A Roman statesman named Cato the Elder is said to have ended
every speech in the Senate with the words “Carthago delenda est,” calling for
the destruction of Carthage, Rome’s ancient enemy. Well, I may have to begin all future blogs by
issuing a call to Helen, a winner of my last book giveaway. Helen was one of the two winners, posting on
July 17th, and she has yet to get in touch with me. So….Helen, you have a book waiting for
you. You can contact me at this link on
my website. http://www.sharonkaypenman.com/contact_penman.htm
I am
currently bogged down doing research for a critical chapter in Ransom and so I
have had to keep the real world at bay while I struggle out of this swamp. But I noticed that it is going on three weeks
since I’ve posted a new blog. What to
do? I came up with the idea of giving
you all a behind-the-scenes glimpse of the making of a novel—hopefully, it
won’t be as messy as the making of sausage or laws. Today’s blog is going to be the original
Prologue for Lionheart—the wedding night of William Marshal and the young
heiress, Isabel de Clare. It ended up on
the cutting room floor because we decided to make two books out of
Lionheart. Because of this surgery,
William Marshal disappears from the story early on and does not re-appear again
once the action moves to Sicily, Cyprus, and the Holy Land. So my editor thought it no longer made sense
to begin the book with Will and Isabel and I did a second Prologue. This left the old Prologue gathering dust,
though—until it occurred to me that some of my readers might like to read it;
who doesn’t like William Marshal, after all?
So….I now give you the original Prologue for Lionheart.
* *
* * *
PROLOGUE
AUGUST 1189
William Marshal had taken care to make his
bride’s deflowering as easy as possible, and in the afterglow of their
lovemaking, he was pleased, both with his performance and her responsiveness.
“Oh, my,” she’d murmured once she’d gotten her breath back, amusing him then by
pulling aside the bed covers to look for the requisite proof of innocence,
proudly showing him the trickle of blood staining her thighs and the sheet.
Will had harbored no doubts about her
virginity; few heiresses were given the opportunity to yield to temptation, and
Isabel de Clare was a great heiress indeed. Her father and grandfather had been
earls, her mother the daughter of an Irish king, and she brought to her husband
much more than an impeccable pedigree. She brought him, too, vast estates in
South Wales, and
Even though she was an earl’s daughter, Will did not become an earl himself by
wedding her, for only the king could bestow that title upon him. But he was now
a very wealthy man, influential beyond his wildest dreams, and he owed it all
to the girl-woman who was curled up beside him like a kitten, tickling his
chest with each swish of her long, silky hair.
“My ladies said I was fortunate that you
are no longer young,” she told him, hers the forthright candor of the indulged
and highborn. “They said young men were keener on their own pleasure, but an
older man would not be so urgent or greedy, would be able to take his time. Is
that why it did not hurt as much as I expected, Will?”
“Probably,” he agreed gravely, biting back
a smile. “A man of my advanced years
is not as likely to spill his seed too soon, the way a green lad might.”
Isabel propped herself up on her elbow.
“Just how old are you?” she asked archly, and feigned shock when Will said his
years were forty and two. “I am eighteen. So I am young enough to be your
daughter.”
She paused for dramatic effect and to see
how he’d react to her teasing. She had been very pleased when the justiciar had
told her she was to be wed to William Marshal, for he was a celebrated knight,
famous for his tournament prowess, envied by other men and favored by kings. It
troubled her not at all that he was more than twenty years her senior, for that
was often the way of their world. And Aine, her down-to-earth childhood nurse,
had pragmatically pointed out that an aging husband could be a boon to an
unhappy wife, as he was likely to die first.
Isabel did not think she’d need to worry
about that, though. From the moment she’d laid eyes upon Will, she’d marveled
at her luck, for her renowned husband-to-be was also tall and well formed, his
brown hair curling neatly at the base of his neck and the corners of his mouth
hinting at a suppressed smile.
She’d not had the time to form any
conclusions about his nature, though, for their marriage was done in haste, so eager
was Will to claim her as his. The sheriff of
offered his own residence for the wedding, insisting, too, upon taking the
costs upon himself, for although Will had a lord’s expectations, he still had a
knight’s budget. They’d been wed that noon in the stately cathedral a stone’s
throw from the sheriff’s townhouse in Friday Street, and in the morning, they
would depart for Stoke Dabernon in Surrey and the manor of one of Will’s
friends, where they’d spend a few days together before Will must answer the new
king’s summons. So when Isabel and Will exchanged their vows on
to be alone with her husband.
She’d not been nervous, though. Will’s
calm demeanor was reassuring and his de-termination to wed her as soon as
possible was flattering, for she knew she was pretty as well as rich, having
been blessed with the blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair coloring so esteemed by
minstrels and troubadours. She’d studied Will covertly during the Marriage Mass
and at the wedding feast that followed, and by the time they were ushered up to
their bridal chamber for the bedding-down revelries, she’d concluded that her
groom was good humored, proud but not boastful, a man who’d be easy to live
with, yet one who’d fiercely protect what was hers—and now his—and that, too,
was reassuring.
