The Battle of Carter Bar, otherwise known as ‘the Raid of the Redeswire’ (Reidswair; Reidswyre) or ‘the Redeswire Fray’, took place on the 7th of July, 1575.
This battle is most often referred to as ‘the Raid of the Redeswire’ and was one of the last major battles fought between the English and the Scots. It isn’t really a very well known battle, compared to many others in the long list of raids, skirmishes, battles and other conflicts in the wars between Scotland and England. It wasn’t a raid either and neither did it take place in the Redeswire. Well, we could argue that, but no matter. The Redeswire was a drove road that criss-crossed the River Rede, essentially following the river right up to the head of Redesdale, climbing up over the watershed of the Rede and crossing into Scotland. The protagonists arrived at the scene of the battle no doubt having followed the Redeswire from their respective starting points, but the fight didn’t take place on the road. It took place at a meeting point below a ridge of the Cheviot pass, which enters Redesdale above the hamlet of Carter Bar, hence its proper name.
The battle was commemorated in a ‘Border Ballad’ called ‘Raid of the Reidswire’, which is how it came to be known by that name. Sir Walter Scott also wrote an account of the battle, which can be found in ‘The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border’. However, the opposing sides met at Carter Bar in an arranged meeting under what was meant to be a truce, so there was definitely no cross border raid.
The meeting was initially scheduled for Kemelspeth, but was subsequently rearranged for the convenience of the Scots. It was to be between the respective Wardens of the Marches, ironically, those nobles responsible for keeping the peace on the border. These kinds of meetings were fairly regular occurrences in times of relative peace, where the violence was limited to thieving and plundering across the border – the routine pastime of border reiving. The object of such meetings was to clear up grievances on either side and settle any disputes. Sir John Carmichael was the deputy Keeper of Liddesdale, representing the Scottish Warden and he arrived at Carter Bar with a small band of pikemen and gunmen. These were predominantly men of Liddesdale, led by Elliots and with others from Teviot, Rule Water, and Hawick. There were also Turnbulls and Rutherfords present from Jedburgh.
Sir John Forster was the Warden of the English Middle March and he arrived with Sir George Heron of Chipchase, the Keeper of Tynedale and Redesdale, and a sizeable force consisting mainly of bowmen. Forster was known for double-dealing and Carmichael knew he couldn’t be trusted, although the meeting wasn’t to be avoided. To make matters worse, the Scottish contingent included members of the Crozier family, who were arch-enemies of the English Fenwicks of Wallington. Any sort of an argument could set off the powder keg if matters were not handled properly. Arrogance and hot-headedness were set to rule the day, particularly that of Forster, the English Warden.
In the course of the proceedings a true bill was found against a notorious English Freebooter named Farnstein. Forster claimed that he was a fugitive from justice, whereupon Carmichael, taking this as a pretext to avoid payment, shouted out, "Play Fair". Forster retorted with some Anglo-Saxon insults and insinuations regarding Carmichael's family and pedigree. His retinue, chiefly men of Redesdale and Tynedale, perhaps looking for any old excuse, reacted in support by discharging a flight of arrows amongst the Scots. All hell was then let loose.
The ‘Ballad’ describes the scene changing from an initially friendly encounter to a bloody battle rather well:
Some gaed to drink and some stude still
And some to cards and dice them sped
Till on ane Farnstein they fyled a bill
And he was fugitive and fled.
Then was there nought but bow and speir
And every man pulled out a brand;
"A Schafton and a Fenwick" thare:
Gude Symington was slain frae hand.
Notwithstanding the English began the fray with a cowardly attack and considerably outnumbered their foes, the Scots ultimately got the better of the conflict. Several notable border warriors were celebrated in the ‘Ballad’, including George Douglas of Bean Jeddart, Rutherford of Hundlie, and Sir Andrew Turnbull of Bedrule upon Rule Water. Casualties on the English side included Sir George Heron, his brother John and many other notable English Nobles, and Fenwick of Wallington, who was merely severely wounded. The prisoners were taken to Dalkeith, but the Regent Morton, ruling for the young King James VI, had one eye towards the succession of Elizabeth I and, as a consequence, treated them well and eventually sent them home.
Now, every year in June-July, the good people of Jedburgh celebrate the Callants’ Festival, which was inaugurated in 1947. The festival is part of the Common Ridings, which these days celebrate border history and legend, and commemorate the tradition, dating back to the 13th and 14th Centuries, of riding the parish boundaries, or 'marches' to protect common lands and prevent encroachment by neighbouring reivers. ‘Ridings’ take place from several border towns and the most important from Jedburgh is to Carter Bar. The story goes that the timely arrival of a contingent from Jedburgh, with its battle cry of “Jethart’s here”, turned what might have been a defeat for the men of Liddesdale into a famous rout of the English.
Redesdale, in the vicinity of Carter Bar, was also the site of an earlier battle, in 1400, when Sir Robert Umfraville routed a less fortunate Scottish force. Redesdale includes the settlements of Carter Bar, Elsdon, Rochester, Byrness and Otterburn, which last was also the site of an historic battle, fought under moonlight, in 1388, between the armies of England and Scotland. Nigel Tranter covers the events at Carter Bar in his novel ‘A Rage of Regents’, with John Carmichael as the story’s main character.
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
The Treaty of Edinburgh
The Treaty of Edinburgh was signed between Scotland, England and France on the 6th of July, 1560.
Two events in 1560 combined to create the environment for the signing of the Treaty of Edinburgh. In February, the Treaty of Berwick was signed, which led to English troops entering Scotland. And in June, the Catholic Mary of Guise, mother of Mary, Queen of Scots, and co-Regent of Scotland, died. That latter event signalled and end to Catholic resistance in Scotland. The Treaty of Edinburgh was then concluded on the 6th of July, 1560. With the assent of the Scottish Lords of the Congregation, the Commissioners of Queen Elizabeth I and French representatives in Scotland agreed to formally conclude the Siege of Leith, abolish the ‘Auld Alliance’ between France and Scotland, establish a new Anglo Scottish accord, and maintain the peace between England and France that had been agreed by the Treaty of Cateau-Cambresis. Also included in the Treaty was the agreement for Mary, Queen of Scots, and her husband, the French King François II, to give up Mary’s claim to the English crown and to recognise Elizabeth I as rightful Queen of England.
The earlier Treaty of Berwick was signed on the 27th of February, 1560, between the representatives of Queen Elizabeth I of England and the Scottish Lords of the Congregation. The result of that treaty was that an English fleet and an army came to Scotland to help expel the ten thousand French troops that were defending the Regency of the Catholic Mary of Guise. The reason Elizabeth was so keen on that treaty was because she feared that France intended to rule Scotland, which would have threatened her realm. In addition, she feared greater unity between Scotland and France, and in particular, Mary Stewart’s claim to her throne.
Mary had a strong claim to that throne, through her grandfather, James IV, who was married to Margaret Tudor, sister of Henry VIII. Catholic Mary was therefore a legitimate relative of Henry VIII, unlike Protestant Elizabeth, who was illegitimate, at least in Catholic eyes, because they saw her father’s marriage to Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth’s mother, as being illegal. Ipso facto, she was not the true Queen of England.
In addition, when Mary had married the then fifteen year old Dauphin, François, on the 24th of April, 1558, when she was herself just fourteen, the two countries had signed an accord. That agreement stipulated that the crowns of Scotland and France would be unified if there were children of the marriage, and the crown of Scotland would be given to France if there were not. From a French point of view, because Mary had legitimate claims, they wanted her to be the Queen of England, Scotland and France. Voilà!
