Executed: In the Tang Dynasty

by Jeannie Lin

Despite many tantalizing stories about cruel and unusual punishments in ancient China, for instance the practice of lingchi, also known as slow slicing or death by a thousand cuts, the Tang Dynasty (618-907 AD) actually had one of the most detailed and systematic punishment systems in the ancient world.

The Five Punishments detailed how various crimes should be sentenced. Though not every magistrate necessarily adhered to this code, it prescribed a systematic way for the judicial system to hand down punishment.


The punishments continued to evolve from ancient times and by the Tang Dynasty, the five levels were the following:

1. Caning with the light rod
2. Beating with the heavy rod
3. Penal servitude (forced labor)
4. Exile
5. Death

Punishment for women differed from men however and female criminals were subjected to their own Five Punishments.

1. Forced labor grinding grain
2. Squeezing of fingers between sticks
3. Beating with a wooden staff
4. Permission to commit suicide
5. Confinement

Punishments were determined by a magistrate at a tribunal

 It's surprising to see that at one point during Tang Dynasty, the death penalty was actually abolished. During the reign of Emperor Xuanzong, only the emperor could sentence a convict to death. This resulted in a low number of executions throughout the empire, with only 24 executions in 730 and 58 executions in 736. In the year 747, the emperor abolished the death penalty altogether. However, after his reign was toppled by the An Lushan rebellion, the death penalty was brought back.

But it's no fun to read about how people weren't executed in the Tang Dynasty.
 
The two most common methods of execution were strangulation or beheading. Of the two, beheading was considered to be more cruel since it rendered the body incomplete and unfit for reincarnation.

The cruelest punishment involved not merely execution, but what was known as the nine familial exterminations. This practice was in effect long before the Tang Dynasty and originally dictated the extermination of a criminal's clan or tribe, which constituted an extended family. During the more "humane" times of the Tang Dynasty, the nine familial exterminations were limited to only executing parents, children above sixteen years of age, and other close relatives. Family executions were reserved for the worst of criminals: traitors to the state.

No matter what the law dictated, the one person who was above the law was the Emperor. Surprisingly, one of the cruelest executions in the Tang Dynasty was not sentenced by an Emperor. Rather, it was an execution ordered by an Empress who was going against the Emperor's wishes.

Portrait of Empress Wu Zetian

Empress Wu Zetian (625 - 705 AD) had her rivals, the former Empress Wang and Consort Xiao, accused of witchcraft  and imprisoned in the palace. When the Emperor came to see them, the two women begged for mercy and asked him to remember their past together. The Emperor showed signs of wavering and promised to release them, which only angered Empress Wu more.

She had the two women caned and then cut off their hands and feet. Then she ordered them put into two large wine jars. The two women remained in the jars for days before dying there.

Empress Wu was vilified by later generations as a usurper who tried to start her own Zhou Dynasty in the middle of the Tang Dynasty and so it's possible that stories of her cruelty might be exaggerated, but the story of having two of the Emperor's ex-wives thrown into a wine jar is an execution fit for the ages.

There is a final Halloween twist to the tale: Consort Xiao cursed the Empress before dying, threatening to be reincarnated as a cat and the Empress a mouse so she could, for ever and ever, grab her throat. The Empress banished all cats from her palace after that and was said to be plagued by nightmares of the two woman appearing with tangled hair and bloody limbs to try to kill her.

Vengeful Ghost

The moral of the story is: If you're going to be executed, come up with a curse. And make it a good one.

Happy Halloween! 

 
Jeannie Lin writes historical romances set in Tang Dynasty China. Her next release, THE SWORD DANCER (June 2013), explores crime and punishment and rip-roaring revenge in imperial China. Her current release, MY FAIR CONCUBINE, is currently available from Harlequin Historical. For more information about her books, go to http://www.jeannielin.com

Executed: Immurement

by Heather Domin

Ah, October, my favorite month. I figure if you're gonna go creepy, might as well go as creepy as possible, right? So today we're taking a look at a particularly chilling form of historical execution: immurement, in which the condemned person was built up inside a room, cave, wall, or some other small area, and left to die. Unlike live burial, where the victim suffocates quickly, immurement doomed its sufferers to a long, slow,  painful death from starvation and dehydration. Good times!

Immurement was used as capital punishment by many societies including the Greeks, Romans, Chinese, and others. In ancient Rome, Vestal Virgins who broke their vow of chastity were immured in caves or catacombs as punishment for their lustful ways. In the early days of Christianity several saints were said to have been martyred via immurement, including St. Oran of Iona, who was entombed not once, but twice! (Apparently he was only mostly dead.)

The Julio-Claudians were alarmingly fond of this method of execution. According to the historian Cassius Dio, Antonia Minor, widow of Drusus the Elder, locked her adulterous daughter Livilla in a room until she starved to death as punishment for conspiring to murder her uncle Tiberius. The family of Livilla’s brother Germanicus fared even worse: his widow Agrippina the Elder, daughter Julia Livia, and son Drusus Caesar were all executed, likely by immurement in prison, at the hands of Tiberius. (Moral of the story: don’t get on Tiberius’ bad side.)

