0 The first enduring historical novel for children

by Deborah Swift

1911 edition

I am in the middle of writing the second part of The Highway Trilogy for young adults (and adults!) which is set in the English Civil War. One of the characters spends a long time hiding in the forest  - in a similar fashion to Robin Hood, and I was reminded of The Children of the New Forest by Captain Marryat, a book that has been adapted for TV no less than three times.

The Children of the New Forest was one of the first historical novels specifically written for a young audience. I loved the book as a child, but my memory of it was hazy so I bought a copy and dived in. Immediately I was struck by the fact that this book, although being about children, was not necessarily tailored to meet their needs. The vocabulary is sophisticated - lands are 'sequestered', 'appellations' are used. Marryat could so easily have chosen simpler words like 'removed' or 'names'.

Of course some of the language is archaic because Captain Marryat was a contemporary of Dickens and The Children of the New Forest was written in 1847, but it seems that the idea of children as being somehow a separate species with different reading needs did not exist then. Although we think of Dickens' books as 'historical' they were actually contemporary to him - Marryat on the other hand, has written a genuine historical from 200 years before him. Did he adapt his Victorian language to make it sound more seventeenth century? We will never know.

1998 BBC TV series

The novel exemplifies the class structure of the era in which it was written - servants call young boys 'sir' if they are of a better class, and girls are expected to cook and clean, whilst the boys hunt. However what is clear from the book is that having a certain status also brings with it great responsibility - the young boys feel obliged to protect and take care of their sisters, and their servants, in a way which is quite touching. The eldest boy is very concerned with his family house - his 'inheritance' - which he fears he has lost. Of course for the historical novelist these are obvious ideas, but I urge you to try this book because it is threaded so completely with these attitudes it really helps to understand the 'feeling' of that sort of society, and how it affects everything in the narrative.

Lymington, Hampshire, where the book is set

Another difference from more modern historical novels for children is the attitude towards food. Very few children's books would now contain imagery of a thirteen year old boy shooting a stag in the head at point blank range until it 'fell down dead', and then show him disembowelling it. In those days, animals were meat, and did not have the sentimental attachment we accord them now. And of course we are expected to applaud his skill, not feel sorry for the stag.

The narrator is very obvious in the novel. He stops the narrative every now and then to explain,

'What is a Leveller?' thought Jacob.
As perhaps my readers might ask the same question they must know that a large proportion of the Parliamentary army had at the time assumed the name of Levellers ' etc

He goes on to explain for another half page! This sort of obvious narration is much out of fashion now, but it works perfectly well in the book. We might call it an 'information dump', but it works because it is very clear that we are leaving the story whilst we get educated!

Craig Kelly in the TV adaptation

The plot is an exciting tale of adventure and young love, full of misunderstandings and traitorous deeds, and tension between the rival factions of Cavaliers and Roundheads.
Clips on Youtube
Download and read Children of the New Forest for Free - Project Gutenberg

Shadow on the Highway - the first in the trilogy about real-life highwayman Lady Katherine Fanshawe, and set in exactly the same period as Children of the New Forest - is out now.

What is your favourite Children's Historical Novel?
(apologies, US readers, I just can't get used to leaving out the 'u' in favourite!)

Detail: The first enduring historical novel for children

0 The Aristocracy in England

by Evelyn Tidman

While researching my new seventeenth century novel (as yet unnamed) which is a sequel to For The King, I was surprised to discover that events were governed largely by the aristocracy and ‘gentry’ as Roger L’Estrange refers to them, he being a member of that class himself. He uses phrases such as ". . . Rochester, more particularly prepared, by the prudence and example of the gentry there engaged . . ." and " . . . your soldiery was so zealous and your gentry so cautious . . ."

So what, exactly was the role of aristocrats in England during the seventeenth century?

Today, in a largely ‘classless’ society, the term ‘aristocracy’ or ‘nobility’ has little meaning. Dukes, lords and knights have little to do with the lives of ordinary people. Indeed, many view the aristocracy as a privileged class who have inherited wealth, land and titles without working for it. Many see it as an unfair system, dating back to the mists of history. However, during the first world war, and also to some extent in the second, many of the officers in the armed forces were from the nobility.

