The Battle of Falkirk Muir took place on the 17th of January, 1746.
The Battle of the South Muir of Falkirk was the second battle to take place near Falkirk and, from an essentially Scottish point of view, it was a case of having lost one; win one. The Scots under Wallace famously lost the first match at Falkirk in 1298, but in 1746, under Lord George Murray, the result was reversed and a modicum of revenge gained. In truth, the war of 1745-6 was more of a civil war than a Scotland vs. England affair, with its primary purpose being to restore the Catholic succession of the Old Pretender (James VIII he hoped, in vain). Falkirk Moor is remembered more for being the Jacobite’s final victory than a redressing of the balance after the Wallace débâcle.
A problem that presented itself to the Jacobite army of Bonnie Prince Charlie after it returned from its excursion to Derby – a short story of there and back again, which achieved precisely nothing – was that Government forces were closing in around Stirling and Edinburgh. By mid-January, 1746, Government forces were well entrenched in Edinburgh and the Navy were blockading the ports, notionally preventing the resupply or reinforcement of Charlie’s army by his French allies. Notionally that is, primarily because the idea of tangible support from the intransigent French was a bit of a myth.
The cockaded Jacobite army had marched out of Glasgow “in a handsome manner” on the 3rdof January. Six Highland battalions, under Murray, marched off in the direction of Falkirk, to make it appear as if they were heading towards Lieutenant-General Hawley’s Hanoverian army in Edinburgh. Instead, Murray’s column turned north for Bannockburn. Meanwhile, the ‘Young Pretender’ had arrived at Bannockburn, where he had set up his headquarters. In reality, the Jacobites were destined for a rendezvous at Perth, but they decided to tarry at Stirling, not because it was a strategic fortress that had to be reduced, but because Charlie couldn’t bear to see it remain in enemy control. Instead of French reinforcements, a number of cannon had been shipped to Glasgow and these were used to besiege Stirling Castle. What a waste of time that was.
Following the earlier defeat at Prestonpans, which took place before the Jacobite Army embarked on its futile march down and back up through in England, General 'Hey Johnny' Cope had been replaced as Commander in Chief of the Royal forces in Scotland, by Henry Hawley. Hawley led his Hanoverian army out of Edinburgh to relieve Blakeney, under threat at Stirling. A protégé of the Duke of Cumberland, Hawley as far as Falkirk. According to Horace Walpole, Hawley was illiterate and, from the evidence, he was also a brutal disciplinarian, with the nickname of ‘Hangman’ Hawley – a great name for the disciple of the 'Butcher'. Hawley also proved to have been incompetent, which must've cheered up wee Johnny Cope, who is reputed to have ₤10,000 in a bet, because Hawley, his successor , was beaten by the same Highlanders that had unceremoniously woken him up at Prestonpans.
Unlike Prestonpans, where untested government troops had broken in the face of the Highland charge, Hawley had well trained troops at his disposal. However, his handling of that army, mostly veteran regiments of foot from the Flanders war, was grossly inept. The arrogant Hawley had also formed the view, from his experience at Sheriffmuir in 'The 15', that the Highlanders would not stand against cavalry. He thought “these Rascalls“ of Highlanders weren't worth worrying about.
Those 'Hielant Rascalls' numbered approximately 8000 men. Around half were the combined Clans of MacPherson, Mackintosh, MacKenzie and the MacDonalds, plus the Appin Stewarts. The remainder of Murray's army were Lowland infantry militia, led by the Duke of Atholl and my Lords Gordon and Ogilvy, plus a few hundred horse led by Lord Elcho. The Jacobites marched out to do battle on the 15th of January and were then drawn up on Plean Muir, two miles south-east of Bannockburn. Eager to do battle, they waited in vain for an attack. They did the same on the next day, but again Hawley did not come. Murray then suggested that they took the initiative and occupy the rough upland of the South Muir of Falkirk. To deceive Hawley, Murray also proposed that Charlie's standard be left flying on Plean Muir and that a diversionary force under Drummond be sent up to Falkirk.
About noon on the 17th, Murray had drawn up his army on a ridge west of Falkirk, blocking Hawley‘s route to Stirling. However, confusion reigned on both sides. Murray and John O‘Sullivan, an Irish mercenary with the ear of the Prince, argued over the positioning of the troops. This led to Lord Drummond not being in place to command the Jacobite right at the start of the battle as Murray wished. Hawley, reminiscent of Cope, was taken by surprise at the presence of the Jacobites and struggled to get his 9000-strong army formed up in proper battle order. Hawley's army was made up of 6500 regular infantry, 700 dragoons, the mounted infantry, plus the Glasgow Militia and 2000 men of Clan Campbell. He also had artillery, but these became stuck in the mud, caused by heavy rain and took no part in the battle.
As the light faded in the worsening weather, Hawley ordered Colonel Ligonier to take three regiments of Dragoons against the Jacobite right wing. Without Drummond in command, the MacDonalds and Farquharsons fired an eager musket volley and this had a devastating affect on the Dragoons. As one observer noted, “in one part of them nearest us I saw daylight through them in several places”. The remains of both Ligonier‘s and Hamilton’s decimated regiments promptly fled. Cobham's regiment charged into the Highlanders, but were no match for the Scots, whereupon they too scarpered, to be pursued by the Clansmen.
The fleeing Dragoons rode straight through the waiting Hanoverian infantry regiments, causing more confusion and preventing effective fire on the pursuing Highlanders. Their rain sodden gunpowder didn't help either as one in four muskets failed. The MacDonalds were upon them with cold steel before they knew what had hit them and as the rest of the Clans joined in, the Government forces, with the Glaswegians in tow, turned tail and ran. Cluny MacPherson led a charge from the Jacobite left towards the Hanoverian right wing to complete the rout.
The Hanoverians lost around 350 men killed, wounded and missing in a battle that had lasted a mere twenty minutes. Some 300 were captured. The Jacobites lost less than 50 dead and had 70 wounded. The wretched Hawley fled, unharmed, to Linlithgow, where he penned his excuses to Cumberland in a letter that began, “Sir, my heart is broke...” The site of the battle is marked by an obelisk, which was unveiled by the Duke of Atholl in 1927.
Tuesday, 17 January 2012
Sunday, 8 January 2012
Edgar, King of Scots
Edgar, King of Scots, died on the 8th of January, 1107.
The story of Edgar, King of Scots, is really the story of the beginning of the end if you're of the view that Scotland's heritage revolves solely around its Picto-Scottish, Gaelic/Celtic period – the Alba of the Ravens. Of course, that's a very myopic viewpoint and there's surely no question that today, Scotland benefits from its broader heritage, encompassing a mixture of ancient Picts, Scots, Britons, Celts, Gaels, Angles, Saxons, Danes, Vikings (and Egyptians and Iberians if you want to add a myth or two – or take Neanderthal migration into account). However, as the then eldest surviving son of Malcolm III (Máel Coluim mac Donnchada, otherwise known as Malcolm Canmore) and his Queen, Margaret of Wessex, Etgair mac Mael Cholium was the first King of Scots to have both Celtic and Anglo-Saxon blood coursing through his veins, his rule spelled the end of a 'pure' Scots line.
Edgar's mother was a Princess of England, albeit she'd been born in exile in Hungary, who was also a granddaughter of England's 'Ironside', Edmund II, sister to the Anglo-Saxon Edgar (the) Ætheling, and became, famously, St. Margaret of Scotland. Margaret's father was Edward the Exile, so called after his banishment, following the conquest of England by the Danish King, Cnut the Great (Canute of the Waves), in 1016. Furthermore, the sainted Margaret's mother, Agatha, was a relative of the German Emperor. In such a manner, Edgar, King of Scots, named after an English bit-part King, was a composite of Picto-Scottish Gael and Anglo-Saxon, with a Teutonic tint and a pinch of Hungarian paprika thrown in for seasoning. Edgar was also the first of the 'Margaretsons', the first of three, to become King of Scots.
Born around 1074, Edgar's history really begins with his own exile and banishment, to England, once again following a battle and conquest. In late 1093, after evading capture at the Battle of Alnwick, in which his father and elder brother, Edward, had been killed, Edgar and his siblings were sent – or brought – to England. Queen Margaret wasn't able to go to England as she had died of a broken heart, nine days after Alnwick. When Edgar first appeared before his mother after the battle, she asked him, “How fares it with the King and my Edward?” and, on Edgar's eloquent silence, she is said to have exclaimed, “I know all!” Those that did go with Edgar were his younger brothers, Alexander and David, both of whom became Kings of Scots in their turn, and his sisters, Edith (who later married Henry I of England) and Mary (who married Eustace III of Boulogne). Edgar's two surviving older brothers, Ethelred who became Abbot of Dunkeld, and Edmund, remained in Scotland.
Edgar's émigré status was seemingly as a hostage for the good behaviour of the Scots, who were ruled by his uncle, as Donald III, or his half-brother, as Duncan II, after the death of their father. However, his journey to England may have been as a refugee from his uncle, Donald (Domnall mac Donnchada), known as Domnall Bán (Donald the Fair) or Donalbane. Edgar's status as a refugee is credible as there was a goodly deal of internecine strife abroad in Scotland following the demise of the Canmore. Malcolm III seems to have designated his eldest 'Margaretson', Edward, as his heir, but Malcolm's brother, Donald, had a better right to the throne according to ancient customs. So it was that, at least according to John of Fordun, Donald, “at the head of a numerous band,” laid siege to Edinburgh and caused Margaret's brother, the Ætheling, to remove her, and his nephews and nieces, to England.
