Margaret Beaufort (1441-1509) was the daughter and heiress of John Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, grandson of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. Being very beautiful, as well as the heiress of great possessions, she was at the early age of fifteen years anxiously sought in marriage by two persons of high rank and influence. One was a son of the Duke of Suffolk, then chief advisor to the king; the other was Edmund, Earl of Richmond, half-brother to the reigning monarch, Henry the Sixth. Wavering between these two proposals [she was only 9 years old], Margaret, in her perplexity, requested advice from an elderly gentlewoman, her confidential friend. The matron recommended her not to consult her own inclinations, but to take an early opportunity of submitting the question to St. Nicholas, the patron saint of undecided maidens. She did so, and the saint appeared to her in a vision, dressed in great episcopal splendour, and advised her to marry Edmund. Following this advice, she became the mother of Henry Tudor, who afterwards became King Henry VII. Edmund died soon after the birth of his son, and Margaret married twice afterwards: first, Humphrey Stafford, son of the Duke of Buckingham; and, secondly, Thomas Lord Stanley, subsequently Earl of Derby. We are not told if she consulted St. Nicholas in the choice of her second and third husbands.
Margaret founded several colleges, and employed herself in acts of real charity and pure devotion not common at the period. After a useful and exemplary life, she died at the age of sixty-eight years; having just lived to see her grandson Henry VIII seated on the throne of England. She is included among the royal authors as a translator of some religious works from the French, one of which, entitled The Soul’s Perfection, was printed by Wynkyn de Worde. At the end of this work are the following verses:
‘This heavenly book, more precious than gold, Was late direct, with great humility, For godly pleasure therein to behold, Unto the right noble Margaret, as ye see, The King’s mother of excellent bounty, Harry the Seventh; that Jesu him preserve, This mighty Princess hath commanded me T’ imprint this book, her grace for to deserve.’
Dr John Dodd, a famous English preacher whose wasteful extravagance led to his forging financial documents in order to rescue himself from poverty and shame, was hanged on this day on the triangular gallows at Tyburn in London. After being cut down, his body was instantly taken away and attempts were made to revive him with a hot bath. Since hanging at this time usually meant death by strangulation instead of snapping of the neck in the drop, such efforts at revival occasionally succeeded. A 19th-century source tells us:
On the 16th August 1264, Henry III granted a pardon to a woman named Inetta de Balsham, who, having been condemned to death for harbouring thieves, hung on a gallows from nine o’clock of a Monday to sunrise of Thursday, and yet came off with life, as was testified to the king by sufficient evidence.
Dr. Plot, who quotes the original words of the pardon, surmises that it might have been a case like one he had heard of from Mr. Obadiah Walker, Master of University College, being that of a Swiss who was hung up thirteen times without effect, life being preserved by the condition of the wind-pipe, which was found to be by disease converted into bone.
Dr. Plot relates several cases of the resuscitation of women after hanging, and makes the remark that this revival of life appears to happen most frequently in the female sex. One notable case was that of a poor servant girl named Anne Green, who was condemned to death, at Oxford in 1650 for alleged child-murder, although her offence could only be so interpreted by superstition and pedantry. This poor woman, while hanging, had her legs pulled, and her breast knocked by a soldier’s musket [in order to hasten her demise]; she was afterwards trampled on, and the rope was left unslackened around her neck. Yet, when in the hands of the doctors for dissection, she gave symptoms of life, and in fourteen hours was so far well as to be able to speak. Eager inquiries were made as to her sensations from the moment of suspension; but she remembered nothing she came back to life like one awakening out of a deep sleep. This poor woman obtained a pardon, was afterwards married, and had three children.
A second female malefactor, the servant of a Mrs. Cope, at Oxford, was hanged there in 1658, and kept suspended an unusually long time, to make sure of the extinction of life; after which, being cut down, her body was allowed to fall to the ground with a violence which might have been sufficient to kill many unhanged persons. Yet she revived. In this case the authorities insisted on fulfilling their imperfect duty next day. Plot gives a third case, that of Marjory Mausole, of Arley, in Staffordshire, without informing us of its date or any other circumstances.