Another factor concerning Elizabeth was the desire to further hasten the Reformation in Scotland, which is why the Scottish Lords of the Congregation were trying to get the Catholic French expelled. For Elizabeth, if Scotland were Protestant, that would make it an ally and help protect England. Armed conflict ensued and the English arrived. French troops retreated, and fortified the port and town of Leith against the combined force of English and Scottish Protestants. And so began the Siege of Leith.
After the Treaty was signed, the French and English armies left Scotland and left the Scottish Protestant nobles in charge – properly delighted with themselves. Later, in August, the ‘Reformation Parliament’ of 1560 met and ratified the acts that would establish the Protestant Kirk in Scotland. It prohibited the practise of the Latin Mass in Scotland and denied the authority of the Pope, in effect implementing the Reformation across Scotland. The detestable John Knox was one of the leading figures during the rebellion against Mary of Guise and French Catholic control of Scotland. The signing of the Treaty and the removal of the French enabled him to return from Europe to lead the fight to make Scotland Protestant. Ultimately, he and his Calvinist successors succeeded.
On the 5th of December, 1560, the eighteen years old Mary, Queen of Scots, was widowed and, as Charles IX had no real incentive to support her, she was increasingly isolated in France. The French also had more to do with their own affairs after the outbreak of the Wars of Religion. And so, on the 19th of August, 1561, Mary had little choice but to accept an invitation to return to Protestant Scotland as Queen.
Now, don’t forget, the Treaty of Edinburgh had not been ratified by Mary, Queen of Scots. She was the reigning monarch and it needed her ratification, but as somebody might have said, “Ach weel, it was lackin’ only a signature and hersel’ still a wee bit lassie, just.” Mary was put under considerable pressure to ratify the Treaty, but she had no intention of so doing. She viewed the Lords of the Congregation as rebels and traitors against herself and her mother, Mary of Guise. Another reason for not ratifying the treaty was because it officially declared Elizabeth I Queen of England, effectively ending Mary’s claim to that throne. When all was said and done, Mary had to accept the terms of the Treaty, but she never signed.
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
Johnnie Armstrong of Gilnockie
Border reiver Johnnie Armstrong of Gilnockie, together with a number of his men, was hanged on the orders of King James V, on the 5th of July, 1530.
John (Johnnie; Johnny) Armstrong of Gilnockie was youngest son of the Laird of Mangerton and brother of his successor as Clan Chief. He was probably the most famous (infamous) of all the Scottish Border Reivers. If you’re fond of the Robin Hood or Rob Roy MacGregor style of legend, Armstrong was dreaded on the English side of the Border, but dearly loved by his people. Johnnie wasn’t the chief, but he was the accepted leader, at least in war or battle or reiving. The practice of reiving essentially meant plundering and stealing, particularly cattle, from neighbouring territories less well able to defend themselves. It was not confined to the Scots as the English indulged in their fair share over the centuries and ascension ebbed and flowed between the conflicting sides.
During the 16th Century, Johnnie Armstrong and his Scots followers, based on Gilnockie Tower in the Hollows, near Langholme, held dominance. Armstrong, also known as 'Black Jok', specialised in claiming ‘black rent’ (blackmail) from the folks who inhabited the Debateable Lands of the Borders. This contribution was paid to ensure that the inhabitants would be protected from the raids of the Reivers. Despite not being the Clan Chief, Johnnie appeared to be the undisputed ‘King of the Borders’, although he never personally made such claim. It was said that "....from the Scottis bordour to Newcastell of England, thair was not ane of quhatsoevir estate bot payed [blakmeale] to this John Armestrange ane tribut to be frae of his cumber ....and albeit that he was ane lous leivand man, .....he was als guid ane chieftane as evir was upon the borderis....".
It is also said that Armstrong’s successful and lucrative protection racket was confined to English territory. The ‘Ballad of Johnnie Armstrong’ exists to demonstrate that:
“England suld have found me meal and mault,
Gin I had lived this hundred yeir!
Sche suld have found me meal and mault,
And beif and mutton in all plentie;
But never a Scots wife could have said,
That e’er I skaithed her a pure flee.”
Sir Walter Scott seemed to think that distinction was not likely to have been attributed to him without some well known foundation in fact and that’s good enough for me. However, he certainly offended the neighbouring Lords and Earls who had influence with the young King James V. Maybe it was resentment or jealousy or spite, or the fact that the Armstrongs didn’t pay rent to the Lords of the Border Marches. On the other hand, the English King, Henry VIII, had exerted diplomatic pressure on James V to put an end to the lawlessness that permeated the Borders region. There was a truce of sorts in place between England and Scotland at that time and reiving flouted that peace. In a way, Armstrong was an embarrassment to the Scots King and perhaps, his fate was sealed the moment the King’s party rode out of Edinburgh, in late June 1530.
James V tricked Johnnie Armstrong into meeting him at Carlenrig (Caerlanrig) Chapel, about ten miles above Hawick, on the high road to Langholm. Nigel Tranter, in his novel ‘James by the grace of god’, has it that David Lindsay was sent to deliver the ‘invite’ to an ‘audience with the King’. There are no contemporary accounts of the arrangements, but considering Armstrong’s shrewdness, it is unlikely that he would have deliberately submitted himself and his men to the King's authority unless he had received assurances of safe conduct. Unlike the story in some versions of his ‘Ballad’, there was no fight in which he and his men were captured; they were despicably lured to their deaths.
According to the ‘Ballad’, Armstrong made a great show, dressed in his finery as would have befitted any court and accompanied by an entourage of about twenty-four Lairds and retainers, including Elliots, Littles and Irvines. Perhaps the confusion over the actual numbers hanged with Armstrong, twenty-four, thirty-six or fifty, stems whether or not the retainers were also hanged. Johnnie Armstrong sported a hat from which hung nine gold and silver tassels, and but for the sword of honour and a crown, he could have been King. When asked where he got the tassels, Johnnie replied, “I got them in the field fechtin’ as your Royal faither dared what thou durst nae dae, ilk’ ane frae a diff’rent Knight’s helm”.
When it became clear that his life was to be forfeit, Armstrong, who had begun by declaring himself a subject of James his liege, acted with dignity. He asked his brother, Thomas Armstrong of Mangerton, to remember him to his wife, but even more treachery was in store as the Earl of Angus declared they were all to be hanged. The most famous lines, oft quoted by Sir Walter Scott, were uttered by Armstrong, when the extent of the King’s duplicity was revealed:
“To seik hot water beneath cauld yce
Surely it is a great folie
I haif asked grace at a graceless face,
But there is none for my men and me.”
He is also reputed to have said, “Had I known, Sire, that you would take my life this day, I should have stayed away and kept the Border in spite of King Henry and you, both. For I know that Henry Tudor would be a blithe man this day to know that John Armstrong was condemned to die. Which proves who lacks in judgement, does it not?” Nevertheless, all was in vain as he and his men were led to the trees around Carlenrig and hanged from the back of their mounts.