Donald III ruled from November, 1093, to May, 1094, and from November, 1094, to sometime in 1097, when Edgar became King. The interruption came in May of 1094, when Donald's nephew, Duncan, aided by Edgar's older brother, Edmund, invaded with an army made up of Anglo-Normans and Northumbrians, under his father-in-law, the Gospatric Earl of Northumbria. The 'englishified' Duncan, a son of Malcolm Canmore by his first wife, Ingibiorg, the widow of Thorfinn Sigurdsson (Thorfinn the Mighty), the Norwegian Earl of Orkney, gained the throne for a wee while, but his short lived and unwelcome rule was brought to an end when he was “killed in action” on the 12th of November, 1094, at the Battle of Monthechin. As Donald then promptly appointed Edmund as his heir, there might be some truth in the claim, made in the Annals of Ulster, that Duncan was instead 'assassinated' on the orders of his uncle and a turncoat Edmund.
Unlike Alexander and David, Edgar didn't spend his formative years in England as he was twenty when he rode south to a brief exile. He was also mature enough to be not unduly influenced by the ways of the Anglo-Norman court in which he found himself. Nevertheless, he gained some empathy and support from the Norman, William Rufus, son of the Conqueror. In 1095, with Donald and Edmund engaged in supporting the latter's father-in-law, the Gospatrick, Robert de Mowbray's rebellion against Rufus, Edgar managed to gain control of Lothian. However, it wasn't until 1097 that Edgar invaded Scotland, accompanied by the Ætheling and an English army. Donald and Edmund were defeated and Edgar became King, four years after he had first claimed the throne on the death of his half-brother, Duncan II.
Although there is some contradiction between his derogatory nickname, 'the Peaceable', and the alternative 'Valiant', neither could be applied to Edgar in relation to how he dealt with his uncle and half-brother thereafter. The Annals of Tigernach indicate that Edgar had Donald's eyes put out and that is backed up by Fordun, who wrote that Donald was “blinded, and doomed to eternal imprisonment [by Edgar]”. Blinded or not, Donald was imprisoned at Rescobis (Rescobie), in Forfar, where he died, in 1099. It's less clear what happened to Edmund, but it seems he was banished, with his sight intact, to a monastery.
An incident, which is said to have given rise to Edgar's nickname of 'the Peaceable', occurred in 1098, when he signed the first formal treaty made by a Scots King, in ceding to Magnus Barelegs, King of Norway, the Western Isles and the peninsula of Kintyre. Magnus was a marauder and, having conquered the Orkneys, the Hebrides and the Isle of Man, he was able to persuade Edgar that a treaty, which incidentally, survived until the Battle of Largs, in 1263, was a better option than fighting to retain the Hebrides. Legend has it that Magnus made his agreement with Edgar on the basis that he would settle for all the islands of the west coast he could pass in a vessel with her rudder shipped. To that end, Magnus had a skiff “drawn over the strand at Cantire [Kintyre],” whilst “[he] sat in the stern-sheets, and held the tiller.” Longships were often drawn over the small neck of land between the mainland, and Magnus' adroit manoeuvre neatly severed the Isles and Kintyre from Edgar's newly won Scotland.
Edgar died in Edinburgh Castle on the 8th of January, 1107. The King of Scots with the Saxon name was buried at Dunfermline in the Holy Trinity Minster founded by his parents. Incidentally, Eadgar apparently means 'happy spear' in Old English and the first recording of its use in Scotland is thought to have been by Edgar, King of Scots.
The story of Edgar, King of Scots, is really the story of the beginning of the end if you're of the view that Scotland's heritage revolves solely around its Picto-Scottish, Gaelic/Celtic period – the Alba of the Ravens. Of course, that's a very myopic viewpoint and there's surely no question that today, Scotland benefits from its broader heritage, encompassing a mixture of ancient Picts, Scots, Britons, Celts, Gaels, Angles, Saxons, Danes, Vikings (and Egyptians and Iberians if you want to add a myth or two – or take Neanderthal migration into account). However, as the then eldest surviving son of Malcolm III (Máel Coluim mac Donnchada, otherwise known as Malcolm Canmore) and his Queen, Margaret of Wessex, Etgair mac Mael Cholium was the first King of Scots to have both Celtic and Anglo-Saxon blood coursing through his veins, his rule spelled the end of a 'pure' Scots line.
Edgar's mother was a Princess of England, albeit she'd been born in exile in Hungary, who was also a granddaughter of England's 'Ironside', Edmund II, sister to the Anglo-Saxon Edgar (the) Ætheling, and became, famously, St. Margaret of Scotland. Margaret's father was Edward the Exile, so called after his banishment, following the conquest of England by the Danish King, Cnut the Great (Canute of the Waves), in 1016. Furthermore, the sainted Margaret's mother, Agatha, was a relative of the German Emperor. In such a manner, Edgar, King of Scots, named after an English bit-part King, was a composite of Picto-Scottish Gael and Anglo-Saxon, with a Teutonic tint and a pinch of Hungarian paprika thrown in for seasoning. Edgar was also the first of the 'Margaretsons', the first of three, to become King of Scots.
Born around 1074, Edgar's history really begins with his own exile and banishment, to England, once again following a battle and conquest. In late 1093, after evading capture at the Battle of Alnwick, in which his father and elder brother, Edward, had been killed, Edgar and his siblings were sent – or brought – to England. Queen Margaret wasn't able to go to England as she had died of a broken heart, nine days after Alnwick. When Edgar first appeared before his mother after the battle, she asked him, “How fares it with the King and my Edward?” and, on Edgar's eloquent silence, she is said to have exclaimed, “I know all!” Those that did go with Edgar were his younger brothers, Alexander and David, both of whom became Kings of Scots in their turn, and his sisters, Edith (who later married Henry I of England) and Mary (who married Eustace III of Boulogne). Edgar's two surviving older brothers, Ethelred who became Abbot of Dunkeld, and Edmund, remained in Scotland.
Edgar's émigré status was seemingly as a hostage for the good behaviour of the Scots, who were ruled by his uncle, as Donald III, or his half-brother, as Duncan II, after the death of their father. However, his journey to England may have been as a refugee from his uncle, Donald (Domnall mac Donnchada), known as Domnall Bán (Donald the Fair) or Donalbane. Edgar's status as a refugee is credible as there was a goodly deal of internecine strife abroad in Scotland following the demise of the Canmore. Malcolm III seems to have designated his eldest 'Margaretson', Edward, as his heir, but Malcolm's brother, Donald, had a better right to the throne according to ancient customs. So it was that, at least according to John of Fordun, Donald, “at the head of a numerous band,” laid siege to Edinburgh and caused Margaret's brother, the Ætheling, to remove her, and his nephews and nieces, to England.
Donald III ruled from November, 1093, to May, 1094, and from November, 1094, to sometime in 1097, when Edgar became King. The interruption came in May of 1094, when Donald's nephew, Duncan, aided by Edgar's older brother, Edmund, invaded with an army made up of Anglo-Normans and Northumbrians, under his father-in-law, the Gospatric Earl of Northumbria. The 'englishified' Duncan, a son of Malcolm Canmore by his first wife, Ingibiorg, the widow of Thorfinn Sigurdsson (Thorfinn the Mighty), the Norwegian Earl of Orkney, gained the throne for a wee while, but his short lived and unwelcome rule was brought to an end when he was “killed in action” on the 12th of November, 1094, at the Battle of Monthechin. As Donald then promptly appointed Edmund as his heir, there might be some truth in the claim, made in the Annals of Ulster, that Duncan was instead 'assassinated' on the orders of his uncle and a turncoat Edmund.
Unlike Alexander and David, Edgar didn't spend his formative years in England as he was twenty when he rode south to a brief exile. He was also mature enough to be not unduly influenced by the ways of the Anglo-Norman court in which he found himself. Nevertheless, he gained some empathy and support from the Norman, William Rufus, son of the Conqueror. In 1095, with Donald and Edmund engaged in supporting the latter's father-in-law, the Gospatrick, Robert de Mowbray's rebellion against Rufus, Edgar managed to gain control of Lothian. However, it wasn't until 1097 that Edgar invaded Scotland, accompanied by the Ætheling and an English army. Donald and Edmund were defeated and Edgar became King, four years after he had first claimed the throne on the death of his half-brother, Duncan II.
Although there is some contradiction between his derogatory nickname, 'the Peaceable', and the alternative 'Valiant', neither could be applied to Edgar in relation to how he dealt with his uncle and half-brother thereafter. The Annals of Tigernach indicate that Edgar had Donald's eyes put out and that is backed up by Fordun, who wrote that Donald was “blinded, and doomed to eternal imprisonment [by Edgar]”. Blinded or not, Donald was imprisoned at Rescobis (Rescobie), in Forfar, where he died, in 1099. It's less clear what happened to Edmund, but it seems he was banished, with his sight intact, to a monastery.