On the 2nd of September 1721, a poor woman named Margaret Dickson, married, but separated from her husband, was hanged at Edinburgh for the crime of concealing pregnancy in the case of a dead child. After suspension, the body was inclosed in a coffin at the gallows’ foot, and carried off in a cart by her relatives, to be interred in her parish churchyard at Musselburgh, six miles off. Some surgeon apprentices rudely stopped the cart before it left town, and broke down part of the cooms, or sloping roof of the coffin,—thus undesignedly letting in air. The subsequent jolting of the vehicle restored animation before it had got above two miles from the city, and Maggy was carried home a living woman, though faint and hardly conscious. Her neighbours flocked around her in wonder; a minister came to pray over her; and her husband, relenting under a renewed affection, took her home again. She lived for many years after, had several more children creditably born, and used to be pointed out in the streets of Edinburgh, where she cried salt, as Half-Hanged Maggy Dickson.
The instances of men reviving after hanging are scarcely less numerous than those of females. In 1705, a housebreaker named Smith being hung up at Tyburn, a reprieve came after he had been suspended for a quarter of an hour. He was taken down, bled, and revived. One William Duell, duly hanged in London in 1740, and taken to the Surgeons’ Hall to be anatomized, came to life again, and was transported. At Cork a man was hanged in January 1767 for a street robbery, and immediately after carried to a place appointed, where a surgeon made an incision in his windpipe, and in about six hours recovered him. The almost incredible fact is added, that the fellow had the hardihood to attend the theatre the same evening. William Brodie, executed in Edinburgh, October 1788, for robbing the excise-office, had similar arrangements made for his recovery. It was found, however, that he had had a greater fall than he bargained for with the hangman, and thus the design was frustrated.
On the 3rd of October 1696, a man named Richard Johnson was hanged at Shrewsbury, He had previously, on a hypocritical pretence, obtained a promise from the under-sheriff that his body should be laid in his coffin without being stripped. He hung half an hour, and still showed signs of life, when a man went up to the scaffold to see what was wrong with him. On a hasty examination, it was found that the culprit had wreathed cords round and under his body, connected with a pair of hooks at his neck, by which the usual effect of the rope was prevented, the whole of this apparatus being adroitly concealed under a double shirt and a flowing periwig. On the trick being discovered, he was taken down, and immediately hanged in an effectual manner.
After the American Civil War ended in 1865, the push westward by settlers and the military intensified. Most native tribes were forced on to reservations but many maintained a state of intermittent warfare with the government. In 1876 a US Army campaign, one component of which was the 7th Cavalry led by Lt-Col. George Custer, was launched to force Cheyenne and Sioux nations back on to their reservations in Montana and the Dakotas. On June 25th, Custer’s 700-man column encountered a native encampment on the Little Bighorn River, the unusual size of which he did fully appreciate, and, believing he had been detected, Custer ordered an attack.
Custer divided his command into three elements, one of which he led, while the other two were under the command of Captain Frederick Benteen and Major Marcus Reno. Benteen and Reno were ordered to charge in order to bring the native warriors into a battle while Custer was to attack the village itself. Unfortunately Benteen and Reno found themselves facing superior forces and they were forced to retreat and dig defensive positions on a hill, leaving Custer unsupported and riding into what was said to be the biggest gathering of hostiles ever assembled. Instead of facing 800 enemies, Custer had blundered into a camp of thousands under chiefs such as Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse and Gall; mounted warriors from two directions forced him into a running battle of retreat. In about an hour, Custer and his detachment were dead. Benteen and Reno and their men were under siege for the rest of the day and into the next before the natives melted away in the face of General Terry’s relief column.
