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Mistley Pond |
Sweet dreams...
Welcome to Alison's archive blog page.
To find out more about Alison and for a chance for free reads and contests click the link below.
As halloween approaches, I thought it timely to share a post from the Hoydens and Firebrands blog. A tale of witches and the real life 'Witch Finder General' - Matthew Hopkins...
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So as Halloween approaches and thoughts turn to âghosties and ghoulies and long legged beasties and things that go bump in the nightâ, I cast around for an appropriate topic for this post. There are others who are experts in the area of seventeenth century witches but, in the memory of âWitch Baneâ, I thought I might have a look at one person whose name inspired fear throughout England of the 1640s and 1650s⦠Matthew Hopkins - The Witchfinder General.
"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live" EXODUS xxn. 18
In 1604 James I passed the the Witchcraft Statute which made âwitchcraftâ a capital offence if the victim was injured. It also incorporated a number of continental notions of witchcraft, including those of, a pact with, and worship of, the devil and made the exhumation of bodies for âmagical purposesâ a crime. This statute remained in force until 1736, when it was finally repealed. Following the Lancashire witch trials of 1634, there was a requirement of material proof of being a witch (some physical manifestion of a pact with the devil).
Little is known of Matthew Hopkinsâ early life. It is thought he was born in Little Wenham in Suffolk in the early 1620s (making him a comparitively young man at the time he rose to infamy). It is postulated that he studied law.
The English Civil War (1642-1645) was at its height when Matthew first comes to public notice. In a country torn apart by violence, politics and religion and where fear and superstition prevailed, the moment was opportune for a young man with a fervent belief that he had the power to rid the country of witches and in 1644 we have the first public mention of Matthew. Essex and the Eastern counties where Matthew worked was the seat of power for the puritan forces and it is from this seething hot bed of religious fervour that the witch mania rose.
As a consequence a trial of twenty three women was held at Chelmsford in 1645. Four died in prison and nineteen were hung. Following the notoriety of that trial Hopkins and Stearne became self appointed âwitch findersâ (the term Witch Finder General bears no official stamp of approval). The work of carrying out the âprickingâ was done by well paid (and no doubt zealous) female assistants. In the vacuum of proper authority caused by the war, Hopkins and Stearne operated throughout the eastern counties with relative impunity.
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He wrote a pamphlet describing his methods - The Discovery of Witches - which made its way across the Atlantic to the new colonies and his methods were employed in the witch trials of the New World, most notably the Salem witch trial of the 1690s.
However by 1647 Hopkins began to run into opposition. Sermons were preached against the work of Hopkins and Stearne and his methods (and the fees he charged for his work) were called into question by the authorities in Norfolk.
Matthew Hopkins died in August 1647 in his home town of Manningtee in Essex. While it is more than likely that nothing more extraordinary than tuberculosis carried him off, for such a controversial figure there is a legend that he met his end after being accused of witchcraft and subjected to his own âswimmingâ test. It is said his ghost haunts the pond at Mistley.
The last execution in England for witchcraft was Alicia Molland who was executed in Essex in March 1684,he last conviction in 1712
And in the spirit of Halloween here is the master of horror himself, Vincent Price, in his 1968 portrayal of Matthew Hopkins in the film "The Witchfinder General".
Sweet dreams...
This post is a repost of a blog I wrote following my 2015 visit to the city of Worcester, site of the last full scale pitched battle on English soil - 3 September 1651.
For the supporters of the young King Charles II it was the end of their dreams of restoring the monarchy and the beginning of almost ten long year of 'republican' rule known as the Interregnum, ending with the restoration of Charles II in 1660. My 3 book series GUARDIANS OF THE CROWN covers this period of the Interregnum and for the three main characters (Jonathan - BY THE SWORD, Kit - THE KING'S MAN and Daniel - EXILE'S RETURN) the Battle of Worcester defined the rest of their lives. On a canal bank in Worcester, I met with my 'imaginary friends' and we walked their battle...
The 3rd September marked the 364th anniversary of the Battle of Worcester, the defining event of the Guardians of the Crown series which begins with the battle itself (BY THE SWORD).
My family has had a long, long association with Worcester, most notably boasting a High Sheriff of Worcester (my great grandfather) and a well respected MP and County Councillor (my grandfather) and my father served under the colours of the now defunct Worcestershire Regiment.