To us it may seem archaic. Why should someone born to privilege be considered capable of commanding a battalion when a member of the lower orders were not? Are they more knowledgeable than the rest of us mere mortals? More intelligent? Today, education has become the great leveller, putting university education within the theoretical reach of all, but it was not always the case.

The word ‘aristocracy’ comes from the Greek, the product of the thinking of philosophers Plato and Aristotle. It literally means ‘rule of the few best’ that is, the morally and intellectually superior governing the interests of the entire population.

Gainsborough Old Hall, medieval manor house,
built by Sir Thomas Burgh 1460-1480

In England during the Middle Ages, the king owned the whole country. However, as one man, he could not govern the whole lot on his own. So he conferred land, or ‘manors’ on certain ones known as ‘barons’ or lords. Hence the term ‘lord of the manor’. Each baron had to swear allegiance to the king, to fight for him, raise an army for him, and also pay him rent for his manor. He also gave the king advice, thus helping him to govern.

In their turn, the barons had knights and fiefs and gave them manors. The knights supported and served the lords and fought for them for between forty and sixty days a year. Beneath the knights were the serfs or villeins, the ordinary people, who served the knights, worked the land, paid rent in money and kind to the knights, and the men of which served as soldiers when required. In turn the peasants were allowed land to live on and work and were given firewood and grazing rights on the common.

The landowner was responsible for his people, particularly for law and order and the dispensing of justice. In times of famine, the landowner should see that his people survived. He was also the justice of the peace. It was a practical system which seemed to work when the lord was a fair and just man. If he were not, then, of course, it was open to abuse.

This system of government continued throughout the centuries, and the king continued to grant lands and new titles to men who had assisted him. By the time of the seventeenth century, the system had evolved into the government of Britain, the aristocracy having the right to sit in the House of Lords in Parliament. The gentry, often descended from younger sons of the aristocracy, could sit in the House of Commons. However, just as formerly, each lord was responsible for his people.

In my English Civil War novel For The King, when Sir Hamon L’Estrange was arrested on the count of treason and paraded before the people of King’s Lynn for them to choose whether to send him to stand trial, they said: "What be you thinking, Tom Gurlin? Send Sir ’Ammon to Wisbech? Sir ’Ammon who succoured us in distress, fed our children when we lacked bread? We hin’t that lacking in gratitude. Our little’uns hin’t going to blush with shame in remembrance of this day!" Whilst the speech (Norfolk dialect) is fictional, the sentiments are recorded history. It shows how ordinary people viewed their lords and the responsibilities of those lords.

Hunstanton Hall, home of Sir Hamon L’Estrange.
The original medieval hall burnt down in 1850.
The gate house is 15th century, and the wings are 1623.

In times of war, the common people looked to their lords for direction and protection. During the English Civil War, when the New Model Army under Cromwell used violence to keep people in order, the people looked to their lords to solve the problem. They trusted them to lead them into battle and viewed them as men educated for that very task. In turn their lord directed them, called on them to fight with him, but also fed, armed and clothed them and paid them wages out of their own pockets for the duration of their military service, compensating them for their loss of earnings while on the campaign.

Where the common people did not have the contacts nor the understanding of the political goings on at the top, the aristocracy did. They were at the forefront of policies and law-making. Importantly, they knew each other. A network of the nobility stretched across the land strengthened by marriage ties. Common people accepted that they did not have the education, nor the contacts, to understand politics or laws. They left that to the nobility. That was their job, and they were educated accordingly. It is why schools like Eton and Harrow came into existence and why only the sons of the aristocracy could get into university. One of the favoured subjects of education was Law. The aristocracy knew how the system worked.

Of course, no society is perfect, and the nobility under the feudal system were far from perfect. But when decent men acted honourably towards their people, the system worked.

However, the English Civil War challenged the old order. With the murder of King Charles I, England changed forever and began the march to the political system in existence today. When a jumped-up commoner called Oliver Cromwell became Lord Protector and ruled the country instead of the King, it changed the role of the monarchy and therefore the aristocracy. Today, the lord of the manor no longer has any control over the common people unless they be in his direct employment.

Unless, of course, he happens to be a member of the government.