An incident, which is said to have given rise to Edgar's nickname of 'the Peaceable', occurred in 1098, when he signed the first formal treaty made by a Scots King, in ceding to Magnus Barelegs, King of Norway, the Western Isles and the peninsula of Kintyre. Magnus was a marauder and, having conquered the Orkneys, the Hebrides and the Isle of Man, he was able to persuade Edgar that a treaty, which incidentally, survived until the Battle of Largs, in 1263, was a better option than fighting to retain the Hebrides. Legend has it that Magnus made his agreement with Edgar on the basis that he would settle for all the islands of the west coast he could pass in a vessel with her rudder shipped. To that end, Magnus had a skiff “drawn over the strand at Cantire [Kintyre],” whilst “[he] sat in the stern-sheets, and held the tiller.” Longships were often drawn over the small neck of land between the mainland, and Magnus' adroit manoeuvre neatly severed the Isles and Kintyre from Edgar's newly won Scotland.
Edgar died in Edinburgh Castle on the 8th of January, 1107. The King of Scots with the Saxon name was buried at Dunfermline in the Holy Trinity Minster founded by his parents. Incidentally, Eadgar apparently means 'happy spear' in Old English and the first recording of its use in Scotland is thought to have been by Edgar, King of Scots.
Saturday, 17 December 2011
New Year's Day in Scotland
By an act of his Privy Council on the 17th of December, 1599, James VI of Scotland decided that New Year's Day would henceforth fall on the 1st of January.
Most folks, if asked, will say that New Year's Day falls on the 1st of January each year. It was not always so, either in the United Kingdom in general or in Scotland, in particular. Come to think of it, it still isn't so in many parts of the world. New Year's Day is generally accepted as being the day that marks the beginning of a new calendar year and also the day on which the year count is incremented, but neither was that always so and still isn't so in the Jewish calendar. The 1st of January is certainly the first day of the year on the modern Gregorian calendar and it was also the first day of the year on the ancient Julian calendar as used in Rome. Despite that apparent synchronisation, January the 1st on the Julian calendar currently corresponds to January the 14th on the Gregorian calendar.
In terms of other cultures, the Hijri or Islamic New Year begins on the first day of Muharram, the first month in the Islamic calendar. In 2011, it fell on the Gregorian 26th of November. However, the Islamic year is 11 to 12 days shorter than the Gregorian year, so there's also a perennially shifting differential between the two calendars. The Hindu New Year falls according to the time and date the Sun enters Aries on the Hindu calendar, which normally means the 13th of 14th of April, depending on the Leap year. The Jewish New Year is celebrated on Rosh Hashanah, which takes place between sunset on the evening before the first day of Tishrei and nightfall on the second day of Tishrei. Strange to say, Tishrei is the seventh, rather than the first, month of the Hebrew calendar. In terms of the Gregorian calendar, Rosh Hashanah will fall between September the 5th and October the 5th. The Chinese, on the other hand, celebrate New Year's Day as the first day of the lunar calendar, corrected every three years, for solar deviations. The date normally falls between the 20th of January and the 20th of February.
Until 1599 in Scotland, the New Year began on the 25th of March, which was in line with England. However, on the 17th of December, 1599, King James VI, via an act of his Privy Council, decided that Scotland should come into line with other “well governit commonwealths.” As a result of Jamie Saxt looking over his shoulder at the likes of 'well governed' France, the date for New Year's Day was changed from the 25th of March and imposed as the 1st of January. So the day after the 31st of December, 1599, became the 1st of January, 1600. Insular England didn't make the 1st of January the official start of the year until 1752, the year it adopted the Gregorian calendar and way after James VI became James I of England, and six years after yon Bonnie Twat, Charlie Stuart, failed to make his Pa, James VIII & III.
According to the 'Register of the Privy Council', “The Kingis majestie and Lordis of his Secreit Counsall undirstanding that in all utheris weill governit commouns welthis and cuntreyis the first day of the yeir begynis yeirlie upoun the first day of Januare, commounlie callit new yeiris day, and that this realme onlie is different fra all utheris in the compt and reckning of the yeiris ...his Majestie with the advise of the Lordis of his Secreit Counsall statutis and ordanis that in all tyme cuming the first day of the yeir sal begin yeirlie upoun the first day of Januare...”
Jamie's Privy Council was a powerful legislative and administrative body, which was very useful to him. The King had much more influence over the Privy Council than he ever did over the more independently minded Scottish Parliament. The Privy Council act of the 17th December, 1599, went on to command royal officials, clerks, judges, notaries, &c., “in all tyme heireftir” to date all “thair decreittis infeftmentis charteris seasings letteris and writtis quhatsumeuir according to this p[rese]nt ordinance.” They had a shortage of commas in those days.
The reason for January the 1st on the old style Julian calendar currently corresponding to January the 14th on the new style Gregorian calendar is that the latter is marginally shorter. The number of days in the year is the essence of a calendar year and the Gregorian calendar results in a year that is about 11 minutes shorter than the 365.25 days of the Julian year. So, if you have two calendars, one calculating the length of the year according to ancient Roman practice and one, more accurately, according to the solar equinoxes, then you get a discrepancy. In fact, the Julian calendar falls further behind every year as the deviation increases by about three days every four centuries.
New Year's Day in the Julian calendar was the 25th of March i.e., the 24th of March, 1598, was followed by the 25th of March, 1599. So, New Year's Day was the day on which the year count was incremented, but it didn't mark the beginning of the calendar year; that still being the 1st of January. So, back at the tail end of 1599, or on the 1st of January, 1600, as it was, Scotland began a new year, but it was a new year according to the Julian calendar. That meant that the 31st of December, 1600, occurred 365 days later (with 1599, the previous year, having had only nine months).
It wasn't until 1752, the same year England caught up with the New Year's Day celebrations, that Scotland adopted the Gregorian. Jamie Saxt's notions about what the French might think weren't fully developed in 1582, when the majority of European countries adopted the Gregorian and the 1st of January date for New Year's Day. Earlier, in England, Henry VIII was having nothing to do with anything named after a Pope, so he stuck to Julius Caesar's calendar, introduced in 45 BC, and so did his successors, from Edward VI all the way through to George II. The Gregorian calendar was introduced by a bull of Pope Gregory XIII; dated the 24th of February, 1582.
It took Jamie's pride and joy, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, nearly two hundred years to deal with the combined change. The Gregorian was adopted in the United Kingdom under what is known as 'Chesterfield's Act' or the 'Calendar Act of 1752', which revised the way that leap years were calculated and dropped the necessary 11 days in order to synchronise with the newly adopted, solar-based Gregorian calendar year. Wednesday, the 2nd of September, 1752, was followed by Thursday, the 14th of September, 1752. Scotland lost zero days in 1600 after changing the date of New Year's Day, but it lost the same 11 days as England, Wales and Ireland in 1752, when the Gregorian was adopted. If they'd changed back in 1582, they'd have lost only 10 days.
Incidentally, the reason the UK tax year starts on the 6th of April is that, back in 1752, the authorities didn't want to lose 11 days' tax revenue in that year, so they moved the start of the tax year forward from the 25th of March and it's been that way ever since.
Most folks, if asked, will say that New Year's Day falls on the 1st of January each year. It was not always so, either in the United Kingdom in general or in Scotland, in particular. Come to think of it, it still isn't so in many parts of the world. New Year's Day is generally accepted as being the day that marks the beginning of a new calendar year and also the day on which the year count is incremented, but neither was that always so and still isn't so in the Jewish calendar. The 1st of January is certainly the first day of the year on the modern Gregorian calendar and it was also the first day of the year on the ancient Julian calendar as used in Rome. Despite that apparent synchronisation, January the 1st on the Julian calendar currently corresponds to January the 14th on the Gregorian calendar.
In terms of other cultures, the Hijri or Islamic New Year begins on the first day of Muharram, the first month in the Islamic calendar. In 2011, it fell on the Gregorian 26th of November. However, the Islamic year is 11 to 12 days shorter than the Gregorian year, so there's also a perennially shifting differential between the two calendars. The Hindu New Year falls according to the time and date the Sun enters Aries on the Hindu calendar, which normally means the 13th of 14th of April, depending on the Leap year. The Jewish New Year is celebrated on Rosh Hashanah, which takes place between sunset on the evening before the first day of Tishrei and nightfall on the second day of Tishrei. Strange to say, Tishrei is the seventh, rather than the first, month of the Hebrew calendar. In terms of the Gregorian calendar, Rosh Hashanah will fall between September the 5th and October the 5th. The Chinese, on the other hand, celebrate New Year's Day as the first day of the lunar calendar, corrected every three years, for solar deviations. The date normally falls between the 20th of January and the 20th of February.
Until 1599 in Scotland, the New Year began on the 25th of March, which was in line with England. However, on the 17th of December, 1599, King James VI, via an act of his Privy Council, decided that Scotland should come into line with other “well governit commonwealths.” As a result of Jamie Saxt looking over his shoulder at the likes of 'well governed' France, the date for New Year's Day was changed from the 25th of March and imposed as the 1st of January. So the day after the 31st of December, 1599, became the 1st of January, 1600. Insular England didn't make the 1st of January the official start of the year until 1752, the year it adopted the Gregorian calendar and way after James VI became James I of England, and six years after yon Bonnie Twat, Charlie Stuart, failed to make his Pa, James VIII & III.
