Archive for the ‘Medieval Weapons and Warfare’ Category

The Hobby Horse and the Black Douglas

The Black Douglas.  The very name evokes images of dread.  He is said to have had thick black hair and a thick, black beard, but to the English, the name referred strictly to his deeds.  Starting immediately after Bannockburn, when Edward II refused to grant recognition to the Scots as an independent nation, James Douglas embarked on a series of border raids, plundering, pillaging, and burning much of the north of England.  So dreaded was his name that a rhyme sprang up about him:  

Hush ye, hush ye, little pet ye,

Hush ye, hush ye, do not fret ye,

The Black Douglas shall not get ye.

One famous story tells of a mother consoling her child with the rhyme above.  At the final words, a voice behind her said, “At least not tonight.”  The Black Douglas had stood behind her in silence, listening to her sing.  (To the best of my knowledge, Douglas did neither her nor her child any harm.)

It is hard to imagine that a child’s hobby horse could have any relation to medieval warfare, or a man of such fierce reputation.  And yet, it is from the horses ridden by Robert Bruce and the Black Douglas and their men that we get the name hobby horse.

The Irish Hobby is the official name of the breed, developed before the 13th century, and now extinct, though it was used to develop many current breeds, including the Connemara and the Irish Draught.  They were smaller horses, sometimes described as more like ponies, whose strength was in being light, agile, and swift.   The name, in fact, is believed to come from the French hobin, which is said to come in turn from the Gaelic obann, meaning swift. 

The hobbin’s speed came, in part, from being well suited to the bogs, forests, and hills of Ireland and Scotland.  Being light and agile allowed it to move easily through such places, where the large English warhorse was at a disadvantage.  Even in such rough conditions, hobelars–the men who rode the hobbins–could cover an astonishing 60 to 70 miles a day, allowing them to make the lightning strike-and-retreat raids across the English border for which James Douglas was especially famed.

Unlike the warhorse, trained for battle, the hobbin was essentially a mode of transport.  The Scots typically rode in fast, dismounted to fight on foot, and rode out again.  The humble hobbin, however, might claim some credit for the Scots frequent ability to outfight much larger armies.  Imagine how it might have been:

The Connemara Pony, a breed believed to be similar to the hobbins ridden by James Douglas and his men.

 
 Half a dozen Scots, leaning low over their hobbins’ necks, shot in and out among mist-laced trees. Dark hair streamed behind them, tartans flapped over their shoulders in the wild night ride. Sweat and horseflesh stung their noses; adrenaline drove them, hearts pounding. From behind came the shouts of a score of English knights, their large warhorses crashing through the dark woods. The hobbins bolted up a rocky hill like mountain goats, and scrambled, nimble-footed, down the other side . They skimmed the spongy bog at the bottom, into the cover of forest beyond. Although the hobbin has the reputation of being a Scottish horse, King Edward saw their many assets.  England used them in its  own share of attacks on the Scots, often with far uglier and blacker methods than Douglas used.  At least one source reports the English crucifying priests on their own church doors.  While the church burned.

Silhouetted by the moon, the first English charger stumbled at the top of the hill, struggling to keep its footing under a thousand pounds of knight, armor, and weapons. The Scots loosed a storm of arrows, felling knights as they picked their way down the slope.

One armor-covered stallion burst onto the moor.  Mud sucked at its fetlocks, dragging it down. It lifted its nose, bared its teeth with an angry scream, yanking its leg. Two more knights reached the bog. The Scots loosed another volley; three mired horses and riders went down.

None of it is quite what we think of today when we see children skipping with their hobby horses to the jovial strains of the William Tell Overture.

23 Feb 2010
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Posted in Great Figures of Medieval Scotland, Medieval Weapons and Warfare, Scottish History | 12 Comments »

John Balliol

John Balliol is a name largely unknown to Americans, but he had the fortune–good or bad–to be briefly king of Scotland.

John Balliol’s kingship came via several avenues.  The first was the luck of the draw: he just so happened to be born a great-great-great grandson of David I of Scotland.  I’m guessing most of us don’t even know the names of our great-great-great grandfathers, but in his case, such a name was vitally important to an entire nation; in fact, to two, as we’ll see.