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

Evelyn Tidman is the author of For the King: Roger L’Estrange and the Siege of King’s Lynn, One Small Candle: The Story of William Bradford and the Pilgrim Fathers, and Gentleman of Fortune: The Adventures of Bartholomew Roberts, Pirate, available on Amazon.

www.evelyntidmanauthor.com

Detail: The Aristocracy in England

0 Until death - of loyalty at all costs

by Anna Belfrage

There is a picture in the National Portrait Gallery that I have always been particularly fond of. Originally, I was drawn to it more because of the formal garden in the background than the sitters in the foreground (this was when I was thinking BIG when it came to garden design), but every time I’ve visited the gallery, I have ended up standing a long time before this depiction of a seemingly happy and content family – mainly because they don’t look all that happy. The father looks somewhat shifty (but I love his flashy green stockings), the wife looks worried, and only the toddler leaning against his father’s leg looks alert and relaxed. So, dear readers, today I thought we’d meet the 17th century Capells – and especially Arthur Capell, the pater familias in the picture.

The Capells were relatively new to the world of the hoity-toity. Only a couple generations back, the Capells were merchants, and one William Capel was a London draper, became mayor and laid the foundations of the family fortune. By the time our Arthur was born in 1603, the family was well-to-do landed gentry and had been so for the last eighty years or so, long enough to distance themselves from their tradesmen roots.

Little Arthur grew up as the cosseted heir to a large fortune and as the member of a huge family, seeing as his grandparents had twenty children (and I’m thinking poor, poor woman…). His parents both died while Arthur was young, he spent some time in Cambridge and in 1627 married a young woman called Elizabeth Morrison who brought even more money to the Capell household. Upon the death of his grandfather in 1632, the not quite thirty-year-old Arthur became one of the richest men in England.

Despite all this wealth, Arthur was not much of a material boy. Devout and serious, he was a man for whom words like duty and honour meant something. So when he became an MP, he had a genuine desire to change things for the better – among other things he considered it important to ensure the King acted in accordance with Parliament’s directives. The King, rather obviously, did not agree. After all, Charles I had been raised believing in Divine Right. It is therefore not entirely strange that the first years as an MP, Arthur mostly voted with the Parliamentarians. But as the radicals grew more vociferous (and more radical), Arthur started feeling somewhat queasy. It was one thing to curb the King’s wilful behaviour, another thing entirely to question his authority – or his existence - altogether.

Arthur Capell

The fledgling Parliamentarian began drifting in the direction of more moderate men, and the King, being at times quite astute, made Arthur Baron Capell of Hadham and gave him a seat in the House of Lords – and what a dashing baron he was our Arthur, well over six feet tall and rich enough to flounce around in silks should he feel like it. (He mostly didn’t.) Thus, the former fervent believer in a king ruled by Parliament was seduced into the Royalist camp, and being Arthur, once he had sworn the King fealty, there was no going back. Given the times, this meant our Arthur was in for a long and hard ride, because as we all know, the discord between Parliament and King swelled until it exploded into Civil War.

In 1642 Lord Capell fought at Edgehill as a member of the King’s bodyguard. He had dipped into his considerable riches and equipped an entire regiment at the outbreak of the first Civil War, and he was to dip deeper and deeper into his personal wealth as the fighting progressed. While brave and audacious, creative when needed, it soon became eminently clear that he was not one of those men gifted with the skills required to make a great military leader. He lacked strategic vision and had a tendency to become bogged down in tactics, winning minor skirmishes while losing out in the bigger picture.

So in 1645, Lord Capell was instead sent to Bristol to serve on the council of the Prince of Wales. At this point in time, the previously so wealthy Capell was strapped for cash. His Essex estates were under sequestration, and only the fact that his wife had Parliamentarian connections kept his family in relative safety. In 1646, after fierce fighting in which Capell was wounded, what remained of the Prince’s advisors fled to Jersey and from there to France where the Prince was reunited with his mother.

Charles I

As Lord Capell was uncomfortable in the very Catholic household of Queen Henrietta Maria, he spent the coming months in exile in the Netherlands, but by 1647 he was back home where he was first placed under house arrest. By July he was back at Hadham Hall. Things, it seemed, were over: Parliament was in charge and the King was its prisoner. Well: as we know, Parliament was not exactly a united front, with deep divisions between Independents and Presbyterians. King Charles attempted to exploit this, and in November of 1647 he escaped, making for Isle of Wight.

