#elizabeth monck

[scotianostra]

On 18th December 1661, the ‘Elizabeth of Burntisland’ sank while returning 85 barrels of historic records to Scotland, after Oliver Cromwell removed them from Stirling Castle.

Among the state documents that went down with the Elizabeth were charters and records dating back to the reigns of King Robert the Bruce and his son King David II.

But why were these important historic documents being shipped north from London in a storm? To answer that question we must go back to 1650 and Oliver Cromwell’s military campaign into Scotland.

In 1650, Oliver Cromwell’s New Model Army entered Scotland after the Scottish parliament, led by Covenanters, declared Charles II king. The defending forces were no match for Cromwell’s army of well-trained and well-provisioned professional soldiers. The Scots suffered severe losses as the city and castle of Edinburgh fell.

The Records of Scotland were held in a special register house in Edinburgh. After its capture the state and legal papers were allowed to be moved to Stirling Castle for safekeeping.

The precious archive, however, was not safe for long. In August 1651, Cromwell’s military commander, General Monck, laid siege to Stirling Castle. Monck set up artillery around the castle, including in a nearby churchyard, “whence for three days a fire was kept up causing considerable damage to the Castle.” When the Castle fell, Cromwell’s forces, carried off their ‘spoils of war.’ These included not only the Earl of Mar’s coronet and robes but also the national records.

The records were sent to the Tower of London, Cromwell may have wanted to have all records of his new ‘commonwealth’ in one archive, or he may have wished to demonstrate his power over a subjugated nation. Either way, it became very difficult to bring any legal cases in Scotland with the records in England.

After the restoration of Charles II in 1660, arrangements were made for the records to be returned to Edinburgh. However, a series of ill thought out decisions were to lead to their destruction.

Firstly, the ship carrying the records was due to sail during a period of particularly stormy weather. Secondly, it was well known that the Elizabeth of Burntisland was not the most seaworthy of vessels. Her Captain was reluctant to take the precious cargo. Ultimately, the Elizabeth was loaded with two tonnes of papers stored in 85 barrels.

The Captain’s apprehension was justified when the ship began to take on water off Northumbria. She sank, taking with her barrels of Scottish Royal charters and legal documents, documents whose loss leaves a hole in Scottish archives to this day.

[archaeologyprehistoricstones]

In 1674, some children's bones were found under a staircase in the White Tower in the Tower of London and assumed to be those of the two sons of Edward IV. The remains were brought to Westminster Abbey by order of Charles II and first buried in the vault of General Monck. A white marble sarcophagus to house the bones was designed by Sir Christopher Wren and made by Joshua Marshall, the King's master mason, and the bones were then transferred to this.

The urn is in the north aisle of Henry VII's chapel, near Elizabeth I's tomb. The Latin inscription (written in 1678) can be translated as:

"Here lie the relics of Edward V, King of England, and Richard, Duke of York. These brothers being confined in the Tower of London, and there stifled with pillows, were privately and meanly buried, by the order of their perfidious uncle Richard the Usurper; whose bones, long enquired after and wished for, after 191 years in the rubbish of the stairs (those lately leading to the Chapel of the White Tower) were on the 17th day of July 1674, by undoubted proofs discovered, being buried deep in that place. Charles II, a most compassionate prince, pitying their severe fate, ordered these unhappy Princes to be laid amongst the monuments of their predecessors, 1678, in the 30th year of his reign."

By some accounts, George V agreed to let the bones be examined in 1933, but other sources cite that the archivist of Westminster Abbey, Lawrence Tanner, removed them on his own authority. Professor William Wright and the president of the Dental Association, George Northcroft, joined Tanner in an examination of the bones. It was found that not only were the skeletal remains incomplete, but they were also mixed with the bones of chickens and other small animals. The bones had been severely damaged by the original workers who found them, but by measuring the available bones and teeth, they determined that the bones belonged to two children who would have been the correct ages of the princes. The bones were then wrapped and returned to their urn. This examination has been criticised over the years as being biassed; done with the assumption that the bones were the princes’.

SIDENOTE: The current monarch has never said he would have the bones tested; it was hoped he would as he is interested in archeology. The decision ultimately lies with the monarch, the Dean of Westminster, and the CoE, the last two being vehemently against any disruption to the final resting place of the Princes.