Patricia Quinn as the doomed Livilla in I, Claudius

The two most famous cases of immurement happened a few centuries later. When Richard II of England was deposed in 1399, he was held prisoner in Pontefract Castle until his death only a few months later; rumors soon circulated that he’d been shut up in a room and starved to death so his body would show no marks of violence. (One wonders how an emaciated corpse would attract no suspicion.) In 1610 Elizabeth Báthory, the infamous serial killer known as "The Blood Countess", was sentenced for her crimes to a form of prolonged immurement, walled inside the tower of her castle with only a tiny slot left open for food and water. She survived for four years before succumbing to her fate.

Pontefract Castle, where Richard II met his untimely end

Immurement as a form of human sacrifice appears in the folklore of many cultures. Hungarian, Bulgarian, Romanian, Russian, German, Finnish, and Greek legends give accounts of women and children entombed within the walls of bridges and castles as offerings for successful construction; similar "foundation sacrifices" occur in Hebrew, British, and Scandinavian legends, though these victims may have been killed prior to burial. (Either way, I don't recommend looking up "foundation sacrifice" if you intend to get any sleep tonight.)

Elizabeth Bathory, the "Blood Countess"

The terrifying nature of immurement has also made it popular in fiction. In the ancient Greek play Antigone, the title character is sentenced to immurement for defying her uncle the king, though she hangs herself rather than face slow starvation. Immurement is the murder weapon of choice in Oscar Wilde's The Canterville Ghost, and Edgar Allan Poe used it several times, most famously in The Cask of Amontillado. In The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, the villain Injun Joe meets his demise via accidental immurement in a cave. In the Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows several characters suffer immurement, including Barnabas Collins, who is sealed up in the family tomb as an eternal punishment since, being a vampire, he cannot die. Harsh.

Compared to other historical methods of execution, immurement falls pretty low on the scale of spectacle and gore; nobody's going to bring a picnic lunch to watch someone get bricked up in a wall. The torture of immurement was inflicted not by weapons, but by time. This was a form of death for people society wanted to forget. So the next time you visit a medieval castle or walk over an ancient bridge, step lightly – you never know what (or who) you might be walking on. Sweet dreams everyone!

Heather Domin is the author of The Soldier of Raetia, set in Augustan Rome; and Allegiance, set in 1922 Dublin. She is currently preparing for self-immurement to participate in this year's NaNoWriMo, where her only sustenance will be caffeine, Oreos, and pictures of Tom Hiddleston.

Executed: Johnnie Armstrong, King of the Borders

by Blythe Gifford

Today, RETURN OF THE BORDER WARRIOR, the first book of my new trilogy, is scheduled to hit the shelves.  Set on the Scottish-English Borders in the early Tudor era, it was actually inspired by the story of an execution of a famous Border Reiver.

The story is told, or sung, more accurately, in “The Ballad of Johnnie Armstrong.”  Now Johnnie Armstrong, or Johnnie of Gilnocke, as he was also called, was one of the most notorious reivers on the Borders.  Reivers basically stole for a living – cattle, sheep, whatever they needed.  And there were plenty of tales of arson and murder, too.  Despite the presence of special Wardens of the Borders, lawmen assigned to keep the peace, for nearly three hundred years, the only law on the Borders was that made by a sword, a dirk, or a crossbow.

Finally, King James V of Scotland came to the Borders in a desperate attempt to restore order to what was the most lawless ground on the island.  Some suggest he did it because he had something to prove to his uncle, King Henry VIII of England.  At the top of King James’ list was Johnnie Armstrong, also called the “King of the Borders.”

Of course, history is written, or rewritten, by the storytellers.  To the king and the people he preyed on, Johnnie Armstrong might be a despicable man.  But to the songwriter who penned the “Ballad of Johnnie Armstrong,” his hero was a gallant thief, protecting Scotland from the English, and just trying to make his way in the world. 



Johnnie's Gilnockie Tower, with reivers returning from a raid.

According to the balladeer, Johnnie was not lawfully tried and convicted, but basely murdered when he was lured to a meeting with the king by a “loving letter” that insisted he come unarmed.

He did exactly that, along with forty retainers, dressed in their finest splendor to honor the king, expecting to be welcomed with open arms and royal hospitality.

Instead, he and his crew were seized by the king’s men labeled traitors, and fitted with hanging nooses.  Armstrong bargained for his life, and that of his men, with everything he could think of. 

He offered the king all manner of gifts, including “four and twenty milk white steeds” if he were spared.  His final offer was that the king should receive yearly rent, more accurately, the “blackmail” from all dwellers in the area of the Borders where Johnnie held sway, from “Gilnockie to Newcastleton.”

The king had no sympathy and was not open to a bribe. 

Facing death, Johnnie made an impassioned speech, claiming he had never harmed a Scot, but only the English.  The truth of this claim might be open to dispute.  To the local people he had preyed upon, Johnnie’s death might have been a welcome relief.  Indeed, a few years after, Sir David Lindsay, King James’ in house playwright, made mention of it in one of his productions. 

But it is also hard to summon sympathy for the king in the ballad, so deceitful that he tricks his subject into a trap.  The song also suggests the king was jealous of Johnnie’s fine clothes, another less than admirable trait, and perhaps even his title of “King of the Border.” 

Finally, as he realizes he is to die, Johnnie says

“I have asked grace at a graceless face,

But there is none for my men and me.

...

I would have kept the Border side

In spite of thy peers and thee.”

So poor Johnnie and his men were hanged and lived no more.  Neither, legend has it, did the trees from which they swung.

I wanted to rewrite the story.  I wanted Johnnie Armstrong to have a happy ending.

And so began the story of the Brunson Clan.

I’ll be talking about that more, and sharing an excerpt, November 1 and 4.