The King had hoped to be well-received at the Isle of Wight. Instead, he was incarcerated – in comfort – at Carisbrooke Castle. He decided to further deepen the divisions among the Parliamentarians, and in December of 1647 he signed a secret treaty with the Scots: if they supported him, he promised to implement Presbyterianism throughout England for a minimum period of three years. (Good luck with that, one can’t help thinking, but given the way events unfolded, this would never be put to the test.)

In May of 1648, the Royalists rebelled, the Scots army – as per the agreement with Charles I - invaded, and disaffected Parliamentarians took the opportunity to join the fracas. In Essex, things exploded, and Lord Capell felt honour-bound to join the uprising, despite the potential risks to himself and his family. As the New Model Army rose to the challenge, the Royalists took cover behind Colchester’s walls, and just like that, one of the more memorable sieges of the Civil War had begun.

Cromwell

Oliver Cromwell rode north to deal with the Scots, and in Essex, Thomas Fairfax was charged with sorting out the pesky insurgents who had holed up in Colchester. "A walk in the park," I imagine Cromwell saying to Fairfax. "You deal with the pretty boys and I'll go and maul the Scots, okay?"

Initially, Fairfax attempted to breach the town by force. His men charged, were fought off, charged again, and voilá, they’d made it through the gates. A ruse, as it turns out, because suddenly the gates swung shut behind them and the men were trapped, shot at from all directions. It is said our Arthur was one of the men behind the plan. Whatever the case, Fairfax lost very many men that day, the Royalists substantially less.

The Parliamentary forces settled down for a long siege. Having discovered that Lord Capell was one of the leaders, they had his sickly son brought over from Hadham Hall to hold as some sort of hostage, parading him within sight of the city walls. There were loud protests at this behaviour, and the boy was released. I guess his father heaved a sigh of relief. The siege ground on, with the people behind Colchester’s walls soon reduced to eating cats, dogs, rats, leather – well, anything, really. The townspeople attempted to appeal to the Parliamentarian forces for food, but Fairfax was not giving them as much as a loaf of bread as he feared any victuals provided to the civilians would end up with the Royalists.

There were constant skirmishes, leading to loss of life and limb. The Parliamentarian forces ate their way into one Royalist position after the other, and for the men trapped in Colchester, things went from bad to worse, but they dug in and refused to budge, hoping the Scottish Army would succeed in trouncing Cromwell's army. Unfortunately for our trapped Royalists, it wasn’t Cromwell who hit the dust at the Battle of Preston. Instead, the entire Scottish Army was vanquished and the Second Civil War was thereby over – well, except for the stubborn men in Colchester.

Handsome Fairfax

In Colchester, the news were received in silent despair. Hungry and outnumbered, the only thing the besieged men could hope for was generous terms for their surrender – but frankly, in the present situation Fairfax had no reason to be generous. All he had to do was wait.  However, Black Tom Fairfax was a pragmatic man, less interested in spilling Royalist blood than in establishing some sort of peace, which is why he offered the common men quarter, while the “Lords and Gentlemen” who had led the uprising had to surrender unconditionally, with no guarantees as to how they would be punished.  For the sake of their men, Lord Capell  and his fellow commanders had no choice but to accept Fairfax’ terms, and on the 28th of August 1648 the Royalists capitulated, after more than eleven weeks.

Fairfax disbanded the weakened Royalist troops, hauled two of the commanders before a military court and had them executed at Colchester (which he felt entitled to do as they weren’t peers) and had Lord Capell and his remaining companions dragged off to stand trial for treason. None of the captured men held any hopes about coming out of this alive.

For some months, Arthur languished in the Tower. Meanwhile, the King was desperately attempting to negotiate some sort of truce, but while a majority of Parliament wanted to find a solution, Oliver Cromwell didn’t. In his opinion, the king was a tyrant and a danger to permanent peace – and the King’s recent secret agreement with the Scots proved his point. In early December of 1648, Oliver and his comrades “purged” the Parliament of those considered too lenient vis-à-vis the King. The remaining MP’s, the so called Rump Parliament, voted to indict the King for treason. A very novel – and shocking – approach.