Legend has it that the trees at Carlenrig, where Armstrong and his followers were hanged, withered and died, and none have grown there since. In 1897, a memorial tablet was installed by a wall at Carlenrig in Teviotdale and the gravesite is now owned and maintained by the Armstrong Clan Trust. Some years ago, a farmer working the field opposite Carlenrig Chapel overturned a large stone. An Archaeologist found a mass grave, which contained a large number of bodies, and it is generally accepted that it was the grave of Armstrong and his men.
John (Johnnie; Johnny) Armstrong of Gilnockie was youngest son of the Laird of Mangerton and brother of his successor as Clan Chief. He was probably the most famous (infamous) of all the Scottish Border Reivers. If you’re fond of the Robin Hood or Rob Roy MacGregor style of legend, Armstrong was dreaded on the English side of the Border, but dearly loved by his people. Johnnie wasn’t the chief, but he was the accepted leader, at least in war or battle or reiving. The practice of reiving essentially meant plundering and stealing, particularly cattle, from neighbouring territories less well able to defend themselves. It was not confined to the Scots as the English indulged in their fair share over the centuries and ascension ebbed and flowed between the conflicting sides.
During the 16th Century, Johnnie Armstrong and his Scots followers, based on Gilnockie Tower in the Hollows, near Langholme, held dominance. Armstrong, also known as 'Black Jok', specialised in claiming ‘black rent’ (blackmail) from the folks who inhabited the Debateable Lands of the Borders. This contribution was paid to ensure that the inhabitants would be protected from the raids of the Reivers. Despite not being the Clan Chief, Johnnie appeared to be the undisputed ‘King of the Borders’, although he never personally made such claim. It was said that "....from the Scottis bordour to Newcastell of England, thair was not ane of quhatsoevir estate bot payed [blakmeale] to this John Armestrange ane tribut to be frae of his cumber ....and albeit that he was ane lous leivand man, .....he was als guid ane chieftane as evir was upon the borderis....".
It is also said that Armstrong’s successful and lucrative protection racket was confined to English territory. The ‘Ballad of Johnnie Armstrong’ exists to demonstrate that:
“England suld have found me meal and mault,
Gin I had lived this hundred yeir!
Sche suld have found me meal and mault,
And beif and mutton in all plentie;
But never a Scots wife could have said,
That e’er I skaithed her a pure flee.”
Sir Walter Scott seemed to think that distinction was not likely to have been attributed to him without some well known foundation in fact and that’s good enough for me. However, he certainly offended the neighbouring Lords and Earls who had influence with the young King James V. Maybe it was resentment or jealousy or spite, or the fact that the Armstrongs didn’t pay rent to the Lords of the Border Marches. On the other hand, the English King, Henry VIII, had exerted diplomatic pressure on James V to put an end to the lawlessness that permeated the Borders region. There was a truce of sorts in place between England and Scotland at that time and reiving flouted that peace. In a way, Armstrong was an embarrassment to the Scots King and perhaps, his fate was sealed the moment the King’s party rode out of Edinburgh, in late June 1530.
James V tricked Johnnie Armstrong into meeting him at Carlenrig (Caerlanrig) Chapel, about ten miles above Hawick, on the high road to Langholm. Nigel Tranter, in his novel ‘James by the grace of god’, has it that David Lindsay was sent to deliver the ‘invite’ to an ‘audience with the King’. There are no contemporary accounts of the arrangements, but considering Armstrong’s shrewdness, it is unlikely that he would have deliberately submitted himself and his men to the King's authority unless he had received assurances of safe conduct. Unlike the story in some versions of his ‘Ballad’, there was no fight in which he and his men were captured; they were despicably lured to their deaths.
According to the ‘Ballad’, Armstrong made a great show, dressed in his finery as would have befitted any court and accompanied by an entourage of about twenty-four Lairds and retainers, including Elliots, Littles and Irvines. Perhaps the confusion over the actual numbers hanged with Armstrong, twenty-four, thirty-six or fifty, stems whether or not the retainers were also hanged. Johnnie Armstrong sported a hat from which hung nine gold and silver tassels, and but for the sword of honour and a crown, he could have been King. When asked where he got the tassels, Johnnie replied, “I got them in the field fechtin’ as your Royal faither dared what thou durst nae dae, ilk’ ane frae a diff’rent Knight’s helm”.
When it became clear that his life was to be forfeit, Armstrong, who had begun by declaring himself a subject of James his liege, acted with dignity. He asked his brother, Thomas Armstrong of Mangerton, to remember him to his wife, but even more treachery was in store as the Earl of Angus declared they were all to be hanged. The most famous lines, oft quoted by Sir Walter Scott, were uttered by Armstrong, when the extent of the King’s duplicity was revealed:
“To seik hot water beneath cauld yce
Surely it is a great folie
I haif asked grace at a graceless face,
But there is none for my men and me.”
He is also reputed to have said, “Had I known, Sire, that you would take my life this day, I should have stayed away and kept the Border in spite of King Henry and you, both. For I know that Henry Tudor would be a blithe man this day to know that John Armstrong was condemned to die. Which proves who lacks in judgement, does it not?” Nevertheless, all was in vain as he and his men were led to the trees around Carlenrig and hanged from the back of their mounts.
Legend has it that the trees at Carlenrig, where Armstrong and his followers were hanged, withered and died, and none have grown there since. In 1897, a memorial tablet was installed by a wall at Carlenrig in Teviotdale and the gravesite is now owned and maintained by the Armstrong Clan Trust. Some years ago, a farmer working the field opposite Carlenrig Chapel overturned a large stone. An Archaeologist found a mass grave, which contained a large number of bodies, and it is generally accepted that it was the grave of Armstrong and his men.
Monday, 4 July 2011
The Glasgow earthquake
An earth tremor shook Glasgow and its surrounding area on the 4th of July, 1570.
You might say that it’d take a fair bit to shuggle the sturdy folks of Glasgow, but the city and its surrounding area have had their share of earthquakes in the past. The first report of an earthquake or earth tremor affecting Glasgow is dated very precisely as occurring at 10 p.m. on the 4th of July, 1570. It is recorded that, “At ten hours at night there was ane quake in the cittie of Glasgow and lastit bot ane schort space, but it causit the inhabitants of the said cittie to be in greit terrour and fear.”
Another tremor was recorded on the 8th of November, 1608, at nine o’clock in the evening. That earthquake was felt in Glasgow and also at St Andrews, Cupar, Edinburgh, Dumbarton and Dundee. The impact on Dumbarton seems to have been particularly severe on that occasion as everyone apparently ran to the church looking “presentlie for destructioun.” All sorts of reasons were given for the event, including blaming a recent extraordinary drought, which had lasted several months immediately preceding the ‘quake’. No doubt there were also a few fists shaken towards the heavens.
Glasgow reported further shocks in the years 1613, 1650, 1656, and 1732, so the 1570 tremor wasn’t an isolated event. There was a significant earthquake reported in Portugal on the 1st of November, 1755, which was coincident with reports from the coast of Holland on the 2nd of November. The resultant tidal wave in the North Sea destroyed the sea walls from Holland to Jutland and over a thousand people are killed. That earthquake had a ‘knock-on’ effect on Scotland as that same morning, in the space of an hour, the water level in Loch Lomond rose by two and a half feet, before receding. Loch Long, Loch Katrine, and Loch Ness were also reported as suffering similar disturbances and the shockwave is said to have been felt at Leadhills in Lanarkshire.