According to the 'Register of the Privy Council', “The Kingis majestie and Lordis of his Secreit Counsall undirstanding that in all utheris weill governit commouns welthis and cuntreyis the first day of the yeir begynis yeirlie upoun the first day of Januare, commounlie callit new yeiris day, and that this realme onlie is different fra all utheris in the compt and reckning of the yeiris ...his Majestie with the advise of the Lordis of his Secreit Counsall statutis and ordanis that in all tyme cuming the first day of the yeir sal begin yeirlie upoun the first day of Januare...”
Jamie's Privy Council was a powerful legislative and administrative body, which was very useful to him. The King had much more influence over the Privy Council than he ever did over the more independently minded Scottish Parliament. The Privy Council act of the 17th December, 1599, went on to command royal officials, clerks, judges, notaries, &c., “in all tyme heireftir” to date all “thair decreittis infeftmentis charteris seasings letteris and writtis quhatsumeuir according to this p[rese]nt ordinance.” They had a shortage of commas in those days.
The reason for January the 1st on the old style Julian calendar currently corresponding to January the 14th on the new style Gregorian calendar is that the latter is marginally shorter. The number of days in the year is the essence of a calendar year and the Gregorian calendar results in a year that is about 11 minutes shorter than the 365.25 days of the Julian year. So, if you have two calendars, one calculating the length of the year according to ancient Roman practice and one, more accurately, according to the solar equinoxes, then you get a discrepancy. In fact, the Julian calendar falls further behind every year as the deviation increases by about three days every four centuries.
New Year's Day in the Julian calendar was the 25th of March i.e., the 24th of March, 1598, was followed by the 25th of March, 1599. So, New Year's Day was the day on which the year count was incremented, but it didn't mark the beginning of the calendar year; that still being the 1st of January. So, back at the tail end of 1599, or on the 1st of January, 1600, as it was, Scotland began a new year, but it was a new year according to the Julian calendar. That meant that the 31st of December, 1600, occurred 365 days later (with 1599, the previous year, having had only nine months).
It wasn't until 1752, the same year England caught up with the New Year's Day celebrations, that Scotland adopted the Gregorian. Jamie Saxt's notions about what the French might think weren't fully developed in 1582, when the majority of European countries adopted the Gregorian and the 1st of January date for New Year's Day. Earlier, in England, Henry VIII was having nothing to do with anything named after a Pope, so he stuck to Julius Caesar's calendar, introduced in 45 BC, and so did his successors, from Edward VI all the way through to George II. The Gregorian calendar was introduced by a bull of Pope Gregory XIII; dated the 24th of February, 1582.
It took Jamie's pride and joy, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, nearly two hundred years to deal with the combined change. The Gregorian was adopted in the United Kingdom under what is known as 'Chesterfield's Act' or the 'Calendar Act of 1752', which revised the way that leap years were calculated and dropped the necessary 11 days in order to synchronise with the newly adopted, solar-based Gregorian calendar year. Wednesday, the 2nd of September, 1752, was followed by Thursday, the 14th of September, 1752. Scotland lost zero days in 1600 after changing the date of New Year's Day, but it lost the same 11 days as England, Wales and Ireland in 1752, when the Gregorian was adopted. If they'd changed back in 1582, they'd have lost only 10 days.
Incidentally, the reason the UK tax year starts on the 6th of April is that, back in 1752, the authorities didn't want to lose 11 days' tax revenue in that year, so they moved the start of the tax year forward from the 25th of March and it's been that way ever since.
Sunday, 11 December 2011
The Scottish Friends of the People
The first National Convention of the Scottish Friends of the People, formed to demand parliamentary reform, met in Edinburgh on the 11th of December, 1792.
The most famous of the 18th Century 'Friends of the People' in Scotland was Thomas Muir of Huntershill who has since been eulogised in a terrific 20th Century folk song by Dick Gaughan of Leith. Puir Thomas Muir was arrested for sedition, tried, sentenced and transported to Australia, all for his involvement in being too much of a ‘Friend’ to the ‘wrong’ kind of people. That he was right is borne out by history and by the fact that today we can all vote – at least in civilised, democratic societies around the world. As Gaughan wrote in his lyrics,
“When you’re called for jury service,
When your name is drawn by lot
When you vote in an election
When you freely voice your thought
Don’t take these things for granted,
For dearly were they bought.”
Thomas Muir was a “champion of democracy” and a key player in the organisation of the first National Convention of the Scottish Friends of the People. The ‘Friends of the People’ or, to give its full title, 'The Society of the Friends of the People, Associated for the Purpose of Obtaining a Parliamentary Reform' was an 18th Century, political activist group, formed in London, in 1792, by Whig MPs and Lords. Although short lived, many of its members were heavily influenced by the French Revolution of 1789, the writings of Thomas Paine, and resultant Irish republican ideals.
Against that global backdrop, the 'Friends' was formed at a time when only the landed gentry had a vote in Parliament. The 'Society' sought to redress that skewed political imbalance, which depended on the aristocracy and patronage, to gain electoral enfranchisement for all, throughout the land. Patronage extended to being able to buy seats, which were consequently controlled by the wealthy, but the system was even more rotten than that. Whigs and Tories alike, tended to vote in favour of their mutual interests. In addition, many major cities, which had become flourishing centres of manufacturing, following the incipient industrial revolution, had no representation in Parliament.
Throughout 1792, 'Friends' branches were organised in many communities, the length and breadth of Great Britain. The 'Friends' in Scotland were a cosmopolitan bunch, drawn from all aspects of society. They consisted of lawyers, such as Muir, artisans and guilds-men – the likes of butchers; bakers; candlestick makers; clergymen; cobblers; farmers; tailors; tanners; and weavers. However, generally speaking, it didn't include agricultural labourers and other manual trades, such as colliers and masons, nor even spinners.
The most influential of the 'Friends' were of the Whig tendency, more open to liberal concepts of fairness than any Tory in those days. The objective of the 'Friends' was never a revolution after the manner of the French. The 'Society' didn't wish to overthrow the monarchical regime, such as was occurring in France, nor rebel after the manner of the American Colonies; it merely wanted political enfranchisement. That was in contrast to the many secret societies, like the United Irishmen and the United Scotsmen organisations, that grew up after the demise of the 'Friends'.
The 'Friends' in Scotland peaceably demonstrated their sympathies by planting Liberty Trees at market crosses. However, in June, 1792, thousands of protesters took to the streets in Edinburgh, in what became known as the King’s Birthday Riots. The mob spent three days rioting, during which it burned effigies of the much disliked Home Secretary, Robert Dundas, and tried to burn down the Lord Advocate's house. A lot of the propaganda leading to those riots was written by James Tytler, whom Muir defended on a charge of sedition, a case that led to Muir himself being so charged.
It was disturbances of that nature that caused the Government concern, believing as it did that revolution was a real possibility. Consequently, as a result of the seemingly popular support for radical reform, the Government began to restrict freedom of speech and made it a crime, for example, to distribute copies Paine's 'The Rights of Man'. Throughout the riots, however, the 'Friends' officially condemned the disturbances and threatened to expel anyone joining the rioters.
By November, 1792, there were eighty-seven branches of the 'Friends' in Britain. Some southern societies were similar in composition to those in Scotland, particularly the 'London Correspondence Club' formed as early as January, 1792. In Scotland, there were many 'Friends' branches, such as the 'Associated Friends of the Constitution of the People' (Glasgow), the 'Sons of Liberty and Friends of Man' (Partick), the 'Perth Society for Parliamentary Reform', and the 'Friends of the People Society of Edinburgh'. In July, 1792, Muir and farmer, William Skirving, established the 'Scottish Association of the Friends of the People', bringing the branches under one umbrella organisation.
The first national general convention of the 'Friends' in Scotland was held on the 11th of December, 1792; its effective leader being Thomas Muir. A total of 160 delegates, including some government spies, from thirty-five branches of the 'Friends' in Scotland, met in Edinburgh. The convention was well attended by some prominent Advocates and the nobility was represented by Lord Daer. Also in attendance were the MP for Inverness, Colonel Macleod, and Lieutenant Colonel William Dalrymple of Fordell.
Two more general or national conventions were held by the 'Friends', the second of those, in October, 1793, being open to delegates from English branches and societies. That third convention, called 'British', wasn't attended by the Lords and lawyers, and was publicly renounced by Macleod. It was broken up by the authorities and more men were arrested and tried for sedition by a panicky Government. They were sentenced to transportation, along with Muir and Dundee's Thomas Fyshe Palmer.
That sort of persecution spelled the end for the 'Friends' societies. Hopes of peace with France gave way to the Napoleonic Wars and an ever more frightened Government continued its unprecedented increase in crackdowns on freedom of speech and persecution of radicals. In Tranent, in 1797, the army crushed an anti-conscription protest, indiscriminately killing eleven miners and wounding twelve others. The 'Friends of the People' was wound down and reform was left to the Whigs in Parliament. It wasn’t until the working class rebellions of 1819-20 that organised radicalism reappeared.
