Haughmond Abbey

Haughmond Abbey is a few miles to the east of Shrewsbury. There seems to have been a small religious community from the late 11th century, though the formal foundation dates from 1135. It grew to a very large complex of buildings, deriving its considerable wealth from rents of farms over a wide area of local villages, as well as from the opeartion of fulling mills in the burgeoning Shropshire wool industry. The powerful local Fitzalan and Mortimer families patronised the Abbey.
    When you enter the abbey complex today, which is from the south, the first thing you notice is the unusual windows of the abbot's private rooms.

These must have been inserted long after the rest of the building had bee completed, probably in the 15th century. To the left of this is the abbot's hall, at the western end of which is an enormous window in the Decorated style.

These features suggest that the abbots of Haughmond enjoyed a very lavish lifestyle. Not all of them were personally admirable, however; and one of the last of them, Christopher Hunt, was disciplined in 1522 for administrative slackness and fornication!
   Very little remains of the great abbey church apart from the foundations, but there is a fine processional doorway leading from the cloister to the church. The arch is Romanesque, but with tall, slender stautes of saints carved on the shafts in the 14th century.

The best-preserved part of the abbey is the chapter house, where the monks would assemble every day to be addressed by the abbot. It is strange to find it has massive rectangular windows, which must have been inserted in the Tudor period.

The entrance to the chapter house has three magnificent Romanesque arches, again featuring statues of saints, including Thomas a'Becket and the locally-venerated Saint Winifred.

  All the English abbeys were closed by Henry VIII and Thomas Cromwell in the 1530s. The last abbot of Haughmond surrendered his abbey to the crown in 1539, and he and his ten canons were pensioned off. This was a wise decision, since some abbots who reisted the dissolution were hanged, drawn and quartered for high treason!
   The wealth of the abbey, with an income estimated at almost £250 a year, was seized by the crown. The spoilation of the site probably began soon after; stripping lead from the roof and demolishing the buildings to reuse the stone. The dissolution of the monasteries brought Henry VIII such riches that he and his successors could have ruled despotically, without recourse to Parliament; but fortunately for the constitutional future of England Henry needed immediate cash to fight his wars, and most of the monasteries were sold off to his supporters. Haughmond was sold to Sir Edward Littleton, who rebuilt the abbot's lodgings as a residence. A whole new class of landowners was being created, grown rich on the plunder of the monasteries.

Caernarfon Castle

Caernarfon, with its strategic position guarding the south-western entry to the Menai Strait separating Anlesey from the mainland, had been an important base even in Roman times, and later was the centre of the Welsh kingdom of Gwynedd. Its capture by King Edward I in 1283 was the culminating point of his campaign to subdue north Wales, and he paid his viceroy, Otto de Grandson, over £1,000 a year for holding the town and "keeping the land of Wales".
   Edward's master castle architect, James of St. George, was summoned to build a suitably splendid and powerful castle in Caernarfon. It provides an immediately unusual appearance to the visitor, in that the towers are polygonal rather than round, and there are bands of pale limestone in the walls.

The castle thus resembles the famous land walls defending Constantinople. King Edward had been on crusade as a prince, and although he never visited Constantinople, it is likely that some of his entourage did, and reported on what they saw. 
     In its plan, the castle is shaped like an hourglass, with a narrow waist. There is a very elaborate gatehouse, which, however, was built in the early 14th century, after James's death.

   
The most spectacular part of the castle is the massive south-western Eagle Tower, which has its own watergate.

The three small towers upon it are said to be a reference to the coat of arms of Edward's beloved wife Eleanor of Castile.
   On the northern side of the castle, outside the main gate, Edward built a walled town for English settlers,

 the Welsh only being permitted to enter on market days; though this did not save the incomplete castle from being stormed by the Welsh in 1294.
   The completed castle was so strong that it defied Owain Glyndwr's attempts to capture it at the start of the 15th century. In 1403 it was successfully defended by a garrison of just 28 men!