The second factor in John Balliol’s kingship was a series of unfortunate deaths.  He would have lived part of his life under the rule of Alexander III of Scotland.  Alexander had three children, all of whom preceded him in death: David, the younger son, in 1281, Margaret, Queen of Norway, in childbirth 1283; and the elder brother, Prince Alexander, in 1284.  This left Alexander’s young granddaughter, Margaret, known as The Maid of Norway, as his sole heir.  With Alexander’s wife and three children all dead, and a country in need of an heir, Alexander re-married.  His race home to his new bride, despite adverse weather, ironically, led to his death when his horse fell over a cliff in the dark, and exactly the situation a new wife was supposed to prevent. 

Alexander’s young granddaughter, three or four years of age when Alexander died, was sent from Norway, in 1290, to take the throne of Scotland.  Not only did she become ill on the voyage, but a storm blew her ship off course.  She died on September 26, 1290 on Orkney Island, at the age of 7.

This left a country that had, just a few short years before, had a monarch and four clear heirs, with no obvious successor to the throne.

Into this void stepped thirteen men, all claiming the right of succession.  Maybe six of these had strong claims, with Robert Bruce, “the Competitor,” grandfather of the better known Robert the Bruce, Robert I of Scotland, and John Balliol having the strongest.  John Balliol and his three older brothers–all of whom had predeceased him, leaving him as the possible heir–were descended from an elder daughter of the line of King David, while Bruce was descended from a second daughter, but a generation closer to David I.

Still, civil war threatened to break out.  The Scots invited Edward I, Edward Longshanks, King of England, to settle the matter.  Edward chose John Balliol, viewing him as the weaker and more easily controlled man.  So on the 17th of November, 1292, Balliol became king of Scotland. 

His reign was short-lived.

Fortunately for Scotland, perhaps unfortunately for John himself, neither he nor Scotland was quite as weak as Longshanks expected.  At first, homage to Edward I, as the self-declared Lord Paramount of Scotland, was forced from the Scottish nobility.  (Does anyone besides me sense a medieval Death Star hovering at the border?  Actually, it was called a trebuchet in those times.)  Edward did his best to undermine John’s authority and humiliate him, demanding and receiving legal authority, money, and troops.

In 1294, Edward demanded Scottish troops for his war against France, setting a deadline of September 1. Scotland’s response was to immediately enter their own negotiations both with France and Norway.  In October of 1294, John Balliol openly defied Edward.  By the summer of 1295, Edward became aware of Scotland’s negotiations with France, and, being a medieval king, did what medieval kings (usually) did best: he gathered his troops to wage war. 

1296 saw the outbreak of hostilities, as Edward Longshanks, in a brief respite from his war against France, drove his army north to conquer the Scots.

John Balliol was known in his own lifetime by, and has come down through history with, the moniker Toom Tabard, meaning empty coat.  It stems from the incident at his capture and forced abdication on July 10, 1296, in which Edward Longshanks, ever on the lookout for a good chance to humiliate a man, ripped the heraldic insignia from Balliol’s tabard, or tunic.

Balliol’s brief kingship ended with capture of himself and his son by Longshanks, and his forced abdication on July 10, 1296.  He was imprisoned  in England’s Tower of London, released in 1299 briefly into the custody of the Pope, and in 1301, allowed to go to his estates in France, where he lived out the rest of his life in exile.

13 Feb 2010
Posted in Clan History, Great Figures of Medieval Scotland, Medieval Weapons and Warfare, Politics, Robert the Bruce, Scottish History | 2 Comments »

Urquhart Castle: History

Urquhart Castle, one of Scotland’s largest medieval castles, standing on the shore of Loch Ness, was one of two main inspirations for Niall’s home, Castle Glenmirril.  (Castle Tioram was the other.)  It sits on a promontory jutting out into the loch, at the north end of the Great Glen.