The most famous of the 18th Century 'Friends of the People' in Scotland was Thomas Muir of Huntershill who has since been eulogised in a terrific 20th Century folk song by Dick Gaughan of Leith. Puir Thomas Muir was arrested for sedition, tried, sentenced and transported to Australia, all for his involvement in being too much of a ‘Friend’ to the ‘wrong’ kind of people. That he was right is borne out by history and by the fact that today we can all vote – at least in civilised, democratic societies around the world. As Gaughan wrote in his lyrics,
“When you’re called for jury service,
When your name is drawn by lot
When you vote in an election
When you freely voice your thought
Don’t take these things for granted,
For dearly were they bought.”
Thomas Muir was a “champion of democracy” and a key player in the organisation of the first National Convention of the Scottish Friends of the People. The ‘Friends of the People’ or, to give its full title, 'The Society of the Friends of the People, Associated for the Purpose of Obtaining a Parliamentary Reform' was an 18th Century, political activist group, formed in London, in 1792, by Whig MPs and Lords. Although short lived, many of its members were heavily influenced by the French Revolution of 1789, the writings of Thomas Paine, and resultant Irish republican ideals.
Against that global backdrop, the 'Friends' was formed at a time when only the landed gentry had a vote in Parliament. The 'Society' sought to redress that skewed political imbalance, which depended on the aristocracy and patronage, to gain electoral enfranchisement for all, throughout the land. Patronage extended to being able to buy seats, which were consequently controlled by the wealthy, but the system was even more rotten than that. Whigs and Tories alike, tended to vote in favour of their mutual interests. In addition, many major cities, which had become flourishing centres of manufacturing, following the incipient industrial revolution, had no representation in Parliament.
Throughout 1792, 'Friends' branches were organised in many communities, the length and breadth of Great Britain. The 'Friends' in Scotland were a cosmopolitan bunch, drawn from all aspects of society. They consisted of lawyers, such as Muir, artisans and guilds-men – the likes of butchers; bakers; candlestick makers; clergymen; cobblers; farmers; tailors; tanners; and weavers. However, generally speaking, it didn't include agricultural labourers and other manual trades, such as colliers and masons, nor even spinners.
The most influential of the 'Friends' were of the Whig tendency, more open to liberal concepts of fairness than any Tory in those days. The objective of the 'Friends' was never a revolution after the manner of the French. The 'Society' didn't wish to overthrow the monarchical regime, such as was occurring in France, nor rebel after the manner of the American Colonies; it merely wanted political enfranchisement. That was in contrast to the many secret societies, like the United Irishmen and the United Scotsmen organisations, that grew up after the demise of the 'Friends'.
The 'Friends' in Scotland peaceably demonstrated their sympathies by planting Liberty Trees at market crosses. However, in June, 1792, thousands of protesters took to the streets in Edinburgh, in what became known as the King’s Birthday Riots. The mob spent three days rioting, during which it burned effigies of the much disliked Home Secretary, Robert Dundas, and tried to burn down the Lord Advocate's house. A lot of the propaganda leading to those riots was written by James Tytler, whom Muir defended on a charge of sedition, a case that led to Muir himself being so charged.
It was disturbances of that nature that caused the Government concern, believing as it did that revolution was a real possibility. Consequently, as a result of the seemingly popular support for radical reform, the Government began to restrict freedom of speech and made it a crime, for example, to distribute copies Paine's 'The Rights of Man'. Throughout the riots, however, the 'Friends' officially condemned the disturbances and threatened to expel anyone joining the rioters.
By November, 1792, there were eighty-seven branches of the 'Friends' in Britain. Some southern societies were similar in composition to those in Scotland, particularly the 'London Correspondence Club' formed as early as January, 1792. In Scotland, there were many 'Friends' branches, such as the 'Associated Friends of the Constitution of the People' (Glasgow), the 'Sons of Liberty and Friends of Man' (Partick), the 'Perth Society for Parliamentary Reform', and the 'Friends of the People Society of Edinburgh'. In July, 1792, Muir and farmer, William Skirving, established the 'Scottish Association of the Friends of the People', bringing the branches under one umbrella organisation.
The first national general convention of the 'Friends' in Scotland was held on the 11th of December, 1792; its effective leader being Thomas Muir. A total of 160 delegates, including some government spies, from thirty-five branches of the 'Friends' in Scotland, met in Edinburgh. The convention was well attended by some prominent Advocates and the nobility was represented by Lord Daer. Also in attendance were the MP for Inverness, Colonel Macleod, and Lieutenant Colonel William Dalrymple of Fordell.
Two more general or national conventions were held by the 'Friends', the second of those, in October, 1793, being open to delegates from English branches and societies. That third convention, called 'British', wasn't attended by the Lords and lawyers, and was publicly renounced by Macleod. It was broken up by the authorities and more men were arrested and tried for sedition by a panicky Government. They were sentenced to transportation, along with Muir and Dundee's Thomas Fyshe Palmer.
That sort of persecution spelled the end for the 'Friends' societies. Hopes of peace with France gave way to the Napoleonic Wars and an ever more frightened Government continued its unprecedented increase in crackdowns on freedom of speech and persecution of radicals. In Tranent, in 1797, the army crushed an anti-conscription protest, indiscriminately killing eleven miners and wounding twelve others. The 'Friends of the People' was wound down and reform was left to the Whigs in Parliament. It wasn’t until the working class rebellions of 1819-20 that organised radicalism reappeared.
Saturday, 10 December 2011
The establishment of parish schools in Scotland
By an Act of the Scottish Privy Council, on the 10th of December, 1616, ordinance was published for the establishment of parish schools in Scotland.
Whatever might be said about the quality of education in general throughout Great Britain in the 21st Century, it has always been considered very important in Scotland. In fact, Scots still have their own educational system, distinct, perhaps superior, from that of the other constituent parts of the United Kingdom. There have been schools in Scotland from as far back as early medieval times and very likely earlier. Aberdeen’s earliest school, for example, dates from 1124. Although there is no surviving evidence of any schools before the 12th Century, it's also true that early Christian monasteries functioned as centres of learning. Later, until the Reformation took hold, it was the Roman Catholic Church that organised schooling.
Apart from Aberdeen, the first schools included the High School of Glasgow, dating also from 1124, and the High School of Dundee, established in 1239. Such schools were grammar schools and, largely speaking, only available to boys, and the sons of the wealthy elite at that. From the 15th Century, education advanced exponentially in Scotland with the founding of several universities: St Andrews in 1413; Glasgow in 1450; and Aberdeen in 1495. The year after Aberdeen's university was established, James IV brought in Scotland's first Education Act. That act decreed that the eldest sons of barons and freeholders of substance should attend grammar schools to study Latin, arts and law, in order to ensure that all local government in James' kingdom lay in knowledgeable hands. The resulting increase in literacy no doubt contributed to the flowering of Scottish culture, under the influence of the European Renaissance, during the reign of the enlightened one – James IV.
Come the Reformation and Scotland saw a change in the delivery of formal education. John Knox gets a lot of the credit and no doubt he felt he deserved it. In 1560, Knox's 'First Book of Discipline' outlined a national system for providing a “virtuous education and godly upbringing of the youth of this Realm”. The mechanism was the establishment of parish primary schools, burgh grammar schools, high schools, and new universities; Edinburgh, which was established in 1582 and Marischal College, Aberdeen, in 1593.
The Kirk wanted to ensure that everyone could read the Bible, but its heart was in the right place when it added, “For the poor, if need be, education may be given free.” The result was the setting up of schools in various towns and parishes, but it was no means widespread. Subjects taught were as proposed by Knox and his cronies, namely the Catechism, grammar, classical literature, French, and Latin “if the town be of any reputation.” In the high schools, such as were provided, was taught in addition “the Arts, at least Logic and Rhetoric.”
Fifty-six years after Knox's book and one hundred and twenty years after James IV's act, James VI's Privy Council passed the School Establishment Act of 1616, which mandated that a school be established in every parish. According to the section on the 'Acts of the Parliament and of the Privy Council of Scotland, relative to the establishing and maintaining of Schools' published in 1840, in the 'Miscellany of the Maitland Club', “Thairfoir the Kingis Majestie with advise of the Lordis of his secreit Counsall hes thocht it necessar and expedient that in everie parroche of this Kingdome whair convenient meanes may be had for interteyning a scoole That a scoole salbe establisheit and a fitt persone appointit to teach the same upoun the expensis of the parrochinneris.”
The act, inspired by the preamble to Knox's book, set out the responsibilities of the local heritors (the landed proprietors of the parish) to provide and fund a schoolhouse, with a Dominie (schoolmaster) on a small, fixed salary. Also, as per the system outlined by Knox, the act declared that “ all his Majesties subjectis especailly the youth be exercised and trayned up in civilitie and godlines knawledge and leirning.” Unable to escape the clutches of the Kirk, the act further declared that “the trew religion be advanceit and establisheit in all the places of this kingdome,” however, the Episcopalian Bishops were to supervise the schools, rather than Ministers as the Presbyterians would have wished. There was always a rift between the Kirk and the Monarch in Scotland.