Other tremors affecting Glasgow included one, in 1786, with a peculiar rumbling noise that lasted just three seconds and was felt around Glasgow Cross in the early hours of the morning. And in the Campsie Hills, in January of the following year, some unusual effects of an earth tremor were reported. A burn ran dry in several places, hedges were swept as if by a mysterious wind and horses at the plough were said to have stood stock-still in the shafts through fear. You cannae blame the poor beasts, but maybe it was just auld Tam o’ Shanter skelping by on his mare.
Evidence from seismic and bathymetric surveys along the margin of north-west Europe suggests that there are a number of features conducive to large earthquakes. In the distant past, large earthquakes may have occurred in immediate post-glacial times, in response to rapid isostatic readjustment. However, no earthquake in the UK area in recorded history has exceeded a value of around 5.7 MW on the moment magnitude scale (MMS), which is roughly equivalent to 5.5 on the Richter (ML) scale. It is probable that earthquakes in the UK are in fact passive margin events. That is when a large, distant, offshore earthquake is felt only at moderate strength over landed and populated areas without any significant observable damage. The largest historical passive margin event seems to have been recorded in 1508.
The MMS is used by seismologists to measure the size of earthquakes in terms of the energy released. The magnitude is based on the moment of the earthquake, which is equal to the rigidity of the Earth multiplied by the average amount of slip on the fault and the size of the area that slipped. The scale was developed in the 1970s to succeed the 1930s-era Richter magnitude scale and is now the scale used to estimate magnitudes for all modern large earthquakes.
The event of 1508 was felt in the Borders region and in the North Sea at Rockall. There are no contemporary accounts of the earthquake and the earliest source is that of the Scottish historian John Leslie, Bishop of Ross. Leslie’s account of the earthquake survives in three forms, all of them brief. In his ‘History of Scotland’, a work composed during imprisonment in England and presented to Queen Mary, in 1571, it is stated, “In September, ane gret erd quak wes, the xix day thairof in divers placeis, and for the maist part in the kirkis, quhilk wes asueill [as well] in Ingland as in Scotland.”
In 1578, Leslie revised and expanded his ‘History’ and translated it into Latin. That was published in Rome under the title ‘De origine’, in which there is a passage that reads, “... ingens erat terrae, non solum in Scotia, verum etiam tota Anglia, motus, quo templa in primis contremuerunt, quod quidam religionis euertendae augurium interpretabantur”. That may be translated as, “there was a great earthquake, not only in Scotland, but also, indeed, even the whole of England, which shook the churches especially, which was interpreted as an omen of the overthrowing of religion.”
The City of Glasgow can boast “a lang pedigree” as in the year 560, fifty-seven years before the Anglo-Saxon King Edwin set Edinburgh Castle on its rocky site, St. Kentigern had founded his cathedral seat at “Cathures, which is now called Glasgu.” Shortly afterwards, around 573, ‘Rederchen the Liberal’ was seated on the throne as the first monarch of the Britons of Cumbria or Strathclyde, thanks in no small part to the exertions of St. Kentigern, otherwise known as St. Mungo.
Tradition also survives connecting Glasgow with a settlement of Druids in the dim and distant past, many years before St. Mungo was even born. There were tales of sacrifices being offered on the hill where the Necropolis now stands and the Drygait is said to have been the Druids’ Gate. In the ancient Saxon tongue the word ‘Dry’ has the meaning of ‘priest’ or ‘holy man’, which translates as ‘Druidh’ in Celtic. Much later, an old Roman road from Carluke is supposed to have entered Glasgow by Bellshill, Tollcross, East Duke Street and the Drygait, crossing the Molendinar Burn, and continuing by Dobbies’ Loan.
You might say that it’d take a fair bit to shuggle the sturdy folks of Glasgow, but the city and its surrounding area have had their share of earthquakes in the past. The first report of an earthquake or earth tremor affecting Glasgow is dated very precisely as occurring at 10 p.m. on the 4th of July, 1570. It is recorded that, “At ten hours at night there was ane quake in the cittie of Glasgow and lastit bot ane schort space, but it causit the inhabitants of the said cittie to be in greit terrour and fear.”
Another tremor was recorded on the 8th of November, 1608, at nine o’clock in the evening. That earthquake was felt in Glasgow and also at St Andrews, Cupar, Edinburgh, Dumbarton and Dundee. The impact on Dumbarton seems to have been particularly severe on that occasion as everyone apparently ran to the church looking “presentlie for destructioun.” All sorts of reasons were given for the event, including blaming a recent extraordinary drought, which had lasted several months immediately preceding the ‘quake’. No doubt there were also a few fists shaken towards the heavens.
Glasgow reported further shocks in the years 1613, 1650, 1656, and 1732, so the 1570 tremor wasn’t an isolated event. There was a significant earthquake reported in Portugal on the 1st of November, 1755, which was coincident with reports from the coast of Holland on the 2nd of November. The resultant tidal wave in the North Sea destroyed the sea walls from Holland to Jutland and over a thousand people are killed. That earthquake had a ‘knock-on’ effect on Scotland as that same morning, in the space of an hour, the water level in Loch Lomond rose by two and a half feet, before receding. Loch Long, Loch Katrine, and Loch Ness were also reported as suffering similar disturbances and the shockwave is said to have been felt at Leadhills in Lanarkshire.
Other tremors affecting Glasgow included one, in 1786, with a peculiar rumbling noise that lasted just three seconds and was felt around Glasgow Cross in the early hours of the morning. And in the Campsie Hills, in January of the following year, some unusual effects of an earth tremor were reported. A burn ran dry in several places, hedges were swept as if by a mysterious wind and horses at the plough were said to have stood stock-still in the shafts through fear. You cannae blame the poor beasts, but maybe it was just auld Tam o’ Shanter skelping by on his mare.
Evidence from seismic and bathymetric surveys along the margin of north-west Europe suggests that there are a number of features conducive to large earthquakes. In the distant past, large earthquakes may have occurred in immediate post-glacial times, in response to rapid isostatic readjustment. However, no earthquake in the UK area in recorded history has exceeded a value of around 5.7 MW on the moment magnitude scale (MMS), which is roughly equivalent to 5.5 on the Richter (ML) scale. It is probable that earthquakes in the UK are in fact passive margin events. That is when a large, distant, offshore earthquake is felt only at moderate strength over landed and populated areas without any significant observable damage. The largest historical passive margin event seems to have been recorded in 1508.
The MMS is used by seismologists to measure the size of earthquakes in terms of the energy released. The magnitude is based on the moment of the earthquake, which is equal to the rigidity of the Earth multiplied by the average amount of slip on the fault and the size of the area that slipped. The scale was developed in the 1970s to succeed the 1930s-era Richter magnitude scale and is now the scale used to estimate magnitudes for all modern large earthquakes.
The event of 1508 was felt in the Borders region and in the North Sea at Rockall. There are no contemporary accounts of the earthquake and the earliest source is that of the Scottish historian John Leslie, Bishop of Ross. Leslie’s account of the earthquake survives in three forms, all of them brief. In his ‘History of Scotland’, a work composed during imprisonment in England and presented to Queen Mary, in 1571, it is stated, “In September, ane gret erd quak wes, the xix day thairof in divers placeis, and for the maist part in the kirkis, quhilk wes asueill [as well] in Ingland as in Scotland.”