Blythe Gifford has been known for medieval romances featuring characters born on the wrong side of the royal blanket. Now, she’s launching a new series set on the turbulent Scottish Borders.  The Chicago Tribune has called her work "thee perfect balance between history and romance."

Executed: The Blood Eagle of the Vikings

By Michelle Styles

Viking ferocity and the terrible ways in which they killed people has fascinated people throughout the ages, no more so than the so-called  ‘blood eagle’ or carving of an eagle on a victim’s back. If some writers are to be believed carving a blood eagle was the primary way of Viking execution. Some say that it had to do with a ritual associated with Odin where the back is cut open, the rib cage spread apart and the lungs pulled out all while the victim remains alive. It is supposed to be the  classic example of Viking and therefore pagan barbarity. There is just one problem — other than in the fertile imagination of 12^th century and beyond writers, there is actually very little concrete evidence that it happened.

Scene supposidly showing a Viking execution of a defeated enemy

Carving a blood eagle is now considered to be a 12^th century misinterpretation of skaldic verse. In short a 12 century Christian invention to show how dreadful and  terrible the pagan Vikings were.

The verse in question dealt with the murder of the Christian Northumbrian king Aella by the pagan Ivar during the capture of York.  It basically says that Aella was killed by Ivar the Boneless. To be fair, Aella had killed Ivar’s father, Ragnar the Hairy Breeches (Ragnar Lodbrok -- the subject of the Historiy channel Viking series)  by putting him in a snake pit without his famous trousers.  Aella had also usurped the throne and Northumbria was engaged in a civil war. Ragnar’s three sons vowed revenge and took it.  Getting rid of Aella provided the pretext for the invasion of Britain and the conquering of Northumbria.  

Some excitable scribe decided that he was killed by carving an eagle in Aella’s back. Aella looks a bit like the Latin word for eagle. The story grew and grew until it became very complicated. It fit the image that Christian scribes wanted for the Vikings. Basically even though many Christian warriors behaved with great ferocity during that time, it made for better reading if the Vikings were worse.

So did the Vikings ever do this sort thing? Who knows. It may be that they simply never thought about it. They certainly did not hesitate to kill their enemies and their respect for the law was more in how much they could manipulate it to their advantage.  Some scholars point to the word blothorn (blood eagle) as evidence for the pratice. It could be that the Vikings turned the defeated on thier stomachs, exposing thier backs which allowed eagles (or more likely vultures and other carrion birds) to attack their backs.

Michelle Styles writes warm, witty and intimate historical romance from a wide variety of time periods including Viking. Her next novel Hattie Wilkinson Meets Her Match is set in the relatively more civilised ear of the Regency England but she is currently working on a Viking novel . To leanr more about Michelle and her books visit www.michellestyles.co.uk

Executed: Diogo, Duke of Viseu—Portugal 1484

By Ginger Myrick

It is a commonly held belief that the court of England has a monopoly on ruthlessness and treachery when it comes to dirty deeds done in the name of the king. There was the assassination of Thomas à Becket caused by an ‘inadvertent’ suggestion during a rant by Henry II, who was later turned upon by his own wife and sons. Edward II and Richard II were forced to abdicate and then imprisoned, both eventually succumbing under mysterious circumstances while in custody of their keepers. Add to that the still unsolved disappearance of the Princes in the Tower, the atrocities committed by Henry VIII, the infamous reign of Bloody Mary, and the list goes on. But just because well-read Anglophiles have found more information available about their monarchs, does not mean it didn't happen elsewhere. There have been similar acts carried out in the name of securing the succession throughout time immemorial.

The urge to eliminate the competition runs strong in every culture. All of the aforementioned acts are very shocking, indeed, but none more so than the brutal stabbing of Diogo, Duke of Viseu by his cousin, King João II of Portugal. Anyone who has read even a bit of European history knows that the thrones of several major countries were constantly intermarrying with each other and are all related by blood in one way or another. This is also true for the ruling house of Portugal. In 1387, John of Gaunt, third son of King Edward III of England, married two of his daughters to the future kings of Portugal and Castile. On the Portuguese side, his daughter, Philippa of Lancaster, wed João I, and along with the direct line of succession to the throne, they also begat the seeds of the dukedoms of Braganza and Viseu. Three generations later, João II, who had earned the moniker ‘the Perfect Prince’—because he was incorruptible and impervious to external influence—sat on the throne and his cousins, Fernando and Diogo, managed their respective territories.

During the reign of King João’s father, Afonso V, Fernando had supported and accompanied the king on his expeditions and had been rewarded with many favors. He had amassed honors and riches, and had fostered a friendly relationship with rulers of the neighboring country of Castile. In 1478 he inherited the Dukedom of Braganza and soon became the richest and most powerful aristocrat in all of Portugal. He believed that he had as much right to the Portuguese crown as his cousin and had let his opinion be publicly known.

The nobles who had increased their riches under King Afonso were now in danger of losing their wealth under João. They formed a conspiracy to back the strong and valid claim of the Duke of Braganza, going so far as to even seek support from Isabella and Ferdinand of Castile. They were so confident in their cause that they became lax about security, and their illicit correspondence was intercepted by royal spies. Braganza was arrested, charged with treason, convicted, and beheaded at Évora on June 20,1483. His supporters fled to Castile, and his estates were confiscated by the Portuguese crown.