Everyone knows the story of how in 1284 Edward caused his son, later King Edward II, to be born in Caernarfon, in order that he should keep his promise to the Welsh chieftains to give them "A prince who was born in Wales and does not speak a word of English". In fact, the castle was far from complete at the time, and Queen Eleanor probably had to endure an uncomfortable delivery in a local wooden house. She was 42 at the time, and can hardly have enjoyed the experience very much. It is worth pointing out that the King himself could speak little or no English, the language of the court still being Norman French. The other interesting fact about this episode is that baby Edward was not at this stage the heir to the throne. The King had an older son, called Alfonso, who, however, died four months later in circumstances which remain unknown. Very few people realise that England could have had a King Alfonso!
   Many strange tales became attached to the castle. One was that Edward had found a legionary Eagle from the nearby Roman base of Segontium and placed it atop the Eagle Tower. Another said that the builders had uncovered the body of Magnus Maximus, a late-Roman commander in Britain who had tried and failed to make himself Emperor in the 380s, and who figured in Welsh legends. Owain Glyndwr boosted the chances of his rebellion by invoking prophesies of Merlin.

   In 1911 the future King Edward VIII was formally invested as Prince of Wales in the castle, and in 1969 the ceremony was repeated for Prince Charles. Charles made a speech in Welsh for the occasion, which would undoubtedly have surprised King Edward I! 

Paedophilia: Several details you probably didn't know

In the ancient world and the middle ages, it was common amongst the nobility for very young boys and girls to be formally betrothed, and even married.
    The man who was to become King Henry VII of England was born when his mother (Margaret Beaufort, the daughter of the Duke of Somerset, through whom Henry derived his very sketchy claim to the throne) was certainly no older than 14. There is a famous scene in Shakespeare's "Richard III", where Richard successfully woos Anne Neville, having killed her husband, Edward, Prince of Wales. In fact, Anne would have been about 16 when she met Richard: she had married Edward when she was 14 and he was 17. (He was almost certainly killed in the battle of Tewkesbury, aged 18; not murdered by Richard). Although very little is known about Anne personally, there is no reason to believe that she resented being passed like a trophy between the houses of Lancaster and York. As a daughter of the mighty Earl of Warwick, "Warwick the Kingmaker", she would have known what was expected of girls of her class.
   When Henry VIII married his fifth wife, Katharine Howard, in 1540, he was 49 and in poor health, and she was probably no older than 16 (her exact age is not known). She had previously been betrothed to Francis Dereham, and, it transpired, was not a virgin. She had even experienced sexual games with her music teacher when she was only 13. Her later flirtations with Dereham and with Thomas Culpepper led to all three being executed for treason in early 1542. She seems to have been a rather stupid girl, behaving so recklessly, but nowadays we would regard it as intolerable that someone so young should be placed under such pressure.

Before the Victorian period, there was no legal definition of the age of consent. It was generally assumed to be about 10 or 12, and Victorian London was reported as crawling with child prostitutes of both sexes. The campaigning journalist W. T. Stead drew the public's attention to the situation by a stunt in which he purchased a young girl from her mother and took the child with him to Paris; subsequently publicizing it in a series of sensational articles entitled "The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon". It seems that there was some knowing collusion from the girl's mother in the stunt, but it succeeded in attracting great attention. Shortly afterwards, the 1885 Criminal Law Amendment Act raised the age of consent to 16; and the radical M.P. Henry Labouchere inserted an amendment to make "gross indecency" between men a criminal offence. Up to this point, it was unclear whether such behaviour was illegal.

   In the USA the age of consent varied considerably between different states. When Jerry Lee Lewis, one of the great original rock-n-rollers, came to tour Britain in 1958,he brought with him his wife, who was said to be 15, but, it transpired, was really only 13. There was an outcry in the press and the tour was called off after a couple of concerts. 

