question merely nuzzled my pockets for treats, so he didn't seem too traumatised.

A dog club was meeting at the stable grounds that night, so our audio takes had the odd bark and howl in the background which added to the aura of mystery.

We weren't finished at the stable until nearly 9:00 at night, by which time the fog outside was so thick, it made the smoke machine redundant.

Back at my home, we finished the voiceover takes.

I can hardly wait to see the finished product, which Callum and Livvy will edit. After the publisher has approved it, the short film should go live on sites like Amazon.com and Barnesandnoble.com. Watch this space.