After the execution, João suffered recriminations from other members of the aristocracy who claimed that what he had done was reprehensible and perhaps even illegal. How dare he try a man of royal blood in the courts designed for the common man? Even if Braganza had been a traitor, shouldn't exile have been enough? João, being a very shrewd man and a quick study, took it all in and decided to learn from his mistake. He would not have his spotless reputation and his reign tainted by a second such scandal, so the following year when he sought to reprimand his other cousin, Diogo, Duke of Viseu, he went about it in a very different manner.

João invited Diogo to his royal apartments under the guise of a personal meeting and stabbed him to death with his own hands. He then summoned Diogo’s younger brother, Manuel, and after commanding him to give homage, João showed him his brother’s murdered corpse. The duke had been stabbed several times in the abdomen, and João defended his actions by accusing Diogo of treason and the heading of a conspiracy to do away with the king and place himself on the throne. He terminated the audience by granting Manuel the ducal titles and estates, insisting that he should now consider the king as his own father.

Manuel went on to become the most revered ruler in Portuguese history. During his reign the beloved king accomplished much for his country. He was a staunch supporter of the exploration and foreign trade that had expanded the Portuguese Empire and made it a world power. He established trade treaties and diplomatic relations in the Orient. He was a religious man and had sought to enlighten the people of the new Portuguese colonies through the work of missionaries. He reformed the courts and modernized taxes. He used the country’s wealth to attract the attention of illustrious scholars and artists to his court, even inspiring the Manueline style of architecture. The second half of his reign was considered the most prosperous period in Portuguese history.

But to this day, very little is known about Diogo. Information about him is so scarce, in fact, that I could not even find a picture of him for this article. He would seem a minor personality, and yet João found him important and charismatic enough to construe him as a threat. It is true that mystery breeds romance, and it was this intriguing paradox that influenced my decision more than 500 years later to dramatize these scandalous events in the novelette Maria’s Story: A Tale from Renaissance Iberia and use Diogo as the basis for the father of the title character in the full-length book, El Rey: A Novel of Renaissance Iberia.

Ginger Myrick was born and raised in Southern California. She is a Christian who writes historical fiction with a 'clean' love story at the core. Although having researched, written, and self-published her first novel, El Rey: A Novel of Renaissance Iberia, in just under two years, she still does not consider herself a writer. She took first prize in the Rosetta Literary Contest 2012 with The Converso, a novelette chosen from a field of worldwide submissions. She is currently in the finishing stages of her second novel, The Welsh Healer: A Novel of 15th Century England, which takes place during the reign of King Henry V and will be available later this month at Amazon.

Executed: The Day the River Ran Red

By Kim Rendfeld

Photos of where the Wesser and Aller Rivers meet in today’s Germany reveal a pastoral area, a far cry from the beheading of 4,500 men in 782. In one day. On the orders of King Charles, whom we now call Charlemagne.

Why would Charles do such a brutal act? Retribution.

The Franks and Continental Saxon peoples had been fighting for 10 years, off and on. Frankish sources say they would win the battles and the Saxons would give hostages and swear oaths of loyalty, only to make war again, destroying churches and killing indiscriminately.

“The Franks have never been involved in any struggle more prolonged, more bitter, or more laborious,” wrote Einhard, Charlemagne’s biographer. “For the Saxons—like almost all of the nations inhabiting Germania—are savage by nature, given to the cult of demons, and hostile to our religion. They do not find it dishonorable to violate or break divine or human laws.”

Unfortunately, we don’t have the Saxon side. At the time, they did not have a written language as we know it. What they might say, though, is an oath at knifepoint isn’t valid.

Not the First Fight

Widukind memorial in Herford, Germany,
rebuilt from an 1899 sculpture by
Heinrich Wefing, via Wikimedia Commons,
used under the terms of the GNU
Free Documentation License

The Franks blamed much of the trouble on Widukind. The Westphalian Saxon overlord had led the rebellion in 778, while Charles was busy in Spain (see my prior post on Unusual Historicals about the massacre atRoncevaux for more). The Royal Frankish Annals say the Saxons “committed many atrocities, such as burning the churches of God in the monasteries and other acts too loathsome to enumerate.”

Soldiers sent by Charles conquered the Saxons and another war followed in 779. A Frankish army advanced into Saxony in 780, but matters were settled.

So the spring of 782 held some promise for Charles. The Frankish king crossed the Rhine and held an assembly in Saxony at the source of the River Lippe. He received Norse and Avar dignitaries. All the Saxons were there, except Widukind.

Charles returned to Francia and sent an army to fight the Sorbs, a people between the Elbe and Salle, who were pillaging Saxon and Thuringian lands. But Widukind incited rebellion in Saxony. Instead of fighting the Sorbs, the Franks pursued Widukind and were joined by East Franks and a force led by Count Theodoric, Charles’s kinsman.

This combined force tracked the Saxon rebels to the Suntel Mountains, with plans to attack later. Had the Franks followed this original plan, the execution at Verden might not have taken place at all. But some East Franks were worried that Theodoric would get all the glory and decided not to wait.

“They took up their arms,” says the Revised Royal Frankish Annals, “and as if he were chasing runaways and going after booty instead of facing an enemy lined up for battle, everybody dashed as fast as his horse would carry him for the place outside the Saxon camp, where the Saxons were standing in battle array.

“The battle was as bad as the approach. As soon as the fighting began, they were surrounded by the Saxons and slain almost to a man.”

