My Truth a Mist in Time

By Deborah Richmond Foulkes

A new Regent was leading Scotland in the fall of 1332. Robert the Brus had been buried at Dunfermline Abbey; his most loyal lieutenants James Douglas and Thomas Randolph were dead as well. Tragedy struck quickly at Duplin Moor; the subterfuge of Scots in sympathy to Edward Balliol and the Disinherited led many bravepatriots to their unnecessary deaths. This third book of the Douglas Trilogy, the sequel to the Braveheart legacy takes the reader through the volatile years of the 14th century as the author crafts the true stories of the next generation of Douglas knights; the grandsons of Sir William le Hardi, Lord Douglas. Returning from their exile in Normandy and adventures in Piacenza, Italy, young William and his cousin Archibald the Grim seize the gauntlets of the doughty Douglas; the Patriotic Cause stirring in their blood they set their sights on liberating Scotland. Follow these Earls of Douglas as they embrace the words of the old Crusader; following their truth, defending the cause of Freedom in this exciting conclusion of the real-life story of the Douglas Clan and the Scottish Wars for National Independence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 28, 2007
• ISBN: 9781463454692

Deborah Richmond Foulkes

Deborah Richmond Foulkes, FSA Scot is a recognized historical researcher, spending nearly four years, taking over thirty-four trips to Scotland and England where she visited nearly every site mentioned her books on the medieval Douglas clan. She consulted hundreds of original sources at the National Archives in Scotland and England as well as compilations of original documents using a two year Readers Pass at the Library of Scotland, Edinburgh. As a Douglas descendant Dr. Foulkes is proud to share these exciting stories of her medieval ancestors as they fought for freedom during the Scottish Wars for National Independence. A North Carolina resident, she lives in North Raleigh with her husband Ed and her Scottish Deerhounds, Foxcliffe Celtic Arrow dlux and Foxcliffe Garnet Ace.

Book preview

MY TRUTH

A MIST IN

TIME

AuthorHouse™

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2007 Dr. Deborah Richmond Foulkes. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 9/26/2007

ISBN: 978-1-4343-4033-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4343-4126-6 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2007907383

Printed in the United States of America Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

FOREWORD

Part I 1330 to 1333

Part II 1333 to 1341

Part III 1342 to 1368

Part IV

GLOSSARY

AUTHOR’S NOTES

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My Truth A Mist In Time is the third book in the Douglas trilogy and like the first two volumes in this series of dramatic true accounts of our Douglas heroes, it was developed through extensive research and onsite investigation; involving multiple trips to Scotland and England, with excursions to both Normandy (in truth, France) and Italy, all carefully orchestrated to properly investigate every location referenced in the book.

Academic research for this third installment on the Douglases during the Scottish Wars for National Independence began again at the National Library of Scotland at Edinburgh and at the National Archives in England. I was fortunate to add to my collection of books as well as acquire additional reprints of valuable, translated compilations and chronicles. A bibliography short list now includes Tytler’s History of Scotland in four volumes; Annals of Scotland From the Accession of Malcolm I, by David Dalrymple, Lord Hailes in two volumes; The Lives of the Lindsays in three volumes; Chalmers’ Caledonia, three volumes; four volumes of the Exchequer Rolls of Scotland; John Fordun’s Historians of Scotland; the 1764 publication of the Peerage of Scotland by Robert Douglas complete with a Douglas Cavers bookplate; John Froissart’s Chronicles of England France and Spain; Wyntoun’s Chronicles; two volumes of The Douglas Books by William Fraser; Duncan’s Regesta Regum Scottorum V; Rev. Joseph Stevenson’s Historical Documents of Scotland and Illustrations of Scottish History; Joseph Bain’s Calendar of Documents Relating to Scotland in four volumes; compilations of charters and documents of Ayrshire and Moray; Robertson’s Index of Charters; Histories of the County of Northumbria; Bower’s Scotichronicon; Syllabus of Rymer’s Foedera; Ayloffe’s Calendar of Ancient Charters; Brian A. Harrison’s The Tower of London Prisoner’s Book; and Longman’s Life and Times of Edward III.

Our readers will notice that some of the photographs in the book are referenced ‘courtesy of John L. Peters’. John is the generous donor of many wonderful images from the Scottish Borders region; giving his kind permission to us that we might use his pictures throughout My Truth A Mist In Time. His remarkable and unusual collection of Border photographs can be found at his website: www.borderpics.co.uk. His website was where I first found photos taken from inside the cave at Lintalee; quite a feat! John accompanied me on a few of my adventures: to locate and film Linhope Spout; to stop on one of my many visits to Fawdon; to journey to the battle site at Halidon Hill; and to search for the vanished town of Bondington. I value his knowledge of the Borders and his great talent at getting the perfect shot; his photograph of Threave Castle (back cover) is the best I have ever seen.

In addition to acknowledging his two decades of unrelenting research that went into the writing of the Tower of London Prisoners Book, I wish to give special thanks to Brian A. Harrison, FSA Scot Supernumerary Yeoman Warder and Emeritus Archivist of the Records of Prisoners in the Tower of London for the personal tour he afforded me of that formidable, medieval stronghold. Here I had the opportunity to view some rarely seen sights including some prisoners’ chambers in the Beauchamp Tower and the 13th century Royal Apartment used by Edward Caernarvon; likely the very chamber Prince Edward used the night he reviewed the documents transferring prisoners to the Tower of London from Berwick Castle in Scotland on 12th October, 1297; admitting William le Hardi, Lord Douglas to his final confinement.

To augment my research I purchased many affordable, searchable CD’s of other reference works. Scanned digital images compiled by TannerRitchie Publishing for example included groupings of important records such as the Calendar of Patent Rolls, Edward I and the Register of the Great Seal of Scotland. Other relevant and important records could also be found on CD, such as Sir James Balfour Paul, Lord Lyon, The Peerage of Scotland. I used these digitalized references along with records preserved in hard copy editions such as the Rolls of the Pipe, Fine Rolls, Calendars of Inquisitions Post Mortem, translations of surviving documents and many other compilations and chronicles as the basis for validating this exciting true story.