In 1578, Leslie revised and expanded his ‘History’ and translated it into Latin. That was published in Rome under the title ‘De origine’, in which there is a passage that reads, “... ingens erat terrae, non solum in Scotia, verum etiam tota Anglia, motus, quo templa in primis contremuerunt, quod quidam religionis euertendae augurium interpretabantur”. That may be translated as, “there was a great earthquake, not only in Scotland, but also, indeed, even the whole of England, which shook the churches especially, which was interpreted as an omen of the overthrowing of religion.”
The City of Glasgow can boast “a lang pedigree” as in the year 560, fifty-seven years before the Anglo-Saxon King Edwin set Edinburgh Castle on its rocky site, St. Kentigern had founded his cathedral seat at “Cathures, which is now called Glasgu.” Shortly afterwards, around 573, ‘Rederchen the Liberal’ was seated on the throne as the first monarch of the Britons of Cumbria or Strathclyde, thanks in no small part to the exertions of St. Kentigern, otherwise known as St. Mungo.
Tradition also survives connecting Glasgow with a settlement of Druids in the dim and distant past, many years before St. Mungo was even born. There were tales of sacrifices being offered on the hill where the Necropolis now stands and the Drygait is said to have been the Druids’ Gate. In the ancient Saxon tongue the word ‘Dry’ has the meaning of ‘priest’ or ‘holy man’, which translates as ‘Druidh’ in Celtic. Much later, an old Roman road from Carluke is supposed to have entered Glasgow by Bellshill, Tollcross, East Duke Street and the Drygait, crossing the Molendinar Burn, and continuing by Dobbies’ Loan.
Sunday, 3 July 2011
Robert Adam
Robert Adam, neoclassical architect, furniture and interior designer, was born on the 3rd of July, 1728.
The 18th Century was a great period in British Architecture, but nowhere was this more apparent than in Scotland, where the Act of Union allowed for greater prosperity and led to new buildings in both private and public sectors. The most important British Architects of this age were Scots and the foremost of those was Robert Adam. He is regarded as the leading exponent of the neoclassical revival, the Classical Georgian style, in the latter part of the 18th Century and is equally well-regarded for the interior designs of his buildings as he is for the exteriors. This remarkable Scotsman had a guiding influence on Georgian art, but the influence of this great British architectural genius also extended internationally. The Old Quad of the University of Edinburgh is a good example of his work in Scotland as is the mock medieval Culzean Castle, which perches above a raised beach on the south-west Scottish coast. Together with William Chambers, another Scots architect, Adam became ‘Architect of the King’s Works’ to King George III.
Robert Adam was born on the 3rd of July, 1728, in Kirkcaldy, in the Kingdom of Fife. Either that same year or when he was eleven, depending on which biography you read, his family moved to Edinburgh, where he attended Edinburgh High School. Robert went to Edinburgh University in 1743, but he never managed to graduate, because of illness and ‘The ’45’, the Jacobite Rebellion (or Rising), which interrupted many a life. In 1746, the same year as Rising petered out after Culloden, Robert joined his brother John as an apprentice architect to his father, William Adam. Robert’s father, who was King’s Mason and had also designed the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, died in 1748 and after that, Robert and John became partners in the Adams’ family business. Their first major commission started, in 1750, at Hopetoun House, west of Edinburgh. His mother’s name wasn’t Morticia, by the way.
In 1754, Robert left on an extensive ‘Grand Tour’ of France and Italy. This wasn’t a foppish indulgence, such as a lot of gentry entertained; it was a practical exercise. Adam devoted his time, four years of it, to studying classical Roman ruins and learned drafting and drawing skills. He returned extremely well versed in classical and Italian Renaissance architecture and immediately moved to London. He set himself up as a practicing architect and within a few short years, five at the most, he had become ‘the’ fashionable architect to Britain’s wealthy aristocracy. Two of his three brothers, James and William, joined him as architects in this London-based Adams family practice.
The ‘Palladian’ movement as the big deal at that time, which began with a surge of interest in classical architecture and was named after the Renaissance architect, Andrea Palladio. He had tried to recreate the style and proportions of the buildings of ancient Rome and Robert Adam built upon this momentum, taking it much further. However, drawing on studies from his travels, Adam soon evolved a style of his own, which can best be described as ‘neo-classical’, according to folks that should know. Oor Adam was something of a rebel against the Palladians, who insisted on following strict Roman lines and proportion. Whereas the Palladians copied the Romans, Robert Adam experimented and innovated. He borrowed from the Greeks, and from Byzantine and Italian Baroque styles. The results were spectacular and produced a body of work that approached genius.
Adam was a success in part because he insisted on designing everything himself, down to the tiniest interior detail, which meant that his work had an overall unity or continuity of style. The Adams Brothers firm was responsible for Admiralty Arch at Whitehall and the Adelphi scheme, built in Westminster between 1768 and 1772, and based on a Thames-side terrace with a parallel row closer to the Strand, and with a ladder of side streets in between. Unfortunately, it that was largely demolished in the 1930s, however, a few streets do remain, including Robert Street. The Royal Society of Arts, on John Adam Street, with its elegant frontage, and the south and east sides of Fitzroy Square were also designed by Robert Adam and his brothers.
Quite a lot of Adam’s work was on large country houses, usually alterations, which meant focusing on the inside more so than the outside. It is partly for that reason that he is as well known today for his opulent and elegant interiors as he is for his buildings. A wonderful example of that is Osterley Park in Hounslow and there is also Kenwood House on Hampstead Heath, which houses the Iveagh Collection of paintings. Among the artists employed by Adam to decorate his interiors were the painter Angelica Kauffman, the sculptor John Flaxman, and the Italian painters Antonio Zucchi, whose work can be seen at Osterley and Kenwood, and Giovanni Cipriani, who ‘did’ Syon House.
Of course, another reason Robert Adam is well known to many people is because of his fireplaces. Drop into any DIY store in the UK and you will find replicas of the ubiquitous Adam fireplace. You can also find rather expensive reproductions in trendy establishments. Yes, indeed, it is truly an enduring symbol, an iconic image, that began as the solution to a problem faced by the Adam Brothers renovating the great country houses of Georgian Britain.
Basically, the carvers of ornamental marble chimneypieces couldn’t keep up with demand, because of the time needed to make each one. They couldn’t be mass produced and were also expensive. So Adam developed an ingenious method of casting timber fittings from copper or boxwood moulds. The timber was a composite made to the Adams’ secret formula, which produced a resilient product that could take all manner of treatments, including the familiar, waxed raw timber finish. Not only did Adam solve the production problem, he introduced an international style that folks copy to this very day.
Robert Adam died at his home at 11 Albermarle Street, in London, on the 3rd of March, 1792, and he was buried at Westminster Abbey.
Saturday, 2 July 2011
The Battle of Alford
The Battle of Alford took place on the 2nd of July, 1645.
When Civil War broke out in England in 1643, the Scots and English signed ‘The Solemn League and Covenant’. That was a very different document to another famous Scottish ‘Covenant’, the National Covenant of Scotland. It was the price the English Puritans had to pay for the Scottish army to join forces and fight for the Parliamentarians against the King. The price was the adoption of Presbyterianism; a cheap concession for the likes of the puritanical English Parliament. The Marquess (Marquis) of Montrose, who had been a Covenanter and led a Scottish Army into England in the Second Bishop’s War, saw this as a disgraceful and contemptible piece of double-dealing. For him, it was the final straw.
