Andrew Hopper

'Fitted for Desperation': Honour and Treachery in Parliament's Yorkshire Command, 1642–1643

In the course of 1643 no fewer than five of Yorkshire’s MPs, who had supported parliament at the outbreak of civil war, defected to the king, and as many as another seventeen of the county’s leading gentry and army officers either did so or were strongly suspected of doing so. The MPs were Sir John Hotham, his son John Hotham, Sir Hugh Cholmley, Sir Henry Anderson and Michael Wharton. Although the drift towards royalist allegiance was by no means restricted to Yorkshire, this article will focus on that county as it provides an outstanding yet hitherto neglected example. From an early stage this split within the parliamentarian command was clearly evident in religious differences and rival conceptions of honour and civic virtue. The motivations of those who changed their allegiance were primarily rooted in concern for the safety of their estates and fears of social and religious radicalism. Had these defectors combined their efforts, parliament would probably have lost the war.

THE FARNLEY WOOD PLOT AND THE MEMORY OF THE CIVIL WARS IN YORKSHIRE

The Northern Risings of 1663 are remarkably little-known episodes, scarcely a postscript to the triumph of the Restoration. As with most rebellions that dissolve before properly beginning, their historical significance is generally dismissed. Yet twenty-six rebels were condemned to death; sixteen of them were hanged, drawn, and quartered at York on one morning, providing a spectacle on a scale unseen in the city for nearly a century. Nearly all of those executed were West Riding men involved in the rebel muster at Farnley Wood; the government was conspicuously lenient towards the rebels of the North Riding, Durham, and Westmorland. This is an investigation into the background of the risings, in particular the West Riding episode. It tackles the wider question of the Restorations impact on local communities that had been strongly parliamentarian, and in so doing, examines how the gentrys relationship with those of lower social status was transformed by the experience of civil war and interregnum.

The Wortley Park Poachers and the Outbreak of the English Civil War

Abstract On the eve of the Civil War, Sir Francis Wortleys deer park near Sheffield attracted the persistent attention of well armed plebeian poachers. The killing of Wortleys deer was an act of defiance that slighted his honour. His reputation was further undermined by the verbal abuse of several yeoman, prompting him into defending his reputation in the West Riding Quarter Sessions and the High Court of Chivalry. An examination of this litigation leads into a discussion of Sir Franciss concept of honour, distrust of popular politics and identification with the ideology of Charles Is personal rule. A micro-history approach to Sir Francis and his poacher enemies addresses the historiographical debate over whether deference or defiance defined plebeian attitudes to the ruling elite. It also impacts upon the formation of popular allegiance at the outbreak of civil war, and Wortleys brief notoriety as a national figure when he drew his sword for the King at York on 30 April 1642.

The Reluctant Regicide? Thomas Wayte and the Civil Wars in Rutland

Abstract This article contributes to recent historiographical debates concerning the trial and execution of Charles I by examining the experiences of one of his least known judges, Thomas Wayte, the Parliamentarian Governor of Rutland. It will examine his career to highlight his possible motives for signing the king’s death warrant before highlighting the importance of his post-Restoration testimony for understanding the legal proceedings during the last days of Charles I.

Book Review: Stuart Carroll, Blood and Violence in Early Modern France, Oxford University Press: Oxford, 2006; 369 pp., 14 illus., 1 map, 2 tables; 0199290458, £60 (hbk)

outlook, hopeful that conditional recognition could be of utility in regulating other ethnic conflicts. However, if international recognition of Yugoslav republics is to be used as a potential blueprint for resolving conflicts marked by a territorial dispute, one must look deeper into the reasoning behind the decision by the Europeans and the Americans to recognize the largest of Yugoslavia’s administrative units – the republics – as new states, thereby internationalizing the internal boundaries established by the Yugoslav Communist leadership. Caplan embarks valiantly on this endeavour as a political scientist, but relies principally on the legal opinions issued by the Arbitration Commission, an ad hoc body composed by a distinguished group of European constitutional lawyers summoned by the Peace Conference on Yugoslavia in 1991. Prominent international law experts such as Lalonde, Radan and others have fiercely disputed the Arbitration Commission’s opinions, opposing the use of the principle of uti possidetis, partially applied in the decolonization process to render former colonies international states, legally to support the international recognition of Yugoslav administrative boundaries. Caplan’s work, based on a close analysis of both academic and policy texts, allows for a better appreciation of Germany’s role and the political intricacies surrounding international recognition of the former Yugoslav republics. Although other scholars and international lawyers may not subscribe to all of Caplan’s conclusions, he compellingly argues in favour of linking recognition and democratization policies, with two key lessons learnt: first, the legal controversy surrounding the recognition of the former Yugoslav republics must be acknowledged and then avoided in the development of future recognition policies; second, full implementation of the conditions attached to recognition must be ensured if a positive contribution is to be rendered to conflict management.

Duelling and the Court of Chivalry in Early Stuart England

On 9 February 1640, William Viscount Monson caught Robert Welch esquire cheating during a game of piquet at Welch’s house in St Martin’s Lane, London. According to the depositions later made in the High Court of Chivalry, Welch had palmed two of the cards and then attempted to discard them when Monson was not looking. When Monson challenged him, Welch lost his temper and without attempting to deny the imputation tried to turn it against Monson by announcing before the rest of the company, ‘I will baffle you, just as you have been baffled by every boy in the town.’ Welch appears to have been using the term ‘baffle’ in both its seventeenth-century meanings — that is to publicly disgrace a nobleman and to trick, cheat or confound someone. By exploiting the ambiguity of the term he was attempting to humiliate Monson by implying that he was a simpleton, with too little wit to recognize the tricks that had been played on him since he had come up to the metropolis. Monson, unarmed and in the presence of Welch’s friends, decided that discretion was the better part of valour and beat a hasty retreat. But the furious Welch followed him into the street challenging him to duel and offering to lend him his sword if he would only fight. Monson, on his own account, remained a model of coolness, declaring, ‘I beseech you Mr Welch, let me alone until tomorrow … I will talk with you tomorrow.’ However, the next day he went straight to the Court of Chivalry, just around the corner in Whitehall, and commenced an action against Welch.1