 Urquhart dates from medieval days, or earlier.  Adomnan’s Life of Columba tells us that a structure of some sort stood on the same site as early as the 6th Century, most likely the home of an elderly Pict noble, Emchath, whom St. Columba converted, on his way to visit King Brude.  As an interesting side note, other sources say it was on his trip to visit Brude that St. Columba became the first recorded observer of the Loch Ness monster.  He saw a sea creature attacking a man, and drove it off by making the sign of the cross and ordering it to leave.  As a second interesting sidenote, reports say that most Nessie sightings do occur near Urquhart.  I guess it’s as popular among behemoth semi-mythical sea creatures as among humans!

Despite evidence of some structure on the site that early, there are no actual records of Urquhart Castle until the 1200’s.  The land on which it is built was once the home of the Durward family, leading many to believe they built the castle.  In 1250, Alan Durward, a powerful Scottish noble and brother-in-law of King Alexander III, held Urquhart.  When Durward died in 1268, the castle went to the powerful Comyn family, Lords of Badenoch, who in later years became enemies of the Bruce family.

Through the years, however, Urquhart has gone through many hands.  In 1296, Edward I (Longshanks) of England,  threw the might of his trebuchet against Urquhart, tearing down its walls and taking it.  2 years later, the Scots regained it.  In 1303, Longshanks took it again, only to have it re-captured in 1308 by Robert the Bruce, who gave it to his nephew, Sir Thomas Randolph, future Earl of Moray.

From the 1500’s until 1912, it remained mostly in the hands of the Grants, although it was frequently attacked, and on occasion captured by, the MacDonalds in the 1500’s, and by the Covenanters in 1644.  1689 saw the last government troops living in Urquhart, and in 1691 or ‘92, depending on the source, Williamite forces blew up the castle to prevent it being used as a Jacobite stronghold.  For part of its history, in the 1700’s, it lived the ignominous life of a stone quarry, but today is the third busiest of Historic Scotland’s sites.

8 Feb 2010
Posted in Architechture, Clan History, Great Figures of Medieval Scotland, Medieval Weapons and Warfare, Robert the Bruce, Scottish History, castles | 1 Comment »

Angus Og

Angus Og, Lord of the Isles– a strong and romantic moniker, evoking fascinating images even before you know anything about him; a name you can really sink your teeth into.

The irony is that Og actually means young.  So this great man was really running around being called Junior.  Hey, Junior, could you go slaughter the English battalion on my right?  Junior, I need 20 galleys and a hundred of your strongest warriors. 

I much prefer Angus Og!

His name aside, he was a fascinating man, yet another who deserves far more attention from history than what he has received.  He looms large (a little historical humor, as some sources say he was small in stature) and colorful in Nigel Tranter’s Bruce Trilogy.  But when it comes to researching him, there is very little.

The facts that are known are minimal.  He was the middle son of Angus Mor.  (Mor is large, or elder, in Gaelic.)  His older brother, Alexander, supported his brother-in-law, MacDougall, and the English.  I have come across very little about his younger brother, Iain (or John) Sprangach, apart from learning that Angus Mor’s lands in the western Isles of Scotland were originally split between the three sons.  Angus Og received Kintyre and Mull.

In a fascinating web of family loyalties, influences, and motivations, we find that Angus Og’s father, Angus Mor, and his uncle, Alisdair Mor, were continually at odds with their cousins, the MacDougalls (that would be Lame John of Lorne and his father, Alexander).  In an attempt to heal that rift, Angus Og’s older brother, Alisadiar Og, was married off to a MacDougall heiress.

Deepening the complexity of the situation, Angus Mor, Alisdair Mor, and Alisdair Mor’s son Donald were most likely supporters of Robert Bruce against the English.  It is true that Alisdair Mor and Donald both signed fealty to Edward I of England in 1291, but then, so did most Scottish nobles, including Bruce himself, under duress. 

Alisdair Mor died in battle against his own kin, the MacDougalls, in 1299, and Angus Mor a year later in 1300, leaving Angus Og’s older brother, Alisdair Og, as the head of the clan.  Alisdair, being now more closely related to the MacDougall family, gave his allegiance to the MacDougalls and the English, even becoming Admiral of the Western Seas.