A Political Vengeance

Verden, from the Aller River, via Wikimedia Commons,
used under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License

The casualties included two of Charles’s envoys, four counts, and up to 20 other noblemen. When he learned of this disaster, Charles himself led a charge into Saxony. He caught up with the enemy to where the Aller and Wesser Rivers meet. “All denounced Widukind as the instigator of this wicked rebellion,” says the Revised RFA. But the Westphalian warrior was not among them, having escaped to Nordmannia (Denmark).

Charlemagne, around 812,
via Wikimedia Commons,
used under the terms of the
GNU Free Documentation License

Instead, the Saxons submitted to Charles and surrendered 4,500 leaders. Four years earlier, Charles had suffered a loss in the Pyrenees, one that could not be avenged because the perpetrators had scattered. And the Basques who had caused the massacre at Roncevaux were not about to burn churches or kill civilians.

The Saxons were different and had a history to prove it. Charles’s own counts likely would have demanded that the enemy who destroyed holy places and slaughtered young and old, men and women, pay a price.

“He never allowed any of them who perpetrated such perfidy to go unpunished,” Einhard wrote.

If Charles hoped to beat the Saxon peoples into submission with the execution of 4,500 men, he was mistaken. They attacked the very next year and would keep on fighting for years to come. He did make peace with Widukind in 785 with the Saxon leader’s baptism, where Charles served as godfather and by implication offered his protection. But even that peace came with a political price, a subject for another post.

Kim Rendfeld is the author of The Cross and the Dragon, which takes place in King Charles’s Francia 773-779, when the wars with the Saxons have already started. Her novel has been published by Fireship Press. For more about Kim and her fiction, visit www.kimrendfeld.com, read her blog at www.kimrendfeld.wordpress.com, like her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/authorkimrendfeld, connect with her on Goodreads at www.goodreads.com/Kim_Rendfeld, check out her Amazon page at www.amazon.com/author/kimrendfeld, or follow her on Twitter at @kimrendfeld.

Executed: Torture under Vlad the Impaler

By Lisa J. Yarde

In 1499, a German pamphlet circulated through Nuremberg. It depicts a horrific scene that supposedly took place outside the Romanian city of Brasov. Hacked limbs and heads littered the ground while men and women are impaled through the stomach or torso. While the man to the bottom right carves up fallen bodies with a short ax, the solitary bearded figure to the left sits at a banquet table in clear enjoyment of the grim vista. Text accompanies the image. "Here begins a very cruel frightening story about a wild bloodthirsty man Prince Dracula. How he impaled people and roasted them and boiled their heads in a kettle and skinned people and hacked them to pieces like cabbage. He also roasted the children of mothers and they had to eat the children themselves...."

Nuremberg pamphlet; Source - Wiki Commons

Vlad Dracula III, the 15th century Romanian prince of Wallachia gained such a reputation for cruel executions, he inspired Bram Stoker's famous novel and centuries of the vampire myths that still mire his past. The legends about Vlad that do not involve supernatural elements are just as terrifying as anything Stoker could imagine. Vlad's vicious enemies the Ottoman Turks thought he deserved the title Kaziglu Bey or the Impaler Prince. He earned his fearsome reputation among the Turks, his other enemies and even his own people with his favorite method of execution.

The Turks may bear some responsibility for Vlad's vices. In 1442, when Vlad was barely a teenager, his father had to surrender him and his younger brother Radu to the Turks in exchange for their military support. Initiated into painful torments with the whip by his tutors and unable to protect his brother Radu from the sexual advances of the future Sultan Mehmed II, young Vlad developed a brutal outlook on life. For six years, he survived as a hostage and must have nurtured a seething hatred against the Turks. They had forced their terms on his father, captured him and Radu, and turned his younger brother into a sycophant who forgot his Christian upbringing, embraced Islam and abandoned himself to a relationship with an Ottoman prince. Vlad might have also witnessed the execution of prisoners, a subtle demonstration from his captors of the fate awaiting him if his father rebelled. Turkish prisoners were shot with arrows, beheaded, crushed, hung, mauled by wild animals or impaled. In the latter instance, they endured the piercing stab of a sharpened pole through their rectums and were left in excruciating agony to die atop the raised pole. 

After Vlad's release from captivity in 1448, he had three terms as prince of Wallachia. During that time, the Turks had captured Constantinople, the bastion of Eastern Orthodoxy and impaled many of its Christian inhabitants. They prepared to conquer the whole of Europe.  The new Ottoman ruler Mehmed II had declared himself young, rich and favored, determined to surpass the combined ambitions of Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great and Hannibal of Carthage.

Vlad the Impaler, prince of Wallachia
Source - Wiki Commons

Vlad's revenge began with slow, deliberate purpose. During his second reign, Pope Pius II called for a crusade against the Turks who now threatened Hungary. In 1459, Vlad paid the last tribute of 10,000 ducats he would ever send the Turks.  A year later, Mehmed directed his envoys to Wallachia. Vlad detained the men and nailed their hats to their heads for failure to remove them as a show of deference. Mehmed sent a follow-up request for 500 boys for the Janissary corps. When Vlad refused, the Turks made incursions into Wallachia and stole the children. Vlad bided his time and pretended to negotiate with Mehmed, who sent the governor of Nicopolis, Hamza Bey under an escort of 1,000 cavalry to a meeting with Vlad. Vlad attacked the Turks and executed the survivors by impalement. He had the ends of the stakes oiled and required that they should not be too sharp, lest his victims die quickly. For Hamza Bey, he reserved the longest stake so the dying man could still rank highest above his fellow Turks. Over the years of successive warfare, a new type of forest rose above Wallachia - the impaled corpses of Vlad's prisoners. Mehmed's army once fled the countryside along the Danube River after encountering the gruesome display.