   It was under the 1885 Act that Oscar Wilde was convicted, though since he was accused of indecency with teenage youths he would nowadays be branded a paedophile and would receive a much longer sentence and no sympathy from anyone. The same would apply to Sir Roger Casement; hanged as a traitor after the Easter Rising in Dublin, and now regarded as a patriotic hero and martyr in Ireland; but whose sexual proclivities were revealed in his diaries, which were deliberately leaked to the press before his trial.
   In any case, the word "paedophile" is misused by the media. It only means someone who likes, or is attracted to children; analogies being a bibliophile, who loves books, a philosopher, who loves knowledge, and a philatelist, who loves postage stamps. There is a different word, "pederast", for someone who has sex with children. As far as I know it was first used by the 17th century writer John Aubrey, where he applied it to Francis Bacon, the Lord Chancellor and philosopher (and according to some, the true author of Shakespeare's plays). Aubrey wrote the word in the original Greek, and called Bacon's harem of boys his "Ganymedes", after the beautiful boy beloved by the god Zeus - which, of course, is why one of the satellites of Jupiter bears this name.

   Is it too much to hope that a clear distinction between paedophiles and pederasts might be drawn by the media? 

Elagabalus

Elagabalus (reigned 218-222) is perhaps the most bizarre of all the Roman Emperors. He was just fourteen when he took the throne after a brief civil war. His success was organized by his maternal grandmother, Julia Maesa, the sister-in-law of the earlier Emperor Septimius Severus (reigned 193-211; the only emperor in a period of half a century to die in his bed). Julia's family were Syrians, and from his late father, Varius Avitus Bassianus, the boy inherited the hereditary priesthood of El Gabal, the Syrian sun god, at Emesa: hence the name by which he is usually known.
   The young Emperor's dedication to his god was such that he brought the sun-god's symbol, a black phallic-shaped meteorite, to Rome, to be housed in a vast new temple on the Palatine hill. The stone was carried into the city on a richly decorated chariot, with Elagabalus ahead of it, walking backward to face the god. The senators were obliged to stand and watch. 
   Elagabalus was married at least three times during his brief reign, including once to a Vestal Virgin, but he showed little interest in any of his wives. He seems to have been entirely homosexual. He is described as flouncing about in women's clothes and makeup, and his most elaborately celebrated marriage was as "bride" to the charioteer Hierocles. He headed an expensive court, with exotic banquets, where he enjoyed playing practical jokes on the senators.
   After four years of this, his grandmother decided things had gone too far, and she arranged that Elagabalus should be murdered by the Praetorian Guards. His body was thrown in the Tiber, and he was replaced as Emperor by his 14-year-old cousin Alexander Severus (another of Julia Maesa's grandsons), who was more sober in his habits. Alexander reigned till 235, before he in his turn was murdered by the soldiers. The sacred black stone of El Gabal was returned to its home in Emesa, where its worship continued undiminished after its brief sojourn in Rome.

Edward Gibbon, in his "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire", was at his most magisterial on the subject of Elagabalus (whom he called "Heliogabalus", after the Roman sun-god):- "The grave senators confessed with a sigh that, after having long experienced the stern tyranny of their own countrymen, Rome was at length humbled beneath the effeminate luxury of Oriental despotism"; and again:- "The corrupt and opulent nobles of Rome gratified every vice that could be collected from the mighty conflux of nations and manners. Secure of impunity, careless of censure, they lived without restraint in the patient and humble society of their slaves and parasites. The emperor, in his turn, viewing every rank of his subjects with the same contemptuous indifference, asserted without control his sovereign privilege of lust and luxury". How about that for rolling eighteenth century prose? (It has been said that "Gibbon's description of the vices of Elagabalus beats a hasty retreat behind a decent veil of Latin footnotes"!)

I first learnt about Elagabalus in an entertaining historical novel called "Family Favourites" by Alfred Duggan. This is probably out of print, but it should be possible to find it.

Footnote: Elagabalus's official name as Emperor was Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. It was put about that his real father was Septimius Severus's son Caracalla (reigned 211-217), who had been popular with the soldiers.

