#august ruthven my beloved

[neversetyoufree]

So I finally got around to reading The Vampyre today, and

Apparently Mochizuki pulled more from Polidori's Ruthven than just his name.

[weavingthetapestry]

9th September 1543- Coronation of Mary I of Scotland

On 9th September 1543, the coronation of Mary I of Scotland took place in the Chapel Royal of Stirling Castle. An infant of barely nine months, she had been recognised as the kingdom’s next monarch at just six days old, after the premature death of her father King James V, leaving no other legitimate heirs of his body. She had been described as queen of Scotland in most official government documents since, but her official coronation was preceded by nine months of political intrigue and tension, culminating in a double-edged triumph for the faction led by her mother, Mary of Guise, and Cardinal Beaton.

The little queen had been resident in Stirling for just over a month. At the end of July 1543, her mother, the dowager queen Mary of Guise, supported by Cardinal Beaton along with the Earls of Huntly, Argyll, Lennox, Bothwell, Sutherland, Menteith, lords Erskine, Ruthven, Fleming, Crichton, Drummond, Lisle, Hume, the bishops of Moray, Orkney, Galloway, Dunblane, and several thousand others, had finally succeeded in removing her from her birthplace in the palace of Linlithgow. This was achieved in the face of opposition from the Governor of Scotland, James Hamilton, Earl of Arran. Arran was the infant queen’s 27 year old cousin and the official head of the Scottish government as regent and the next in line to the throne. As he was then pursuing a pro-English policy, and also had reason to view both the dowager queen and Cardinal Beaton as rivals, in early 1543 he had had the Cardinal arrested and forbade Mary of Guise to leave Linlithgow for the greater protection of Stirling. However, following the Cardinal’s escape and the return of the Earl of Lennox from France in 1543, the opponents of the Governor (or at least the opponents of his policy in favour of an alliance with England) gathered an army and marched on Linlithgow. After several days of stalemate and negotiation, with the army sitting outside the palace walls, Arran had been forced to climb down and allow the little queen and her mother to leave.

The sudden flitting of the queen was an even greater source of displeasure to Henry VIII of England when he heard of it, as the English king had not only wished to marry her to his son the Prince of Wales, but had also wanted the queen to be kept in England until the marriage could take place. This would have served as a useful means of keeping the Scots in check, and anyway, despite their promises, he certainly did not trust her French mother to follow through with the English marriage, much less the wily pro-French and militantly Catholic Cardinal Beaton. Linlithgow would have suited Henry better as then there was at least a chance that one of the Scottish nobles he had attempted to suborn, or even an English invasion, would have been able to abduct the young queen from the beautiful, yet low-lying and relatively unprotected lochside palace. Stirling Castle was another matter entirely: perched on its high rock with a commanding view of the surrounding country, its Renaissance embellishments had not diminished its status as a formidable fortress, the veteran of many bitter Anglo-Scottish conflicts. Nevertheless, Henry VIII could live in hope. The Treaty of Greenwich might yet be ratified to his satisfaction, and the Scottish nobles who favoured alliance with the English king, whether for political or religious reasons, had managed to bring the Governor Arran round to his point of view, which lent their policy official authority.

(An engraving of the Earl of Arran in his later years,  and probably his most famous picture, which tends to obscure the age he was when he became Regent. Not my picture)

But any plan which rested on the consistent cooperation of the chronically indecisive Governor Arran could hardly be called secure. The Governor was already under pressure from his half-brother John Hamilton, Abbot of Paisley, an ardent Catholic who had recently returned from abroad and set about putting the fear of god into his pliable younger sibling over Arran’s recent support of Protestantism. Meanwhile the mood of the country was also shifting, and the English alliance was becoming increasingly unpopular, not least due to the disturbing effects of religious unrest in Scotland and Henry VIII’s not so thinly veiled intimidation tactics. Arran’s allies soon had reason to become wary of his behaviour and watched his movements closely. On 1st September 1543, the English Ambassador Sir Ralph Sadler wrote to his king and said of the Governor that, “he abides not long in one mind, and Sir George Douglas tells me that he much fears the Governor’s revolt, now that things grow to extremity, and that there is a great likelihood that this division will not be ended nor exterminated but by the sword. The Governor is so afraid, of so weak spirit, and faint hearted, that (...) he fears he will never abide the extremity of it, but will rather slip from them and beastly put himself into the hands of his enemies, to his own utter confusion.”

