A Dreadful Punishment – looking into the crime of “Petty Treason” and the beliefs surrounding it.

By Lindsay Townsend

There were a series of crimes in the Middle Ages that were thought so dreadful they were considered to be a form of treason. High treason is the offence of attempting to injure or kill the king or queen, and little or petty treason involves any “underling” killing his or her superior Under the law of petty treason, codified in 1351, wives accused of murdering their husbands, or clergy killing their prelates, or a servant killing his or her master or mistress could be tried under this charge.

                                                  

Why were such crimes considered treason? In the Middle Ages, hierarchy was seen as natural, as part of good order, created and ordained by God.  God was always seen as male and at the apex of creation. Earth mirrored heaven, it was believed, and so man was held above woman. To a medieval man, a wife should obey her husband and be inferior to him, and the same was believed to be true for servants and their masters and mistresses.

Attitudes held at the time and the the demands of the church reinforced such ideas. One of the most popular lay stories of the fourteenth century was that of Patient Griselda, who submits to her odious husband while he takes her children from her, tells her he has killed them and finally tells Griselda he has divorced her. As an ideal, patient wife, Griselda then forgives him when her bullying husband reveals that all these ordeals have been fake and a test of her obedience. The church may have raised the Virgin Mary as a perfect woman but all other females and wives were said to be tainted by the sin of Eve, tempted by Satan in the guise of a serpent into stealing an apple from the tree of knowledge and then tempting her husband Adam into sharing it with her. For that sin, the church believed women should be subservient to their husbands.

The message was clear: wives must obey. To murder one’s husband (whom a medieval wife had promised to obey in the marriage ceremony) was seen as the ultimate betrayal, a deadly, intimate act. Servants, too, were encouraged to be servile, especially since they lived with the family, inside the family.

Writing as I do about relationships and romance, I am particularly appalled by the crime of petty treason. For a wife convicted of it, the punishment was dreadful – she was burnt at the stake. It was a crime where the same act – murder of a spouse – was treated in different ways. A man could kill his wife and be tried for murder, but a wife killing her husband was committing treason. A man was allowed to beat his wife because, it was believed by philosophers like Thomas Aquinas that women were less capable of reason than men. This last did mean, strangely enough, that women could be acquitted of the crime of Petty Treason if it was discovered that she had no “accomplices”. Women were not considered able to murder their husbands alone! So in 49 cases of husband killing brought before the justices in medieval Yorkshire and Essex, 32 were released. For those desperate women who were convicted however, a terrible fate awaited. In one of my novels, A Taste of Evil, I have my heroine Alyson accused of the crime of petty treason, with that barbaric threat hanging over her.

  

This horrific punishment was the same as for relapsed heretics and for the same reason. For a wife to kill her husband was seen as a form of heresy, a move against God’s order. Some “mercy” could be offered by the executioner’s choking the woman by cords before the flames touched her, but that often went wrong as the cords could also be burnt by the fire. The law was finally repealed in 1790.

[Renaissance image of Patient Griselda from Wikimedia Commons]

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Scandal: Captain George Bisset's Trial

By Michelle Styles

In 1782, the chattering classes of Britain and the United States were held transfixed by the trial of George Bisset for criminal conversation. The transcript had seven printings in the first year--even George Washington requested one.

The action was brought by Sir Richard Worsley and he claimed damages of £20,000. In 1775, Worsley had married a very rich heiress, Seymour Dorothy Fleming. At first they were the perfect power couple of Georgian England. Sir Richard became a rising star in Lord North's government and Lady Worsley was popular in the ton. They had a son, Robert Edwin, within a year or two of the marriage and to the outside word, a daughter born August 1781.

However, all was not happy and Sir Richard buried himself in his work and in the Hampshire Militia. Worsley was also a collector of Roman artifacts and there is a suggestion that such men often preferred not to look at women. Lady Worsley would later say that for the the first three months of her marriage, it was like living with a brother. In any case, there is evidence that he did not pay Seymour much attention and Lady Worsley craved attention.

Lady Worsley took a number of discrete lovers. Her friendship with one George M Bisset became something more and she gave birth to their daughter.

On 18 November 1781, she eloped with Bisset, travelling in a carriage from Lewes to London where the pair hid. It can be assumed that Lady Worsley felt a quick divorce would be in the offing and everything would be settled discretely. After all Sir Richard had been content with the previous arrangement and had even accepted Bisset's daughter as his own.

Faced with the humiliation of a runaway wife, Sir Richard decided to take his revenge. He sued George M Bisset for £20,000 in damages. This would have ruined Bisset.