Not satisfied with its involvement in education and religion, the 1616 Privy Council act commanded a social change. Religion notwithstanding, the objectionable objective of the act was the obliteration of Gaelic, which James VI and I spoke himself by the way; one of his several and varied talents. The promoting of universally available education was praiseworthy, but the intended elimination of Gaelic and its attendant assault on highland culture was a dastardly deed. The Maitland Club's 'Miscellany' records the crime as follows: “That the vulgar Inglish toung be universallie plantit and the Irische language which is one of the cheif and principall causis of the continewance of barbaritie and incivilitie amangis the inhabitantis of the Ilis and heylandis may be abolisheit and removit.” This Privy Council act was neither the first nor the last attempt to sort out the descendants of the Picts, and the Gaels.
It took three more acts of Parliament, in 1633, 1646 and 1696, before a solid foundation was established and schools became sufficiently widespread to be classed as nationwide. At first, success proved elusive, because of Scotland’s relative poverty and the prevailing political and religious circumstances. The 1633 act was introduced to levy a tax on local landowners; to ensure that money was available. The 1696 Scottish Parliament act for 'Setting Schools’ ensured that every parish not already equipped with a school was required to establish a schoolhouse and to provide for a Dominie. By the end of the 18th Century, most parishes in Scotland had at least one school. No accident then, that from the 18th Century onwards, Scotland had one of the highest standards of literacy of any nation in Europe.
Whatever might be said about the quality of education in general throughout Great Britain in the 21st Century, it has always been considered very important in Scotland. In fact, Scots still have their own educational system, distinct, perhaps superior, from that of the other constituent parts of the United Kingdom. There have been schools in Scotland from as far back as early medieval times and very likely earlier. Aberdeen’s earliest school, for example, dates from 1124. Although there is no surviving evidence of any schools before the 12th Century, it's also true that early Christian monasteries functioned as centres of learning. Later, until the Reformation took hold, it was the Roman Catholic Church that organised schooling.
Apart from Aberdeen, the first schools included the High School of Glasgow, dating also from 1124, and the High School of Dundee, established in 1239. Such schools were grammar schools and, largely speaking, only available to boys, and the sons of the wealthy elite at that. From the 15th Century, education advanced exponentially in Scotland with the founding of several universities: St Andrews in 1413; Glasgow in 1450; and Aberdeen in 1495. The year after Aberdeen's university was established, James IV brought in Scotland's first Education Act. That act decreed that the eldest sons of barons and freeholders of substance should attend grammar schools to study Latin, arts and law, in order to ensure that all local government in James' kingdom lay in knowledgeable hands. The resulting increase in literacy no doubt contributed to the flowering of Scottish culture, under the influence of the European Renaissance, during the reign of the enlightened one – James IV.
Come the Reformation and Scotland saw a change in the delivery of formal education. John Knox gets a lot of the credit and no doubt he felt he deserved it. In 1560, Knox's 'First Book of Discipline' outlined a national system for providing a “virtuous education and godly upbringing of the youth of this Realm”. The mechanism was the establishment of parish primary schools, burgh grammar schools, high schools, and new universities; Edinburgh, which was established in 1582 and Marischal College, Aberdeen, in 1593.
The Kirk wanted to ensure that everyone could read the Bible, but its heart was in the right place when it added, “For the poor, if need be, education may be given free.” The result was the setting up of schools in various towns and parishes, but it was no means widespread. Subjects taught were as proposed by Knox and his cronies, namely the Catechism, grammar, classical literature, French, and Latin “if the town be of any reputation.” In the high schools, such as were provided, was taught in addition “the Arts, at least Logic and Rhetoric.”
Fifty-six years after Knox's book and one hundred and twenty years after James IV's act, James VI's Privy Council passed the School Establishment Act of 1616, which mandated that a school be established in every parish. According to the section on the 'Acts of the Parliament and of the Privy Council of Scotland, relative to the establishing and maintaining of Schools' published in 1840, in the 'Miscellany of the Maitland Club', “Thairfoir the Kingis Majestie with advise of the Lordis of his secreit Counsall hes thocht it necessar and expedient that in everie parroche of this Kingdome whair convenient meanes may be had for interteyning a scoole That a scoole salbe establisheit and a fitt persone appointit to teach the same upoun the expensis of the parrochinneris.”
The act, inspired by the preamble to Knox's book, set out the responsibilities of the local heritors (the landed proprietors of the parish) to provide and fund a schoolhouse, with a Dominie (schoolmaster) on a small, fixed salary. Also, as per the system outlined by Knox, the act declared that “ all his Majesties subjectis especailly the youth be exercised and trayned up in civilitie and godlines knawledge and leirning.” Unable to escape the clutches of the Kirk, the act further declared that “the trew religion be advanceit and establisheit in all the places of this kingdome,” however, the Episcopalian Bishops were to supervise the schools, rather than Ministers as the Presbyterians would have wished. There was always a rift between the Kirk and the Monarch in Scotland.
Not satisfied with its involvement in education and religion, the 1616 Privy Council act commanded a social change. Religion notwithstanding, the objectionable objective of the act was the obliteration of Gaelic, which James VI and I spoke himself by the way; one of his several and varied talents. The promoting of universally available education was praiseworthy, but the intended elimination of Gaelic and its attendant assault on highland culture was a dastardly deed. The Maitland Club's 'Miscellany' records the crime as follows: “That the vulgar Inglish toung be universallie plantit and the Irische language which is one of the cheif and principall causis of the continewance of barbaritie and incivilitie amangis the inhabitantis of the Ilis and heylandis may be abolisheit and removit.” This Privy Council act was neither the first nor the last attempt to sort out the descendants of the Picts, and the Gaels.
It took three more acts of Parliament, in 1633, 1646 and 1696, before a solid foundation was established and schools became sufficiently widespread to be classed as nationwide. At first, success proved elusive, because of Scotland’s relative poverty and the prevailing political and religious circumstances. The 1633 act was introduced to levy a tax on local landowners; to ensure that money was available. The 1696 Scottish Parliament act for 'Setting Schools’ ensured that every parish not already equipped with a school was required to establish a schoolhouse and to provide for a Dominie. By the end of the 18th Century, most parishes in Scotland had at least one school. No accident then, that from the 18th Century onwards, Scotland had one of the highest standards of literacy of any nation in Europe.
Monday, 5 December 2011
The 'Quitclaim Of Canterbury'
The 'Quitclaim Of Canterbury' was agreed on the 5th of December, 1189.
Here's a treaty that was good for Scotland! The treaty known as the 'Quitclaim Of Canterbury' (Cantuariam) annulled the provisions of the 'Treaty Of Falaise' and restored to Scotland it's rights as previously enjoyed. Those rights had been enjoyed by Scotland's King, William I, known as Uilliam Garbh (William ‘the Rough’), and before him by his brother, Malcolm IV (Malcolm 'the Maiden'), whom he succeeded. Before that, it was enjoyed by the chronological procession of Kings of Scots, interrupted only by frequent interventions from the south, most notably by Edward I of England.
William I also came to be known as William 'the Lion' and he is credited with adopting the red Lion Rampant on a yellow background as the Royal Emblem of Scotland, under the ‘laws of heraldry’; from whence the nickname. The complimentary sobriquet was first coined by the chronicler Fordun, when he wrote of him as ‘William the Lion of Justice’. The fact that William lost Scotland's right for a while wasn't because he tint them, it was because he had them taken away by yet another English King with megalomaniac tendencies.
For all his lion-like roughness, William suffered from the same problem that afflicted most all Scottish Kings – he was always outnumbered when it came to a fight. The fight he got himself into, which led to the Treaty of Falaise being forced upon him, wasn't one he started. That stushie was began in 1173 by the wife and sons of England's King, Henry II. Eleanor of Aquitaine and three of her sons led a revolt agianst her husband and William pitched in on the side of the rebels in return for the promise of having his title to the Earldom of Northumberland reinstated.
Northumberland had been given to David I in 1149, by King Stephen of England, and William succeeded his father as Earl in 1152. However, in 1157, the avaricious Plantagenet King Henry II succeeded in getting back Northumberland by threat of force. Malcolm IV put up no opposition and William had his Earldom surrendered on his behalf by his brother. Following Malcolm’s death on the 9th of December, 1165, William was crowned King of Scots at Scone on the 24th of December. Although Henry II then recognised William's succession to the English Earldom of Huntingdon, he refused to grant William that of Northumberland.
After an halfhearted attempt in 1173, in the following year, William launched a grand invasion of Northumberland, with a large army that included a contingent of Flemish mercenaries. William was cute enough to invade when Henry II was awa' in France, but with his army divided into three columns, he came unstuck. In the dawn mist of the 12th of July, 1174, William was surprised in his encampment by a party of about four hundred mounted knights, led by Ranulf de Glanvill. Outnumbered, with a bodyguard of perhaps just sixty fighting men, William rushed from his tent, shouting fearlessly, “Now we shall see which of us are good Knights!”