Terry’s men found the bodies of Custer, two of his brothers, his nephew and a brother-in-law, plus over 260 others, ritually mutilated where they fell, killed on the run, or in a number of dismounted “last stands”. They were buried on the battle field and the news sent out to a shocked nation about to celebrate America’s centenary.
The native triumph was short lived; their confederacy soon dissolved. Many bands returned to the reservations while Sitting Bull led his people across the border into Canada’s Northwest Territories (now southern Saskatchewan).
Racial segregation was a legal fact in much of America and it extended to their armed forces, even in the midst of World War II. Black troops were largely left out of combat roles and their officers were often less-than-competent whites who had been assigned to these units as a way of reducing the harm they could do. One of these units was a transport outfit, the 1511th Quartermaster Truck regiment, stationed at Bamber Bridge, in Lancashire. The black troops seem to have generally gotten on well with the locals and drank without incident in the local pubs until one fateful night.
The “mutiny” took place on 23 and 24 June 1943 and, as might be expected, the trouble began in what was otherwise a trivial matter. Two white Military Policemen (henceforth MPs), having been advised that there was trouble at the Old Hob Inn, went to investigate. It was just after 10 pm, closing time, and the barmaid had just refused a drink to the several black soldiers in the pub, who were there along with a number of British soldiers and civilians. The MPs tried to arrest one of the black soldiers who was improperly dressed and had no pass; the soldier refused and a crowd surrounded the two policemen. Some of the Britons in the crowd verbally supported the black troops and the whole thing escalated. As far as the MPs were concerned the black troops looked threatening and aggressive and probably were. One of the MPs drew his gun when a soldier advanced on him with a bottle in his hand. The MPs left and a bottle was thrown hitting the windscreen of their jeep.
The soldiers then began walking to Adams Hall, followed by three ATS girls. The MPs, having got reinforcements, returned to the walking soldiers; there was a confrontation ending with a fight, bottles and cobble-stones being thrown. A policeman fired a shot to stop one of them throwing a cobble-stone; another shot was fired hitting one of the blacks in the neck. Another policeman also fired. The crowd dispersed. The blacks went to Adams Hall and the MPs went for more reinforcements. Rumours then spread at Adams Hall that blacks had been shot in the back and that the MPs were gunning for African Americans. Up to 200 men then formed a crowd in the area of Adams Hall and some blacks, carrying rifles, tried to get back into Bamber Bridge but the situation was calmed by the unit’s sole black officer, a 2Lt, who convinced the men that the (white) senior officers would listen to their grievances.
But about midnight about a dozen police arrived in “a makeshift armoured vehicle”, complete with a machine gun. This convinced some or possibly many of the black soldiers that the police were going to kill them and they armed themselves with rifles. Two-thirds of the rifles in the stores were seized by the black soldiers; some stayed in the camp; others believed they were defending the camp; another group ‘took more direct action, and, as the MPs moved off, someone fired at them. British residents testified that there was firing that night in Bamber Bridge and it became known that shots were fired at the MPs who returned fire. Four soldiers were wounded and one black soldier was killed. One British resident said that the firing went on until 3 am. One black soldier had bruises, and two MPS had, respectively, a broken nose and a broken jaw.
There were two trials. The first was at another American Army base at Chorley, south of Bamber Bridge. Four of those involved in the initial brawl were charged with various offences and were found guilty. Three were sentenced to 3-4 years’ hard labour and dishonourable discharges; the fourth to two and a half year’s hard labour. On review the sentence on the fourth was overturned.