Sources:

www.westminster-abbey.org

Richard III and the princes in the tower, A.J. Pollard

The Princes in the Tower, Alison Weir

https://r3.org/

Source: Facebook

The Tudor Intruders

[naiyar04]

What is the relationship of Ethnicity to the Nation?

The earliest information I could gather about my Mothers side of the family was my Great Grandmothers mother being German. I was not able to learn if she migrated directly from Germany, but I learned that her family was started/based in Hamburg, Germany

My Great Grandmother Elizabeth (Betty) Cobham is my oldest living relative. I could not gather much information about her father, but I did learn that he was of European decent. My Great Grandmother lived in multiple places across New York for over 30 years where she gave birth to my Grandmother. My Grandmother was born in Long Island, New York.

My Great Grandfather was born in North Carolina then moved to New York where he met my Great Grandmother. Unfortunately, I was unable to learn about his family because he decided to venture out into the world and lost connection with a bit of his family. But, I did learn that he was a mix of African America, Italian, and Native American (which, from familial sources, is from his grandfather who was of Native American decent),

My Fathers side of the family is less spread out. According to my grandparents, my Grandfathers family has not left the South in generations. They have traveled around the South before settling in South Carolina. My Grandfathers parents even built their house on the property that my grandparents built their future home years later! (you can still see my great grandparents house on the property)

From the "hush hush" energy I received when asking questions about my family, it was heavily implied that my grandfather is a direct descendant of slaves who lived in the South. Same with my grandmother. They grew up in a segregated south where they were ridiculed and talked down on for being black which is one of the reasons why they built their home in a more secluded and predominantly black area called Moncks Corner

I do not have a concrete time period of how long my family(s) lived in this country, but I know it has been quite a long time.

[ltwilliammowett]

The surrender of Prince Royal at the Four Days Battle, 3 June 1666, by Willem van de Velde the Younger. circa 1666-1670

The construction of the Prince Royal was ordered by King James I and Phineas Pett I was chosen as the designer. Pett and the design of his ship were controversial among contemporaries, so that several investigations were carried out during the construction at the instigation of his opponents. Construction of the ship, which was designed for 55 cannons, began in October 1608. When it was launched in 1610, it was one of the largest ships of its time.  The cannons were placed on three decks. Constructively the Prince Royal was an immediate forerunner of the three-decker ships of the line. In comparison to the following ships of this size, however, relatively few cannons were still set up on the decks. Another feature that distinguished them from newer ships such as the Sovereign of the Seas of 1637 was the gradation of the decks in the aft part of the hull. The Sovereign of the Seas had continuous decks. The size of the front and aft castles of the Prince Royal and the intermediate hollow, which was to serve as a trap for disinheriting enemies, show that considerations of entrapment still played a very important role in the design of the ship. Since the tactic of the keel line had not yet established itself around 1610, it would be an anachronism to call the Prince Royal a liner ship in her early years.  In the course of time the ship was fundamentally rebuilt several times and its artillery armament was strengthened. The dimensions of the hull were increased within certain limits, but the fact that the armament increased disproportionately from 55 cannons in 1610 to 92 cannons in 1666 indicates that the concept of a liner ship with maximum artillery only developed within this period.

The Prince Royal was rigged as a full ship and as such mainly led square sails. An early painting from 1613 shows the ship with a fourth mast (Bonaventure mast). However, this mast was probably removed only a few years later. On the bowsprit there was a sprie mast on which a square sail could be set.

The Arrival of Frederick V of the Palatinate and Elizabeth Stuart in flushing on 29 April 1613, by  Hendrick Cornelisz Vroom, 1623

In 1641 the Prince Royal was rebuilt by Peter Pett in Woolwich and regularly extended to 70 cannons. During the English Commonwealth it was renamed Resolution and fought in most of the battles of the First English-Dutch War.