Angus Og appears to have possibly supported his brother briefly– very briefly, as he is thought to have been largely neutral by 1301.  In 1306, the newly-crowned King Robert, in reality more a fugitive than a king, fled to the Western Isles, and sought refuge with Angus Og.  His risk paid off richly, with Angus Og becoming one of his earliest and strongest friends and supporters, the more so when Angus Og’s older brother Alisdair Og, was defeated in 1308 on the banks of the Dee in Galloway, by Edward Bruce.  One source says he disappeared into Ireland.  Another states very specifically that he was first taken prisoner by Edward Bruce, escaped to Castle Swein(or Sween) in North Knapdale in western Scotland, recaptured by Robert Bruce, and imprisoned in Dundonald Castle in Ayrshire, where he soon died.  This left Angus Og as clan leader, and the powerful new Lord of the Isles.

Donald MacDonald, in Clan Donald,says that Angus Og had supported the English, and had a sudden change of heart.  He discusses and dismisses the idea that this change of heart sprang from self interest: supporting a fugitive is hardly a way to further one’s own cause.  He concludes, instead, that Angus Og was simply re-adopting the decade old loyalty of his father to the Bruce family’s claim to the throne.  I do think it is also worth noting that Bruce and Angus Og shared a common enemy: the MacDougalls.  Bruce came to Angus Og seeking asylum very close on the heels of his (Bruce’s) defeats at the hands of John of Lorn at Dalry.  And it is human nature that, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’

From here on, Angus Og and his islemen warriors are repeatedly found by Bruce’s side.  Angus Og is reported to have been at the 1307 engagement in Galloway, in which Bruce’s brothers, Thomas and Nigel, were captured.  Angus’s cousin Donald fought with Bruce to re-take Arran.  This same Donald seems to have been present at one of Bruce’s early parliaments in 1309.

One source says that Angus Og brought 5,000 of his Islemen to Bannockburn.  Take this number with a grain of salt, as other sources put Bruce’s entire force as low as 5 or 6,000, while other place it as high as 13,000.  However, it is clear that Angus Og’s men made up a large, no doubt vital, percentage of Bruce’s army, considering he fought that day against an army that must have been a minimum of 20,000 men, possibly two or three times that many.  (Once again, sources differ greatly on these numbers.)

Angus Og’s men formed the reserve at Bannockburn.  Bruce held them back until the critical moment, when the English cavalary were already in disarray, and then called them in to support Edward Bruce, on the right.  The storming of the field by Angus Og and his Islemen is said to be one of the events that turned the battle.  Both John Barbour and Walter Scott have immortalized not only Bannockburn, but Angus Og’s part in it, in verse.  Walter Scott puts it thus:

“One effort more and Scotland’s free!  Lord of the Isles, my trust in thee!”

It is since Angus Og’s critical aid at Bannockburn that Clan Donald has forevermore been awarded the honor of holding the right wing in the royal army.

Not much is written of Angus Og’s activities in the wake of Bannockburn, except to say that he was granted extensive lands by Bruce and remained Bruce’s steadfast friend and ally the remainder of their lives.  There is an interesting story about the dowry brought by his bride– a large force of strong, young warriors– and he went on to have two sons, Good John of Islay, and Iain (that’s two sons named John, isn’t it?) and two daughters.

Bruce died in 1329 and Angus Og soon after in 1330.  He is buried on Iona, the traditional burial ground of the Kings of Scotland, under a tomb bearing his arms: a ship with furled sail, a standard, a lion, and a tree.

 

 

 

Graveslab of Angus Og

Graveslab of Angus Og

 

 

 

[As an interesting side note, Angus Mor, father of Angus Og, is also a many-times great grandfather of Lady Diana Spencer, Winston Churchhill, George I, and Louis XVII.]

Sources:

Clan MacAlister, Clan Donald by Donald MacDonald,

30 Oct 2009
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Posted in Clan History, Great Figures of Medieval Scotland, Medieval Weapons and Warfare, Politics, Robert the Bruce, Scottish History | No Comments »

Sailing Over Land

One of the lesser known but more interesting stories from the time of Robert the Bruce is the sea battle against Sir John of Lorne– more colorfully known as Lame John of Lorne or Ian Bacach.

