TEST
this review is by Arnette Lamb
The first time I read Border Lord, I was about twelve. I fell in love with both the Border Lord (Francis Stewart, 5th Earl of Bothwell) and Sir Patrick Galbraith; and I loathed the Earls of Morton and Maitland (the king’s wicked advisers and Bothwell’s worst enemies), and wondered at King James’s stupidity.
The story is set in 1591 in Scotland, not long after Mary Queen of Scots died in England at the command of Queen Elizabeth I. Its background is the ongoing conflict between the most powerful lord in the Scottish Borders and King James VI of Scotland (the latter being a man who did not protest the death of his own mother, so badly did he want to control the Scottish throne himself).
The historic details, for the most part, sailed right over my head that first time. I think I understood that Mary Queen of Scots was already dead when the story opened, but I doubt if I realized that my stupid King James was the one who eventually succeeded Elizabeth of England and ruled both countries as one.
I was fascinated by the customs and habits of the period, but most of all, I was fascinated by Bothwell and Anne Galbraith, a lady who dared to wear a kilt, showing her knees in an era when women all wore long, full skirts. The minor detail that in those days even men’s kilts did not reveal their knees unless they were running escaped me completely. I could see Anne in my mind’s eye, and I loved her. The story is primarily that of her romance with Bothwell. From the moment he socks her on the chin when he finds her in his garden (politically incorrect, but I still enjoy reading that scene today) till the very last page, I rooted for Bothwell to outwit Morton, Maitland, and the King, and for Anne to bring Bothwell to his knees.
I have read Border Lord countless times since then, and I still love it and still laugh aloud at the scene where Sir Patrick and his Janet help Bothwell disguise himself to escape soldiers surrounding Janet’s house. Nowadays, with a solid background of Scottish history behind me, I understand the suggestion behind the astonishing discovery Bothwell makes later in Sterling Castle, but I didn’t care much about it in those days when I just wanted Bothwell, in that spooky dead-of-night scene, to find whatever it was and get safely out of the castle. I won’t spoil the story by explaining it here. Just suffice it to say that the discovery gives Bothwell the upper hand for a time.
As for Anne’s snowbound journey to reach her love after Sir Patrick banishes her (with a strict chaperon) to solitary confinement, I suspect now that Westcott got the notion for that journey from one made by Mary Queen of Scots to reach the fourth earl (with whom she had an affair and who most likely masterminded the death of her husband, Darnley) when that Bothwell (our Border Lord’s uncle) lay wounded at Hermitage Castle. All I cared about when I first read of Anne’s journey was what was going to happen when she got there. I was not disappointed.
The characters in this book are wonderful. James VI and his queen come alive on the pages, as do wicked Morton and Maitland and the powerful Bothwell. To complement them, Westcott created delightful characters of her own and a story that keeps one turning pages, even the tenth or twentieth time through.
I know that Border Lord influenced me heavily, and for that I owe many thanks to Jan Westcott, because it was she who first showed me how to bring history to life with emotion and humor. It is no coincidence that my first book set in Scotland is entitled Border Lord. The irony is that although it was the second book I wrote, it took time to find a publisher. They kept telling me that humor was out of place in a story about 16th century Scotland, out of place, in fact, in any historical but a Regency (and why didn’t I just update it?)
Thankfully, that trend passed swiftly, and we are now blessed with many historicals chock-full of humor. The real Francis Stewart was a well-educated but violent and unstable man. His constant battles with James VI resulted in his lands and titles being forfeited in 1591 and again in 1594 when he went into permanent exile. Hermitage then passed into the care of Sir Walter Scott of Branxholm and Buccleuch (pronounced Buck-loo ), whose family had long been associated with Hermitage. Imagine my astonished delight, years after falling in love with the Border Lord, first to learn that Hermitage (historically of vast strategic importance) had passed from him to a Scott family, and then, incredibly, to learn that my family descends from those Scotts! The present head of that family, the Duke of Buccleuch, still owns the land the castle sits on. Historic Scotland owns the castle itself, which is open to the public. I have visited all of Bothwell’s castles, and was at Hermitage last October.
The Duke of Buccleuch, like all masters of Hermitage before him, is one of the most powerful men in Scotland. A story they tell at the castle to illustrate that power is that not one stone of Hermitage was removed when the castle began to deteriorate. In most such cases, as soon as stones began falling, people would scavenge them for their own use. But when the Victorians restored Hermitage, they found every fallen stone. Not one had been taken. Fear of the Border Lord’s power was still too great then, and even now, few dare to trifle with him. I’m sure that Jan Wescott would be delighted to know that the power of the Border Lord lives on, both in the Borders and with modern readers of her wonderful book.
Grade: A
Book Type: Historical Fiction
Sensuality: N/A
Review Date: 31/05/98
Publication Date: 1946
Recent Comments …
Yep
This sounds delightful! I’m grabbing it, thanks
excellent book: interesting, funny dialogs, deep understanding of each character, interesting secondary characters, and also sexy.
I don’t think anyone expects you to post UK prices – it’s just a shame that such a great sale…
I’m sorry about that. We don’t have any way to post British prices as an American based site.
I have several of her books on my TBR and after reading this am moving them up the pile.