In May this year I returned (or, in a sense, went home) - on a canal boat (a whole other story!). My last visit to Worcester had been some twenty plus years ago when I was researching a little story I was writing about the Battle of Worcester. That little story became BY THE SWORD... which flowed on to THE KING'S MAN and on to Book 3, EXILES' RETURN (which comes out next February). I wanted to write about a group of friends/comrades and what this seminal battle of the English Civil War meant to them and their families.
We moored our canal boat below the Sidbury Lock within spitting distance of The Commandery and the site of what was once the Sidbury Gate through the walls of the old city (now long since gone). Having an afternoon free, I abandoned my travelling companions and stepped down on to the tow path of the canal (which had not been there in 1651). They were waiting for me - Jonathan Thornton, Giles Longley, Kit Lovell and his brother Daniel, the Guardians of Crown, my companions from the past and they would be my guides for the afternoon.
We began with The Commandery (that was its name long before the events of 1651). In its past it had been a merchant's house, a hospital and in 1651 became the Headquarters for Charles II.
(Jonathan) attended the meetings at the Commandery and concluded the house had been wrongly named. He saw precious little evidence of command taking place within its walls...In the endless councils that took place in the hall the young King found himself assailed from all sides by conflicting advice. (BY THE SWORD)
From The Commandery we set off up the hill to Fort Royal where a royalist battery had been established to defend the approach to Worcester along the Sidbury road. I won't go into the details of the battle itself (I've written about it elsewhere...click HERE). Suffice to say that while the royalists held Fort Royal, Cromwell had taken Red Hill and Perry Hill. The king himself led an attack on Red Hill but was driven back to the city. Fort Royal fell, the royalist defenders slaughtered to a man and the guns turned on the city itself.
My American readers may be interested to know that it was on this hill that an oak tree was planted in commemoration of a visit by Thomas Jefferson who is quoted as reminding all Englishmen that it was at Worcester that the concept of Liberty was fought for... you can read his quote on the plaque below...
My companions led me back down the hill toward Sidbury Gate...
The Parliament guns had been brought to bear on the gate, turning the retreat into
wholesale slaughter. Amidst the screaming of man and beast, the carnage of blood and guts and with shot pounding into the walls and the city, the King managed to get back through the gate. Jonathan followed through the confusion, scrambling over an overturned oxen cart to reach his King. (BY THE SWORD)
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Wilmot pulled at Jonathanâs arm and they both ran up Friar Street, toward the Kingâs lodging. Jonathan took only one look back to see Giles, fighting like a virago, a small defence against the mass of red-coated soldiers who now flooded into the city from all gates except one: St Martinâs Gate stood close by the Kingâs lodging and remained as yet unbreached. (BY THE SWORD)
It was here in Friar Street that Jonathan, Giles, Kit and Daniel lodged in a house that may have looked a little like Greyfriars (now a National Trust property). Here they played cards on the night before the battle.
Another evening at the Commandery had ended in bickering and Jonathan trudged wearily back up Friar Street to his billet ... In the downstairs parlour of the large, half-timbered house, Giles played cards with Kit Lovell, who had recently rejoined them. They were both fiendish card players, with a tendency to cheat, and Jonathan declined their invitation to join them. (BY THE SWORD)
Further up Friar Street we came to the building now known as The Charles II house (and rather ignomiously - a pie shop) which
They found the King within his lodgings, watching uncomprehendingly as Buckingham burned papers on a hastily lit fire.
âWe must go, Your Majesty,â Wilmot said.
The King looked up at his old friend and advisor. âLeslie will come,â he insisted. âWe will rally again.â
âNo, Your Majesty,â Buckingham spoke. âItâs too late. Leslie has failed us, Hamilton is fallen. We must away while we still have breath in our bodies.â
The noise of the fighting, drawing closer up the street, brought the King to his feet. With the Parliamentâs soldiers at the front door of the house, the King and his party left by the back. Taking the nearest horses they fled, at a hard gallop, through St Martinâs Gate, the gate that led the way to the north. (BY THE SWORD)
Here we parted company, my imaginary friends returning to the past, and I trudged back through the streets of Worcester to meet my real friends at the Worcester Porcelain museum (in what had been a thriving factory on my last visit).
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August 18th 2016 marks the one hundredth anniversary of the death of Captain Richard Conway-Lowe MC at Pozieres. Richard was my grandfather's cousin and I couldn't let this significant date in the family's annals go unmarked.