As I have done with my other writings I would once again like to thank my friends in Scotland: the Laird, Lady and Younger of Balgonie for their collective ongoing support; Martha Drysdale in Ross-shire for her continued encouragement; Jean Muir and Gerald Graham, Secretary of the Hawick Archaeological Society for their research and photographs of Cavers. And for those in the United States Clan Douglas Regents Mark and Cora Peterson and Tim and Mary Tyler; along with my husband Edmond.

And I need to make special mention, giving a shout out to Mia Johnson who ‘out of the blue’ emailed me from her home in Sweden, saying that she was doing a drawing for me. The image of William le Hardi from 1291 was the result of her contact and was included in Part II of this book. Finally I would surely be remiss if I did not include the others working with me and William: Ana, Josh, Capt. David Lewis USMC, Will, William, Cameron Briggs USMC, AG, Muriel, Claire, Richard MSDW, John, Garnet, Bridget, Michael, and Gilbert; with many more who have gone before us for their invaluable assistance and kind support.

I must end this book the way it started ...reminding us all that being brave, living a lifetime of uncompromised character courts hardship and challenges that endure through many lifetimes. The Douglas Trilogy was always about the story of Sir William le Hardi; his life and memory providing the sustaining will for generations of Douglases to follow during the tumultuous times known as the Scottish Wars for National Independence. Roy Williamson once told a friend that he wrote ‘Flower of Scotland’ in tribute to le Hardi’s son, the Black Douglas and King Robert the Brus for their part in ‘ridding Scotland of English blud’. Williamson’s song to honor their lifetimes of struggle for the cause of Freedom is now the national anthem of that wee country. My main reason for writing these books, making a personal investment of $700,000 to complete the research is for that same end: my prayers are for a free and independent Scotland. Saor Alba!

Your aye

Deb

Dr Deborah Richmond Foulkes FSA Scot Winthrop by the Sea, Massachussetts 19th Ju1y2007

DEDICATION

To William le Hardi Douglas

1250-1298

His truth inspired many to great deeds of heroic measure; his determination taught us all about the enduring power of love. And his constant encouragement to generations of Douglases yet serves us:

Where only God’s miracle can so sustain us.. .that when we believe we can succeed, we will then prevail.

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To Arthur Conan Doyle

For his tenacity in the search for validation of the Spirit His quote from The New Revelation March 1918

To all the brave men and women, humble or learned, who have had the moral courage during seventy years (since 1848) to face ridicule or worldly disadvantage in order to testify to an all-important truth.

Remembering Kiera and her sister, Beloved Hounds of Balgonie

And to the New England / Hartford Whalers, now Carolina Hurricanes

In the tradition of Ronnie, Kevin, Eric, Steve, Boomboom, Gump, Ace and Ed 2006 Stanley Cup Champions .we still Bleed Green

FOREWORD

When my dear friend Debby Foulkes contacted me by email and invited me to compile a foreword to the third part her momentous study of her Douglas and Lovaine ancestors, I was firstly embarrassed but then considered it would be the least I could offer in gratitude for her many kindnesses.

Virtually all of our contact has been by an interchange of snail mail and emails over the years so I was somewhat nervous at the prospect of meeting her in person for the first (and, as yet, the only) time; but, as it happened, my fears were ill founded when we virtually bumped into each other at our prearranged rendezvous. And what an ideal meeting place I had lit upon?

As luck would have it, the only date convenient to Debby’s tight schedule coincided with the memorial service to John Stow in the Church of St. Andrew Undershaft in 2005.This building is one of the few churches that escaped damage from the Great Fire of London in 1666 and is therefore able to trace its origins back to 1147.

After we had exchanged brief greetings and gifts, we joined the congregation to commemorate the death of the Tudor historian who had left behind for posterity his wonderful Survey of London and Annales of England among other unique works. As historical writers, Debby and I could both appreciate the long hours of hard labour he must have suffered to bring together everything he had committed to paper.

For myself, having consulted the Survey and the Annales and other original sources during twenty-five years research for my own historical publications, I gazed on the tomb-effigy of dear old John sitting at his desk with his quill pen (a real feather) poised ready to commit his daily findings to paper. No electric lights or computers in his day and yet his writings bear witness to the correctness of his mammoth tasks.

As for Debby, she must also have gazed in awe at the simple ceremony where, during the triennial church service, the Lord Mayor replaced the quill pen with a new plume and presented the old one and a copy of one of Stow’s books to the student who had produced the best historical essay over the three years since the plume was last changed.

At one stage of the ceremony, our eyes met yet we were unable to speak due to the lump in our throats. Maybe she was thinking, like myself, would it not be pleasing to think that our own works could be perpetuated with some similar gesture at our own gravesides in later years?

I have already touched upon the modern advantages that Debby and I enjoy and take for granted in our own assemblages of facts. Using modern forms of transportation, Debby must have traveled many thousands of miles more than John Stow or myself in her self-imposed quest to bring forth the

truth about her illustrious ancestors. Yet one further aspect of Debby’s approach to the past is that she claims to have guidance from the Spirit world. Decry me if you wish. I cannot even begin to explain how she manages with this side of her work that leaves me completely mystified; yet, as soon as you become absorbed in her writing, you will meet words and turns of phrase that are no longer used in everyday parlance. Keep a discerning eye out for them. You might even enjoy highlighting these little nuances to show your family and friends, if only to prove that some unexplained something has been steering Debby’s hands across her computer’ keyboard (*).

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John Snow effigy and tomb with the new feather quill 2005

To further enhance her work, I feel I should point out that the photographs illustrating the commentary are not professional prints; they are Debby’s own masterpieces, helping to throw more light on her wide-ranging travels and travails.

(*) Illustrative of this side of Debby’s character came to me after we left the church and went to the Tower of London for lunch before taking in a few sights. Thinking back to my twenty-one years as a Yeoman Warder, I recalled one incident that might well fall into Debby’s domain. During one particular day’s duty, another Yeoman colleague called me over and recounted a tale of his meeting with a Spiritualist in the Beauchamp Tower. The said lady asked if she could look into the north passage at the first floor level as she felt strange impulses emitting from therein. The Warder duly opened the door and conducted her into the tightly confined space, only to

find the distressed lady hanging back claiming that the prisoner who had carved ‘THOMAS TALBOT 1462’ on the left wall of the west-facing casemate, had died in custody soon after leaving behind his inscription.