On 8 October 1652, the Prince Royal took part as a resolution in the Battle of the Sea at Kentish Knock. Admiral Robert Blake switched from the slower but larger Sovereign of the Seas to the faster and more agile Resolution and raised his Admiral flag here. At the beginning of the battle Blake tried to break through the Dutch keel line, but together with the English Dolphin he got too far forward and was surrounded by the enemies. Only by advancing English units both ships could be saved from bigger damages, the sinking or even the capture. The battle ended with a retreat of the Dutch. On 12 June 1653 the resolution took part in the naval battle near Gabbard. The battle began with approximately the same number of ships on both sides and ended with heavy losses for the Dutch, who became easy prey for the English due to a calm. The Dutch lost a total of 22 ships by entry or sinking - the English not a single one.

On 10 August 1653, the resolution took part in the naval battle at Scheveningen. In this battle the Dutch tried to undermine the blockade policy of the English in the English Channel - but in this attempt they lost twelve of their ships due to severe damage or sinking. This and the fact that in the battle the Dutch fleet commander Maarten Tromp had been killed led to a strong moral loss of the Dutch, who finally withdrew. The Dutch attack had been fended off - but at the same time the blockade had to be abandoned due to severe damage to the English ships, so that both sides finally received a positive response to the battle.

In 1660 the resolution was provisionally equipped with 80 cannons. Between 1660 and 1663 a further fundamental repair was carried out in Woolwich under the supervision of Phineas Pett II, increasing the dimensions and tonnage considerably. The armament now consisted of 92 cannons and the ship was classified as a first class ship. It was also renamed Royal Prince. Samuel Pepys was on board when the ship floated up in the dock in July 1663 after the repair had been completed.

In 1665, during the Second English-Dutch War, she served Edward Montagu as flagship in the Battle of the Sea at Lowestoft on 3 June. During these battles, the Dutch succeeded in conquering the Royal Prince, who had already hoisted the Prinsenvlag on the ship. Only by an attack of the English Royal James the crew could be saved from the capture and the ship be recaptured. The Dutch lost 17 ships in this battle by conquest or sinking and altogether nearly 5000 sailors, so that they fled with the remaining ships from the English.

In 1666 the Royal Prince was the flagship of Admiral George Ayscue. The ship also took part in the four-day battle on 11 June 1666, in which Englishmen and Dutchmen faced each other off the coast of England. During the armed conflicts, the English admiral George Monck withdrew on the morning of 13 June with 30 ships ready for battle to the northwest in the direction of the Thames estuary. The Dutch followed him with difficulty and only few fights took place. The Royal Prince, one of the largest English ships of the battle, ran however on a shoal and fell out thus for further tactical maneuvers.

As Dutch Brander approached the stranded ship, the Royal Prince's crew panicked and struck the flag. Admiral Ayscue was forced to capitulate to Lieutenant-Admiral Cornelis Tromp on board the Dutch warship Gouda. On the orders of the Dutch Fleet Commander, Lieutenant-Admiral Michiel de Ruyter, the ship was not kept as a prize, however, but burned so that it could not be recaptured by the English in the further course of the battle.

[ironwrites]

A duchess discovers that the past, present and future does not exist, and goes mad. -@MagicRealismBot (on twitter)

 This story is based on the life (or whatever wikipedia has documented) of Elizabeth Monck, Duchess of Albermarle 

c.1687

“Fiona, have you prepared my dress?” Elizabeth snapped as she scooped a handful of soapy water and poured it over her hair. Normally, she would’ve had three of the servants do it for her, but today she had requested to be left alone. But of course, her trusty handmaiden Fiona was stationed outside the bathroom in case the Duchess required assistance.  “Y-yes, Your Grace. It is already laid out on your bed.”

Elizabeth could sense Fiona flinch at her harsh tone, and she was somewhat proud of herself for having induced that response. As unorthodox as it seemed, that was just her way of showing her affection. After all, Fiona was to be left here at the Jamaican Estate while Elizabeth sailed back to Newcastle with her late husband’s riches (apparently treasure hunting was a lucrative market in Jamaica). She was pretty sure Fiona would miss her sharp orders once she was gone. 

Elizabeth stared out the window, examining the ominous cumulonimbus clouds hovering above. It had been a year since her husband (Christopher that bold man, met his demise while invading a local tribe’s village on one of his treasure hunts, bless his soul) had passed. She thought back to their last adventure together. They were navigating through an untouched portion of the jungle known by the locals as “the Jaguar Lair” (yes they spoke English, don’t look so surprised). Ironically, there were no Jaguars there, but what they did find in abundance was a plant which made growling noises when the wind blew. Perhaps those caused the locals to believe that Jaguars were roaming that area. She smiled fondly at that memory. Elizabeth often questioned if he would have still met his doom if she had accompanied him. Going treasure hunting with him was one thing she would miss dearly. 