The Earl of Arran’s anxiety was perhaps understandable. He might have feared for his position as governor if the Stirling lords decided to choose a different governor at the coronation, as the event could serve as a major political coup for Cardinal Beaton and the dowager queen. Or perhaps it was the presence of the Earl of Lennox at Stirling which disturbed Arran as Lennox had a rival claim to be next in line to the throne. Perhaps, indeed, as Marcus Merriman argues, Arran was acting with uncharacteristic farsightedness, seeing that the collapse of the English marriage was inevitable almost immediately after the queen’s removal to Stirling, and yet delaying his defection long enough to put off English invasion until the harvest had been brought in and the best time for campaigning had passed. Although Arran ratified the Treaty of Greenwich which promised Queen Mary’s hand to Henry VIII’s son on 25th August 1543, this was to be the high watermark of his active support for the English alliance. Despite the English king’s last-ditch offer of a marriage between his daughter, Princess Elizabeth, and Arran’s son, and despite the careful watch set by his former allies and the blandishments of his own wife Margaret Douglas, Arran changed sides in the first week of September. On Monday 3rd September, he slipped away to Blackness Castle on the Forth, claiming that his wife was in labour there. But the next morning Arran departed from the castle again, leaving Margaret weeping tears of rage at his inconstancy, and he soon covered the ten miles or so to Lord Livingston’s residence at Callendar House, on the edge of Falkirk. There he met with the wily Cardinal Beaton and the Earl of Moray (the infant queen’s uncle), and after long discussion accompanied them back to Stirling that night. 

(An eighteenth century copy of a portrait of David Beaton, Archbishop of St Andrews and Cardinal. Not my picture)

With the Governor’s ‘revolt’ accomplished, there was much to be discussed between Arran and his new, if not exactly beloved, allies. Arrangements had to be made for the secure keeping of the queen’s person during her time at Stirling, and also for the bairn’s coronation which was set for the coming Sunday, the 9th of September. Letters were sent to those recalcitrant Scottish nobles who- whether for reasons of religion, sound policy, or personal gain- had favoured the English marriage, asking them to attend the coronation. And there was spiritual work to be done as well: the lords at Stirling having agreed that Arran was “accurst” , it was determined that he should do penance for his previous flirtation with Protestantism. This was performed on Saturday the 8th of September in Stirling Greyfriars, when the earls of Bothwell and Argyll held the ‘towel’ over the humbled Governor’s head as the Cardinal and other bishops solemnly absolved him of his sin.

The coronation was due to take place early the next day, and the inner close of Stirling Castle must have been a hub of activity that September morning. The Chapel Royal, in which the event was to be held, stood on the north side of the close, forming a quadrangle with the King’s Old Buildings to the west, the magnificent Great Hall constructed by James IV to the east, and the mint-new royal palace (begun by Queen Mary’s father James V and to be completed by her mother over the next few years) standing to the south. The Chapel itself stood a little to the south of the current chapel (built by Mary’s son James VI in 1594) which now occupies the spot. It had been founded by James IV in 1501 and would witness several royal christenings and other notable events over the course of its short history. Perhaps most poignantly, it had also been the site of the coronation of Mary’s father James V, almost thirty years earlier in September 1513. This was the so-called ‘Mourning Coronation’ and the king on that occasion had also been little more than an infant. Had anyone called to mind this other coronation thirty years later, they might also have realised that the 9th of September 1543 was itself a significant date, being the thirtieth anniversary of the disastrous Battle of Flodden. This battle had caused the death of the new queen’s grandfather King James IV (also the Earl of Moray’s father and Huntly’s grandfather), her uncle Alexander Stewart who was one of Cardinal Beaton’s predecessors as Archbishop of St Andrews, the grandfathers of the earls of Lennox and Argyll, the father of the Earl of Bothwell, and countless other Scots of all classes. If anyone noticed this singularly inauspicious date however, it does not seem that it was allowed to throw a sombre shadow over proceedings.

