Mythic Cheshire: Basics
Cheshire is a traditionally English county that’s just to the north of Wales. Its county town is Chester, which is in the far west of the county. Chester was a Roman fortress used to pacify the people in what’s in modern north Wales. In 1220 Cheshire is a different shape to what you’ll see on modern maps. Two parts of northern Wales are part of Cheshire. Eventually Edward the First chopped them off to create Flintshire. It also heads out east into what’s now Derbyshire. The long tail that spreads off the northeast of historical Cheshire is a mountain valley called Longdendale which is going to be our initial focus, because a useful source of folktales in audio has fallen to hand. Having said it is our initial focus I’m now going to ignore it for the rest of this post.
Cheshire as legal oddity
Cheshire is treated as if it’s not quite English in 1220. As an example, the Magna Carta doesn’t bind Chester, so the Earl issues his own charter instead. The Earldom of Chester is palatinate, that is, the holder acts with the authority of the king, unless directly countermanded. This is rare in England: there are a few others (the bishop of Durham, the Earl of Lancaster) and there’s a rough equivalent on the Welsh border (the Marcher lords) and in the Duchy of Cornwall. This is one of the reasons that the English king takes the opportunity to grab the title in 1254. You’ll notice that was the general policy: in 2025 the Prince of Wales is the king’s heir, a leftover of the move to make the marcher lords less important. The Duchy of Cornwall is vested in the Prince of Wales and the Duchy of Lancaster is held by the monarch but, very carefully, not as part of the Crown Estate. It’s the financial structure where the royal family keeps its private cash. In 1220 Cheshire’s effectively a weird little pocket kingdom that spreads out into what’s now North Wales, and that makes it useful for Ars Magica.
Chester was a major Roman settlement and the recent archaeological excavations of its coliseum will prove useful. Similarly there are prehistoric ruins which are folkloristicaly attributed to the druids that serve as plot hooks. It’s not the Caerleon that was often given as a site for Camelot, but the City of Legions is mentioned reputedly in his stories and those can be stolen. Some Cheshire historians claim Geoffrey of Monmouth moved Camelot to the other Caerleon because his patron owned it, but let’s leave that aside: it’s a fun plot hook and in a Magonomia mentioned in another episode I’d use it.
Nobility
In 1220 the Earl of Chester is Ranulf de Blondeville. He’s off on the Fifth Crusade along with most of his barons. Yes, his barons: barons can hold from him rather than the king, which is unusual in English law. By his death in 1232 he’s a dinosaur: the last of King John’s Anglo-Norman lords who has held on despite the changes time has poured over the culture. He’s also Earl of Lincoln, and one of the great magnates of the realm: technically able to call up 110 knights from his lands in England, plus another 80 from Cheshire. He has no son and his lands are divided between his four sisters, so that his territory effectively explodes into pieces. This title, and the chunk of land in Cheshire go to the son of his eldest sister, Matilda. He’s called John of Scotland for reasons which are complicated but might be important given the different Hermetic cultures of the two tribunals.
Matilda married David, Earl of of Huntingdon. Huntingdonsire is deep into England, near Cambridgeshire, but he’s the third son of Henry, prince of Scotland. Huntingdon was a dowry given to David’s grandmother when she married the King of Scotland. David’s father, Henry, was heir to the Scots throne but died before his grandfather. When his grandfather did pass away the initial division of lands was that his eldest brother became King of Scotland, his second-eldest became Earl of Northumbria, and he took Huntingdon. His son keeps this, so Cheshire is still this odd place that’s sort-of in England and ruled by the nephew of the King of Scotland (who also happens to be Earl of Northumbria, which is fantastically unhelpful when it comes to border wars with the Scots.].
The role of Constable of Cheshire isn’t in the Earl’s gift: it comes from the king becasue Chester’s a royal castle. It s held by John de Lacy, who inherited it from his mother but had to pay a huge fee for it, because it’s legally not heritable. He’s also off on the Fifth Crusade. The coat of arms of the de Lacy family is a purple lion on a gold field, and badly-drawn versions of this, on pub signs, are one of the origin stories given for the Cheshire Cat. Regarding Alice in Wonderland I’m in two minds: her stories are focused on a deck of cards and a modern – powerful Queen – chess set. Neither of these work in 1220. Also, there’s literally no plot there and I’ve sold the Jabberwock to the Magonomia roleplaying game. De lacy going to be less active in Chester after 1232, when he becomes the Earl of Lincoln by right of his wife.
There is a Sherriff of Cheshire: his name’s Richard Davenport and he has no power save the king’s word. That’s deliberate. Sheriffs, by royal preference, need the king to have power. Over time nobles capture the office of sheriff, but that hasn’t happened here yet. A sheriff in a palatine county is even more powerless than usual because the earl’s word is as the king’s word. This creates a hook on this NPC that the player characters might exploit.
Religious Foundations
In 1102 the Bishop of Chester moved his cathedral to Coventry, although the kept the title and property. That’s handy for magi as this drops the Dominion Aura in the city and keeps it down. He does have a co-cathedral, but it is outside the city. A second significant holy site is the Benedictine monastery of St Werburgh, which is the cathedral in Chester in 2025, although it is smaller in period. She’s the patron saint of Chester and is represented by extremely aggressive geese, which is going to be fun.