However, due to their adventurous streaks, they never quite settled down, and with no children, the Royal powers, (whoever they be, Elizabeth didn’t bother keeping track) decided that it was best if Elizabeth returned to Newcastle to look after the Dukedom, and maybe find a new husband. After all, she did have a strong distaste towards Jamaican men, as detailed in a letter she wrote to her sister, Margaret. She could never understand why they were so into farming. 

After a few moments, Elizabeth climbed out of her copper tub and dried herself off swiftly. She wasn’t going to miss Jamaica. The perpetual heat, the tropical storms, the _bloody mosquitoes. _But what she would miss was the treasure. Even after her dear Christopher’s departure, she would still be brought a piece of treasure every few weeks. Evidently, the treasure hunting company her husband had set up was quite successful. Since her husband’s death, the treasure hunters who once worked alongside him turned to her to decide if the item should be sold or kept (in her possession). Being a duchess had a few perks. 

She’d collected quite a number of treasures she deemed beautiful and important enough to have in her custody. Among them were crowns, gems, pottery and amulets, all of them either dug out from the earth, fished out from lakes, or bartered from shady shamans. 

However, her favourite treasure was probably a wooden box. It doesn’t sound impressive at all, but the Duchess was simply mesmerised by the strange markings on them. It wasn’t until that fateful day when she was about to sail back to England did she decide to open it...

c.1688

“Your grace, your sister has finally arrived, although I should warn you that she has been said by the ship’s crew to be... unstable.” 

“Thank you, Potter. I’m sure it’s just seasickness. Eight weeks onboard a ship is no small thing for a duchess like her.” 

Margaret Holles was one of four other siblings Elizabeth had, but she was by far the dearest. Elizabeth had frequently sent letters to her during her time in Jamaica, and regularly visited her while she was in England. After all, Albemarle and Newcastle upon Tyne were only a few hours’ journey apart. 

Margaret could barely contain her excitement. It had been years since she’d seen her older sister. She had always looked up to her since she was a child. Elizabeth was always pushing her to do and try new things, and Margaret understood that she would definitely not have become the confident Duchess she was now if not for her. 

Elizabeth was accompanied by two of her handmaidens and a squire as she strode into the dining hall. Margaret held her sister in a tight embrace, but Elizabeth was unmoving and distant. “Is something wrong?” Margaret asked, puzzled.

“Enough with the formalities. I’ve learnt much from my adventures in Jamaica, and more than anything, I wish to marry Emperor Kangxi.”

Margaret immediately stepped back and studied her sister’s face. “I know you’re still upset over Christopher’s passing, but don’t you think marrying the Emperor of China is a bit absurd? He doesn’t even know you!”

Upon hearing that, Elizabeth gasped, a hurt look flashed on her face. “How dare you, he obviously knows me. He’s smitten with me!”

Margaret was more perplexed than ever. Elizabeth grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to a corner of the dining hall. “Servants, turn around! This is for Lady Margaret’s eyes only.”

Elizabeth shoved a wooden box into Margaret’s hands and forcefully whispered for her to open it. Margaret, not wanting to agitate her sister, obediently complied. She opened the intricately carved box and looked at her sister quizzically. “Look inside!” Elizabeth hissed.

Margaret stared inside and immediately passed out.

“Haha! Margaret knows the truth now! She’ll be fine, leave us alone. Just help prepare the letter to Father telling him that I want to marry Emperor Kangxi. Yes, right now.” 

The servants passed worried looks among themselves as they heard Elizabeth’s words. However, they had no right to disagree with the Duchess, and could only do as they were told.

“M’Lord, your daughter, Duchess Elizabeth, has sent you a letter.” 

A regal looking man dressed in a black waistcoat and breeches looked up from the manuscript he was reading and took the letter from the squire.

“WHAT? THE EMPEROR OF CHINA!?”