The 'Battle of Alnwick' didnae last long as William was unhorsed and captured. Scotland's Lion King was then taken to Newcastle, with his feet tied beneath his horse, before being brought to Falaise, in Normandy, around five months later, to face his nemesis, Henry II. The ‘Treaty of Falaise’ then, was signed on the 8th of December, 1174. Its humiliating terms meant that William was forced to accept Henry II as his feudal overlord, meaning Scotland was made a feudal possession of its southron neighbour. In addition, William lost possession of Huntingdon and had to surrender Stirling and Edinburgh Castles to the English. Not only that, Scots had to pay taxes to cover the cost of the English army’s occupation. And just to rub in the ignominious loss of rights, the Scottish Church was placed under the jurisdiction of the English Primate at York.
The ‘Treaty of Falaise’ remained in force for three days short of fifteen years until, in 1189, Richard Coeur de Lion (Richard ‘the Lionheart’), who was broke and in dire need of money to finance the Third Crusade to relieve Jerusalem, agreed to an annulment. The treaty confirming the deal included the restoration of the towns of Berwick and Roxburgh, and confirmation of Williams's rights over Huntingdon. William and Scotland’s release from subjection and allegiance cost his coffers 10,000 silver Marks (or Merks) and the transaction was called the ‘Quitclaim of Canterbury’. It was so called, because the essence of the treaty was Richard I (styled “duke of Normans and Acquitaines and count of Angevins” in the treaty) agreeing to give up any claim he had for feudal superiority over William.
The document states, “...we have freed him [William] from all compacts which our good father Henry, king of the English, extorted from him by new charters and by his capture.” It is perhaps essential to note that the 'Quitclaim' in itself is a long way from being a recognition of Scottish independence. The document (witnessed by thirteen notables, including Richard's infamous brother John; Hamelin de Warenne, Earl of Surrey; and Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury) merely records a return to the status quo that had existed before the Treaty of Falaise. As the 'Quitclaim' further states, “And the oft-named King William has become our liegeman for all the lands for which his predecessors were liegeman of our predecessors; and he has sworn fealty to us and to our heirs.”
Andrew D. M. Barrell confirmed that view in writing 'Medieval Scotland', in which he suggests, “[the Quitclaim] left undefined the earlier ambiguities in the nature of the relationship, including William's claim to Northumbria. He may have been prepared to accept a vague English suzerainty as an inevitable consequence of the imbalance of power between the two realms.”
Three years later, in 1192, the Pope granted a Bull to William, recognising the separate identity of the Scottish Church and its independence of all ecclesiastical authorities apart from Rome. Twenty-two years after that, William 'the Lion', called “Willelmo” in the 'Quitclaim', died at Stirling, on the 4th of December, 1214. William was buried at Arbroath, the Abbey he had founded. Incidentally, the ‘Quitclaim of Canterbury’ is the earliest surviving Scottish public record. It is held in the National Archives of Scotland.
Here's a treaty that was good for Scotland! The treaty known as the 'Quitclaim Of Canterbury' (Cantuariam) annulled the provisions of the 'Treaty Of Falaise' and restored to Scotland it's rights as previously enjoyed. Those rights had been enjoyed by Scotland's King, William I, known as Uilliam Garbh (William ‘the Rough’), and before him by his brother, Malcolm IV (Malcolm 'the Maiden'), whom he succeeded. Before that, it was enjoyed by the chronological procession of Kings of Scots, interrupted only by frequent interventions from the south, most notably by Edward I of England.
William I also came to be known as William 'the Lion' and he is credited with adopting the red Lion Rampant on a yellow background as the Royal Emblem of Scotland, under the ‘laws of heraldry’; from whence the nickname. The complimentary sobriquet was first coined by the chronicler Fordun, when he wrote of him as ‘William the Lion of Justice’. The fact that William lost Scotland's right for a while wasn't because he tint them, it was because he had them taken away by yet another English King with megalomaniac tendencies.
For all his lion-like roughness, William suffered from the same problem that afflicted most all Scottish Kings – he was always outnumbered when it came to a fight. The fight he got himself into, which led to the Treaty of Falaise being forced upon him, wasn't one he started. That stushie was began in 1173 by the wife and sons of England's King, Henry II. Eleanor of Aquitaine and three of her sons led a revolt agianst her husband and William pitched in on the side of the rebels in return for the promise of having his title to the Earldom of Northumberland reinstated.
Northumberland had been given to David I in 1149, by King Stephen of England, and William succeeded his father as Earl in 1152. However, in 1157, the avaricious Plantagenet King Henry II succeeded in getting back Northumberland by threat of force. Malcolm IV put up no opposition and William had his Earldom surrendered on his behalf by his brother. Following Malcolm’s death on the 9th of December, 1165, William was crowned King of Scots at Scone on the 24th of December. Although Henry II then recognised William's succession to the English Earldom of Huntingdon, he refused to grant William that of Northumberland.
After an halfhearted attempt in 1173, in the following year, William launched a grand invasion of Northumberland, with a large army that included a contingent of Flemish mercenaries. William was cute enough to invade when Henry II was awa' in France, but with his army divided into three columns, he came unstuck. In the dawn mist of the 12th of July, 1174, William was surprised in his encampment by a party of about four hundred mounted knights, led by Ranulf de Glanvill. Outnumbered, with a bodyguard of perhaps just sixty fighting men, William rushed from his tent, shouting fearlessly, “Now we shall see which of us are good Knights!”
The 'Battle of Alnwick' didnae last long as William was unhorsed and captured. Scotland's Lion King was then taken to Newcastle, with his feet tied beneath his horse, before being brought to Falaise, in Normandy, around five months later, to face his nemesis, Henry II. The ‘Treaty of Falaise’ then, was signed on the 8th of December, 1174. Its humiliating terms meant that William was forced to accept Henry II as his feudal overlord, meaning Scotland was made a feudal possession of its southron neighbour. In addition, William lost possession of Huntingdon and had to surrender Stirling and Edinburgh Castles to the English. Not only that, Scots had to pay taxes to cover the cost of the English army’s occupation. And just to rub in the ignominious loss of rights, the Scottish Church was placed under the jurisdiction of the English Primate at York.
The ‘Treaty of Falaise’ remained in force for three days short of fifteen years until, in 1189, Richard Coeur de Lion (Richard ‘the Lionheart’), who was broke and in dire need of money to finance the Third Crusade to relieve Jerusalem, agreed to an annulment. The treaty confirming the deal included the restoration of the towns of Berwick and Roxburgh, and confirmation of Williams's rights over Huntingdon. William and Scotland’s release from subjection and allegiance cost his coffers 10,000 silver Marks (or Merks) and the transaction was called the ‘Quitclaim of Canterbury’. It was so called, because the essence of the treaty was Richard I (styled “duke of Normans and Acquitaines and count of Angevins” in the treaty) agreeing to give up any claim he had for feudal superiority over William.
The document states, “...we have freed him [William] from all compacts which our good father Henry, king of the English, extorted from him by new charters and by his capture.” It is perhaps essential to note that the 'Quitclaim' in itself is a long way from being a recognition of Scottish independence. The document (witnessed by thirteen notables, including Richard's infamous brother John; Hamelin de Warenne, Earl of Surrey; and Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury) merely records a return to the status quo that had existed before the Treaty of Falaise. As the 'Quitclaim' further states, “And the oft-named King William has become our liegeman for all the lands for which his predecessors were liegeman of our predecessors; and he has sworn fealty to us and to our heirs.”
Andrew D. M. Barrell confirmed that view in writing 'Medieval Scotland', in which he suggests, “[the Quitclaim] left undefined the earlier ambiguities in the nature of the relationship, including William's claim to Northumbria. He may have been prepared to accept a vague English suzerainty as an inevitable consequence of the imbalance of power between the two realms.”
Three years later, in 1192, the Pope granted a Bull to William, recognising the separate identity of the Scottish Church and its independence of all ecclesiastical authorities apart from Rome. Twenty-two years after that, William 'the Lion', called “Willelmo” in the 'Quitclaim', died at Stirling, on the 4th of December, 1214. William was buried at Arbroath, the Abbey he had founded. Incidentally, the ‘Quitclaim of Canterbury’ is the earliest surviving Scottish public record. It is held in the National Archives of Scotland.
Sunday, 4 December 2011
The Treaty of London
The Anglo-Scottish agreement known as the Treaty of London was supposedly signed on the 4th of December, 1423.
There have been many Anglo-Scottish treaties over the centuries; some good, some bad, some indifferent. Many of those treaties favoured the southern side, whether it was the Saxons, the Normans, the Tudors or the descendants of the anglicised Stuarts, such as happened in 1707. Way back in 1423, there is supposed to have been a treaty signed in London; hence the name – the Treaty of London. There have been also several London Treaties by the way. On the face of it, the 1423 event was an important occasion. It is said to have been the official recognition of an agreement finalising the terms of the release from English custody of Scotland's King, James I, after his eighteen-year captivity.
A release treaty then, between Henry VI of England and James I of Scotland. The problem is, there was no such treaty – at least in London. The real treaty that secured James' release was the Treaty of Durham, signed, guess where, on the 28th of March, 1424. What happened in London, up to and including the 4th of December, 1423, was merely the negotiation of the marriage of James I, King of Scots, to Miss Jane Beaufort, daughter of the Earl of Somerset.