I explained to my colleague that my own study of the said prison tower suggested that the date should correctly read ‘1402’ and that the extra arm might have been added to the third figure to leave the appearance of it being sixty years younger than was the case, purely because I had found one Sir Thomas Talbot who had been custody from September 1394 until escaping before 14 April 1395 when orders were issued for his apprehension. Without further mention, I had already considered that he had been recaptured soon after and brought back to this prison lodging. Being only a matter of seven years after his escape, a dating of ‘1402’ made more reasonable acceptance than ‘1462’ when there is no mention of anyone with such a name. Given this stirring account of Sir Thomas’s probable demise in the Beauchamp Tower, I had earlier resolved to consult Debby to see if her Spirit could shed any light on this mystery.

After we had finished our brief meal in the Tower restaurant, we went to leave the building for our little tour. I did not even mention Sir Thomas Talbot to Debby but simply explained that I had a type of Spiritual question for her regarding the Beauchamp Tower. Without further words, she drew from her handbag a drawing that she had personally ‘put to paper that very morning’ before leaving for our meeting. As she handed that paper to me, she kept waving her hand down the left side of the drawing without giving a reason.

As I took the drawing form her I was shocked to see a perfect representation of a casemate in the wall, even down to the all-too-familiar cruciform arrow-slit facing out towards the outer wall and the City of London to the west. Knowing the Talbot inscription was on the left wall of this casemate, I asked Debby why she was waving her hand up and down the left side of her drawing. Suffice it to say, she could only say she sensed ‘something’. Thenceforward, I was convinced she certainly had some form of unexplained gift.

Brian A. Harrison, FSA Scot

Supernumerary Yeoman Warder and Emeritus Archivist

of the Records of Prisoners in the Tower of London

The study of all history, ancient and modern, our own included, convinces us that no single man, however able, can in the end prevail over a whole people.

Joseph Bain, FSA Scot

The Edwards in Scotland 1296-1377

MY TRUTH A MIST IN TIME

Part I 1330 to 1333

DOUGLASDALE SPRING 1330-The warmer spring weather portended a hot summer Archie speculated. He smiled as he eagerly took the steps leading to the wall walk two at a time. The pathway connecting the smaller donjon towers was at last complete. ‘Built of stone to last for generations of Douglases’ just as his brother James Lord Douglas had devised. The defensive walls had been extended and now surrounded the partially built tower keep that would house the entire family, if necessary as a secure fortress for protection in times of war. But the Scots were at peace with England now; the 1327 treaty of Edinburgh, ratified by the English in Northampton in 1328 was secured by a bond of £20,000. Should King Edward cross the marches with his army in breach of such a peace he would

have to pay the Pope that very large sum in penalty for his rash actions.

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Figure 1-Part One; Brogham Castle, Cumbria was more an English manor house until 1300 when the lord Robert de Clifford added fortifications, a double front gate, and a third floor for the lord‘s chamber, other family rooms and a private oratory; emulating the design of Douglas Castle that he had held 1297 to 1307.

Lanarkshire and Douglasdale, long besieged by warfare were now basking in the serenity of more peaceful times. Douglas Castle too was thriving. At long last the mighty stronghold was rising from the ashes of the

1307 assault that culminated in the expulsion of Robert de Clifford and his English vassals from Lanarkshire; returning the proper sasine of the lordship to James, Lord Douglas. Restoring the barony held of generations of Douglas Chiefs to her former splendor was a labor of love for the baron of Douglas, planning the renovations with his father’s widow, his stepmother, the late Eleanora of Lovaine.

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Figure 2-Part One; the author’s depiction of Gilley and Ellie with Shamus as they would have appeared in the late 13th; the background is of the present day ruins of the de Clifford Folly Tower and 13th century Douglas Castle stone defensive walls

The initial construction began with an unpretentious yet expansive tower; a keep that was being built over the foundations of an original Douglas earth and timber hall. That former structure was used by Willelmi Lord Douglas, father of the present laird, for Baronial Court during the Abernethy-de Percy trials of 1289. An original part of the early Douglas stronghold, it was razed by a much younger James that fateful year some twenty-three years ago when the squire first attacked the English invaders to drive them from their Douglasdale. Sir James successfully expelled Robert de Clifford and his vassals that year from his family’s lands. Beginning with that infamous event ever after known as the Douglas Larder, in March 1307, he finally razed the castle six months later in early September so it could no longer be defended. The English finally abandoned the site, leaving Douglasdale to her rightful laird, James Lord Douglas.

True to his promise made to his brothers to rebuild their home, the Douglas laird sought license for battlements and other structures. He was successful in his request; obtaining permission from the late king, Robert the Brus, just before his passing in 1329. James’ intentions were simple: to recreate the majestic fortress known as Douglas Castle. He carefully determined to construct an exact replica of the former stronghold; painstakingly building a model of the exterior of all the original buildings, while designing the interior spaces from the drawings left by their mother Eleanora Douglas before her death in1328.

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Figure 3-Part One; Bothwell Castle view of tower illustrating modifications like those made to Douglas Castle where a new wall walk met the former covered way of the older structure; noting here an overhang that was removed

James, Lord Douglas had recently departed for the Holy Lands; leaving some weeks before, giving Archie, the youngest Douglas sibling, the task of supervising the massive project until his return. Henklebaldicus was taking his stroll around the edifice; exuding great pride as he monitored the masons’ progress on the new stone structures. On a daily basis Sir Archibald meticulously reviewed the stone workers’ accomplishments and compared them to the specific instructions from plans drawn by James’ own hand. Today was special; the charred ruins of their great grandfather Archibald’s original fortress were now fully hidden by the foundation completed for the spacious fortified tower that would eventually house the entire family. It is done, he added with quiet resolve

From behind him Archie heard the lighter footsteps of Lady Beatrice, his wife and ‘love for all the ages’ as he described his bride in his poems.