The young squire flinched in terror at the Duke’s sudden outburst. Duke Henry was known for being one of the most patient Members of Parliament during his term of service. The squire would have given his most prized possession - a shield with his family crest, just to know what that letter contained. 

Duke Henry immediately whipped out his quill and started penning a letter. “Robert, get one of the mail boys to send this to Baron Edward Montague.”

The squire nodded and politely took the letter from the Duke’s smooth hands. Hands that have never done hard labor. It took all of Robert the Squire’s self-control to prevent himself from peeking at the letter. Maybe he’d get the Duke to spill the beans during the next Great Feast. The Duke was notorious for drinking way too much for his pathetically low alcohol tolerance level. 

Baron Edward Montague was in the middle of writing a sonnet for Elizabeth when the letter from Duke Henry arrived. “if I were pretty like a blue-ish bird, I’d be a fool to compare me to you...” 

“Baron, a letter from Duke Henry Cavendish of Newcastle,” A burly looking messenger ceremoniously proclaimed, while standing by the doorway. “Alright leave it over here,” 

He looked up from his sonnet to study the frantically scribbled words on the envelope. “Henry must’ve been in a hurry to get this to me,” he thought to himself. He broke the seal and pulled the letter out. 

He broke into a smile as he read its contents. It was a plea from Henry for him to take Elizabeth’s hand in marriage. “Finally!” He thought.

Edward was overjoyed, he had been chasing Elizabeth (and her wealth) even before her husband’s demise (yes a sinful act indeed, don’t tell the bishop), and this felt like a dream come true. However, there was a rather strange condition he had to fulfill. 

“In order to have my daughter’s hand in marriage, you’ll have to dress up as the Chinese Emperor, Kang Xi.”  

Deeply flummoxed, Edward quickly dipped his quill in ink and began writing a letter requesting the Duke to explain himself and to arrange a meeting with his magnificently beautiful, abundantly affluent, albeit extremely queer daughter he had been pining for all these years.

A week later, Ralph found himself sitting across from Elizabeth in her castle grounds, having tea and scones. “So let me get this straight, you are saying that the linear passage of time does not matter, and you saw in a magical box, a vision of the Emperor Kangxi being wed to you?” Ralph could barely believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “Will everyone stop asking me the same questions over and over?! I have already said yes a thousand times over! All I want is to get on board the first ship to China and unless you are the Emperor Kangxi, no I will not marry you!”

Ralph flinched at her harsh tone. As he examined the woman whom he had yearned for all these years, he realized that he would rather die than pass up this opportunity. Even the fact that he would have to dress up as a Chinese Emperor at their wedding was not going to stop him from gaining the love of his life’s hand in marriage. While Elizabeth unintelligibly babbled on about how space and time were almost the same things, Ralph was formulating a devilishly smart plan to get Elizabeth to marry him...

c.1690

“M’lady, your ship is ready,” a skinny servant announced as she bowed her head. Elizabeth, upon hearing those words, ceremoniously got up from the foot of her bed and allowed herself to be ushered to the docks by two burly guards. Upon arriving at the foot of the gangplank, Elizabeth took one last sweeping gaze at the British Isles, the place she had considered to be her homeland, before boarding the large vessel. After all, she expected that in a “multiple sleep’s” time (basically about a year but ever since her revelations about space and time, the only unit of temporal measurement she utilizes is “sleeps”) she would finally be in China to marry her one true love, Emperor Kangxi.

Or so she thought. 

While Elizabeth was busy fantasizing about the supreme ruler of China, the captain and crew were busy charting a course around the British Isles. Actually, 10 rounds. Part of Baron Ralph Montague’s brilliant plan to hoodwink Elizabeth into marrying him was now afoot. Instead of sailing to China, Elizabeth’s ship would just sail 10 rounds around the British Isles, and hopefully she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

In the meantime, while Elizabeth was on her little sailing trip, Ralph had other things to attend to as well. Ralph had recruited the finest tailors in England to make him a robe resembling ones owned by the Emperors of China, craftsmen to make his castle look like that of Kangxi’s imperial palace, chefs to (try to) replicate delicacies of the East, and of course, beauticians to him look like that of Kangxi. All the professionals of their various fields had as reference material were paintings stolen from Dutch sailors (which were in turn stolen from properties in South East Asia), and whatever Marco Polo texts the Italians agreed to sell. 