The second trial took place at Eighth Army Air Force Headquarters at Bushy Park, Tedidngton. One of the men convicted at the first trial along with the man who was acquitted were among the 35 accused of mutiny, seizing arms, rioting, firing upon officers and MPs, ignoring orders and failing to disperse. Seven were found not guilty, and the remainder received prison sentences from 3 months to fifteen years. Seven men received sentences of twelve years or more. But the President of the court martial made an immediate plea for clemency, arguing that there had been an appalling lack of discipline at the camp and poor leadership with officers failing to perform their duties properly. His views were accepted by higher authority and all sentences were reduced. A year later, 15 of the men were restored to duty, and six others had their sentences reduced to one year. The longest period served was 13 months. Opinions on the fairness of the trial varied. Some thought it a kangaroo court with the defence being poorly prepared and performed; others thought that the board bent over backwards to be fair. It could be argued that the sentences were very light considering they had been charged with mutiny in wartime.
There were some positive outcomes of the whole affair. All field officers (majors, Lt-Colonels and colonels) of black units were replaced and many junior officers were weeded out. There were also improvements in such matters as leave arrangements and for the provision of racially mixed MP patrols. But there was still trouble in various parts of England. In September 1943 some blacks wounded two MPs in Cornwall; in October 1943 some black troops faced a court martial for mutinies and attempted murder at Paignton, Devon; in February 1944 there was serious fighting between black and white troops at Leicester; and on October 5 1944, the wife of a licensee was killed in the cross-fire between black and white troops near Newbury, Berkshire.
Marie-Joseph Angélique was a black slave from the Portuguese island of Madeira. She was sold to a Fleming who brought her to New England before selling her in 1725 to a Québec merchant living in Montreal. She served in the household of François Poulin de Francheville and his wife where she developed a reputation for disobedience and being difficult to control. In February 1734, she attempted to flee to New England with a white servant, Claude Thibaut, but they were captured and returned to her owner. Fearful that she would be sold again, possibly to a far harder life in the West Indies, Angélique vowed to escape again.
On the evening of April 10, inhabitants of Montreal discovered that fire was spreading through the town, a blaze that destroyed the local hospital and 45 houses. Rumours immediately linked Angélique and Thibaut to arson; she was arrested and he fled, never to be found. Though no witnesses linked her to the fire, her reputation and her attempted escape convinced the court that she was guilty. She was sentenced to die in the usual manner of arsonists:
Convicted of Having set fire to the house of dame francheville Causing the Burning of a portion of the city. In Reparation for which we have Condemned her to make honourable amends Disrobed, a Noose around her Neck, and carrying In her hands a flaming torch weighing two pounds before the main door and Entrance of the parish Church of This city where She will be taken And Led, by the executioner of the high Court, in a Tumbrel used for garbage, with an Inscription Front And Back, with the word, Incendiary, And there, bare-headed, And On her Knees, will declare that She maliciously set the fire And Caused the Said Burning, for which She repents And Asks Forgiveness from the Crown And Court, and this done, will have her fist Severed On a stake Erected in front of the Said Church. Following which, she will be led by the said Executioner in the same tumbrel to the Public Place to there Be bound to the Stake with iron shackles And Burned alive, her Body then Reduced To Ashes And Cast to the Wind, her Belongings taken And Remanded to the King, the said accused having previously been subjected to torture in the ordinary And Extraordinary ways in order to have her Reveal her Accomplices.
Though a judicial review changed her sentence from mutilation and burning to death by hanging, she was also required to undergo torture to get her to name her accomplices. The official torturer, also a black slave, broke her leg in a device known as “the boot” but, despite her pain, she maintained she had acted alone. On this day in 1734 she was hanged, with her body burnt and her ashes scattered.
Recent historians have claimed that she was either innocent, or acted out of rebellion against slavery. A street in Montreal in now named after her.
James VI of Scotland and James I of England was one of the longest reigning of British monarchs, succeeding to the throne as a baby. He was superbly educated, an author of poetry, political theory, and a book on witchcraft (in which he was a believer) but he was also a coward, crude of speech, and given to expensive love affairs with male courtiers. Of him Chambers Book of Days says:
King James—so learned, yet so childish; so grotesque, yet so arbitrary; so sagacious, yet so weak- ‘the wisest fool in Christendom,’ as Henry IV termed him—does not personally occupy a high place in the national regards; but by the accident of birth and the current of events he was certainly a personage of vast importance to these islands. To him, probably, it is owing that there is such a thing as the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland among the states of Europe.