(The only view I could find of most of the Inner Close of Stirling Castle- James V’s palace is to the right, James IV’s Great Hall in the centre, and on the left can be seen parts of the current Chapel Royal, built in 1594 by Mary’s son James VI almost on the same site as the Chapel Royal where she was crowned. Not my picture.)

Not much is known about the details of the coronation itself, which took place around ten o’clock in the morning, once the assembled lords and ladies had filed into the Chapel Royal. The Treasurer’s Accounts are unusually silent about the occasion, though it was probably carried out with as much propriety and careful observance of etiquette as was possible given the circumstances. We do know that Cardinal Beaton presided over the ceremony, and that the Earl of Arran bore the Crown, the Earl of Lennox the sceptre, and the Earl of Argyll the sword. These precious royal items- now known as the Honours of Scotland and still to be seen in Edinburgh Castle- each had their own story. The sceptre and sword had been gifted to King James IV by two separate popes, while the crown was of dubious but likely ancient origin (give or take a few meltings) possibly stretching back to the days of Robert Bruce, and it had been refashioned as recently as 1540 on the orders of Mary’s father. A heavy crown for a bairn, it was probably held above her head. There is a tradition that the infant queen cried all through the ceremony but otherwise the coronation went off without a hitch. 

In terms of coronation festivities, it must be said that even when taking into account the natural bias of the English ambassador, and the fact that he was not at the coronation himself (being unable to stray far from his house in Edinburgh without fear of the mob), it is hard to disagree with his assertion that Queen Mary was crowned, “with such solemnity as they do use in this country, which is not very costly”. There were to be no ceremonial entries, no elaborate pageantry such as had been planned for the coronations of James V’s consorts in the 1530s. As with most other recent Scottish coronations, which had a funny little knack of coming at the worst possible moment to kings who had hardly reached knee height, simple dignity was probably the order of the day. The late-sixteenth century writer Robert Lindsay of Pitscottie does state that the guests retired after the coronation and occupied themselves in dancing and merry-making however, so possibly there was more cheer than the records indicate. 

There was also no escaping from the harsh reality of the political situation. This coronation had been a political triumph for Cardinal Beaton and Mary of Guise and their supporters, but there were notable absences, not least the Earls of Glencairn, Cassilis and Angus, Lord Maxwell and the other lords still considered to be of the ‘English’ party. And there would have to be a reckoning with the king of England as well, especially after the Treaty of Greenwich was finally overturned by the Scottish parliament in December 1543. The events of 1543 would lead to the devastating period of Anglo-Scottish warfare which is nicknamed ‘the Rough Wooing’, and as a result of this, within five years of her coronation, the Queen of Scots was sent away from her kingdom to the safety of France. She would not return for thirteen years.

(Mary I in childhood, as painted by Clouet. Not my picture)

Selected references:

Acts of the Parliaments of Scotland

“Acts of the lords of council in public affairs, 1501-1554: Selections from the Acta dominorum concilii”, ed. R.K. Hannay

“Scottish Correspondence of Mary of Lorraine”, ed. Annie Dunlop

“Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic of the Reign of Henry VIII”, Volumes 17 and 18, ed. James Gairdner and R. H Brodie.

“The Hamilton Papers”, Vol. II, ed. Joseph Bain

The various histories of John Leslie, George Buchanan, Robert Lindsay of Pitscottie and John Knox- all of which can be found online but as only Lindsay was really useful, forgive me for not citing them properly here

“Mary of Guise”, by Rosalind Marshall

“Mary Queen of Scots”, by Antonia Fraser

“The Rough Wooing”, by Marcus Merriman

“Glory and Honour”, by Andrea Thomas

“Life of Mary Queen of Scots”, by Agnes Strickland (I hate admitting it but I do have to credit her)

And others

[neversetyoufree]

Why does Ruthven hate Vanitas?