And thus, the whole town of Newcastle upon Tyne (with some convincing from their neighbour Duchess, Lady Margaret, who truth be told, has no recollection of what she saw in the magic box, and hence agreed that Liz was bonkers) was busy with transforming their busy market town into a pseudo-Peking for their Lord-to-be. 

8 September 1692

The moment Duchess Elizabeth Monck's ship returned from its 10-time-round-tour of the British Isles, 4 enormous escorts ushered Elizabeth from the ship and into a shoulder carriage which was promptly hoisted up once the Duchess was seated comfortably within. In order to ensure that the ruse was not compromised, the shoulder carriage comprised of a bamboo chassis, as well as red silk upholstery and curtains. The 4 escorts also had to don red robes complete with meandering dragons embroidered on, and wear black conical hats. 

After about “a housefly’s journey” (otherwise known as half an hour), Elizabeth could hear the sound of drums, bells, and peasants cheering. She furtively opened the curtains and peered out at the villagers calling out her name. She acknowledged them with a curt nod before withdrawing back into the carriage. How enthusiastic the Chinese proletariat was! She doubted her mean subjects in Newcastle would have even smiled at her. The escorts carried the carriage up the flight of stairs leading to the entrance of the faux Imperial Palace before carefully placing it on the ground and holding the curtains open for the Duchess to exit the carriage. 

Ralph stood in the middle of the newly redecorated throne room with the bishop and awaited Elizabeth’s arrival. The throne room, which was once had walls a dreary shade of stone and a throne of a similar colour, was now draped with red silk banners and lined with imitation Chinese porcelain. Even the throne was decked in red and gold fabric coverings. Ralph hastily took Elizabeth’s hands and pulled her in front of the bishop. 

“We are all gathered here today to-” 

“Wait, you Chinamen speak English?” Elizabeth looked imploringly at the bishop, whose face turned as red as the walls of the room. “Well, uh, well you see I-”

Ralph, having come too far to let some bishop with an acting ability of a pigeon ruin his plans, immediately cut in. “Elizabeth, my dear, I found us the only English speaking priest in China to officiate so we’d both understand what’s going on. Now if you have no other questions, please continue, holy one.” 

"Well now, as I was saying, we are all gathered here today to...” 

The rest of the wedding went on without a hitch, and Ralph and Elizabeth left the throne room after the ceremony hand in hand. Him, donned in a British recreation of what his tailors thought was what Chinese Royal Wedding garments looked like, and her, in a worn, definitely had seen better days, dress. 

And they lived happily ever after for another 42 years (according to Wikipedia), which is equivalent to “a tortoise’s mid-life crisis” (according to Elizabeth).

IM SORRY THIS STORY DIED LIKE 10 PARAGRAPHS AGO

[blprompt]

Image taken from page 7 of 'My Canadian Leaves: an account of a visit to Canada in 1864-1865'

Image taken from: Title: "My Canadian Leaves: an account of a visit to Canada in 1864-1865" Author: MONCK, Frances Elizabeth Owen. Shelfmark: "British Library HMNTS 010470.e.16." Page: 7 Place of Publishing: London Date of Publishing: 1891 Publisher: Bentley & Son Issuance: monographic Identifier: 002525083 Explore: Find this item in the British Library catalogue, 'Explore'. Download the PDF for this book (volume: 0) Image found on book scan 7 (NB not necessarily a page number) Download the OCR-derived text for this volume: (plain text) or (json) Click here to see all the illustrations in this book and click here to browse other illustrations published in books in the same year. Order a higher quality version from here. from BLPromptBot http://ift.tt/2vS2VTh

[scotianostra]

On 18th  December 1661, the ‘Elizabeth of Burntisland’ sank while returning 85 barrels of historic records to Scotland, after Oliver Cromwell removed them from Stirling Castle.

Among the state documents that went down with the Elizabeth were charters and records dating back to the reigns of King  Robert the Bruce and his son King David II.

But why were these important historic documents being shipped north from London in a storm? To answer that question we must go back to 1650 and Oliver Cromwell’s military campaign into Scotland.