The 1916 Easter Rising in Dublin

From 1880 the Irish Nationalist party regularly won around 80 seats in the British Parliament, taking virtually every seat outside Ulster. The party's domination of southern Ireland was such that eventually the majority of their M.P.s were returned unopposed, with no other party bothering to put up candidates against them. The Irish Nationalists could wield considerable power after a close election. The aim of the party was to achieve Home Rule for Ireland; that is, not complete independence, but a type of devolution similar to that held by Scotland nowadays. The party was officially peaceful in its tactics, but there was always an extremist republican element in Ireland, making its presence felt with occasional terrorist outrages and murders. The republicans were known under the general name of "Fenians".
    In 1886 and 1893 the Liberal Prime Minister Gladstone put forward two Home Rule Bills. They were strongly opposed by the Conservatives, and also awakened hostility in Protestant Ulster, where the Orange Order revived, with the slogan, "Home Rule means Rome Rule": a self-governing Ireland would be dominated by the Catholic Church. Liberals opposed to Home Rule left the party and merged with the Conservatives, under the name of the Unionist Party.
  The two general elections of 1910 left the Liberals and Conservatives equally balanced in Parliament, and the Irish Nationalists, led by John Redmond, agreed to support Asquith's Liberal government in return for a new Home Rule Bill. The Ulstermen under Sir Edward Carson vowed to start an armed revolt in Home Rule was forced upon them, and their campaign was irresponsibly supported by the Conservatives. Redmond dared not make concessions on Ulster, since he was being outflanked by a number of republican groups, such as Sin Fein and the Irish Republican Brotherhood. The Irish Volunteer Force formed in the south. Both sides started to import arms, particularly from Germany. The House of Lords held up the Home Rule Bill until the summer of 1914, when, as fate would have it, its passing exactly coincided with the outbreak of the First World War. Home Rule then passed into law, but its implementation was suspended until peace should return. The whole question of Ulster was left unresolved.

When the war came, the Orangemen flocked to the colours in such numbers that they formed their own division, the 36th (Ulster), nicknamed "Carson's Army". They were held in readiness for the great offensive planned in 1916. The IVF were allowed to be a sort of militia, to protect Ireland against German invasion. Military conscription, begun in 1915, was never imposed in Ireland. Redmond's party gave full support to the British war effort, but elsewhere in Ireland various groups looked to an armed rebellion, to be supported by Germany. The prospective rebels, contrary to popular belief, did not include Sinn Fein, led by Arthur Griffith: the main activists being the Irish Republican Brotherhood, under the somewhat cloudy intellectual Patrick Pearse, and the "Citizens' Army" of the trades union leader James Connolly. Militants infiltrated the IVF, and the movement split. Meanwhile Sir Roger Casement, a former diplomat, negotiated with the German government for the supply of arms to the rebels, and  toured prisoner of war camps in Germany, trying to recruit Irishmen to fight against Britain, though without any notable success. Near the end of 1915, Pearce and Connolly fixed the date of Easter 1916 for an armed rising.

The rising was marked by considerable confusion and incompetence on both sides. British military intelligence had learnt of the plans through intercepted transatlantic cables, but had neglected to inform Birrell, the Irish Secretary. The Prime Minister, Asquith, continued in his traditional Irish policy, which was, in the words of one historian, "to postpone the evil day when something would have to be done". Casement,disillusioned with the lack of German interest, was now determined to call off the rising. The Germans did send arms, but on an aged steamer, the "Ald", which astonishingly had no radio. Having failed to make contact with rebel forces off Tralee on Thursday April 20th, the "Ald" was intercepted by a British warship and scuttled two days later. Casement was landed in Kerry from a German submarine, but was quickly captured and taken to London. Eoin MacNeill, an academic historian who was the commander of the IVF but had possibly been kept in the dark about Pierse's plans, now published an order calling off the rising, thus spreading further confusion.
    Nevertheless, on Easter Monday, April 24th, about 1200 men from the Volunteers and the Citizens' Army paraded through Dublin and occupied the Post Office and other buildings. At 12.45 a manifesto was issued proclaiming an Irish Republic and the formation of a provisional government. With the planned offensive on the Somme a little more than a month away, it is not surprising that there were very few front-line troops or commanders in Ireland. In fact, the Beggar's Bush barracks was almost empty, and Dublin Castle, the seat of government, was so weakly garrisoned that the rebels could have seized it quite easily had they made the attempt. In fact the rebels made no serious attempt to spread the rising throughout the city, and there was only small and scattered action in the rest of Ireland.
   Fighting continued for a week. The gunboat "Helga" on the river Liffey fired shells that destroyed the Post Office and surrounding buildings. The rebels in the Post Office surrendered on April 29th, followed by the various other isolated groups. Total deaths have been estimated as 64 rebels, 132 government forces and about 230 civilians. The survivors attracted no support as they were led away into captivity: most Dubliners blamed them for the devastation caused by shellfire and for the fact that the occupants of the slums had taken advantage of the confusion by pillaging the shops. Compared with the Bolshevik seizure of St. Petersburg, successfully organized by Trotsky just eighteen months later, the whole rising looks distinctly amateurish.