Readers of the Blue Bells Trilogy will be familiar with the MacDougalls. Lame John was the son of Alexander MacDougall. Alexander MacDougall, uncle to John Comyn who was murdered by Bruce, died a few years before Bannockburn, according to most sources. Nigel Tranter does put an Alexander MacDougall at the August 1314 council, as one of many who sided with the English but quickly came back into the peace of Robert the Bruce afterward. On the part of Bruce, his famed mercy was not merely mercy, but the hope of a practical man who believed his country would be stronger if he could finally bring his people together, rather than having them fight against one another. To this end, he offered mercy for the price of allegiance.

Lame John did not accept this offer of peace, but continued to serve Edward II of England, as admiral in the western Isles. Having decreed that Scotland must stand united, Bruce did not care overly much for having Edward II’s ships in his Sound of Jura. Dates are uncertain: some sources indicate as early as June 1315,  a year to the day after Bannockburn, while others suggest it took place in 1316 or even 1317.  Many writings I’ve found are written such that it’s difficult to tell what date they’re really saying, or whether they’re giving one at all.

Regardless of which year it took place, it’s a fascinating battle and a fascinating look at Bruce, who once again showed his ingenuity and ability to use everything he had, even history and superstition.

This is one of many battles in which the colorful Angus Og, Lord of the Isles, worked side by side as one of Bruce’s most loyal supporters. It was his fleet that transported his own Islemen and Bruce’s warriors. Half the fleet, under Angus Og, sailed around and up the western shore of Kintyre, into the southern Sound of Jura where Lame John’s fleet lay. (fact check) At the same time, Bruce’s men sailed up the eastern shore of the peninsula, where there is no outlet.

Toward the north of Kintyre, however, is East Loch Tarbert. Bruce’s men sailed into East Loch Tarbert, and from there, constructed either a gangway of planks, or a series of logs, which acted as rollers. When this was done, the men hauled the galleys, with ropes, up onto the rollers, and between pulling and opening the sails to catch the wind, Bruce sailed a mile overland, into West Loch Tarbert. From there, presumably with men exhausted from days of rowing, chopping, and hauling ships, Bruce sailed into the north of the Sound of Jura.

Part of the genius of Bruce’s plan, even apart from the element of surprise– there was no waterway to allow ships to surprise John from the north– was that it played on an old superstition. In 1098, Magnus Barefoot, King of Norway, had done the same thing. Among the Islemen, it was believed that when their enemy once again sailed overland like Magnus Barefoot, they would be conquered. It had much the same effect as re-enacting an Arthurian legend to beat down the enemy’s morale. It also would most likely have boosted the morale of his own men, who must have been exhausted by this point.

In the words of John Barbour, medieval author of The Brus: “For they knew by an old prophecy that whoever should have ships go between those seas with sails would so win the Isles for himself that no one could withstand him by force.  Therefore, they all came to the King and none withstood his commands apart from John of Lornalone.”  (Of course, he said it in medieval Englys.)

Lame John’s fleet was now caught between Angus Og coming up from the south and Robert Bruce coming down from the north.  Between the clear military problem and the superstitions of his men, John of Lorn had little chance.  Nigel Tranter paints a colorful picture of the event, describing it as taking place in the few hours of near dark at Midsummer’s Night, with torches lighting up close to the water, along the lines of Bruce’s and Angus Og’s galleys to signal one another, and John driving his fleet hard to the west, trying futilely to escape the trap. 

The battle in the Sound of Jura was over swiftly, the isles completely under the power of Robert Bruce and Angus Og, and John of Lorn not to live many months beyond that event.

20 Oct 2009
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Posted in Authors, Clan History, Great Figures of Medieval Scotland, Medieval Weapons and Warfare, Robert the Bruce, Scottish History, Uncategorized | 1 Comment »

Fighting Saints– We’re Not Talking Sports

A modern saying is there are no atheists in foxholes.  I would assume that’s true.  But it is interesting to look at the confluence of warfare and religion in modern times, a very different situation than we have today.