In 1650, Oliver Cromwell’s New Model Army entered Scotland after the Scottish parliament, led by Covenanters, declared Charles II king. The defending forces were no match for Cromwell’s army of well-trained and well-provisioned professional soldiers. The Scots suffered severe losses as the city and castle of Edinburgh fell.

The Records of Scotland were held in a special register house in Edinburgh. After its capture the state and legal papers were allowed to be moved to Stirling Castle for safekeeping.

The precious archive, however, was not safe for long. In August 1651,  Cromwell’s military commander, General Monck, laid siege to Stirling Castle. Monck set up artillery around the castle, including in a nearby churchyard, “whence for three days a fire was kept up causing considerable damage to the Castle.”  When the Castle fell, Cromwell’s forces, carried off their ‘spoils of war.’ These included not only the Earl of Mar’s coronet and robes but also the national records.

The records were sent to the Tower of London, Cromwell may have wanted to have all records of  his new ‘commonwealth’ in one archive, or he may have wished to demonstrate his power over a subjugated nation. Either way, it became very difficult to bring any legal cases in Scotland with the records in England.

After the restoration of Charles II in 1660, arrangements were made for the records to be returned to Edinburgh. However, a series of ill thought out decisions were to lead to their destruction.

Firstly, the ship carrying the records was due to sail during a period of particularly stormy weather. Secondly, it was well known that the Elizabeth of Burntisland was not the most seaworthy of vessels. Her Captain was reluctant to take the precious cargo. Ultimately, the Elizabeth was loaded with two tonnes of papers stored in 85 barrels.

The Captain’s apprehension was justified when the ship began to take on water off Northumbria. She sank, taking with her barrels of Scottish Royal charters and legal documents, documents whose loss leaves a hole in Scottish archives to this day.

[full-imagination]

Joanne Villeponteaux Medlock

Joanne Enid Villeponteaux Medlock, 81, of Spartanburg, SC, died Thursday, August 16, 2018, at White Oak Estates. Born August 24, 1936, in Moncks Corner, SC, she was the daughter of the late Edward LeRoy Villeponteaux and Willie Mae Nix Villeponteaux. Joanne was a graduate of Berkeley High School, Rice Business College, and USC Upstate where she received an Associate Degree in Nursing. She also loved Wofford College from which she retired after 27 years as secretary for the Psychology Department. Joanne shared her nursing skills on multiple foreign and domestic medical missions. She was a member of Trinity United Methodist Church where she taught Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, and volunteered in many areas of service. She enjoyed hosting homeless families through SPIHN (Spartanburg Interfaith Hospitality Network). Joanne was a free spirit who brought joy to others with her wit and infectious laugh. In retirement she looked forward to her weekly lunch date with girlfriends whom she called “The Whiney Winos”. Small but strong, under the direction of Paul Fasig, she became expert at putting up sheetrock for Habitat for Humanity. Survivors include her husband of 60 years, Dr. Melvin D. Medlock; children, M. DuBose Medlock Jr. (Darlene) of Lumberton, NC, Janna Trammell (Michael) of Duncan, SC, and Edward K. Medlock of Asheville, NC; grandchildren, Elizabeth Kelly Pope (Dustin), Mayme Elizabeth Medlock, David Trammell, and Kelly Medlock; great-granddaughter, Janette Pope; and brothers, E. L. Villeponteaux and Dale Villeponteaux. In addition to her parents, she was predeceased by a brother, J. R. Villeponteaux. Funeral services will be conducted at 2:00 PM Monday, August 20, 2018, at Trinity United Methodist Church, by The Rev. Neal Woods and The Rev. A. Mickey Fisher. Visitation will follow the service at the church. Memorials may be made to Trinity United Methodist Church, 626 Norwood Street, Spartanburg, SC 29302; the Melvin D. & Joanne V. Scholarship Fund, c/o Wofford College Development Office, 429 North Church Street, Spartanburg, SC 29303; or Spartanburg Regional Home Hospice, PO Box 430, Drayton, SC 29333. Floyd’s North Church Street Chapel from The JF Floyd Mortuary via Spartanburg Funeral

[scotianostra]

On 18th  December 1661, the ‘Elizabeth of Burntisland’ sank while returning 85 barrels of historic records to Scotland, after Oliver Cromwell removed them from Stirling Castle.