As the pair had been discovered in London, there was no real defence on Bisset's part. He had eloped with another man's wife. However Sir Richard had reckoned without his estranged wife. Rather than allow her lover to be ruined, Seymour decided to run the defence that not only had her husband known about her various relationships, he had approved of them.

Thus a series of men were called who gave discrete evidence about relations with Seymour. All of London, in particular the demi-monde, turned out to hear the case.

However, it was the evidence of the bath lady that stunned the court. She could well remember that sunny day when the Worsleys and Captain Bisset came to use her bath house. She had helped Lady Worsley undress. Suddenly she had heard Sir Richard saying in a loud voice: "Seymour, Seymour, Bisset is looking at you." Furthermore, the bath lady announced the only way Bisset could have achieved this feat was by standing on Sir Richard's shoulders. In short, Sir Richard had been exposed as a voyeur. The cartoonists had a field day and ever afterward, people would think of the cartoons rather his collection of Roman cameos or his position as counsel in Venice.

The jury took every little time in deliberating. Sir Richard won his case but was rewarded one shilling for his trouble rather than the fortune he had demanded. A transcript of the trial can be seen here.

While the case was going on, Lord North's government was busy collapsing and it has been speculated that because Sir Richard was distracted, the government fell and a government that was sympathetic to ending the American Revolution was installed.

Sir Richard, his career and reputation in ruins, took more revenge by refusing to divorce Seymour. They formally separated in 1788 and she was only entitled to pin money, rather than her extensive dowry. Neither did she have any access to her lavish wardrobe or jewels. Seymour and Bisset's love affair ended as they could not marry and she took a series of lovers in order to survive (as well to rub her husband's nose in her notoriety).

Unfortunately Sir Richard also refused to allow her access to either of her children and the little daughter died. Seymour suspected that the death was from neglect. There was further tragedy when their son, in his late teens, died due to an accident with the militia. Because of the Napoleonic War, their son had not been able to have Grand Tour (not considered safe) but had served for a time with the Hampshire Militia.

It was only after Sir Richard's death that Seymour regained control of her fortune. She eventually married a second time--to a much younger man. She was never received in polite society again but was eventually allowed to have some contact with her sister and mother.

If you are interested in the scandal, Hallie Rubenfield wrote a comprehensive account of it in Lady Worsley's Whim.

Professions: The Barrister

By Jennifer Linforth

"You know you're a word slut?"

That was brought to my attention after a speaking engagement I participated in last June. My critique partner, Nina Pierce, whispered them to me as I was conversing with a group regarding the historical use of a colorful word.

I admit it. I can be far too curious for my own good sometimes. So when I innocently inquired of an attorney why they all dream of knighthood with that Esquire-thingy at the end of their names the response was: "I dare you to find out."

I am sure there are dozens of authors reading this blog with raised brows now. One thing you never do is dare an author. Anything you say and do can and will be held against you in one of our novels. Perfect subject for a blog about professions--even if it did stem from a dare.

But first, what the heck is a barrister? The word pops up in historicals all the time. They are legal advisers and court room advocates trained to advise clients on the strengths and weaknesses of their case. They are formally trained experts in their field with knowledge in and out of court that can make or break the outcome of a case. Since the 13th century barristers have been providing expert advice and advocacy on the law. In the past they had a monopoly on representing people in the higher courts.

A barrister is not to be confused with a solicitor! A solicitor has exclusive rights of giving oral or written legal advice. A barrister has the rights of preparing and conducting litigation in the courts.

So now we know what a barrister is and what he does, but that does not satisfy a historical word slut pushed to the bar on a dare.

BAR -- not it is not a place to slug down jello-shots folks! That would make our editors whip out the blue ink of doom and question our historical minded sanity. The famous BAR is named from the two rails in a courtroom, one which separated the judge’s bench from the rest of the court and the other which marked an area for lawyers to engage in their arguments. Speakers or those appearing in court were "called to the bar"--an honor in its day...

Now in historical fiction we use have the word BARRISTER and thus connect it to law: A counselor who is learned in law and admitted to appear at that bar and defend clients. Inner barristers, benchers and readers were admitted to work within the bar as king;s counsel...

The English Crown established in the 1600s a formal registry in London where barristers were ordered to be accredited. The acronym BAR denoted the British Accredited Registry and those members also became members of the IBA (International Bar Association). The first American BAR was created, according to my research, in Boston during the 1700s.

Now there is where I hang Mr. Attorney by his bollocks. Where did the term attorney come from and what are they?

ATTORN: meaning atorner (assign, appoint, etc.) One definition, in law, is to formally transfer one's tenancy, to make legal acknowledgement of tenancy to a landlord. Or if we look historically into feudal law from the Latin ad and torno, it was to transfer homage and service from one lord to another.

Still with me?