Vlad settled other scores by methods of impalement, with particular barbarity reserved for the nobles whom he had suspected of disloyalty and betrayal of his murdered father. At his capital in Tirgoviste, he impaled members of the nobility and on St. Bartholomew's Day, he allegedly had 20,000 men, women and children executed at the Romanian city of Sibiu while he enjoyed his lunch. When one of his soldiers covered his nose against the stench of death, Vlad had him impaled alongside the other victims with the words: "Let him join these others, but because he had been loyal until today, hoist him higher than the rest that he does not have to smell his company!"

Sources: Florescu, Radu R. & McNally, Raymond T. Dracula — Prince of Many Faces. 

Lisa J. Yarde writes fiction inspired by real-life events. She is the author of historical novels set in medieval England and Normandy, The Burning Candle, based on the life of Isabel de Vermandois, and On Falcon's Wings, chronicling the star-crossed romance between Norman and Saxon lovers. Lisa has also written Sultana and Sultana’s Legacy, novels set during a turbulent period of thirteenth century Spain,where rivalries and ambitions threaten the fragile bonds between members of a powerful family. 

Executed: James Scott Duke of Monmouth 1685

By Anita Davison

James, Duke of Monmouth was born in Rotterdam on April 9, 1649 as the child of the exiled King Charles II and his mistress Lucy Walter (aka Mrs. Barlow).  What is known about Lucy tends to be muddied by figures of the time who wanted to refute her claim that she was married to her royal lover.

James Duke of Monmouth 1649-1685

James, or ‘Jemmy’ inherited Lucy’s good looks, but when Charles grew tired of her, she looked for the protection of other men to help keep her, the young James and a daughter, Mary, fathered by another lover, thus Jemmy was  given a casual upbringing in his early, and ‘mean’ years. Bryan Bevan relays in James Duke of Monmouth that “[h]e was often so poor that his shoes needed repairing.” 

At one stage, knowing Charles wanted to take her son from her, Lucy ran to England, but as she was being watched by Cromwell’s spies, was promptly taken to the Tower of London and questioned.  Although Cromwell was very aware of her relationship with Charles II and the parentage of James, Lucy, and presumably her son, were released and given the unusual courtesy of being set on the shore of Flanders. Charles and his advisors continued to plot to remove James from her care, and finally Edward Progers, Charles’confidential page of the back stairs, succeeded. The child was placed in the care of Lord Crofts, and became James Croft.

'Jemmy' Crofts

James went to live with the dowager Queen Henrietta Maria at her court near Paris, where he began to see what life as a royal could mean. He also grew close to his aunt, the last child of Charles I, Henrietta Anne, known as ‘Minette’.

Queen Henrietta, being a devout Catholic put James under the instruction of Father Geoffe of the Oratorian College of Notre Dame des Verlus, but later a Thomas Ross, a protestant, became his tutor. Ross was a Scotsman, who, according to James II, flattered the boy ‘and put the thoughts of legitimacy into his head; and would have Bishop Cousin to certify that he had married the King and Lucy Walter,’ Thus James was removed  from Ross' care and sent to Petit Ecoles, in Le Chesney near Paris. James' education was patchy and he often regretted his poor education and spent many years trying to make up for it.

When Charles II landed in Dover on May 26th to take up the throne again, James remained in Paris, but was now treated with the deference due a natural king’s son. Entranced by the court of Louis XIV, he attended the wedding of his aunt Henrietta when she married Louis’ brother,  Philippe d’Orleans.

In July 1662, James at fourteen was sent for, and arrived in England with his grandmother, and in August, and with the king and his new queen, Catherine of Braganza, made their entry into London. Samuel Pepys described James as, “Mr. Crofts, the King’s bastard, a most pretty spark of about fifteen years old, who I perceive, do hang about my Lady Castlemaine, and is always with her, and I do hear, the Queens are both mighty kind to him.  They staid till it was dark, and then went away; the King and his Queen and my Lady Castlemaine and the young Crofts in one coach, and the rest in the other coaches.”  And  “These were days of enchantment.  [James] played cards with the Queen and her maids of hounour in her presence chambers, ‘all dressed in velvet gowns.’” 

Charles doted on the boy in public and heaped honours on him, despite criticism, especially when he arranged a marriage between the boy and Anna Scott, Countess of Buccleugh to establish him as a legitimate member of society.  Anna was the wealthiest heiress in Scotland and only ten when the King wrote to her mother on June 14th 1661:

Anna Scott, Duchess of Buccleigh

 “Madame, I have received your letter of the 28 of May by Will Fleming, and am very sensible of the affection which you shew to me in the offer you make concerning the Countesses of Buccleugh, which I do accepte most willingly, and the rather for the relation she hathe to you...
Madame, your very affectionate Friende, Charles R.

About 6 weeks later Lady Wemyss wrote the King back excited about the agreement:

 “Most Sacrad Soveraing, I reserved your Maiesties’s most grasious letir, and by the expressions thereof accounts myself more hapie then any thing els in the world could have maid me. I sell wait for your Maiestie’s further commands conserning that particular, as becometh, Dried Soveran,
 Your Majestie’s most devoted and humble servant Margarit Wemyss.” 