What follows is a repost of a blog I did some time ago about my search for Richard and the deeply moving effect it had on me. Since writing the original post I discovered that among other things at 6' 7" Richard was the tallest man in the British Army. I had the pleasure of dedicating one of the Tower of London poppies in his memory and of hearing his name read out at the evening roll call. NOT FORGOTTEN. Tears on the Western Front
My husband, who prefers to keep his cyber identity private so I shall call "D", and I met in the Army Reserve (Officer Training...he lent me a pencil for my navigation exercise...etc. etc.). We both served in the Australian Army for just on twenty years each before a move to Singapore put an end to both our careers. One thing all those years instilled in us was a mutual interest in military history.
Dâs grandfather fought with the Australian Army in World War One. He had been in the second wave at Gallipoli and the family had always assumed he had sustained his wound there. Until D started researching his grandfatherâs history, no one knew he had served in France. He would talk about Gallipoli but never the Western Front and it was on the Western Front, in the bitter fighting on the Somme he had been wounded in the left arm.
My own grandfather (on my mother's side) was a medic in the British Army and served, as far as we know, for most of the war in the Middle East. He joined up after his eldest brother had been killed near Basrah in modern Iraq. Many people may think the medics had a cushy job but quite often they put their own lives on the line to rescue the wounded and transport them back to the casualty clearing stations. Mercifully he survived unscathed but his experience may explain why he never settled to normal life in Yorkshire and accepted a posting in the civil service in Kenya (Colonial East Africa), taking his new bride with him, a young lass who had never even been to London.
In 2005, D and I finally achieved a long held ambition to visit the Battlefields of World War One. We began in Ypres in Belgium, that beautiful medieval cloth town so comprehensively destroyed in the war. Together we walked the city walls finding little war cemeteries along the way and joined the solemn crowds at the Menin Gate for the service of commemoration which is held every night.
What I hadnât been prepared for was the wave of emotion that surged through me as I stood looking down at the simple white grave stone. All I knew about Richard Conway Lowe had been gleaned from a few family photographs of a rather solemn little boy with fair hair and glasses. Family history recounts he had been a good student at Winchester and Oxford and had been destined to go into the Church. I also knew he was 6â 7â. He came from a respectable middle class family in Edgbaston near Birmingham and on the outbreak of war, he joined one of the local Warwickshire volunteer regiments. I didnât know he was only 22 years old when he died. He was the same age as my eldest son. As I laid the little poppy I had bought with me, I touched the gravestone and thought how many, many years it had been since anyone grieved at this graveside. The entire family line had effectively died out with this boy. I sat on the grass beside his headstone and the tears welled up.
"Second Lieutenant Richard Conway Lowe., 1st/6th Battalion, The Royal Warwickshire Regiment, Territorial Force.
For conspicuous gallantry on 4th November, 1915, in France.
When directing a working party in front of the parapet, the Germans opened fire and wounded a man of the covering party. Second Lieutenant Lowe and a Serjeant rushed to his aid, and although the Serjeant was grazed by a bullet and Second Lieutenant Lowe shot in the thigh, the bullet being subsequently found in the wound, they carried the wounded man across the open and through the wire into a place of safety.
Second Lieutenant Lowe had previously been wounded, and had been brought to notice for excellent work at the front." (London Gazette Issue 29371 16 November 1916)
He received his medal personally at Buckingham Palace in January 1916 while home recovering from his wound. He was killed in action on August 18, 1916. The Germans had been in occupation of Pozieres since 1914 and in July 1916 the allies commenced one of the bloodiest battles on the Western Front...the recapture of Pozieres and to secure the high ground behind it. When I looked to see what action had taken place on that day, "British advance from Pozieres to Somme; ground gained towards Ginchy and Guillemont." Just another day on the Western Front.
After his death his mother, Marie Lowe, worked tirelessly in organising women volunteers for the provision of laundry services to the hospitals in Birmingham coping with the needs of the wounded. By Dec 1917 over 4000 articles a week passed through the hands of the 70 VAD volunteers and 8 paid laundresses. The family history relates that his father, Conway, "never really recovered from the death of his elder son". He fell out with his business partners and "These two blows left Conway a broken man, and Marie had to become the decision maker and mainstay of the family."
Many of the villages through which they passed had been completely destroyed leaving nothing more than piles of rubble where there had once been a bustling little town with bakers, butchers, churches and homes. Some new buildings had begun to rise from the ruins, but the deeper they drove into the Ypres Salient, the more dismal the landscape became. What had once been fields were now nothing more than wild earthworks from a painting of hell, dotted with small cemeteries of rows of white crosses, like a grim harvest of death..." For more about the First World War and the inspiration for Gather the Bones, see my post on "A Michelin Guide to a Story Idea" first published on Historical Hearts.