Montrose had become aware that the National Covenant was being used by the likes of Archibald Campbell, the Earl of Argyll, to usurp the King’s power in Scotland, for his own ends. Montrose saw this and other extremist Presbyterian activities as an absolute abuse of the Covenant. After drawing up the Cumbernauld Bond, he was arrested on charges of conspiracy against the ruling Committee of Estates and imprisoned in Edinburgh Castle. He was released on bail in November, 1641, and joined King Charles I at Oxford, in 1643.
Montrose’s loyalty to the King and the Royalist cause was passionate and unwavering throughout the rest of his career, despite retaining purist Covenanting sympathies. In response to the involvement of the Scottish Covenanters in the English Civil War and the Royalist’s defeat at Marston Moor in July, 1644, Charles I appointed the Marquis of Montrose as his military commander in Scotland. Montrose raised the royal standard on the 28th of August, 1644, and with little more than two thousand troops, fought a stirring campaign in the Highlands.
The Covenanters learned that what Montrose’s militia lacked in numbers was more than compensated for by its commitment to the cause and the astute tactics of its commander. Montrose’s army, which comprised Irishmen under Alasdair MacColla and various Highlanders that had rallied to the Stuart cause, led a bandit-like existence. Heavily outnumbered, Montrose effectively exploited the terrain to outmanoeuvre his enemy. His guerilla campaign rampaged through the Highlands, spreading fear and loathing throughout Covenanter strongholds in the north-east. Montrose won a spectacular series of victories at Tippermuir, Aberdeen, Fyvie, Inverlochy, and a major action at Auldearn.
However, there were still significant Government forces opposing Montrose, under the experienced commander, General Baillie. He played a game of cat and mouse with Montrose in the weeks after Auldearn, traipsing across Moray and Aberdeenshire. Finally, at the end of June, finding Montrose’s army as depleted as his own, Baillie considered he could face the Royalists in open battle. Baillie’s actions were heavily constrained by the presence of members of the Committee of Estates. These muppets represented the ruling body of the Covenant and constantly interfered with his decisions. Not only did they interfere in tactical matters, they transferred one thousand of his best troops to Lindsay’s army, compromising Baillie’s ability to deal with Montrose.
On the 1st of July, Montrose crossed the river Don and camped at Asloun, in preparation for the coming battle. He chose very strong ground on which to fight and, on the morning of the 2nd of July, Montrose deployed his army on the hillside in a classical formation, with massed ranks of infantry flanked on either side by cavalry. He waited for Baillie to cross the River Don by the Boat of Forbes, near Alford. Initially, Baillie did not want to risk crossing the river, believing his troops would be vulnerable to an attack as they forded. However, the ‘Committee’, urged on by Balcarres, his impetuous cavalry commander, persuaded him that Montrose looked like he was retreating. That was an illusion as part of Montrose’s force was concealed by the summit.
Baillie crossed the river and was allowed to oppose Montrose in kind, with two cavalry wings and his infantry in the centre, before Montrose’s right wing of cavalry, under Lord Gordon, opened the engagement. The Covenanter horse on the left was forced off the field, whilst ultimately the cavalry on Baillie’s right fared no better. The Irish and Highland infantry were then introduced, and together with Montrose’s cavalry having returned to the fray, forced Baillie’s infantry back to the river.
The ill trained Covenanter levies and reservists that Baillie was left with were no match for the famed Highland charge commanded by Colonel O’Kean. Montrose also had more depth in attack as Baillie’s front line was only three deep, compared to Montrose’s six ranks, albeit in a charge they would have strung out somewhat. That was Baillie’s tactic to avoid being ‘overwinged’, but with his cavalry on either flank being driven off, the infantry were left exposed. Montrose’s horse was able to hit the infantry in the rear and it was soon routed. The Covenanters suffered heavy casualties as the Royalist horse pursued them in what became a bloody execution. While the main action probably lasted no more than an hour or so, the pursuit and slaughter of the defeated Covenanters continued into the early evening. However, victory was not won without cost as Montrose lost the very able Lord Gordon in the cavalry attack on the infantry.
The Covenanter’s Army took the field with around eighteen hundred to two thousand infantry and about six to eight hundred cavalry. Montrose had about an equal number of foot and slightly less horsemen, probably in the region of two hundred and fifty to three hundred, although some reports suggest he had as many as five hundred. This may be correct as he was reinforced by Lord Gordon’s men before the battle. The Battle of Alford was a bloody affair in which hundreds of Royalists perished and up to fifteen hundred Covenanters died in the fighting. The only relic that has since been discovered on the field was a broadsword, which is now in the Marischal Museum, in Aberdeen.
When Civil War broke out in England in 1643, the Scots and English signed ‘The Solemn League and Covenant’. That was a very different document to another famous Scottish ‘Covenant’, the National Covenant of Scotland. It was the price the English Puritans had to pay for the Scottish army to join forces and fight for the Parliamentarians against the King. The price was the adoption of Presbyterianism; a cheap concession for the likes of the puritanical English Parliament. The Marquess (Marquis) of Montrose, who had been a Covenanter and led a Scottish Army into England in the Second Bishop’s War, saw this as a disgraceful and contemptible piece of double-dealing. For him, it was the final straw.
Montrose had become aware that the National Covenant was being used by the likes of Archibald Campbell, the Earl of Argyll, to usurp the King’s power in Scotland, for his own ends. Montrose saw this and other extremist Presbyterian activities as an absolute abuse of the Covenant. After drawing up the Cumbernauld Bond, he was arrested on charges of conspiracy against the ruling Committee of Estates and imprisoned in Edinburgh Castle. He was released on bail in November, 1641, and joined King Charles I at Oxford, in 1643.
Montrose’s loyalty to the King and the Royalist cause was passionate and unwavering throughout the rest of his career, despite retaining purist Covenanting sympathies. In response to the involvement of the Scottish Covenanters in the English Civil War and the Royalist’s defeat at Marston Moor in July, 1644, Charles I appointed the Marquis of Montrose as his military commander in Scotland. Montrose raised the royal standard on the 28th of August, 1644, and with little more than two thousand troops, fought a stirring campaign in the Highlands.
The Covenanters learned that what Montrose’s militia lacked in numbers was more than compensated for by its commitment to the cause and the astute tactics of its commander. Montrose’s army, which comprised Irishmen under Alasdair MacColla and various Highlanders that had rallied to the Stuart cause, led a bandit-like existence. Heavily outnumbered, Montrose effectively exploited the terrain to outmanoeuvre his enemy. His guerilla campaign rampaged through the Highlands, spreading fear and loathing throughout Covenanter strongholds in the north-east. Montrose won a spectacular series of victories at Tippermuir, Aberdeen, Fyvie, Inverlochy, and a major action at Auldearn.
However, there were still significant Government forces opposing Montrose, under the experienced commander, General Baillie. He played a game of cat and mouse with Montrose in the weeks after Auldearn, traipsing across Moray and Aberdeenshire. Finally, at the end of June, finding Montrose’s army as depleted as his own, Baillie considered he could face the Royalists in open battle. Baillie’s actions were heavily constrained by the presence of members of the Committee of Estates. These muppets represented the ruling body of the Covenant and constantly interfered with his decisions. Not only did they interfere in tactical matters, they transferred one thousand of his best troops to Lindsay’s army, compromising Baillie’s ability to deal with Montrose.