The Countess of Wemyss brought Anna to London, ‘a proper handsome and a lively tall young lady of her age’ [she was only eleven at the time] and James Croft married Anna Scott on Tuesday April 20, 1663; he was fourteen and she was twelve.

In a letter to the Duchess of Orleans, Charles refers to his young son’s marriage, “You must not by this post expect a long letter from me, this being James’s marriage day and I am going to sup with them, where we intend to dance and see them a bed together, the ceremony shall stop there, for they are both too young to lye all night together.” 

On his marriage, James took the name Scott, to become James Scott Duke of Buccleuch, as well as Duke of Monmouth, Earl of Doncaster, and Baron Scott of Tynedale. In later years he also received honorary degrees from Oxford and Cambridge, and Knight of the Garter.

Samuel Pepys once described Monmouth when aged sixteen as “the most skittish leaping gallant, that ever I saw...always in action, vaulting, leaping, ever clambering.”  And that he “spends his time the most viciously and idly of any man, nor will he be fit for anything.” 

However Monmouth had a serious side and his first military action was in the navy, during the Second Dutch War of 1665; James, Duke of York commanded the Royal Squadron, and sailed with Monmouth on the Royal Charles. The sixteen-year-old won effusive praise for his courage during the fighting and even his uncle commended him. This was particularly remarkable due to the rivalry already surfacing between these two.

Monmouth continued to be treated as if of royal blood and moved into lodgings built for him in the ‘Old Tennis Court,’ to the south of the cockpit and facing King Street.  In July 1665, he accompanied his father and uncle Duke of York on the King’s barge from Hampton Court to Greenwich to inspect the new buildings the king was adding to the Palace.

In September, the Duke and Duchess of Monmouth accompanied the king and the rest of the Royal Court to Salisbury and then on to Oxford to escape the plague.  During this time, Monmouth stayed with Lord Ashley, later the Earl of Shaftesbury, at his country home in Wimbone St. Giles.  It is possible that Shaftesbury took advantage of this meeting to “size Monmouth up as a possible Protestant alternative to the Duke of York, but apparently Shaftesbury reported he *‘was not impressed by any qualities of mind or character that he could detect.”

Lady Henrietta Wentworth

In 1669, Monmouth commanded of a troop of cavalry against the Dutch, and was made colonel of the King's Life Guards, one of the most senior appointments in the army.  In 1670, at the age of 21, he became the senior officer in the army when the Captain General of the army, George Monck, 1st Duke of Albemarle died.  During the Third Anglo-Dutch War in 1672, Monmouth commanded a brigade of 6,000 British troops sent to serve as part of the French army.  In the campaign of 1673 and in particular at the Siege of Maastricht, Monmouth gained a considerable reputation as one of Britain's finest soldiers.

In 1678, Monmouth was commander of the Anglo-Dutch brigade fighting for the United provinces against the French.  He distinguished himself yet again at the battle of St Denis, adding to his already bourgeoning reputation.  The following year, after his return to Britain, he commanded the small army raised to put down the rebellion of the Scottish Despite being heavily outnumbered, he gallantly defeated the poorly equipped Covenanter rebels at the Battle of Bothwell Bridge on June 22, 1679.

The early relationship between the tow James', uncle and nephew was forged on the hunting field, however the cracks appeared and grew wider when Monmouth was championed against York and his Roman Catholic bride, Mary of Modena. The Duke of York also constantly questioned whether or not Monmouth was actually Charles' son and vehemently denied any possible marriage to Lucy Walter (Mrs. Barlow).   

Further rivalry arose between uncle and nephew over Moll (or Mary) Kirke, who was a maid of honour to Mary of Modena. The lady would entertain both York and Monmouth, which went undetected until she took a third lover, John Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave.  One night, after Monmouth discovered Mulgrave’s visit to Moll, he had him arrested and kept in jail overnight, and the command of his regiments taken away. In retaliation, Mulgrave relayed Monmouth’s relations with Moll to the Duke of York, which further deteriorated the relationship between uncle and nephew. 

In 1678, Monmouth was promoted to Captain-General of the king’s forces.  According to Bevan in James Duke of Monmouth, the Duke of York warned his nephew that if he was appointed General that he could “no longer expect his friendship.” but Charles II would not be swayed.

York was so concerned as to what this appointment would mean to his ascendancy that he [allegedly] instructed the Attorney General to insert the word “natural” into the document after the word ‘son’ that had already been signed by the king. Although angry, Charles destroyed the copy and had a new one drawn up with the word ‘natural’ included.

Shaftesbury’s impression that Monmouth was weak-minded was one shared by many, tribute was also paid to Monmouth’s courage, his generosity and his ability to inspire followers with esteem, enthusiasm, and devotion. John Evelyn in his diaries tells of Monmouth’s behavour in the fire of September 2nd 1666:

 “I saw ye whole south part of ye city burning from Cheapside to ye Thames, and all along Cornehill (for it like-wise kindl’d back against ye wind as well as forward), Tower Streete, Fen-Church Streete, Gracios Streete and so along to Bernards Castle, and was now aking hold of St. Pauls’s Church to which the scaffolds contributed exceedingly.” However, through the burning heat, together with the King and the Duke of York, the Duke of Monmouth “stood for hours ankle deep in water, handing buckets and playing the fire engines.”