Pearse and his friends must soon have realised that their cause was doomed to failure, but saw themselves as heroic martyrs in the cause of Irish independence; and the British government, in an extraordinary misreading of the situation, now proceeded to give them the opportunity for martyrdom. It was quite understandable, under the circumstances of the First World War, that men who started an armed rebellion with the expectation of German help should be charged with treason: and it could even be argued that the government reaction was quite moderate. 77 rebels were sentenced to death by court-martial, but in the end only 16 were executed. Eamon de Valera was reprieved because he was an American citizen by birth; and another reprieved (to her intense disgust) was the only woman sentenced to death: Countess Markiewicz, formerly Constance Gore-Booth of Lissadel house, whose beauty had been admired by the poet W. B. Yeats. One name for the future, Michael Collins, was not considered important enough to be executed.
     John Redmond, the leader of the Irish Nationalist party, had been entirely opposed to the rising, but, fearing the consequences for Irish public opinion, he now begged the Prime Minister not to allow the executions to take place. Undoubtedly Asquith could have done this, if only to order a postponement, but he refused to take any action, and must take much of the blame for what followed. The executions went ahead. Their impact on public opinion was made much worse by the fact that the sixteen condemned men were not shot on a single day, but in twos and threes, spread out over more than a week. As a grotesque finale, James Connolly, who had been wounded in the leg and was unable to walk, was dosed with morphine and tied in a chair to be shot on May 12th.
   
Yeats was in England at the time, but was deeply moved by these events, and composed one of his most famous poems, "Easter 1916", with the refrain, "All changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born". Of course Yeats was right, and so was Redmond. One man who was "changed utterly" was Arthur Griffith, the founder of Sinn Fein, who, despite his non-involvement in the rising, was now interned alongside other suspects. He now heard that "men whom he knew and loved" had been "murdered in cold blood by the English law" and "longed for vengeance on the murderers". The shift in Irish public opinion was soon to become evident. In the meantime, there was more death. Sir Roger Casement was charged with high treason. His trial, bizarrely, turned on an arcane legal argument on the precise wording of the Treason Act of 1351, which was of course written in Norman French. He was convicted and, after an appeal had been rejected, was hanged in Pentonville prison on August 3rd. During the course of all this, the "Black books", Casement's alleged diaries, found their way into the press, revealing him to be a homosexual. It has been disputed ever since whether these were genuine, and whether it was a dirty trick perpetrated by the British government. (In the present day, Casement would have been branded a paedophile and universally reviled)
   By that time, however, the most far-reaching slaughter had already occurred, for the first day of the great Somme offensive had come on July 1st. The 36th (Ulster) division (many of them,it was said, wearing the sashes of the Orange Order) stormed into attack north of Thiepval, seizing the Schwaben redoubt and pressing onwards before being cut off by German counterattacks. They won two Victoria Crosses that day, but suffered grievous losses. Three of their battalions, the County Down Volunteers, the Donegal and Fermanagh Volunteers, and the Armagh, Monaghan and Cavan Volunteers, each lost over 500 men and ceased to exist as viable units, as did in other parts of the Somme battlefield two battalions of the Tyneside Irish and the Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers from the regular army. One can imagine the sentiments in Protestant Ulster, finding their boys slaughtered fighting the Germans whilst in the south, rebels were trying to import German arms. The polarisation of Irish feeling was getting ever wider.