On the 1st of July, Montrose crossed the river Don and camped at Asloun, in preparation for the coming battle. He chose very strong ground on which to fight and, on the morning of the 2nd of July, Montrose deployed his army on the hillside in a classical formation, with massed ranks of infantry flanked on either side by cavalry. He waited for Baillie to cross the River Don by the Boat of Forbes, near Alford. Initially, Baillie did not want to risk crossing the river, believing his troops would be vulnerable to an attack as they forded. However, the ‘Committee’, urged on by Balcarres, his impetuous cavalry commander, persuaded him that Montrose looked like he was retreating. That was an illusion as part of Montrose’s force was concealed by the summit.
Baillie crossed the river and was allowed to oppose Montrose in kind, with two cavalry wings and his infantry in the centre, before Montrose’s right wing of cavalry, under Lord Gordon, opened the engagement. The Covenanter horse on the left was forced off the field, whilst ultimately the cavalry on Baillie’s right fared no better. The Irish and Highland infantry were then introduced, and together with Montrose’s cavalry having returned to the fray, forced Baillie’s infantry back to the river.
The ill trained Covenanter levies and reservists that Baillie was left with were no match for the famed Highland charge commanded by Colonel O’Kean. Montrose also had more depth in attack as Baillie’s front line was only three deep, compared to Montrose’s six ranks, albeit in a charge they would have strung out somewhat. That was Baillie’s tactic to avoid being ‘overwinged’, but with his cavalry on either flank being driven off, the infantry were left exposed. Montrose’s horse was able to hit the infantry in the rear and it was soon routed. The Covenanters suffered heavy casualties as the Royalist horse pursued them in what became a bloody execution. While the main action probably lasted no more than an hour or so, the pursuit and slaughter of the defeated Covenanters continued into the early evening. However, victory was not won without cost as Montrose lost the very able Lord Gordon in the cavalry attack on the infantry.
The Covenanter’s Army took the field with around eighteen hundred to two thousand infantry and about six to eight hundred cavalry. Montrose had about an equal number of foot and slightly less horsemen, probably in the region of two hundred and fifty to three hundred, although some reports suggest he had as many as five hundred. This may be correct as he was reinforced by Lord Gordon’s men before the battle. The Battle of Alford was a bloody affair in which hundreds of Royalists perished and up to fifteen hundred Covenanters died in the fighting. The only relic that has since been discovered on the field was a broadsword, which is now in the Marischal Museum, in Aberdeen.
Friday, 1 July 2011
Admiral Lord Viscount Duncan of Camperdown
Admiral Lord Viscount Duncan of Camperdown, naval war hero, was born on the 1st of July, 1731.
In a naval career spanning fifty-four years, Admiral Duncan achieved his greatest fame through the crushing defeat of the Dutch fleet off Camperdown. Whilst Commander-in-Chief of the British Navy in the North Sea, Duncan sprang the Dutch offside trap and led his fleet of ships to victory, thwarting an invasion by the French and Dutch. In such a manner, the Battle of Camperdown was akin to the Battle of Britain in terms of its significance and Admiral Duncan became a national hero. A grateful nation awarded him the titles of Baron of Lundie and Viscount Camperdown, in addition to the extraordinary sum of £3000 per year as a pension. At 6'4" Duncan was known as 'the handsomest man in the Navy' and his victory led to stylish women wearing Camperdown hats, and dandies sporting Camperdown vests. In the words of Admiral Lord Nelson, to whom he was a mentor, “the name of Duncan will never be forgot by Britain and in particular by its Navy.” Nelson, in fact, kept a miniature of Duncan in his cabin while at sea. I wonder what Hardy thought of that? Incidentally, the miniature is now part of a permanent exhibition dedicated to Duncan at the National War Museum in Edinburgh.
Adam Duncan was born on the 1st of July, 1731, in Lundie, in what is now Angus. Some biographies state that he was born at Bluebell House in Dundee’s Seagait. Whatever the accuracy of that minor detail, he was certainly born into a prominent family as both his father and grandfather were Provosts of Dundee and Adam did indeed spend most of his time at the family’s Seagait town house, from where he attended Dundee Grammar School. Incidentally, his elder brother Alexander Duncan became a Lieutenant-Colonel in the Army and Adam inherited the family estate, because Alexander died without issue.
When Adam was nearing fifteen, in early 1746, he left home to join the Navy. He went aboard H.M.S. ‘Trial’ as midshipman under the patronage of his cousin, Captain Robert Haldane. The ship was involved in the hunt for Prince Charles Edward Stuart, who was in hiding on the Western Isles of Scotland after his defeat at Culloden. The ‘Trial’ captured the French ship that had been sent to pick up the Prince, but Bonnie Prince Charlie managed to evade capture – for which generations of shortbread lovers are grateful.
Duncan’s early naval career continued against the French during 1748, when he patrolled the English Channel and the Bay of Biscay causing grief to some French privateers. The following year, Duncan joined H.M.S. ‘Centurion’ as Midshipman, under Admiral Keppel. He sailed to the Mediterranean with the objective of securing the release of British hostages and cargoes in Algiers. That took until 1752 and afterwards, he was placed on half pay for two years. He returned to active service as Acting Lieutenant on H.M.S. ‘Norwich’ and by the following January, he was confirmed in the rank and back aboard the ‘Centurion’ with Keppel, in North American waters.
In 1756, at the outbreak of the ‘Seven Years War’, Duncan was Second Lieutenant under Keppel once again, on board H.M.S. ‘Torbay’. For the remainder of that year, they caused yet more grief to French shipping and Duncan showed his courage leading several boarding parties. He was made First Lieutenant in November, 1758, and his rise through the ranks saw him promoted to Commander in September, 1759. In February, 1761, he was made Captain and given command of H.M.S. ‘Valiant’. Two years later, after seeing service in Belle-Isle and Havana, he was semi-detached from the Navy – for fifteen years.
He returned in 1778 and, in January, 1780, he took part in the ‘moonlight’ battle off Cape St Vincent, when the Spanish fleet was defeated. He wasn’t needed again until 1782, when Admiral Keppel became First Lord of the Admiralty. This time his ship was H.M.S. ‘Blenheim’ and he was instrumental in the relief of Gibraltar in October, 1782. He was promoted to Rear-Admiral in September, 1787, Vice Admiral in February, 1793, and Admiral in June, 1795. By this time the Dutch were getting restless and he was made Commander-in-Chief on board H.M.S. ‘Venerable’. He spent the next two years blockading the Dutch coast.
Admiral Duncan earned widespread respect and praise for his part in the naval mutinies of 1797, but nevertheless, most of his fleet refused to leave Yarmouth. By his influence and strength of character, balanced with a degree of sympathy for the average matelot’s plight, Duncan was able to keep his own crew and that of H.M.S. ‘Adamant’ from joining the mutiny. Duncan then managed to convince the Dutch that the two British ships they could see were two of twenty still in the vicinity. Neither the Dutch nor the French tumbled the ruse, but in early October, the patience of the Dutch government ran out and its fleet was ordered to set sail.
Duncan’s fleet sped out from Yarmouth in response and, on the 11th of October, 1797, met the Dutch fleet, commanded by Admiral de Winter, opposite ‘Kamperduin’. Duncan played a masterful stroke at the onset of the battle, which led to a complete rout of the Dutch. At first, as was customary, each ship manoeuvred to take on its opposite number. Then Duncan suddenly ordered his fleet to fall out and for each ship to tackle an enemy ship of its choosing. Instead of getting drawn into shallow water, Duncan's fleet forced its way in behind the Dutch and prevented them returning to safe anchorage at the Texel.