My sweet lass, he said softly as he drew her to him. That you have been my girl these twenty years now gone, he said as his face broke into a wide grin nearly reaching ear to ear. Beatrice cuddled into his broad frame; a large man with an affinity for feasting, the warmth of his bear hug always comforted his wife.

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I

Figure 4-Part One; Strathaven Castle ruins; good example of a corner or angle tower in Strathaven, Lanarkshire; a 15th century Black Douglas stronghold

Most often do I find you here my husband, the lady said thoughtfully. Archie told her how much it meant to him to be in charge of such a project. An honor for any Douglas, sure aye! he bellowed. He took her hand and led her around to a part of the wall that had recently been repaired to show her his discovery. Look upon these words; carved by my own dear father and sweet mother, he proclaimed. He was showing her a crevice where the walls of the angle tower met the original covered wall walk that led to the now demolished donjon. Oh this lass most remembers this place fondly; with a lang hallway covered, perfect for wee children to both play about and hide from our nurses, Beatrice exclaimed. As she bent low to see the inscription tears came to her eyes while she read the words aloud. Willelmi loves Alianora, she whispered. The heart conveyed in pictures the knight’s fair sentiment to his bride our own sweet mother, Beatrice said; meaning that Lord Will had drawn a heart as a symbol rather than write the

word love. I do wonder. her words trailed off as she ran to the location of the former doorway that was now blocked up with carved stone bricks.

Come see my husband; this lass and your sweet sister Mura were most here; that she wrote our names that we should always be remembered! Archie was right behind his wife, bending to a level to see where young lasses had once carved their initials and the year. There embedded in the stone and mortar were the scrawled letters ‘MD and BL MCCXCVII,’ for Muriel Douglas and Beatrice Lindsay, 1297. Beatrice’s face was aglow with the discovery. To have so forgotten, she said softly. That I was here in that fateful year to be most taken to our Barnweill by my mother while my father was at Irvine Water with Lord Douglas and the Steward. Archie was amazed by the story as Beatrice continued with her memories of Douglas Castle when Lord Will was yet alive. That you were newly born, most wrapped in swaddling and sleeping in the Douglas cradle at the side of dear Lady El in the withdrawing room. She giggled at the thought of the wee Archie immobilized. Aye, and that wee cradle can but hold just one bare foot of this growing knight most now, he bragged to her, brandishing the Douglas smirk for emphasis.

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Figure 5-Part One; Ruins of a tower house believed to be Thorril Castle found during the construction of the M-74 dual carriage way

The couple walked some more, stopped to look over the wall walk towards the south side of the Douglas Water where it ran along the fortress motte. What building is most there? inquired the lady. That we must fortify the embankment against further erosion of the flowing waters; to put in stakes and deeper footings for another donjon that Lord Douglas deems necessary to build as well, he explained thoughtfully. More work for this knight, he scoffed good-naturedly. That our laird is so planning for a family of most plenty, Beatrice chided her husband. "And what of his many other fortresses in Douglasdale; our Park Castle, the tower house at

Thorril, the keep at Needle Knowe, and the other stronghold at Parishholm? she asked, her eyes wide with concern. Not to trouble yourself dear Beatrice; our James wants each Douglas brother, our sons as well, to reside in strongholds most near the castle of the Chief, he said to console his wife. Perhaps to watch over our laird that as he grows into senility we can protect him from his folly," Archie added, chuckling out loud at the thought. Beatrice wrinkled her nose in mocked disdain for his teasing ways.

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Figure 6-Part One; Doocot or Dovecote at Luffness, through the trees, left rear; the estate was once a de Lindsay manor

By now Archie and Beatrice were strolling arm in arm, making their way towards the newly rebuilt section of the wall walk as the knight completed his rounds of inspection for the day. Would you most enjoy to accompany your laird to England? he inquired. England? Beatrice questioned with her eyes. This knight must make his feudal appearance in Staffordshire to assign a bailie there; then too in Northumbria for our Fawdon, he explained. Perhaps to travel on to Little Dunmow most as well, he added quietly. Beatrice understood at once; Archie had never seen the final resting place of his mother, her body buried next to Lord Douglas at the Essex priory. Plan the travels; this lass will proudly venture south to journey at your side. And we will take our wee ones most as well, Beatrice added jovially. Adventure for this lad in times of peace; what paradise this England, he said wryly.

Archie took Beatrice’s hand as she completed the final step on the turnpike stairs of the tower; they were now ambling about the inner courtyard of Douglas Castle. Archie continued to inspect other work in progress; pointing out bee-boles, alcoves for the straw skeps that would house the bees. Our James demands of the most modern of conveniences, he boasted aloud. "This lass has never seen such appointments in a castle

fortress; only to be found in the finest of monasteries are such wall confinements for the wee birds to produce of honey," Beatrice replied. Archie furled his brow to disagree; the flight of bees had long been misinterpreted, he wanted to say; bees were not birds he remembered from Hugh’s studies of le Hardi’s journals.

Yet before he could answer, Beatrice was sprinting to another location; nearing a wee stone bridge, newly constructed within the courtyard. And does Lord Douglas so prefer to have a miniature of every Border hamlet in the grounds of his estate? she asked referring to numerous stone bridges; fords dating from Roman times, found in villages of the Marches. Beatrice glided up and down the tiny bridge with glee for the uniqueness of the small edifice; then leaned over to inspect the stream flowing below. This water is most clear that I can see my face; that it must be from so fresh a spring? she asked as she chattered away, barely waiting for Archie to answer.

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Figure 7-Part One; Stow pack bridge over the Gala was built in 1655 from the stone of the choir of Stow kirk while other Borders’ bridges of similar structure date to earlier

Roman times.

Yes sweet bride; our laird my brother seeks only to sustain this castle against siege; stores in good plenty; fresh water for our use should there be a lang attack so set upon us. And over there he will build a new doocot for our good use as well; and pigeon roosts to form inside the walls of every tower near the wall walk, he explained, describing the well thought out scheme. James‘ strategy was to provision the fortress with many food sources to sustain a castle engaged in extended bouts of warfare with invaders. Suddenly something else caught Beatrice‘s eye; a lang pipe that was running

from the outer wall of the new donjon, to then enter in through an opening in the wall near what would be the family level of the tower. What is this she demanded to know; spouting her most curious grimace.