As we all know, Charles I was found guilty and beheaded. Arthur Capell did not have to witness the death of his king – but he was more than aware that a second court was being convened, and that one of the defendants would be him. So Capell did what any man would have done, he escaped. Now, it may be worthwhile to point out that very, very few have escaped the Tower. But Arthur somehow got himself over the walls, jumped into the moat – and nearly drowned in the mud. Only his uncommon height saved him.

Ultimately, his burst of freedom was short-lived. He was recaptured in Lambeth, stood trial and was, as expected, found guilty. On March 9, 1949, he was beheaded in the Westminster Palace Yard. After he was well and truly dead, his head was sewn back on his body and his remains were dispatched to Hadham Hall to be buried – minus his heart, which at a future date would be presented to Charles II. I assume his wife wept, not only for her husband, but also for her family, now in substantially reduced circumstances. But that, sadly, was how life was during the Civil War and its immediate aftermath.

Eleven years later, Charles II was restored to the throne. And in 1661 Arthur Capell’s eldest son (also named Arthur) was made Earl of Essex, his father’s estates restored to him. A gesture, I believe, made more on behalf of the man who died for his king than for the son. Whatever the case, the Capells were back on top. And as to Arthur Capell Junior, well, I do believe he deserves a post of his own!

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

Anna Belfrage is the successful author of seven published books, all of them part of The Graham Saga. Set in 17th century Scotland, Virginia and Maryland, this is the story of Matthew Graham and his wife, Alex Lind - two people who should never have met, not when she was born three centuries after him.

Anna's books are available on Amazon US,  Amazon UK, or wherever else good books are sold.
For more information about Anna and her books, please visit  her website. If not on her website, Anna can mostly be found on her blog.

Detail: Until death - of loyalty at all costs

0 The Diggers - England's Early 'Commune'

by Deborah Swift

The Diggers were the first group of people to try and live in what we would nowadays call a ‘commune.’ Led by Gerrard Winstanley, the movement began in Cobham in England in 1649, but rapidly spread to other parishes in the southern area of England.

Scene from a film about Winstanley's life 'Winstanley'

The Diggers were one of a number of alternative factions that sprang up during the English Civil War which was a period of intense social and religious conflict. In the country, many of the gentry shut up their houses during the war and fled to London, leaving their servants and staff with no employment. Some turned to the warring factions of the army, but others, outraged at seeing the land left uncultivated and falling to ruin, began to question the ownership of the land. The situation was made worse by the fact that woodlands were felled to build blockades, and bands of undisciplined soldiers would plunder and steal foodstuffs, leaving country people with no stores, no winter fuel, and the prospect of fields with crops left to rot.


Gerrard Winstanley was the author of a number of religious tracts, and wanted to revivify the ideal of community life. The Diggers advocated equality for all, even equality between men and women, which was viewed as a radical idea in the seventeenth century. Their ideas also included the sharing of all goods and property, the replacement of money with bartering, and the ability to worship freely in whatever way one chose.

Winstanley's words on a modern banner

The name ‘The Diggers’ came from Winstanley’s belief that the earth was made to be ‘a common treasury for all’, and that all should be able to dig it, and provide themselves with what was necessary for human survival – food, warmth and shelter. The Diggers made several unsuccessful attempts to build houses in different locations, but were suppressed by the land-owning classes and dispersed by force, and the communities wiped out. Their most famous colony was on St Georges Hill.

Although the Diggers were a short-lived movement, their ideas had a far-reaching effect, sowing the seeds of communal living and self-sufficiency for future generations.

Shadow on the Highway (about highwaywoman Lady Katherine Fanshawe and her maid Abigail) includes several characters who are Diggers. I thought that the teen of the 1640's would be attracted by their ideals and their vision of a new future different from the one their parents had.

Shadow on the Highway is out now published by Endeavour Press
(ebook and paperback)

If you want to know more about the Diggers, the film 'Winstanley' (old but good) is available to watch on Youtube, or for the more academically inclined I recommend 'Brave Community' by John Gurney.

Detail: The Diggers - England's Early 'Commune'