What she’d not known, though, was how
quick he’d be to laugh, even at himself, and she waited now to find out,
watching intently as Will rolled over onto his side so they were facing each
other, moving somewhat stiffly for he’d lacerated his leg on the voyage from
amiably. “But this I can tell you for true, lass. The way I feel about you is
not in the least fatherly.”
The words were no sooner out of his mouth
than his bride was in his arms, her breath warm on his throat. “Oh, Will, thank
Heaven you are not one of those dreadful, dour souls who would not know a jest
from a juniper bush!”
Will smiled to himself, touched by the
giddiness of youth, for she was very young, this new wife of his. He had never
hoped to be given such a prize, could still remember his astonishment when the
old king had promised her to him, a deathbed reward for years of steadfast
loyalty. He remembered, too, thinking that his bright future was lost when King
Henry drew his last tortured breath at
But the new king, Richard, had confirmed Henry’s dying promise, and at that
moment Will had begun to believe in miracles.
Even before he’d arrived at the Tower of
London to claim her, he’d felt an over-whelming tenderness for Isabel de Clare,
his bridge to a world he’d never expected to enter, for he was just a younger
son of a minor baron, a man whose worth had been measured by the strength and
accuracy of his sword-arm. Deeply grateful to the girl who would make this
transformation possible, he’d vowed to treat her like the treasure she was, to
do whatever he could to make her contented with her fate. His thankfulness had
turned to awe upon finding that she was fair, lively, and not at all loath to
wed him. Cradling Isabel’s warm curves against his body now, he kissed her
gently, then smothered a yawn, thinking drowsily that life with Isabel de Clare
was never going to be dull.
“Will…Master Reiner told me that you’d
unhorsed Richard during the old king’s flight from
Will swallowed another yawn, but he could
not resist telling her the story, one that put him in a very favorable light.
“True enough, lass. Richard and the French king had forced their way into the
city. It was already on fire, and we had a devil of a time convincing King
Henry that he had to flee. When he finally agreed to retreat, it was almost too
late. Richard had not taken part in the assault itself, but when he heard that
Henry had escaped, he set out in pursuit, even though he had neither hauberk
nor shield.”
Isabel was listening, wide-eyed. “What did
Richard mean to do once he overtook Henry?”
Will’s shoulders twitched in a half-shrug.
“I would guess that he wanted to spare his father the humiliation of being
captured by the French king’s men. I’d remained at the rear to cover Henry’s
flight, and when Richard saw me bearing down upon him, he cried out that he was
unarmed and tried to knock my lance aside. I had no intention of killing him,
of course, but I waited until the last possible moment ere I shifted my lance
and plunged it into his stallion’s chest. I think that may have been the first
time that Richard felt the fear of death like other mortal men.”
“And did you really curse Richard to the
flames of Eternal Hellfire, Will?”
“No, I told him that I’d let the Devil be
the one to kill him.” Will’s smile was wry, for that bit of bravado could have
cost him dearly, and for a time he’d thought it would. “I never regretted it,
though,” he said, “for I gained the old king the time he needed to get away.
But it was a brief reprieve. Less than a month later, he was forced to
surrender to Richard and the French king at Colombieres, so ill he could barely
stay in the saddle. We had to take carry him back to Chinon in a horse litter,
and there he learned that his youngest son, John, had betrayed him, too…”
“How sad,” Isabel said politely, for
she’d never known the old king. It was Will’s role in this royal drama that
held her interest. “Richard is a very prideful man, is he not?” And when he
nodded, she reached for his hand, entwining her fingers in his. “Yet he forgave
you for publicly shaming him, Will…why?”
“I did not expect him to be so
magnanimous,” he admitted. “But he said he bore me no grudge, and then he told
me and the other knights who’d stayed faithful to his father that we had
nothing to fear, saying dryly that loyalty to the king was not a trait he’d
want to discourage.”
“And then he said he’d honor his father’s
promise,” Isabel interrupted, “and you sailed for
in such haste to wed me that you fell off the gangplank at
“I see my squire has been telling tales,”
Will said, settling back comfortably against the pillows. The gangplank had
actually given way under the weight of too many men, not because he’d been so
eager to board ship. Isabel looked so pleased with his squire’s version,
though, that he didn’t correct it. It had been a long day and he was drifting
toward sleep when Isabel jarred the bed by sitting up suddenly, wrapping her
arms around her knees.
Although Isabel’s father had been stricken
with a fatal infection when she was just five, her mother had seen to it that
she received as good an education as her little brother, well aware of the
fragility of young life; and indeed, Isabel’s brother died before his tenth
birthday, leaving her as the sole heiress to the vast de Clare holdings. She
enjoyed reading, and her favorite books were a French translation of Geoffrey
of Monmouth’s history of ancient Britain and Chretien de Troyes Lancelot, the Knight of the Cart.