ATTORNMENT -- the act where a feudatory, vassal or tenant consents upon the transfer of an estate to receive a new lord or superior, thus transferring homage. Bottom line, through the years attornment means to transfer stuff...much easier just to say that. Write tight you know!

So continuing to beat Mr. Attorney with his gavel we have...

ATTORNEY -- one who transfers or assigns, within the bar, another's rights and property acting on behalf of the ruling crown. Are the readers seeing the pattern there of crown, lords and land? Keep that in mind as we get to those three little letters, ESQ, that made this attorney want to turn me into a whore.

U.S. Attorneys take the post-nominal honorific of Esquire after their names, derived from the British word "squire." Any historical novelist is well aware of the squire, which in Great Britain was the title of a gentleman next in rank to a knight. However, it was also an attendant in court.

The esquire was a young nobleman in training for knighthood and who acted as the shield-bearer and attendant to a knight. Here is where the historical novelist waxes poetic, whether correct or not, on the blatant symbolism in that. Shield = defense. Defense = law.

I so dig it.

An Esquire was also a man of a higher peerage ranking below the knight but also any various officers in service to the king or nobles. Esquires dealt with attornment and transfer of property from the nobleman they served.

Final thoughts?

That tiny mention of Esquire (Esq) at the end of a counselor's name is a reflection of an inner desire to wear tights, follow around their superiors, buy and sell property, and visit history through the imagination of writers of historical fiction.

I don't know why those in the law fascinate me, the just do. Rock on Mr. Attorney. That ESQ is very sexy--but never attempt to dare an author. Our letters are sexy too: ISBN. We will throw the book at you every time.

Famous People: William the Conqueror

By Lisa Yarde

William the Conqueror is one of the world's most famous bastards.

Not in the contemporary sense--though his enemies might have agreed--but because he rose above his birth to become Duke of Normandy and King of England. His impact on history is reflected in English law and language, and in the dominance of feudalism.

Image: William the Conqueror

Born in 1027, William was the only acknowledged son of Robert I of Normandy, alternatively known by the epithets "the Devil" or "the Magnificent" during his life. Allegedly, Robert first saw William's would-be mother Herleva from his castle at Falaise, Normandy, while she was dyeing leather. Robert promptly fell in lust and ordered the daughter of a local tanner to his bed. His mother's heritage haunted William all his life. In 1047, at William's siege of Alençon, a buffer state between Normandy and Maine, its people hung animal skins over the walls to taunt the young duke. When William captured Alençon, he cut off the hands of his tormentors.

This occurred many years after a fraught upbringing. William's father went on pilgrimage to the Holy Land in 1035. Robert died on the return journey, but before he left Normandy, he had proclaimed his illegitimate son his heir. Raised by his paternal uncle, the Archbishop of Rouen and other guardians, William survived several assassination attempts even before he became an adult. He enjoyed the support of King Henry I of France during the early years, but rivalry between the two men led to warfare in 1054 and 1057.

William married Matilda of Flanders, who bore him four sons and at least four daughters. As with most events in William's life, his union with Matilda did not begin easily. His first envoys to the Flemish court received a stinging rejection from Matilda; as a descendant of Alfred the Great of England and the French kings, she refused to marry William because of his mother's low origins and his birth.

But William did not give up. Allegedly, he rode one summer to Flanders, pulled Matilda from her horse and beat her. Whatever her feelings about this episode, Matilda changed her mind about the bastard duke. Theirs seems to have been a long and happy union, altered only by the rebellions of their oldest son Robert against his father. Matilda died in 1083; when her bones were exhumed, she measured little more than four feet tall, one of England's smallest queens but a match for the strength of her husband.

William had connections to the English court through his great aunt, Queen Emma, the mother of England's Edward the Confessor. The English king had also spent several years in Normandy as a young man and emulated Norman dress and architecture. King Edward had married Edith, a daughter of the powerful Godwin clan. When he died childless, the succession was at risk.

His brother in-law Harold Godwinson claimed the crown, but so did William of Normandy, who claimed that not only had Edward the Confessor named him heir to the throne, but Harold had sworn an oath on holy relics to support the claim.

When William learned Harold had been crowned king in January 1066, he supposedly withdrew from an afternoon of hunting and spoke to no one for several days. But this depression did not last. He summoned a war council and planned an invasion. He arrived on England’s southern coast at an optimal time; Harold was north battling Harald Hardrada for the throne, the first of two threats the English would face that year. When Harold won his first battle, he rapidly marched his army south. The Normans and English met near Hastings in October 1066. William defeated his enemy and became King of England two months later.

Image: Battle of Hastings, from the Bayeux Tapestry

Not bad for an illegitimate son who started out with an uncertain future.