Back in 1406, soon after he had been born, James' father, Robert III, decided to send wee Jamesie to France – for his own protection. That was largely down to the disturbing fact that earlier, in 1402, the same King’s elder son, David, Duke of Rothesay, had been starved to death in Falkland, after being imprisoned on the orders of his uncle, Robert, Duke of Albany. With Robert III being an invalid, his very capable brother, Albany, was effectively the ruler of Scotland; as Regent. After the murder of his brother, wee Jamesie was the only surviving heir and vulnerable to a similar fate. Whether Albany was really as dangerous as he has been portrayed, the King wisnae taking any chances and, in March, 1406, James set sail for France. He never made it.
Ok, James did get to France, but not until 1415, when he was used as a pawn in the campaign of Henry V. In that year, James' presence provided Henry with a justification for treating the Scottish auxiliaries, who made up the backbone of French resistance to the English, as rebels. James went back to France, again, in 1421, with the same idea of embarrassing France’s Scottish allies. That move led to James being pitted against 6000 of his own subjects in open warfare. Similar things are still going on in the 21st Century, which only goes to prove Hegel's adage; “We learn from history that we do not learn from history.”
On the way to France in 1406, James’ ship, the Maryenknecht out of Danzig, was captured by English sailors and he was promptly taken into the custody of Henry IV. The English King refused a ransom and, just a month later, when James' father died and at the age of twelve, he became the first of the Jameses – the first of six such Kings of Scots. However, James I wasn't the first Scots King to be held captive by the English. James wasn't the last King be held captive either, albeit his successors were so done to by their own subjects.
So James was a King in name only whilst he remained a captive in England, with his rule and government being carried on by the Regent, Albany. That wily old fox showed no signs of anxiety in trying to procure his nephew's release. When Albany died in 1420, to be succeeded as Regent by his son, Murdac (Murdoch), things didn't change much at all, despite Murdoch having been also a captive in England, until his release in 1415. You'd think Murdoch might've had a bit of sympathy for James' plight from having shared some of his experience – no chance! James had increasing freedoms in England, but there was no sign of any significant desire from north of the Border for his release. After all, neither of the Albanys had any incentive to give up their rule of Scotland, in favour of nephew or cousin. As it happens, Murdoch's son, Walter, with more influence than his father, who wasn't nearly as effective as the previous Albany, was instrumental in the stalling and obstruction that occurred.
It wasn't until after the death of Henry VI, in 1422, that any serious negotiations for James’ release took place. The first of those, with representatives of the infant Henry VI, took place in Pomfret, in the summer of 1423. After consulting with James himself, the English sent a priest, Dougal Drummond, with a safe conduct for several notables to meet “with their master the captive king and there to treat of their common interests.”
The Scots party included William Lauder, the Bishop of Glasgow and Chancellor of Scotland; the Dunbar Earl of March; John Montgomery of Androssan; Sir Patrick Dunbar of Bele; Sir Robert Lauder of Edrington; and others unmentioned. At that meeting, James acted as a kind of a mediator between England and his own subjects and a list of items upon which to treat was fleshed out. A follow-up meeting was held at York, during which the terms of the eventual Durham Treaty were laid out in more detail. The chief articles, agreed between the English Commissioners and the Scottish representatives on the 10th of September, 1423, numbered five.
The principle article required the King of Scots and his heirs to pay to the King of England the sum of 60,000 Merks as “an equivalent for his entertainment in England.” That sum was to be paid in six equal instalments, beginning with the first, which was due six months after the King of Scotland had entered his own kingdom. There was a provision for the last payment to be remitted and that was linked to the fifth article. That last article effectively declared that “to cement and perpetuate the amity of the two kingdoms the governors of Scotland should send ambassadors to London with power to conclude a contract of marriage between the King of Scotland and some lady of the first quality in England.
That lady was Jane Beaufort, with whom James had already fallen in love. Indeed, during his captivity in England, James the Poet had written the ‘Kingis Quair’ celebrating his courtship of the Lady Jane. James and Jane were wed in London on the 12th of February, 1424. Ten thousand Merks of the release payment was remitted as the new Queen's dowry.
There have been many Anglo-Scottish treaties over the centuries; some good, some bad, some indifferent. Many of those treaties favoured the southern side, whether it was the Saxons, the Normans, the Tudors or the descendants of the anglicised Stuarts, such as happened in 1707. Way back in 1423, there is supposed to have been a treaty signed in London; hence the name – the Treaty of London. There have been also several London Treaties by the way. On the face of it, the 1423 event was an important occasion. It is said to have been the official recognition of an agreement finalising the terms of the release from English custody of Scotland's King, James I, after his eighteen-year captivity.
A release treaty then, between Henry VI of England and James I of Scotland. The problem is, there was no such treaty – at least in London. The real treaty that secured James' release was the Treaty of Durham, signed, guess where, on the 28th of March, 1424. What happened in London, up to and including the 4th of December, 1423, was merely the negotiation of the marriage of James I, King of Scots, to Miss Jane Beaufort, daughter of the Earl of Somerset.
Back in 1406, soon after he had been born, James' father, Robert III, decided to send wee Jamesie to France – for his own protection. That was largely down to the disturbing fact that earlier, in 1402, the same King’s elder son, David, Duke of Rothesay, had been starved to death in Falkland, after being imprisoned on the orders of his uncle, Robert, Duke of Albany. With Robert III being an invalid, his very capable brother, Albany, was effectively the ruler of Scotland; as Regent. After the murder of his brother, wee Jamesie was the only surviving heir and vulnerable to a similar fate. Whether Albany was really as dangerous as he has been portrayed, the King wisnae taking any chances and, in March, 1406, James set sail for France. He never made it.
Ok, James did get to France, but not until 1415, when he was used as a pawn in the campaign of Henry V. In that year, James' presence provided Henry with a justification for treating the Scottish auxiliaries, who made up the backbone of French resistance to the English, as rebels. James went back to France, again, in 1421, with the same idea of embarrassing France’s Scottish allies. That move led to James being pitted against 6000 of his own subjects in open warfare. Similar things are still going on in the 21st Century, which only goes to prove Hegel's adage; “We learn from history that we do not learn from history.”
On the way to France in 1406, James’ ship, the Maryenknecht out of Danzig, was captured by English sailors and he was promptly taken into the custody of Henry IV. The English King refused a ransom and, just a month later, when James' father died and at the age of twelve, he became the first of the Jameses – the first of six such Kings of Scots. However, James I wasn't the first Scots King to be held captive by the English. James wasn't the last King be held captive either, albeit his successors were so done to by their own subjects.
So James was a King in name only whilst he remained a captive in England, with his rule and government being carried on by the Regent, Albany. That wily old fox showed no signs of anxiety in trying to procure his nephew's release. When Albany died in 1420, to be succeeded as Regent by his son, Murdac (Murdoch), things didn't change much at all, despite Murdoch having been also a captive in England, until his release in 1415. You'd think Murdoch might've had a bit of sympathy for James' plight from having shared some of his experience – no chance! James had increasing freedoms in England, but there was no sign of any significant desire from north of the Border for his release. After all, neither of the Albanys had any incentive to give up their rule of Scotland, in favour of nephew or cousin. As it happens, Murdoch's son, Walter, with more influence than his father, who wasn't nearly as effective as the previous Albany, was instrumental in the stalling and obstruction that occurred.
It wasn't until after the death of Henry VI, in 1422, that any serious negotiations for James’ release took place. The first of those, with representatives of the infant Henry VI, took place in Pomfret, in the summer of 1423. After consulting with James himself, the English sent a priest, Dougal Drummond, with a safe conduct for several notables to meet “with their master the captive king and there to treat of their common interests.”
The Scots party included William Lauder, the Bishop of Glasgow and Chancellor of Scotland; the Dunbar Earl of March; John Montgomery of Androssan; Sir Patrick Dunbar of Bele; Sir Robert Lauder of Edrington; and others unmentioned. At that meeting, James acted as a kind of a mediator between England and his own subjects and a list of items upon which to treat was fleshed out. A follow-up meeting was held at York, during which the terms of the eventual Durham Treaty were laid out in more detail. The chief articles, agreed between the English Commissioners and the Scottish representatives on the 10th of September, 1423, numbered five.
The principle article required the King of Scots and his heirs to pay to the King of England the sum of 60,000 Merks as “an equivalent for his entertainment in England.” That sum was to be paid in six equal instalments, beginning with the first, which was due six months after the King of Scotland had entered his own kingdom. There was a provision for the last payment to be remitted and that was linked to the fifth article. That last article effectively declared that “to cement and perpetuate the amity of the two kingdoms the governors of Scotland should send ambassadors to London with power to conclude a contract of marriage between the King of Scotland and some lady of the first quality in England.
That lady was Jane Beaufort, with whom James had already fallen in love. Indeed, during his captivity in England, James the Poet had written the ‘Kingis Quair’ celebrating his courtship of the Lady Jane. James and Jane were wed in London on the 12th of February, 1424. Ten thousand Merks of the release payment was remitted as the new Queen's dowry.
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