Monmouth was also unstable and easily influenced by ambitious intriguers for their own ends, Shaftesbury being the worst.  He was leader of  the Country party, [later the Whigs] the violent opposition of the Court party, and who suggested to the King that he declare Monmouth his heir, and that they would prove his marriage to his mother.  The king completely rejected this idea and Shaftesbury was forced to come up with another scheme to rid the Court of what he and his contemporaries considered the Papist threat of James Duke of York inheriting the kingdom. 

Charles Scott, Earl of Doncaster

The Popish Plots added to a culture of anti-Catholic sentiment where  Monmouth’s popularity was enhanced, while James, Duke of York became reviled. Shaftesbury introduced a bill to have York excluded from the succession due to his  Catholic religion, holding up Monmouth as the hope of the Anglican religon – their “Protestant Duke.”

In 1676, Monouth’s adherents formed ‘The Green Ribbon Club’, whose members coined a style of hat wearing called the “Monmouth cock.”  His popularity with the Court and the love of his father outweighed his vices, especially in the case of the disfiguring of Sir John Coventry’s nose over an argument that occurred in the House of Commons; and the part he played in the murdering of the “beadle.

In the mid 1670’s, the theory of the “black box” containing the certificate of marriage between the king and Lucy Walter was at its height, where anti catholic conspiracies resulted in James Duke of York sent to Brussels for his own safety and to keep things fair, Monmouth was banished to Holland and stripped of his military titles.

In November 1680, Monmouth, returned to England without permission, and within an hour two, the church bells were rung to announce the arrival of the people’s idol, and bonfires blazed in the streets. However the king was not so delighted and had his errant son arrested, refusing to receive him at court.

Instead of keeping his head down, Monmouth toured the West Country, raising support for the Whig party while continually trying to win back the favour of his father. The Whigs lost the Exclusion Bill and the Duke of York successfully petitioned his return to England in 1682. Monmouth was in disfavor of his father and his best friends, Thomas Thynne was murdered in a brutal shooting. The Court pardoned the murderer, which infuriated Monmouth, whose resentment increased.

More a heated conspiracy than an actual plan, the Rye House Plot was an intention to murder the king and York while on their way back from racing at Newmarket.  Monmouth denied ever plotting to kill his father and uncle, and while arrest were being made and accusations flying about, Shaftesbury, the most likely instigator, fled to Holland – never to return.

Monmouth and Anna had six children, four of whom survived infancy, but the couple were estranged. Monmouth declred the “only woman to ever hold his heart,” was Lady Henrietta Wentworth. It was to her house in Toddington, in Hertfordshire that Monmouth went into hiding after the discovery of the plot before he set sail for Holland.

Lady Charlotte Scott

He wrote an affectionate letter to his father begging for a reconciliation, which was granted but lasted  twelve days. Banished again, Monmouth left for Brussels in April 1684. Moving onto Holland, he stayed with the Prince and Princess of Orange in the Hague for the next two years. Monmouth and King Charles began communications Halifax about reconciliation, but the king died before any of those plans came into fruition.
James II ascended the throne and ordered his son in law, Prince of Orange to throw Monmouth out of Holland, but William refused.  Monmouth went straight to Lady Henrietta Wentworth in Brussels, and kept in contact with other Whigs such as Sir Patrick Hume and Archibald Campbell, Earl of Argyle who tried to convince him to assert his claim as rightful heir to the throne.

In June 1685, Monmouth landed at Lyme, with under a hundred followers; and although their numbers soon increased to 6,000, it was not enough to overcome the royal army.  An Act of Attainder was passed convicting Monmouth of high treason and a reward of £5000 was offered for his capture, dead or alive.  James declared himself King on June 20, 1685 at Taunton, and on July 6, 1685, the rebels were defeated at the Battle of Sedgemoor. Monmouth was captured days later lying in a ditch asleep.  Despite his attempts to plead his uncle for his life, Monmouth was executed by the ax of Jack Ketch on July 15, 1685 on Tower Hill, but botched the job and took three blows to end Monmouth’s life. Monmouth is buried in St Peter ad Vincula Church in the Tower of London.

John Evelyn 17th Century Diarist on the Execution of the Duke of Monmouth

'Thus ended this quondam Duke, darling of his Father, and the Ladys, being extraordirily handsome, and adroit: an excellent souldier, & dauncer, a favorite of the people, of an Easy nature, debauched by lust, seduc’d by crafty knaves who would have set him up onely to make a property; tooke this opportunity of his Majestie being of another Religion, to gather a party of discontented; failed of it, and perished:
He was a lovely person, had a vertuous & excellent Lady that brought him greate riches & a second Dukedome in Scotland; Was Master of the Horse, Gen. of the K. his fathers Army, Gent: of the Bed chamber: Knight of the Garter, Chancellor of Camb: in a Word had accumulations without end: See what Ambition and want of principles brought him to. He was beheaded on Tuesday the 14th July: His mother (whose name was Barlow, daughter of some very meane Creatures) was a beautifull strumpet, whom I had often seene at Paris, & died miserably, without anything to bury her: Yet had this Perkin ben made believe, the King had married her: which was a monstrous forgerie, & ridiculous: & to satisfie the world the iniquitie of the report, the King his father (if his Father he realy were, for he most resembled one Sidny familiar with his mother) publiquely & most solemnly renounced it, and caused it to be so entred in the Council booke some yeares since, with all the Privy Counselrs attestation’

Monmouth Painted After Death [Attributed]

[*Haley in Anthony Earl of Shaftesbury]