Postscript: A quotation from Patrick Pearse: “We may make mistakes in the beginning and shoot the wrong people, but bloodshed is a cleansing and a sanctifying thing, and the nation which regards it as the final horror has lost its manhood”. This would not seem out of place coming from Hitler or Mussolini!   

(To be continued)  

Catherine the Great

(This is a continuation of my earlier piece on Russian empresses)

Peter III was proclaimed Tsar of Russia immediately on the sudden death of his aunt, the Empress Elizabeth, at Christmas 1762. He inherited a country at the peak of its power: the war against Frederick the Great of Prussia was successful, with Russian troops occupying Berlin There was no opposition to Peter's succession, but there must have been severe doubts among those who knew him. Peter was half German in ancestry, and entirely German in upbringing and outlook. He had been brought to Russia at the age of 13, to be Elizabeth's heir, but had never bothered to conceal his dislike for everything about his new country: its religion, its language, its military system. Furthermore, although he was now 32, he seemed remarkably childish, even feeble-minded, in his behaviour. This was in stark contrast with his very strong-minded wife. She was Sophia; another German, from the insignificant little principality of Anhalt-Zerbst, who had been personally recommended by Frederick the Great, of all people. Sophia was brought to Russia aged 14, where she was converted to Orthodoxy and renamed Catherine; and in 1744 she and Peter were duly married.

          They did not get on. Peter preferred playing with his toy soldiers, while Catherine concentrated on making friends and allies at court; and, according to gossip, taking lovers. In 1754 a son was born, named Paul. The child's parentage was always in doubt. The Empress Elizabeth took the matter very calmly, saying, on hearing stories of the child’s alleged bastardy, “If he is, he’s not the first in my family!” But when Paul grew up he also acted very strangely, so maybe he really was Peter’s son!

          Things got more uncertain for Catherine in 1757, when Elizabeth suffered a stroke, bringing the question of the succession to the fore. Catherine gave birth that year to a girl, and Peter openly expressed doubts on the child’s paternity. "God knows where she gets these pregnancies from!" he exclaimed, "It's not from me!" 

    The Chancellor Bestuzhev, who was close to Catherine, was arrested and exiled; but now Catherine began to take up with a young army officer, Gregory Orlov, one of five brothers, without much education but strong and courageous, who had distinguished himself by his heroism at the battle of Zondorf against the Prussians. When Catherine was again pregnant in 1761, few doubted that Orlov was the father. Then on Christmas Day 1761, Elizabeth died, leaving personal debts of 675,000 roubles, but with her army holding Berlin. Her weird nephew duly succeeded.

          Peter was duly as bad as predicted. Some of his measures, like the decree releasing nobles from lifelong service to the state, but allowing them to retire to their estates whenever desired would have been popular; and another which abolished the Secret Chancellery (a forerunner of the secret political police) might seem admirable nowadays. His ending of the persecution of the Old Believers sect stemmed not from enlightened toleration, but from contempt for the Orthodox Church. More seriously, he was effectively the international president of the Frederick the Great Fan Club. He immediately pulled Russia out of the war with Prussia and renounced all conquests, just when a final and complete victory seemed just a matter of time. He even reversed Russian foreign policy to ally with Prussia against Elizabeth's ally, Austria! (see footnote for an odd echo of this in the 20th century!). He further infuriated Russia’s victorious army by remodelling drill and uniforms on Prussian lines. He was now openly hostile to Catherine, and was said to be intending to confine her to a convent and disinherit her son Paul. Catherine’s supporters even spread rumours he intended to murder her. Soon plots were forming against him.

          He lasted just six months. The Orlov brothers laid plans well. At dawn one day in June 1762, Catherine, staying at the Peterhof palace, was roused by Alexei Orlov, Gregory's thuggish brother, and driven to St Petersburg, where, like Elizabeth twenty years earlier, she immediately won the support of the Guards regiments. She appeared on the balcony of the Winter Palace with her young son, and made a speech criticizing Peter’s friendship with Prussia and hostility to the Church (though without naming him personally), and was proclaimed Empress by vast crowd. There was no suggestion of her merely being regent for her son! A few of Peter’s supporters were arrested, but there was no serious resistance.