Among the state documents that went down with the Elizabeth were charters and records dating back to the reigns of King  Robert the Bruce and his son King David II.

But why were these important historic documents being shipped north from London in a storm? To answer that question we must go back to 1650 and Oliver Cromwell’s military campaign into Scotland.

In 1650, Oliver Cromwell’s New Model Army entered Scotland after the Scottish parliament, led by Covenanters, declared Charles II king. The defending forces were no match for Cromwell’s army of well-trained and well-provisioned professional soldiers. The Scots suffered severe losses as the city and castle of Edinburgh fell.

The Records of Scotland were held in a special register house in Edinburgh. After its capture the state and legal papers were allowed to be moved to Stirling Castle for safekeeping. 

The precious archive, however, was not safe for long. In August 1651,  Cromwell’s military commander, General Monck, laid siege to Stirling Castle. Monck set up artillery around the castle, including in a nearby churchyard, “whence for three days a fire was kept up causing considerable damage to the Castle.”  When the Castle fell, Cromwell’s forces, carried off their ‘spoils of war.’ These included not only the Earl of Mar’s coronet and robes but also the national records.

The records were sent to the Tower of London, Cromwell may have wanted to have all records of  his new ‘commonwealth’ in one archive, or he may have wished to demonstrate his power over a subjugated nation. Either way, it became very difficult to bring any legal cases in Scotland with the records in England.

After the restoration of Charles II in 1660, arrangements were made for the records to be returned to Edinburgh. However, a series of ill thought out decisions were to lead to their destruction.

Firstly, the ship carrying the records was due to sail during a period of particularly stormy weather. Secondly, it was well known that the Elizabeth of Burntisland was not the most seaworthy of vessels. Her Captain was reluctant to take the precious cargo. Ultimately, the Elizabeth was loaded with two tonnes of papers stored in 85 barrels.

The Captain’s apprehension was justified when the ship began to take on water off Northumbria. She sank, taking with her barrels of Scottish Royal charters and legal documents, documents whose loss leaves a hole in Scottish archives to this day.

[scotianostra]

On 18th  December 1661, the 'Elizabeth of Burntisland’ sank while returning 85 barrels of historic records to Scotland, after Oliver Cromwell removed them from Stirling Castle.

Among the state documents that went down with the Elizabeth were charters and records dating back to the reigns of Kin Robert the Bruce and King David II.

In 1650, Oliver Cromwell’s New Model Army entered Scotland after the Scottish parliament, led by Covenanters, declared Charles II king. The defending forces were no match for Cromwell’s army of well-trained and well-provisioned professional soldiers. The Scots suffered severe losses as the city and castle of Edinburgh fell.

The Records of Scotland were held in a special register house in Edinburgh. After its capture the state and legal papers were allowed to be moved to Stirling Castle for safekeeping.

The precious archive, however, was not safe for long for in August Cromwell’s military commander, General Monck  laid siege to Stirling Castle. Monck set up artillery around the castle, including in a nearby churchyard, “whence for three days a fire was kept up causing considerable damage to the Castle.”

When the Castle fell, Cromwell’s forces, carried off their ‘spoils of war.’ These included not only the Earl of Mar’s coronet and robes but also the national records.

The records were sent to the Tower of London  Cromwell may have wanted to have all records of  his new ‘commonwealth’ in one archive, or he may have wished to demonstrate his power over a subjugated nation. Either way, it became very difficult to bring any legal cases in Scotland with the records in England.

After the restoration of Charles II in 1660, arrangements were made for the records to be returned to Edinburgh. However, a series of ill thought out decisions were to lead to their destruction.

Firstly, the ship carrying the records was due to sail during a period of particularly stormy weather. Secondly, it was well known that the Elizabeth of Burntisland was not the most seaworthy of vessels. Her Captain was reluctant to take the precious cargo. Ultimately, the Elizabeth was loaded with two tonnes of papers stored in 85 barrels.

The Captain’s apprehension was justified when the ship began to take on water off Northumbria. She sank, taking with her barrels of Scottish Royal charters and legal documents, documents whose loss leaves a hole in Scottish archives to this day.