I don't think that Ruthven does especially hate Vanitas. He doesn't like him, and he definitely sees him as a threat, but those are not the same as actual hate.

When we first see Vanitas and Ruthven interact, it's at the bal masqué when he interrupts Veronica. There, he asks Vanitas if he just killed multiple vampires (since he was accused of doing so). Vanitas says yes, Ruthven goes to hurt him as punishment for this, and then he stops when Noé intercedes. That's a pretty rational interaction, given how things between Vanitas and unfamiliar vampires tend to go.

After that, when things really go wrong between them, it's because Vanitas pulls his whole "ask to see the queen" routine in Ruthven's study. Ruthven is hiding the queen's real status from the world, and he seems to be part of (and possibly heading) some kind of grand plan that includes keeping her status hidden as an integral part. He's connected to Naenia, after all.

So because of Ruthven's plans and secrets involving the queen, Vanitas asking those questions and being able to get evidence that there's something Up with her makes him a huge threat. The fact that he has that knowledge, as well as the fact that he obviously has the skill and motivation to possibly ferret out other things Ruthven wants hidden make him a real wrench in Ruthven's plans. Having defenses against Vanitas (and/or just taking him out entirely) is now practical necessity for whatever scheme Ruthven is up to.

But that's not a personal hatred. That's (from the perspective of someone up to an evil scheme) quite reasonable.

Since that point, what we've seen of Ruthven has all been from the motivation of trying to handle Vanitas as a threat. He meets with Noé to gain perspective on their relationship and uses the oath as a way to set up Noé as a game piece for use against either Vanitas or The Shapeless One. Then, it's implied that he may have had a hand in Vanitas going to Gévaudan, and that he did so to keep him away from some other scheme Ruthven had.

Ruthven pretty clearly has an emotional reaction to Noé, since he reminds him so much of his younger self, and those feelings inform his choices for how to treat him. Vanitas, on the other hand, is just a problem to be taken care of.

[neversetyoufree]

I have not stopped thinking about The Vampyre since I read it, so here's some extra trivia for y'all about Lord Ruthven's name:

VnC's Lord August Ruthven is, of course, named after the Lord Ruthven from the short story "The Vampyre." Written by John William Polidori and published in 1819, "The Vampyre" is often cited as the first piece of true modern vampire fiction. It makes sense for Mochijun to want to reference something so genre-founding.

However! The circumstances surrounding this short story (and thus the Ruthven character) are both deeply weird and deeply fascinating.

For starters, do y'all know the famous story about how Frankenstein was written? It started as a challenge between friends stuck inside due to bad weather—write a frightening story for everyone's entertainment. Mary Godwin (soon to be Mary Shelley) and her future husband Percy Shelley were there, of course, but so were the poet Lord Byron and his personal doctor: a man named John Polidori.

While Mary penned the beginning of one of the most famous books in history, Byron's own attempt at horror was abandoned partway through. He wrote a fragment of a novel about an aristocratic vampire and a foolish young man that traveled with him to Turkey, but he never inteded to finish it. However, after learning how Byron thought the tale would end, Polidori eventually came to write his own (complete) version of a similar plot.

The Vampire in Byron's fragment went by the name of Augustus Darvell, but for the majority of "The Vampyre," Polidori's titular monster calls himself Lord Ruthven. This name comes from the novel Glenarvon by Lady Caroline Lamb, a book that openly parodied and mocked Lord Byron (Lamb's ex lover) with its main character.

Now, why did Polidori name the monstrous, cruel, almost parasitic monster in his story after a parody of his patient and boss? That's because their relationship was deeply fraught. I am not the person to speak accurately on this history, so let it suffice to say that Polidori did not have a rose-colored image of Lord Byron.