          While all this was going on, Peter was at Oranienburg, along the coast. He did not attempt to rally his friends, but tried to flee to the Kronstadt naval base, where the sailors did not allow him to land. He returned to Oranienburg, was arrested, signed a document of abdication and was confined to fortress. A week later it was announced that he had died. He was presumably strangled by Alexei Orlov, but the announcement said had died of haemorrhoids! (The French philosopher, D’Alembert, commented, “Haemorrhoids are clearly very dangerous in Russia!” and rejected an invitation to visit the country because he suffered from them himself). 
    Yet again, the Guards had determined the Russian succession. Once again, they had placed a woman on the Imperial throne, but this time one without any dynastic claim and without a single drop of Russian blood. What would she make of it?

         

Catherine II was one of the most important of all the Tsars. She is usually called Catherine the Great; though when I was visiting Russia back in the Communist days, I was interested to learn that she was not given the epithet there. She appears in the history books as one of the trio known as the "Enlightened Despots", alongside Frederick the Great of Prussia and Joseph II of Austria: rulers who used their autocratic powers to reform and modernize their countries.

     Catherine massively expanded the Russian empire. Together with Frederick and Joseph, she took advantage of the weakness of Poland to divide up the country between them in three partitions. In 1795 Poland disappeared from the map until after the First World War. This also had the effect of bringing vast numbers of Jews within the Russian empire. In 1791 Catherine issued a decree banning Jews from Moscow and St. Petersburg, which later developed into the "Pale of Settlement"; an area of western Russia outside of which Jews were not permitted to live. Poles were to be irreconcilable enemies of Russia, and pogroms against Jews, often with official encouragement, were to be one of the most disgraceful features of nineteenth century Russia.
    The other large state on Russia's border was the Ottoman (Turkish) empire. The Ukraine had always been an uncertain border region, contested between Russia and Poland, with Cossack forces of uncertain loyalty and periodic raids by Turkish and Tatar forces from the Crimea. But now the Ottomans were beginning their long decline, and the Don Cossacks were tamed and many were resettled in the Kuban and along the Terek, guarding Russia's new frontier on the northern slopes of the Caucasus. General Suvurov defeated the Turks in 1768, and Potemkin, Catherine's lover, general, organizer and right-hand man was able to establish permanent bases and the Black Sea and to conquer the Crimea for Russia. He founded the city of Odessa. The Ottomans also began to look vulnerable in what is now Moldova and Romania, though Russian forces invading there would be likely to provoke a crisis with the Austrians.
   And not just the Austrians. I have seen a cartoon in which the Devil offers a delighted Catherine two cities: Warsaw and Constantinople. Her obvious ambitions in the Black Sea area and towards the Bosporus straits (she even had two of her grandsons given the names of Alexander and Constantine; names not known in Russia before this) led to a serious diplomatic crisis with Britain. This was the start of one of the great themes of 19th century foreign policy; the so-called "Eastern question": how Britain might protect Turkey against Russian penetration. Catherine had already angered Britain by her hostile attitude during the war of American independence, where she turned down a rather desperate British attempt to buy her support by offering her the island of Minorca!

 Catherine was fascinated by the philosophical movement known as the "enlightenment". She corresponded with Voltaire and persuaded the French philosophe Denis Diderot to come to Russia, talking with him on a daily basis. She established schools for girls, encouraged inoculation against smallpox. She reformed local government structures, and in 1766 summoned a "Great Commission" to discuss all aspects of laws and government, but, typically, did not permit any real power to pass from her own hands. She continued to employ great architects, mostly Italian, but including a Scotsman: Charles Cameron. She also bought the magnificent collection of paintings accumulated by the British prime Minister, Sir Robert Walpole, when his feckless grandson was forced to sell them. (I remember on my first visit to the Hermitage being suddenly confronted by a portrait of Archbishop Laud by Sir Anthony Van Dyck, and thinking for a moment that I was back in England!)