This sovereign, the son of Henry Lord Darnley and Mary Queen of Scots, was born on the 19th of June 1566, in a small room in the ancient palace within Edinburgh Castle. We know how it was—namely, for security—that the queen selected Edinburgh Castle for her expected accouchement; but it is impossible to imagine by what principle of selection she chose that this event should take place in a room not above eight feet square. There, however, is the room still shown, to the wonder of everybody who sees it. The young prince was ushered into the world between nine and ten in the morning, and Sir James Melville instantly mounted horse to convey the news of the birth of an heir-apparent of Scotland, and heir-presumptive of England, to Queen Elizabeth.
Darnley came at two in the afternoon to see his royal spouse and his child. ‘My lord,’ said Mary, ‘God has given us a son.’ Partially uncovering the infant’s face, she added a protest that it was his, and no other man’s son. Then, turning to an English gentleman present, she said, ‘This is the son who I hope shall first unite the two kingdoms of Scotland and England.’ Sir William Stanley said, ‘Why, madam, shall he succeed before your majesty and his father?’ ‘Alas!’ answered Mary, ‘his father has broken to me;’ alluding to his joining the murderous conspiracy against Mary’s secretary David Rizzio [who had stirred up Darnley to jealousy]. ‘Sweet madam,’ said Darnley, ‘is this the promise you made that, you would forget and forgive all?’ ‘I have forgiven all,’ said the queen. ‘but will never forget. What if Fawdonside’s pistol had shot? [She had been held at gunpoint while Rizzio was knifed to death in front of her.] What world have become of him and me both?’ ‘Madam,’ said Darnley, ‘these things are past.’ ‘Then,’ said the queen, ‘let them go’.
The Queen, however, did not let those things go. Before too long she conspired to have Darnley murdered and then married his killer — for these crimes she was deposed by the Scottish nobility and baby James crowned in her place. She fled to England and never saw her child again; she would be executed after 20 years of imprisonment by Elizabeth I. In 1603 James would succeed his mother’s killer and become king of both England and Scotland.
When your nickname is Vlad the Impaler, and you are the inspiration for the bloodsucking Count Dracula, it is hard to imagine that you have a loyal historical following. In fact, Vlad III Drakulya, Prince of Wallachia, is a hero in the Christian lands of the Balkans which, in the fifteenth century, were being overrun by the Ottoman Turks. Vlad had his little ways — such as nailing turbans to the heads of Turkish emissaries and impaling or burning his less enthusiastic subjects — but his resistance to the Turks made him a folk hero.
In 1453, Constantinople and the Byzantine Empire, which had been for centuries a barrier to the expansion of Islam into Eastern Europe, fell to the forces of Mehmet II, nicknamed the Conqueror. Mehmet then turned on the minor princes of the Balkans — Serbs, Croats, Saxons, Albanians, Wallachians, Transylvanians, etc. — and demanded that they become his vassals. Most saw no option and paid tribute to the Turks, often serving in their armies. Like so many others, Vlad did the same, for a time, but by 1461 he had ceased to acknowledge the lordship of Mehmet and turned to the Catholic Hungarians for aid. Mehmet responded by invading Wallachia with a huge army of perhaps 150,000 men.
On the night of June 16-17 Vlad launched a night attack on Mehmet’s camp, hoping to capture or kill him. Fortunately for the Turks, the Wallachians struck at the tents of the emperor’s advisers and missed their main target. Vlad withdrew and Mehmet followed him to the vicinity of the town of Târgoviște. There they discovered a mass atrocity, designed to daunt the Turks. According to a contemporary Greek historian:
The sultan’s army entered into the area of the impalements, which was seventeen stades long and seven stades wide [about an acre in size]. There were large stakes there on which, as it was said, about twenty thousand men, women, and children had been spitted, quite a sight for the Turks and the sultan himself. The sultan was seized with amazement and said that it was not possible to deprive of his country a man who had done such great deeds, who had such a diabolical understanding of how to govern his realm and its people. And he said that a man who had done such things was worth much. The rest of the Turks were dumbfounded when they saw the multitude of men on the stakes. There were infants too affixed to their mothers on the stakes, and birds had made their nests in their entrails.