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Figure 8-Part One; Artist’s concept of the rebuilding of Douglas Castle that began around 1328 under the direction of James Lord Douglas, specifically with the restoration of two angle towers aside the portcullis and double front gate, the rebuilding of the former stables near the stone defensive walls and the newly constructed, fortified keep with hot water piped from the cap-house to floors below; the foundations of a large drum tower, lower left near the de Clifford Folly Tower were also taking form though not completed until Earl William’s time

Aye, such device is well thought out with great pride for Lord Douglas; the most important of all luxuries. Our James to honor Lord Will and Lady El; that hot water to follow from the caldrons of the watch, to stream down from the wall walk of the tower, carried through this pipe, forcing hot water to the bath-chamber where it is needed; a feat that our parents would have most approved! Archie started laughing at the extravagance, as he explained further. Our James was told of such inventions most used in Kent at Leeds Castle there some four decades now gone from us when le Hardi was alive. That we are to have it now in our Scotland is only right and just, befitting James’ great stature in our kingdome, he boasted. The younger Douglas was referring to Edward Plantagenet’s modernization of Leeds castle, fashioning a bathing room with hot running water for his queen in 1291. Now Douglas Castle would host the same amenities.

JEDBURGH APRIL 1330-Henkelbaldicus and his bride were making their appearance at James’ castle on the Jed, not far from their more secluded fortress at Lintalee. The lang caravan of carts laden with wooden

chests and other sundries for their travels south to their English estates trailed behind the laird and his family. And could be seen for miles, quipped young Will Douglas to his attendants as they were joined in the great hall of Jedburgh Castle by his uncle, aunt, younger brother Archibald and cousin Eleanora. Dear Uncle Archie, he began. What pleasure to this squire that he might set eyes upon your good self. And dear Beatrice, our sweet Eleanora too! This lad is most surprised. Archie informed his nephew that Hugh was on his way to Jedburgh, to stop first at their manor at Bedrule as was their intention. The canon was bringing with him Will’s other cousins, Archie’s own sons, the wee William and his older brother John. The Douglas squire and page had recently been in the Highlands learning the ways of records and receipts for Archie’s estates at Ratray and Crimond. This knight is going to England with his family; most like my father le Hardi when he journeyed with his bride and children for feudal business; then too some exploring and adventure in that land of men with tails, he boasted.

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Figure 9-Part One; ruins of a tower at Bedrule; the lands not far from Jedburgh were given in charter to James Lord Douglas by Robert the Brus

Lady Beatrice was busy directing her ladies in wait while the other Douglas servants were bringing in their wooden chests of clothing and personal belongings, including the war-chest of Sir Archibald. Behind them followed James’ son, the wee Archibald with his nurse; a lass from Douglasdale named Matilda. Bringing up the rear, prancing in with the grace of a young palfrey, was Beatrice’s new Deerhound bitch, aptly named Arrow for the markings on her broad chest. Bring our laddie here to his auntie, Lady Douglas cooed as she placed the youngest Douglas on a wee

woven mat in front of the fireplace; lining up some well-worn wooden blocks for his amusement. And come here my Arrow; sweet lass, she continued. There, that we are all here and settled, she said with finality and relief.

James’ youngest son was turning three that year and was appointed to the care of his Aunt Beatrice. The ‘wee Henklebaldicus’ as she called the three year old was a delight for Lady Douglas. God’s good gift to her she admitted freely, having lost two babies in the last eighteen months; short term pregnancies that ended sadly and quite unexpectedly. Everyone’s attention now turned to the exuberant Eleanora as she barely bounded into the great hall. And what of you dear Will? asked the vivacious fifteen year old. Are you most busy with the work of a great laird? she teased her older cousin, wrinkling her nose like her mother in her coy manner. This lad is very bored; too many decisions of a household, to be forever roaming from one estate to yet another manor, traveling to this shire or through that dale, with little time to be a lad in search of adventure, he moaned in abject misery for his fate.

That you had promised you good father, my dear brother James, Archie teasingly reminded the lad of his duties to watch after the Douglas estates. That we will have our Hugh to sort through your troubles; to assist you most as well to manage the accounts of my brother’s vast holdings, he added; observing the frenzied countenance of his young nephew. Young Will’s face spread into a broad grin. Good Hugh and dear Walter, that they are most coming to the rescue of this lad; the seneschal and scribe for Lord Douglas in his absence, I do pray so! A true gift from Saint Bride to be relieved of another quarter day; the last was most enough. Archie was laughing out loud by now; he too abhorred directing the monetary affairs of his estates; considering himself quite fortunate that Lady Beatrice could manage the quarter days, supervise his several seneschals and query of his bailies assigned to act in his absence as well. Most like our Lady El, he mused.

Feasting began and balusters of wine were being carried up from the cellars of Jedburgh Castle in great quantity. Suddenly the squires were heralding the arrival of another Douglas contingency. With great pomp of trumpets blaring, drums beating in their rhythm of high circumstance, the men at arms announced the arrival of John of Douglas, Squire with his page and brother, William of Douglas; sons and heirs of Sir Archibald Douglas of Morebattle, Crimond, Ratray, Carnglass, Great Cavers, lands of Drumlanrig, Kirkandrews, the manors of West Calder and Terregles, with carucates and messuages in Conveth, and of Northumbria, Naboth’s vineyard known to Douglases as Fawdon... on and on they continued, listing the many land holdings of the youngest Douglas laird; all explicit to

charters, some granted from the late Robert Brus, King of Scots, others from James Lord Douglas, providing a charter-chest full of parchment rolls.

Beatrice was rolling her eyes in disdain for the foolery and Archie was doubled over in laughter. Wherever did they so devise such royal measure to their entrance? he begged to know, when suddenly from behind the young Douglas sons, appeared the Glasgow canon and the Logan Augustinian. The churchmen were sauntering into the great hall, each with a bemused look; satisfied for the success of their ruse and entrance befitting prelates of great rank. This humble canon so remembers one Henklebaldicus of Douglas, Squire; a wee lad of such pomp our older brother James had most often to subdue him! Hugh bellowed; his gruffness not unlike his namesake Uncle Hugh, le Hardi’s older brother, Beatrice reflected with amusement for the stories Ellie used to share with them.