None of this did anything to improve the lot of the Russian peasant serfs, who made up 90% of the population. In 1774 she faced a major revolt in the Volga and Urals region of peasants, disaffected Cossacks and racial minorities like the Bashkirs and Kalmyks, led by the Cossack Pugachev, who improbably claimed to be the murdered Peter III. There was enormous slaughter on both sides before the rising was crushed and the leaders publicly quartered.
   A pretender of a different kind was a mysterious young lady who turned up in Italy, claiming to be the daughter of the Empress Elizabeth. Alexei Orlov was dispatched to deal with her. After chatting her up he persuaded her to come aboard a Russian ship, where she was promptly arrested and taken back to Russia and imprisonment. In 1775 she died of tuberculosis, alone in her cell, maintaining till the end that she was Elizabeth's daughter. Her true identity remains a mystery. The most tragic case was that of the former baby Tsar, Ivan VI, who had been held in prison ever since his deposition by Elizabeth. The instructions were that he was to be killed if there was any plot to free him. In 1764 an eccentric young nobleman called Mirovich did attempt this; but the gaolers had time to stab Ivan to death before he could be rescued. Mirovich was executed and his co-conspirators savagely flogged.

   Catherine continued to have numerous lovers as the years advanced; often very young men,who had enormous wealth lavished upon them. Not surprisingly, wildly scandalous accounts of her supposedly voracious and perverse sexual appetites circulated amongst Russia's enemies. She lived to witness the French Revolution, which predictably horrified her. It is said that she purged her gallery of "worthies", destroying the effigies of Voltaire, whose writings were said to have inspired the revolution, and the English Whig leader Charles James Fox, who spoke in support of it.

    She died in 1796, and was succeeded by her son Paul; the first direct parent-to-son succession in the whole 18th century. Catherine had never thought much of him, and would not have been surprised that within five years he had met the same fate as his father; being deposed and strangled. So Russian traditions of succession by coup were continued.

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Note: The salvation of Prussia when Elizabeth died and Peter  succeeded had an odd reprise in the 20th century. In the spring of 1945, with Hitler trapped in the bunker in Berlin by the attacking Soviet forces, Goebbels tried to cheer up the Fuhrer by reading him an account from the British historian Thomas Carlyle of how Frederick the Great was saved by the death of Elizabeth and the accession of Peter III. Soon afterwards the news came through the President Roosevelt had died. For just a day or so, Hitler believed that the luck of Germany had held again; and the news that America would continue in the war was one of the factors which led him to abandon hope and commit suicide.

Recent Reads: Catullus and others

The cold weather has enabled me the time to read several recently-published books:-

The first I would recommend is "Catullus's Bedspread", by Daisy Dunn, about the great Roman poet who was a contemporary of Caesar and Cicero. When I was doing school Latin, nobody told me that Roman poetry could be so remarkably rude and obscene: far beyond anything that would be acceptable nowadays!
  Secondly: Simon Sebag Montefiore's "The Romanovs", Montefiore concentrates on personal details rather than politics, and there are plenty of sordid details to tell about this seriously weird dynasty. My only criticism would be that he gives far too much attention to the killing of Nicholas II and his family. Of course it was a tragedy, but the man was extremely stupid and also violently antisemitic (he believed every word of the "Protocols of the Elders of Zion", which his own secret police had put out); and an immense number of Jews were slaughtered in pogroms during his reign.
   On this topic, we have David Cesarani's "Final Solution": an enormous book on the Holocaust. Cesarani stresses throughout how improvised, incoherent and generally chaotic the Nazi campaign of mass murder was. Cesarani, whom I met once, sadly died prematurely last year, and this book will have to serve as his posthumous achievement.
   Another large book is "The Story of Alice", by Robert Douglas-Fairhurst. I wouldn't have thought it was possible to write a dull book about Lewis Carroll and Alice, but I found this tough going. There was simply too much detail, particularly on things that might have influenced Carroll, and the result was frequently indigestible.