MATILDA OF ARGYLL is a bold and dramatic adventure, ripped from the pages of history, seen through the eyes and told from the heart of those who lived through this epic period. Historian Sarah Chloe Burns reaches back in time to recap the blending of French and English royalty following William the Conqueror’s victory at the Battle of Hastings (1036 A.D.). Chapter one begins with a conversation which might have occurred between his granddaughter Matilda and her husband—Geoffrey Plantagenet—in Angers, France (1136 A.D.). The true story of this historic Matilda sets the backdrop for a dramatic tale which could have connected her bloodline to the future, fictional Matilda of Argyll. As Matilda Campbell’s story begins in1638, this high-spirited and intelligent nineteen-year-old Scot is unwilling to accept society’s rules and barriers regarding gender and class. Her penchant for independent thinking will take her far—eventually across the ocean to Jamestown, Virginia—but at what cost? There, she will witness race and class distinction of a manner she could never have imagined. Stretching from London City, England to the Scottish Highlands; from Mali, Africa to the West Indies, the story lines of Scottish, English and African peoples of many classes will intersect in an intensely dramatic fashion. What makes Matilda a truly entertaining and enlightening experience is the manner in which Burns weaves the pages of recorded history, and the footsteps of those who made that history, with her colorful fictional characters.
- Steven Carter, Ph.D. HR HR “A few years ago, I had the pleasure of being part of a gathering of scholars interested in women’s history as part of the Oxford Round Table. It was there that I met Sarah Chloe Burns. When she asked me to write a Foreword for Matilda of Argyll, I accepted immediately, knowing what a welcome contribution Sarah’s book would make to the field of women’s studies. Those of us engaged in Women’s History realize that much of our work involves reading and interpreting the silences. The story of women and their place in society over the ages is often called the underside of history. In her new edition of Matilda of Argyll, Sarah has once again managed to weave vast slices of recorded history with the stories of fictional characters who are richly and lovingly drawn. The work of revising, the painful task of letting go of some cherished sections of the original while expanding the historical context, has yielded an eminently readable and engaging story. Sarah continues to help a wider audience to appreciate this important but still under-explored dimension in the evolving story of humanity.” |
SPRING, 1638: From the Caribbean to Jamestown...
Awakened before daylight, Mamadou and several other of the largest, strongest Africans were led from their huts on the sugar plantation, and taken by wagon to a ship on the coast. Was this the end of their captivity?
And so, day after day, he watched for a glimpse of the homeland…..until the sight of land brought fresh heartache. This was not the same coast from which he was shipped away long ago…..Mamadou looked skyward and uttered, “Oh Great Chief in the Sky, and Ishtar, Mother of my Mothers, if you will not deliver me from my captors, grant that my remaining days may be blessed with blissful purpose.”
After Mamadou is sold to a Jamestown Planter...
With all four children asleep, Fiona tiptoed out of the nursery, leaving Beth to respond to her children…..The windows were still open, and a cold evening breeze blew in from the James River…..
Fiona smiled adoringly, hazily, as she drifted off to sleep. In a fuzzy haze, she saw a group of African men in front of her, kneeling. Their lips were moving, but no words could be heard. Their eyes were large and fearful, but no one observed their fear. Fiona tried to speak to them, but they could not hear her. She struggled to escape from the empathy she felt, but it was squeezing her chest, taking her breath away. She awoke suddenly, with a start; William’s hands were caressing her breasts, evoking the customary response.
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…A full moon lit the town of York, and the storm had remitted for now. Slipping quickly into her woolen dress and coat, she carried her boots with her as she moved down the staircase…..
Retracing their entry into the town proper, Matty raced down the street toward the mounded fortress and wall they had passed earlier. The cold night air and the sense of adventure she felt filled Matty’s body with pure pleasure. The essence of damp earth penetrated her senses, even as the wind whipped across her face…..
Crack! The flash of lightning came from out of nowhere. Matty fell to the ground as the sound of thunder reverberated across the wet landscape. She lay there stunned. Had she been struck?
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SUMMER 1638: Near Glasgow, Scotland...
The idea of a connection with the Campbell clan had at first simply sounded like a wise coalition. Then Laird Robert had journeyed into the mind and spirit of Matilda Campbell. Now, daily, he found himself agonizing over the possibility that Matilda would not wish to be his wife…..
Robert sat in his office, situated off of the great room of his home, Lennox Hall…..He closed his eyes, ran his strong fingers through his thick, dark, wavy hair, and relived that magical stroll through the garden of the Campbell’s townhouse.
Matty was once again close, her curvaceous body teasing his senses, coaxing his body in a manner so powerful he could hardly contain himself.