The Turks abandoned that campaign but continued to rack up victories in the Balkans. The treacherous politics of the area saw Vlad arrested by his fellow Christians and then restored briefly to power. He died in 1466 fighting the Turks who sent his head to Constantinople.
“There is a group of people who observe what they call Bloom’s day – 16 June.” So wrote Irish author James Joyce (1882-1941) in 1924. Since then, June 16th has been used by literary enthusiasts around the world to celebrate the life and works of Joyce whose novel Ulysses tells the story of one day — June 16 — in the life of Dubliner Leopold Bloom. (Joyce had chosen the date because it was on that day in 1904 that he had his first sexual encounter with Nora Barnacle who was to become his wife.)
Bloomsday takes many forms. In Ireland, it is often the occasion for readings, pub crawls or re-enactments of scenes in the novel. On the centenary of Joyce’s birth in 1982 a 30-hour dramatization of the book was broadcast by Irish radio. The day is also marked in Hungary because Bloom’s fictional father Vrag was a Hungarian Jew who migrated to Dublin. In the United States readings are often paired with the performance of Irish music, while in Trieste, Italy (where part of Ulysses was written) the Joyce Museum is the centre of Bloomsday events. On Bloomsday 2011, @Ulysses was the stage for an experimental day-long tweeting of the novel, 140 characters at a time.
The invention of the printing press in the mid-15th century changed society in many ways. Books became far less difficult to produce, far less expensive, and contained content that appealed to a mass market, instead of the largely religious works that had had to be hand-copied. It also meant that dangerous ideas could now spread much more quickly than ever before. Consequently, every government soon developed heightened powers of censorship. England left the control of illicit printing to the Stationers’ Company while in Catholic Europe, the Church was charged with looking out for licentious or heretical literature. To assist local authorities with that task, the Council of Trent authorized the creation of a list of banned books, the Index Librorum Prohibitorum.
After 1571 a Vatican department called the Congregation of the Index considered works thought to imperil the souls or morals of Catholic Europe and updated it as required. Its powers technically lay only inside the territories administered by the Church but the Index was consulted by censors working for national governments. Among those authors listed in the various editions were Protestants such as John Milton, Jean Calvin, and John Locke; scientists such as René Descartes, Francis Bacon, and Johannes Kepler; atheists and Deists like Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Voltaire and Jean-Paul Sartre; and authors such as Dante, Victor Hugo and Alexandre Dumas.
A number of bureaucratic changes took place in the 20th century before the Index was finally abandoned as a continuing form of literary surveillance. Nonetheless, the future pope Benedict XVI reminded Catholics that “the Index retains its moral force despite its dissolution.”
Nicole, the ex-wife of football star O.J. Simpson, and friend Ron Goldman were found stabbed to death outside her condominium in Los Angeles. Suspicion fell on O.J., who had a history of domestic violence and who behaved erratically before his arrest. It was widely believed that jealousy over Nicole’s alleged affair with football player Marcus Allen led to her murder and that Goldman, who had been on an errand to return a pair of sunglasses left at his restaurant, was inadvertently caught up in the crime.
The sensational trial was televised and became the topic of rapt attention all across the continent. The defence “dream team” queried the DNA evidence and played the race card incessantly. This technique resulted in Simpson’s acquittal but a subsequent civil lawsuit found him responsible for the deaths and liable for multi-million dollar damages. In 2008 Simpson was convicted of armed robbery and sentenced to 33 years in jail; he was released on parole in 2017.