Two and a half hours later the battle was won and all the Dutch ships either sunk or captured. All sixteen ships of the line in the British Squadron survived. In keeping with his chivalrous spirit, Admiral Duncan refused to accept Admiral de Winter's sword at the time of the Dutch surrender and shook his hand instead. Duncan’s controversial tactics were a forerunner of those used by his protégé, Nelson, at Trafalgar. However, but for Camperdown and St. Vincent, eight months earlier, there would have been no Nile or Trafalgar, nor even a Waterloo. Camperdown was regarded as the most important naval action in history up to that point and it’s fair to say, Duncan had saved the nation from a Napoleonic invasion.
Duncan died suddenly on the 4th of August, 1804, in an inn at Cornhill on the Scottish border, while on his way back to Edinburgh. He was buried at the Kirk in Lundie, where the bell of the ‘Vrijheids’ was installed. Part of his estate is now Camperdown Park in Dundee. A 12-foot bronze statue of Admiral Duncan, by Janet Scrymgeour Wedderburn, was commissioned for the Bicentenary Celebrations of the Battle of Camperdown and now stands in Castlehill, High Street, Dundee.
In a naval career spanning fifty-four years, Admiral Duncan achieved his greatest fame through the crushing defeat of the Dutch fleet off Camperdown. Whilst Commander-in-Chief of the British Navy in the North Sea, Duncan sprang the Dutch offside trap and led his fleet of ships to victory, thwarting an invasion by the French and Dutch. In such a manner, the Battle of Camperdown was akin to the Battle of Britain in terms of its significance and Admiral Duncan became a national hero. A grateful nation awarded him the titles of Baron of Lundie and Viscount Camperdown, in addition to the extraordinary sum of £3000 per year as a pension. At 6'4" Duncan was known as 'the handsomest man in the Navy' and his victory led to stylish women wearing Camperdown hats, and dandies sporting Camperdown vests. In the words of Admiral Lord Nelson, to whom he was a mentor, “the name of Duncan will never be forgot by Britain and in particular by its Navy.” Nelson, in fact, kept a miniature of Duncan in his cabin while at sea. I wonder what Hardy thought of that? Incidentally, the miniature is now part of a permanent exhibition dedicated to Duncan at the National War Museum in Edinburgh.
Adam Duncan was born on the 1st of July, 1731, in Lundie, in what is now Angus. Some biographies state that he was born at Bluebell House in Dundee’s Seagait. Whatever the accuracy of that minor detail, he was certainly born into a prominent family as both his father and grandfather were Provosts of Dundee and Adam did indeed spend most of his time at the family’s Seagait town house, from where he attended Dundee Grammar School. Incidentally, his elder brother Alexander Duncan became a Lieutenant-Colonel in the Army and Adam inherited the family estate, because Alexander died without issue.
When Adam was nearing fifteen, in early 1746, he left home to join the Navy. He went aboard H.M.S. ‘Trial’ as midshipman under the patronage of his cousin, Captain Robert Haldane. The ship was involved in the hunt for Prince Charles Edward Stuart, who was in hiding on the Western Isles of Scotland after his defeat at Culloden. The ‘Trial’ captured the French ship that had been sent to pick up the Prince, but Bonnie Prince Charlie managed to evade capture – for which generations of shortbread lovers are grateful.
Duncan’s early naval career continued against the French during 1748, when he patrolled the English Channel and the Bay of Biscay causing grief to some French privateers. The following year, Duncan joined H.M.S. ‘Centurion’ as Midshipman, under Admiral Keppel. He sailed to the Mediterranean with the objective of securing the release of British hostages and cargoes in Algiers. That took until 1752 and afterwards, he was placed on half pay for two years. He returned to active service as Acting Lieutenant on H.M.S. ‘Norwich’ and by the following January, he was confirmed in the rank and back aboard the ‘Centurion’ with Keppel, in North American waters.
In 1756, at the outbreak of the ‘Seven Years War’, Duncan was Second Lieutenant under Keppel once again, on board H.M.S. ‘Torbay’. For the remainder of that year, they caused yet more grief to French shipping and Duncan showed his courage leading several boarding parties. He was made First Lieutenant in November, 1758, and his rise through the ranks saw him promoted to Commander in September, 1759. In February, 1761, he was made Captain and given command of H.M.S. ‘Valiant’. Two years later, after seeing service in Belle-Isle and Havana, he was semi-detached from the Navy – for fifteen years.
He returned in 1778 and, in January, 1780, he took part in the ‘moonlight’ battle off Cape St Vincent, when the Spanish fleet was defeated. He wasn’t needed again until 1782, when Admiral Keppel became First Lord of the Admiralty. This time his ship was H.M.S. ‘Blenheim’ and he was instrumental in the relief of Gibraltar in October, 1782. He was promoted to Rear-Admiral in September, 1787, Vice Admiral in February, 1793, and Admiral in June, 1795. By this time the Dutch were getting restless and he was made Commander-in-Chief on board H.M.S. ‘Venerable’. He spent the next two years blockading the Dutch coast.
Admiral Duncan earned widespread respect and praise for his part in the naval mutinies of 1797, but nevertheless, most of his fleet refused to leave Yarmouth. By his influence and strength of character, balanced with a degree of sympathy for the average matelot’s plight, Duncan was able to keep his own crew and that of H.M.S. ‘Adamant’ from joining the mutiny. Duncan then managed to convince the Dutch that the two British ships they could see were two of twenty still in the vicinity. Neither the Dutch nor the French tumbled the ruse, but in early October, the patience of the Dutch government ran out and its fleet was ordered to set sail.
Duncan’s fleet sped out from Yarmouth in response and, on the 11th of October, 1797, met the Dutch fleet, commanded by Admiral de Winter, opposite ‘Kamperduin’. Duncan played a masterful stroke at the onset of the battle, which led to a complete rout of the Dutch. At first, as was customary, each ship manoeuvred to take on its opposite number. Then Duncan suddenly ordered his fleet to fall out and for each ship to tackle an enemy ship of its choosing. Instead of getting drawn into shallow water, Duncan's fleet forced its way in behind the Dutch and prevented them returning to safe anchorage at the Texel.
Two and a half hours later the battle was won and all the Dutch ships either sunk or captured. All sixteen ships of the line in the British Squadron survived. In keeping with his chivalrous spirit, Admiral Duncan refused to accept Admiral de Winter's sword at the time of the Dutch surrender and shook his hand instead. Duncan’s controversial tactics were a forerunner of those used by his protégé, Nelson, at Trafalgar. However, but for Camperdown and St. Vincent, eight months earlier, there would have been no Nile or Trafalgar, nor even a Waterloo. Camperdown was regarded as the most important naval action in history up to that point and it’s fair to say, Duncan had saved the nation from a Napoleonic invasion.
Duncan died suddenly on the 4th of August, 1804, in an inn at Cornhill on the Scottish border, while on his way back to Edinburgh. He was buried at the Kirk in Lundie, where the bell of the ‘Vrijheids’ was installed. Part of his estate is now Camperdown Park in Dundee. A 12-foot bronze statue of Admiral Duncan, by Janet Scrymgeour Wedderburn, was commissioned for the Bicentenary Celebrations of the Battle of Camperdown and now stands in Castlehill, High Street, Dundee.
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