In medieval times, there was, I believe, a much deeper and more widespread trust in saintly and heavenly intercession.  The Battle of Lepanto, for instance, which marked the end of the Crusades, is associated in many minds, with the Rosary.  On the morning of October 7, 1571, Don John, son of Emperor Charles V, sailed his fleet into battle, despite all military and weather factors being against him.  On his ship, he carried an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe– an event which had happened only 40 years before this.  And as Don John prepared for battle, Pope Pius V, with many others, was praying the Rosary for him, back at the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore.  Don John’s 65,000 men, themselves, recited the Rosary for three hours prior to attacking.  The end of the story is that the wind suddenly changed– inexplicably and mysteriously, according to witnesses– and Don John went on to an incredible victory, which he credited entirely to the intercession of Mary.

I was recently give the book ”By Sword and Fire: Cruelty and Atrocity in Medieval Warfare” by Sean McGlynn.  (It was my birthday present.  Men, please make note of this.  Your wives and girlfriends will love this book!  Seriously.)  Mr. McGlynn makes a brief note of the belief in heavenly and saintly intervention.  He notes a number of heavenly interventions:

  • A defendant in the 1170’s credits his victory in trial by battle to having asked the aid of St. Thomas Becket the Martyr.
  • William Crak, hung for multiple homicides in 1291, asked the help of Thomas Cantiloupe, bishop of Hereford until 1252, who appears, according to reports, to have brought him back to life.  Thomas Cantiloupe seems to have been a favorite intercessor for those going to the gallows.  (If he had any sense of humor, he’d be interceding for those considering marriage.  There are those pundits, of course, who would equate the two.)
  • Saints Benedict, Ethelreda, and Sexburga are credited with the successful jailbreak of one Bricstan, wrongly imprisoned.

Mr. McGlynn mentions several others, and in contexts which the modern reader might find amusing.  However, the point is, saints were much more routinely invoked and credited with intercession in medieval days than they are now.

Some of the interesting stories I’ve come across, pertaining specifically to the times and people of the Blue Bells Trilogy, are the story of St. Bee’s, a parish in England, which comes up in The Minstrel Boy (Book 2 of the Trilogy), and the story of Robert the Bruce carrying relics with him into the battle of Bannockburn.

St. Bee’s is a beautiful, twelfth century abbey in York, England.  The story behind the name is that one St. Bega, an Irish princess, fled Ireland to escape marriage to a Viking prince.  Meeting Lord Egremont, she requested land to found a nunnery.  He granted her a cruel promise that Midsummer’s Day: he would give her all the land covered by snow on the following morning.  The last laugh was on Lord Egremont, as the next morning– a day in late June– three miles of his land was covered by snow.  Interestingly, St. Bee, or St. Bega, whichever you prefer, is associated with another miracle also involving snow.

Robert the Bruce is reputed to have been a devout Catholic.  He carried the relics of two different saints into battle, and invoked the names of several others.  The BBC page on the Battle of Bannockburn recounts how Bruce brought the Monymusk Reliquary, or the Breccbennach, which contained the relics of St. Columba, into battle.  On the morning of the battle, the entire Scots army, some five to six thousand, knelt before the barefoot and blind Abbot Maurice of Inchaffrey for Mass and final absolution before facing death.  Bruce himself invoked the aid of St. Andrew, the patron saint of Scotland, St. Thomas Beckett, and John the Baptist, on whose feast day the battle of Bannockburn occurred. 

By far the most interesting story, however, is the story of St. Fillan, a follower of St. Columba, and Robert Bruce.  The priest who had charge of the relics, afraid for the safety of one of Scotland’s treasures, was hesitant to bring them to a battle against the reputed ‘largest army the world had ever seen’ of Edward II.  So he brought only the silver case that usually carried the arm bone.  (As an aside, St. Fillan had one of the more interesting left arms in the history of mankind.  I will cover that in a later post.) 

On the evening before battle, Bruce stayed in his tent in prayer to God, and imploring St. Fillan, too, for his intercessory prayers before God.  As he prayed, there came a great crack of sound and flash of light from the reliquary, and the silver case flew open, showing the armbone of St. Fillan.  The priest in charge of the relics rushed in, and, seeing them, proclaimed a miracle, confessing to the Bruce that he had left the armbone itself behind in safety.

4 Oct 2009
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Posted in Faith, Medieval Weapons and Warfare, Robert the Bruce | 7 Comments »