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Figure 10-Part One; Morebattle; a Borders manor granted in chief to Archibald Douglas by Robert the Brus, King of Scots

Good Hugh, dear Walter; this lad is most relieved to have you both so here! exclaimed young Will. Churchman, show good your respect; that you must mind you manners or prepare to back up your words of challenge with a sword or bow, the knight admonished his older brother good naturedly, brandishing a Douglas smirk for emphasis. Shhh now you two; this lass will have her peace; that you must suppress your sparring ways for just this day! she teased Hugh and Archie, knowing it was foolish to even try to contain their competitive spirits. "For our prelate to be and my own sweet laird and great knight; you both are so required to set of good example

for our wee ones," she admonished them further for their pretense to do combat.

This humble priest does ask, pray of what device do you so journey now to England? Hugh inquired, having received Archie’s letter informing them of their upcoming travels. „That this great English lord has come to Edward‘s peace, pledging fealty for our lands of Fawdon and in Staffordshire as well; now must he appear for feudal business, Archie began in self mocking tones; then he lowered his voice and bowed his head to hide his emotions as tears filled his eyes. „That this knight has never seen the tomb of our dear mother, he quietly admitted. Hugh was moved by his brother‘s sentiments. The Austin canon had been the only Douglas son to carry Lady Eleanora‘s body to her final resting place; to be buried at Little Dunmow Priory as she stipulated in her will, next to the grave of Sir William le Hardi, her beloved knight, their father. Beatrice broke the silence, coming to her husband‘s rescue. „This lass has never before so visited in England; our children need to know of their true heritage as my own dear father, God rest his noble and most pious soul, that he once called a Suffolk manor home to his noble ancestors."

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Figure 11-Part One; Terregles in Dumfrieshire was a manor held by Archibald Douglas; a nineteenth century mansion resides there today where the 13th century

stronghold once stood

Hugh recalled that his Uncle Alex had spoken of that estate not far from Bildeston, a Lovaine manor now held by their Uncle Thomas, the younger, half brother of Lady Eleanora Douglas. And are you to visit Fawdon and our other Douglas lands in Northumbria as well? he inquired. Archie told him yes, that he intended to lead his family south, passing through Northumbria, the Parish of Ingram, and then further into England. "That we will seek of shelter along the way and tarry most at the Lovaine manors in Yorkshire; that is my desire. This laird to stop at abbeys, visit the vast

monasteries bringing tribute there as well; to take in the history and peruse the great sites of famous battles, victories of brave Douglas lairds and sacred sites where Scots received of English treats of peace," Archie elaborated. Beatrice could not help but think how much her husband was taking on the role of his father le Hardi; following in the footsteps of his brother James as well as he taught his children their family history.

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Figure 12-Part One; Priory Hall where the canons of Little Dunmow Priory once resided; it is now a private residence

To look upon the castle and royal court at Knaresburgh; where our mother so freed le Hardi from his imprisonment, Archie continued; sharing his expansive plans of travel, their adventures in England. That this knight has sent his messengers just this week to advise our Uncle Thomas Lovaine of our travels; requesting of his special favor for our good escort through that country of our former enemy. Hugh suddenly looked up from the charts that he was reviewing for young Will. Dear Thomas; his manors in Yorkshire once the victims of some Douglas peril were they not some dozen years now gone? he asked.

Archie shook his head; he had almost forgotten the devastation brought to northern England when James was sent by King Robert to bring fire and sword to the region; sadly, the Lovaine lands did not escape the perilous raids of 1318. Perhaps to bring some gifts in tribute; pigs and ewes for their fine use, he quipped recalling the booty the Scots removed from the dales of that shire. We will then most go to Staffordshire, Archie added, abruptly changing the subject from the destruction of the wars. Attending to feudal matters at Wilbrighton Hall, he elaborated further. Hugh said that he understood. The peace may not survive; better to go south most now. From the rumblings of the disinherited in these parishes of the Borders trouble may yet come with the spring, he added with remorse.

This lad is more concerned with the lawlessness in the English Marches; sheriffs and nobility that so enforce their will upon their subjects most free of Edward’s watchful eye; he does not care. Young Will wanted to hear more about the desires of the English who felt they held estates in Scotland but were not allowed entry to their lands. Our dear mother’s kin, Lord Henry de Ferrers of Groby is the most vocal of those barons, Hugh allowed. „That rogue and bully; we are not to tarry with that fool, scoffed Archie. „Our good Regent Randolph will deal with the complainers to our peace. Beatrice was suddenly quite worried. „Is it truly safe for us to travel there my husband? she asked. Archie explained that Edward was held to a truce. „With a fair bond of £20,000 with the Pope should he break with it.

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Figure 13-Manor of Little Easton, Essex where Eleanora Lovaine Douglas was born in 1268; her stepbrother was the lord of the manor in 1330, uncle to Sir Archibald Douglas and Hugh of Douglas, Canonic, See of Glasgow

It is true and just for your sweet husband who holds his lands in England to yet go to that country; most compelled is he to tend to feudal duties, he must appear, the Douglas knight allowed. That an iter of such pleas has most been set; this date once postponed already, it is mandatory to so attend. Our good party to travel unmolested, protected by dear Edward’s own seal upon this writ. Beatrice was shaking her head; she already doubted their safety for the journey. And good Douglas men at arms to insure fair deliverance of good measure, John boasted. Archie’s oldest son and heir was the mirror image of his father; his words of bravado were answered by cheers of the rest of those feasting in the great hall at Jedburgh Castle. And good men at arms from the household of Lovaine, Archie said reassuringly to his wife.