Argyll, Scotland...
Colin Campbell was watching as the last of the miners in Colliery number four ascended to the top level. All were soaked to the bone, covered with dampened coal dust, and some reported small cave-ins throughout the gangways. Some chutes had been cut off altogether, and would have to be re-dug eventually…..
“Jesus and God, don’t let it be!” Colin exclaimed, as he began to run across the slippery wet hillside, like a man much younger and stronger than his fifty-five years should be…..
“I ask you once again, did every man get out of that mine? Where’s Gavin?” He looked from face to face, until finally, he saw Aidan McConnell, the foreman, “Aidan, where is me son, Gavin?”
Miner's Town, Campbell Estate...
Entering the one-room daub and waddle hut, Matty was overwhelmed with the close proximity in which they were forced to live, play, eat, even breathe. Five children she had given birth to, and the smallest still in diapers. The smell of the mud walls and diaper urine permeated the air, as Mrs. McConnell sat by the open fire. A skillet of biscuits was baking next to a pot of soup, and the children were scampering about…..
Matty took the scarf she was wearing about her shoulders and wrapped it around the neck of the wide-eyed McConnell daughter, who looked like a beautiful, miniature version of her mother—the way she must have looked before hard work and childrearing took her youth and beauty away…..
“Why, thank ye. Are ye loanin’ it to me?” Flora asked.
“No, dear. That is my thanks to you for sharin’ your Mama with my nephew…..
“Oh yes, that’s so generous of ye! I promise I won’t wear it when I work in the mines,” she concluded.
Matty stood there in shock…
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SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1638: Sailing for Scotland
“Wake up! Oh, please wake up, Mama! It’s Beth. I think she is dying. There is blood everywhere,” Christine told her mother.
Fiona was instantly awake, standing up from her cot. The boat rocked wildly, so she had to hold on. Her heart was pounding as she looked across to Beth’s bunk, but she was not there…..
Fiona’s heart raced so that she felt it would explode before she found Beth. Back to the private area she walked, shakily, and there she found Beth, lying flat out on the floor. Not only had her cervical plug released, but her water had burst as well, and—after Fiona lifted Beth’s skirt—she saw that the head of the baby was crowning.
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AUGUST 1638: London City; Bruce Campbell returns to school
To experience the best that London City has to offer, one should probably plan to visit in August. At least, that was the conclusion Bruce Campbell reached when he returned to Westminster Academy in August of 1638. …the sun shining on his shoulders as he stepped off the ship at Portsmouth seemed to him a very grand and personal welcome. From that port, he traveled by coach back to London, a long sixteen-hour journey...
Bruce had often promised himself that he would some day take a detour along the route of his Saturday walk to and from the Royal Exchange…..because of his recent high standard of work at school, Bruce felt somewhat inclined to indulge his senses in more risky behavior…..
...as he savored every bite of his meal, he continued to steal glances around the room, taking in the types of clothing worn, the degree of cleanliness (filthiness, would be more appropriate he thought distastefully). He would have some adjusting to do. Unfortunately, some of the locals who noticed his gaze were none too happy about his presence. Just as Bruce was preparing to stand up and leave, a large and particularly grimy-looking giant of a man stepped into his path.
“So, nobody’s to your likin’ here, little prince? And I thought all of you Scots were supposed to be mighty with brawn and virility! Oh, you’re surprised that I could recognize your accent, are ye then? Bein’ the stupid peasant that I am! I just dare ye to walk out that door without samplin’ more of our wares,” he shouted at Bruce.
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DECEMBER 1638: London city
Back in Westminster, Bruce raced around the entire area of Wenceslaus Hollar looking for Nellie, and eventually approached the academy again, wary of being discovered by Mr. Busby or anyone he might have sent to discover the wayward student. He approached the academy from a distance, his eyes scouring the surrounding area and yelling for Nellie, and at long last received a response…..At last, his eyes rested on the pesthouse across from the academy. Walking tentatively in the direction of this forlorn building, he called Nellie’s name again. Incredulously, he received a response. Filled with fright and a sense of foreboding, he walked slowly toward the pesthouse and called once again.| Back to Top |
JANUARY 1639: Jamestown, Virginia
Matty was transfixed. She could hardly believe what had just occurred. She asked urgently for assistance at this most dangerous moment of her life, and he had appeared. Staring into the forest, she seemed to journey through time. She was on the hillside in York, almost a year ago, staring up the mound at the dark figure of a man who was trying to get to her. He was trying to warn her…..
“Yes,” said Mamadou. “I know you. You are Ishtar,” he said, pointing to the heavens. “Ishtar means star,” he said, proud of his English.