![]() Writing used to be such a lonely business but the joy of the internet is that writers can now form their own communities across the miles and when M.J.Logue asked me to participate in a charity anthology, I was both pleased and honoured to be asked. TALES FROM THE SERGEANT'S PACK is now available on Amazon. I didn't know Peter 'Tiny' Castle (aka Sergeant Cullis) but he was an enthusiastic Napoleonic era re-enactor who loved a good wine and a good story. He died too young and this anthology is dedicated to his memory. But more than that, having friends who work in the palliative care area I know how important and precious the care of the dying is and I am enormously proud to know that the proceeds from the sale of TALES FROM THE SERGEANT'S PACK will be going to support the work of St. Luke's Hospice in Plymouth. The anthology comprises eight never before published short stories set in the era of the Napoleonic wars... some historical fiction and some historical romance, but all touching on this period of history that Tiny loved so much. And my contribution... a bitter sweet story of love rediscovered on the eve of Napoleon's escape from Elba! A Person of No Consequence February 1815: Fabien, Comte de Mont Clair, once a highly decorated officer of the exiled Napoleon, cuts a dashing swathe through a London society ball, his eyes only for the glittering ladies of the 'ton'. His heart jolts at the sight of a woman sitting in a shadowed corner. Not just any woman, but one he would have once given the world for. For Hannah, Lady Trevan, catering to the spoiled darlings of the ton as a humble chaperone is nothing compared to the pain she suffered at the hands of her late husband. Alone and impoverished, she is a person of no consequence but once, a long time ago, she sacrificed her world for the dashing Comte de Mont Clair. Now all she can do is hope that he may glance her way… ALL PROCEEDS TO ST. LUKE'S HOSPICE, PLYMOUTH!
Go on – admit it! You are a little bit curious about the wonderful world of historical romance.
You must have asked yourself at some point… Does a bodice really rip? Did Barbara Cartland really dictate all her historical romances to a secretary while sipping gin and cuddling Pekinese? Do modern day historical romance writers waft around in pink boas or eke out their sad, lonely little lives bent over the kitchen table while wearing fluffy slippers and a chenille dressing gown? Three modern day historical romance writers are coming to the Willy Lit Fest to answer all your questions. Among other things, we will discuss why we write historical romance. Famous and infamous figures who lived during the periods we write include Napoleon, Mad King George and Jane Austen. The world was in constant turmoil. England fought a bloody civil war, beheaded a king and lost the War of Independence for the United States of America. Firstly, what is ‘romance’… and before you curl your lip, bear in mind that there is ‘romance’ in just about every book you have ever read! According to the Romance Writers of America… Two basic elements comprise every romance novel: a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending. A Central Love Story: The main plot centres around individuals falling in love and struggling to make the relationship work. A writer can include as many subplots as he/she wants as long as the love story is the main focus of the novel. An Emotionally Satisfying and Optimistic Ending: In a romance, the lovers who risk and struggle for each other and their relationship are rewarded with emotional justice and unconditional love. Romance novels may have any tone or style, be set in any place or time, and have varying levels of sensuality—ranging from sweet to extremely hot. These settings and distinctions of plot create specific subgenres within romance fiction. Click here to better understand the subgenres within romance. For those who like statistics… bear these figures in mind. In 2014, PRINT book sales in the US ‘Romance’ accounted for 31 million sales (just behind ‘General’ fiction at 34 million sales). The next highest seller in fiction was Suspense/Thrillers at 20million (figures Bookscan via Publishers Weekly) Top romance subgenres by format read primarily:
Come and meet us and guess what… I don’t think we own a chenille dressing gown between us! Alison Stuart is a local Williamstown resident, a ‘recovering’ lawyer and a former army officer. Sasha Cottman is a Yarraville resident, finance executive and Regency period blogger. Beverley Eikli is a full-time writer, former journalist, airborne geophysical survey operator and safari lodge manager. We are thrilled to be invited to talk about, dare I say it, genre fiction among this august gathering of literary notables and apart from chocolate and prizes, we can promise you something a little bit different… So! Is your curiosity piqued? We will be featuring in Historical Romance in the 21 Century: Beyond Barbara Cartland in the Library Auditorium on Saturday 18 June at 3.30pm . Tickets available now and our books will be available for sale and signing after the session. |
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