Perhaps this humble canon should expand his use of clerks in our Scotland for your absence? Hugh put forth. The churchman was referring to the large number of Douglas holdings in the many shires, covering nearly one-third of Scotland. "The grave difficulty for collecting rents in Crimond

when the same time we must be attending feudal business far to the south in Galloway, at dear Archibald’s manor in Kirkandrews, while yet we set a quarter day’s collection for Lord Douglas, his lands near Tarbet at Glendouglas; to return again to Buittle in Dumfries, then on to Polbuthy and our lands near Moffat Water returning then to the Ettrick; it is too strenuous to so continue. he commented thoughtfully. To put forth these fair sentiments to our James when he so returns; that we must have more seneschals, assign more bailies to act on our behalf; to spare such travels of many miles come quarter day," Archie said in open agreement with Hugh’s idea to hiring additional accountants.

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Figure 14-Part One; Groby Village; Manor held by Henry de Ferrers, one of the disinherited; his grandfather William de Ferrers was married to Eleanora Lovaine Douglas, leaving her a young widow in 1287.

That you Douglas men complain so for the lands and castles that you own; coinage and crops growing too strenuous to collect, Beatrice teased them. Hugh shook his head as Archie furled his brow. That when we fought for Lord Robert such ambitions were not ours to have, the youngest laird reflected. The canon agreed; ironically it seemed they shared more time with family and celebrations of good feasting during wartime than now. That in these years of peace little freedom do we have for Ceilidhs and celebrations; just feudal business and quarter days, mused Will, in concert with his uncles’ opinions on the matter.

Dear Father, John interrupted. "How is it that you have such a manor in Kirkandrews with no other lands nearby; for many days of travel to

Scotland’s most distant southern shores? Archie began to laugh at his fate, remembering how James and Lord Robert would often tease him for such benefits of charters here and there. Our good prince would have his little joke, Archie began, smiling as he recalled their late king, a great leader of men; a true man of good humor and kind ways. Lord Robert would look about his Council chamber as he was calling great lairds forward for their grants; some lands of Balliol to James, some of de Soules to good Randolph too. That when he came to such a manor as Kirkandrews, most in the hinterlands of our beloved kingdome he would bellow out: ‘And who would want of this ‘ all the while spouting his most mischievous grin."

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Figure 15-Part One; Kirkandrews bay; the manor of the same name was seised to Archibald Douglas by Robert the Brus; far to the south of Scotland on the Solway Firth; the vegetation reflects the severity of the weather in this region; the trees permanently contorted by the harsh, enduring winds

Beatrice wrinkled her brow in disdain; no one should have fun at the expense of my Archie she mumbled to herself; this was the first she heard of such travails and she was becoming upset. "Then our James would take his cue: Give those wee lands to ole Archibald; he is needeth of some manors to keep him most busy in his days to come when we are yet at peace.’ Then our king would chuckle and agree with my dear brother, write the charters; seise the lands to ole Archie of Douglas, he scoffed good-naturedly. Will and John were laughing by now while Beatrice told them all, albeit indignantly, that she didn’t care what was said, lands were lands; income theirs to have. My Beatrice; that our James and dear Robert, God rest his soul, were only being jovial in their ways; it is most flattering to have a king thus saying these kind and sometimes silly words; that he does so know this Archibald can most be trusted, especially in times of war, to hold such lands in most strategic places, he said trying to soothe her feelings and explain the true circumstances of nobles at Court. Recall now too that we hold such

valuable estates of Drumlanrig and of Cavers; all strategically positioned and near the manors of our James."

Just then there was a great commotion coming from the area in front of the fireplace; angry screams of indignation and impatience spewed from the wee Archibald as Arrow tried frantically to run from the scene of the crime. The Deerhound had decided she would take one of the wooden blocks for her own amusement, only to be startled when the lad’s fortress was dispersed to ruin as she stole away her prize. The silly hound reacted to the child’s shrieks by bolting wildly; knocking over the rest of the laddie’s creation in her flight. The furled brow of Douglas discontent formed on the youthful countenance while laughter emanated from the adults observing the fracas.

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Figure 16-Part One; Foxcliffe Celtic Arrow d’Lux, using her Sunday name, is a Deerhound of distinction who relishes the snows of a New England winter

Young Archibald informed the hound that he would not tolerate further disruptions. Wee grey hound; Archibald of Douglas does so banish you! he commanded, making the scene even more comical as the Deerhound stood taller than the laddie, out weighing him as well. Fortunate for the Douglas knight to be the sweet hound had a loving temperament and came to wash his face despite his anger. This lad has his tender side, he replied in forgiving tones. That you may stay; but so behave! he declared as went back to rebuilding his fortress.

FAWDON-The Douglas entourage arrived at Archie‘s manor of Fawdon in the deluge of a downpour; the Fawdon Burn was overflowing its banks and they could barely see their way up the hill to their newly refurbished tower house in Northumbria. Archie and John hurried the household up the cart path when the rains abruptly stopped. „That our Celtic gods most know of our arrival in our Fawdon to greet us with the sun, le Hardi‘s youngest quipped. „One hundred years of Douglas history so resides here, he added with great reverence. Beatrice turned to take his outstretched arm as they walked together towards the fortified residence.

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Figure 17-Part One; the author speaks with the farmer at Fawdon farm who was bringing feed supplements to the stock in the pasture lands at the foot of East Hill;

Fawdon means variegated hills, specifically those of the Cheviot that surround this old manor; photograph courtesy of John L. Peters

That you sound more like our James with your stories of our Fawdon, she chided him. Archie knitted his brow; perhaps so he quietly agreed. Eleanora, show your maids in wait where to place your wooden chests for your garments, he commanded his daughter. More cotes and surcotes than her namesake, one known to all as Lady El; a great accomplishment for our wee lass, he said; chuckling some at his daughter’s proclivities for finery.

Archie was soon back outside the tower house; making his way to the former location of his father’s healing gardens. The knight planned a private ceremony of his own. Archie wanted to say some prayers at the gravesite of

Sir Shamus; le Hardi’s own Deerhound whose bones were buried there by a long time Douglas vassal, Sir David of Fairstead.