Byron was famously promiscuous and often in terrible debt. He doesn't seem to have been particularly nice to his doctor. If you read about their time together in any detail, it becomes obvious why Polidori might feel the urge to mock him as a monster.

Polidori wrote a vampire that seduced, tore through, and ruined innocent young maidens. He wrote this after traveling Europe with a man who was forced to flee England with a rake's reputation and a charge of sodomy. He named his vampire Ruthven, after a caricature of Byron, because his own Ruthven was also based on the man.

In other words, the first finished story to create the modern trope of the aristocratic vampire was in large part a parody of Lord Byron. It is a monster inspired by him and named after a character that existed to sleight him. It is also based on a story that Byron wrote.

And in addition to this being generally fascinating, there's something so fun about this in the context of VnC.

The Case Study of Vanitas is its own story, but it's also so chock full of allusions and references that you could almost call it a pastiche. Half its characters are half-crafted out of pre-existing characters and historical figures, but they're only ever halfway stolen. There's always something new built from the base of the reference.

And in a big way, that's what Polidori did back when he penned the first piece of modern vampire literature. His first vampire was partly a reference to a real man, partly borrowed from a pre-existing story (Byron's fragment), and partly conjured from Polidori's own imagination. It's history and literature and new content all bundled together, just like VnC is.

Lord August Ruthven is a reference to Polidori's Lord Ruthven, who was in turn a reference to Lord Byron. He's named after both Byron's Augustus Darvell and Polidori's Ruthven, and Polidori's Ruthven is named after Lamb's Ruthven (who was also based on Lord Byron). He's yet another layer on this tower of self-referential Ruthven-ness, now totally abstracted from any real Byron traits.

As much as Mochijun is playing with the tropes and ideas of this era of vampire literature, it's really fun to see how her tendency toward allusion and reference is itself a nod back to vampire literature's beginnings. It's another way in which VnC slots in as another link in this 200 year old literary conversation.

Anyway, if you want to learn more about the bonkers story behind the Vampyre, here's a link to a not super scholarly but very entertaining essay about it.

[neversetyoufree]

Is August Ruthven the one who killed or gave the order to kill Jeanne's family?If so,then why did he do that?Jeanne's parents pacted with humans who want "peace" and noble vampires dead.Since August desires peace too it does not sound senseful for him to kill them but he once said he both loved vampires and humans so Jeanne's parents were considered to betray August because August loves noble vampires and do not want them dead.But who on earth forced Jeanne to be executioner and why?If August again,what does executing curse-bearers have to with resolving the war?Was it not August's true faith?And why do humans who want peace who are packed with Jeanne parents want to kill noble vampires even thoughthey want peace they still want to kill noble vampires.Is noble vampires against peace?

Ruthven wasn't the one who gave the order, as far as I can tell. He wasn't yet on the senate at the time, so I don't think he had the authority to have anyone killed.

It's important to keep in mind that the execution of Jeanne's parents and Jeanne's subsequent use as a bourreau are not special cases. Jeanne's parents' crime might have been particularly noteworthy, but the way that they were dealt with seems to be standard. When you commit a severe crime, you're executed and your child/children are made bourreaus. That's just how it is in vampire society.

When we see her being sentenced, we don't see the face of her punisher because it's not important. Her fate is the overall will of the vampire government, not the will of any one person.

However, even though he didn't give the order, we haven't seen any sign of Ruthven being against Jeanne and her parents' fates either, so I do think it's worth asking why that is.

If what Marquis Machina says is true, then Jeanne's parents were not fighting for peace when they betrayed Ruthven. Ruthven gathered a group of vampire aristocrats for peace talks with the humans, and Jeanne's parents' side plotted to kill that assembly. Jeanne's parents and the humans they colluded with didn't want peace. They just wanted to kill important vampires.

You don't kill everyone at a peace talk if you're trying to end a war.

Jeanne's parents might have been helping Ruthven to bring about peace when they were on his side, but when they betrayed him, they betrayed the peace effort. Or at least that's what it looks like right now (and how Ruthven presumably sees things).