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Figure 18-Part One; the beauty of Linhope Spout in the Cheviot; the falls are somewhat changed from the 13th century having moved their course some, there is sparse room behind the water falls today for any cavorting as Ellie and Gilley once enjoyed there; photo courtesy of John L. Peters

Father, are you to take us to the Clinch today? asked Archie’s youngest child, William. Aye, to be sure good lad, your father is to lead his sons to that former stronghold. Perhaps to journey to the summit of Old Fawdon Hill as well; to visit the fort enclosure with the many circle huts yet there of the ancient ones, a sacred place where le Hardi once rode with his Lady El, Archie answered his son. He was chuckling at himself; giddy at the prospect of leading his family on a tour of Douglas history; a practice James cherished, taking his younger brothers and mother out on adventure, when Archie was but a wee lad.

Beatrice had come to stand at her husband’s side, near the buried remains of Sir Shamus. That this lass did know you would come to pray at the grave of that silly hound, she whispered. My dear sweet bride; tomorrow we shall visit the fair waterfall at Linhope, he said brandishing the Douglas smirk. John joined the older Douglases and started to laugh when he heard his father’s promise to his mother. Our Uncle James has told us all of that fair place, he said with a twinkle in his eye. Perhaps this lad will venture to the banks of those waters for a spying on his parents’ private moments, he added jovially.

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Figure 19-Part One; Fawdon Burn looking towards East Hill

Such deeds of one named James will not be repeated, Archie replied, admonishing his son for the thought; but his wide grin betrayed his somber tone. This lass will not leave her surcote on the banks of that fair burn for her sons to find! Beatrice boasted, exchanging a rakish look with her husband; she too remembered James’ stories of finding his parents, Lord Will and Lady El bathing together in the pools behind the waterfall; their clothes resting on the shorelines of the streaming waters protected by only the watchful eyes of Ana.

The next day the Douglases rose to break their fast in the great hall of Fawdon Hall. Before they took their first taste of porridge and good ale their men at arms announced the eminent arrival of English riders. Lovaine banners, exclaimed their squire, the former vassal of Nicky de Segrave. When Eleanora‘s cousin, Sir Nicholas, Lord of Stowe, passed at Wilbrighton Hall some eight years before, his squire and attendants were left without a lord to follow; their brave knight dying for his rebellion to King Edward. Eleanora Lovaine Douglas, then Lady Bagot, offered

employment to her cousin‘s household. When the lady passed six years later, her own men at arms as well as de Segrave’s former vassals became attendants to her youngest son Sir Archibald. The convenience of English men at arms in escort of the Douglas household would be of enormous benefit Archie decided; he deemed their presence necessary for the peaceful travel of Scots while in England, writ or no writ from dear Edward.

Welcome fendis, Archie bellowed. Greetings to the brother of the Black Douglas, replied the English men at arms in mocked disdain. The Douglas knight enjoyed the salutation and eagerly beckoned his uncle’s generous escort into their manor of Fawdon. And does this knight most recognize one named Henry? he begged to know, seeing the aging knight his mother once employed when at Stebbinge Park. It is indeed I, Sir Archibald, he snickered. Perhaps a challenge of lance the rings, he chided the Scottish knight. It is done, John Douglas replied, coming from the turnpike stairs of the manor house. The Lovaine warrior looked the young squire up and down. A true Douglas is he in every way, he chuckled, boastful and courageous though yet without knowledge of the challenger! Archie laughed loudly remembering how Henry and Sir David of Fairstead, the Englishman’s uncle and Lady Eleanora’s knight, her escort for nearly four decades, were forever putting out a challenge to the Douglas sons in competition of a duel.

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Figure 20-Part One; former location of the Douglas fortress at Fawdon and a much later site of a quarry that is no longer in use

Enough of this brave foolery; we are to travel most to England; not to fight our way south to Essex, Beatrice moaned. "Good wife; a knight’s life is war and preparing for war when we are at peace. Such feats of

competition are for jest and good will; to let the English win a battle from us I would think, he teased. Beatrice was shaking her head; she knew it was futile to try to stop them; a wee Douglas tournament was already in the works, she reflected. Another day in our Fawdon will be acceptable to this lass," she said, resigned to the impending contests of archery and lance the rings and any other feats that could be judged for the victor and the defeated. Before Beatrice had finished her porridge the Douglas, Lovaine and de Segrave men were already in the courtyard of the manor setting up their pell and archery butt with sundry other devices to judge the mettle of their skills.

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Figure 21-Part One; view of the Douglas tower site and pastures of the Fawdon mains from the shepherd’s cottage at the Clinch; in 1329 King Edward III restored lands and castles held by William le Hardi in England that were seized in 1297 for his rebellion

with William Wallace, to his son and heir James Lord Douglas as special favor

The younger children were outdoors by the healing gardens; young William was showing the wee Archibald how to play Tali; a game of knucklebones. The four sides of each game piece were inscribed with symbols of Roman numerals. The Douglas groom had just finished painting one new set for the children to use as jacks; the vertebrae coming from a goat that died the last winter. Another grouping of the sun-dried backbones was slightly larger, from a sheep that was slaughtered for its great age at the manor the month past. Beatrice wanted those Tali for her own use; she would paint them with symbols to divine the future she confided to her daughter. Stand there wee one, William patiently explained. This lad will show you how to play; but only to watch are you this day. Archibald was not impressed; he demanded to be allowed to participate. For you to know of counting first, the older cousin replied. See here, this symbol must be read. The youngest Douglas frowned; try as he did, he could not decipher

the numerals one from the other and tears began to fill his eyes for his unrequited determination.

Perhaps you would like to learn another game, young William suggested, recognizing his younger cousin’s woeful countenance. The page noted that the three year old was bravely gritting his teeth to hold back his tears; the wee Archibald feeling more than a little frustrated that he could not read or compete like the older lads. William grabbed the younger Douglas’ hand. Let us try a game of skill; this of chance is foolery I do know it, he scoffed, trying to minimize the game’s importance. Here, this ring must go on this wooden post, he said showing the lad rope rings for a contest of ring toss.

The wee knave took the biggest of the five rings; his eyes grew large in anticipation for the feat at hand. William took hold of his right arm. We shall join forces, he jovially suggested to the laddie. The page guided his younger cousin, taking his right hand in his as they aligned their throwing arms. Let it go the noo! he shouted. Perfectly on cue, Archibald opened his palm and