Intrigued as she was by these tales of the fabled King Arthur, his beautiful
Queen Guinevere, his evil nephew Mordred, and the most famous of his knights,
Sir Lancelot du Lac, Isabel thought that Henry Fitz Empress and his
controversial queen, the strong-willed Eleanor of Aquitaine, were just as fascinating.
She knew the outlines of their story. The
son of the Count of Anjou and the Empress Maude, Henry had done what his mother
could not–claimed her father’s crown. By twenty-one, he was King of England,
wed to a woman as mythical as Guinevere, a great heiress who was a great
beauty, too, former wife of the King of France. The French king had rejected
Eleanor for her failure to give him a male heir; she gave Henry five, four of
whom survived to manhood. But just as Arthur and Guinevere’s marriage had been
shattered by treachery, so had Henry and Eleanor’s union been doomed by
betrayal.
Guinevere had taken Arthur’s friend
Lancelot as her lover. Many felt that Eleanor’s sin was even greater, for she’d
joined her teenage sons in a rebellion against her own husband, king, and liege
lord. Isabel had heard a number of reasons offered for Eleanor’s treachery.
Most people seemed to believe that she was a jealous wife, outraged by Henry’s
love affair with a Marcher lord’s daughter. Others wondered if she’d been
bewitched or that she came from doomed and damned stock. But Isabel’s mother,
Aife, had laughed at these conjectures, for the daughter of a king understood
better than most the dynamics of power. The queen had resented Henry’s meddling
in her duchy, she’d told Isabel, for Eleanor had always seen herself, first and
foremost, as Duchess of Aquitaine, not as Henry’s consort. And Aife had
insisted that his inability to share that power even with his sons had been his
fatal weakness.
Isabel did not know if her mother was
right about Eleanor’s motivations. She could say with certainty only that
Eleanor had rebelled and was held in comfortable confinement for the next
sixteen years as her sons were forgiven, then rebelled again and again. She had
high hopes, though, that Will would be able to answer many of her questions,
for he’d been the mentor of Henry’s eldest son, Hal, and had joined the royal
household after Hal’s sudden death in the midst of yet another senseless war.
“I do not understand how a son could take
up arms against his own sire,” she confided. “And yet all of King Henry’s sons
turned against him, even John, his favorite. I’ve heard men call them the
Devil’s Brood. You knew them all, Will. Tell me how it really was. Tell me the truth,
not the legends or rumors or romance.”
Will sighed, for his body was yearning for
sleep. But he did not want to disappoint his bride upon their wedding night,
and he did his best, giving her a concise account of the Great Rebellion in
1173 that had cost Eleanor her freedom and Henry his peace of mind.
“He could forgive his sons, but not his
wife; that was too deep a wound to heal. He tried to mend fences with the lads,
to no avail. They were bitter that he continued to hold their mother prisoner,
Richard most of all, and infuriated that he continued to refuse to delegate
authority to them. And because he could no longer trust them, he tried to bribe
or coerce them into staying loyal. It was an utter failure. Hal died in
rebellion, repenting when it was too late, when he was on his deathbed. Hal’s
death broke his father’s heart,” Will said huskily, for he, too, had loved Hal,
so beguiling and good-hearted and utterly irresponsible.
“What of the other brothers?” Isabel
prompted. “After Hal died, why did the king favor John? Most men pay little
heed to younger sons. Why did Henry risk so much for John Lackland’s sake?”
“John Lackland….that was part of the
problem, lass. Hal was to be king. Richard was to inherit his mother Eleanor’s
duchy of
and Geoffrey was betrothed as a lad to Constance, the Duchess of Brittany. When
John was born, there was little left for him, hence his father’s joking title,
Lackland. But Henry was bound and determined to provide for John, too. So when
Hal died and Richard became the heir-apparent, Henry wanted him to yield up
needed the duchy now that he was to inherit an empire:
and
Richard did not see it that way, though,” Will said, smiling grimly at the vast
understatement.
Isabel was still listening raptly and he
stifled another yawn before resuming. “Henry made the same mistake with
Geoffrey, withholding a large portion of his wife’s Breton inheritance as
leverage for Geoffrey’s good behavior. He only succeeded in driving Geoffrey
into rebellion, too, and he’d allied himself with the French king when he was
killed in a tournament outside
“That left Richard and John, and because
Henry stubbornly refused to publicly pro-claim Richard as his heir, Richard
began to suspect that his father meant to bypass him in favor of John, a
flickering flame that the French king was all too eager to fan into a roaring
fire. It eventually came to war. By then Henry was ailing and did not want to
fight his own son. But Richard no longer believed in his peace overtures, and
the result was that shaming surrender at Columbieres. But the worst was still
to come. Seeing that his father was losing, John abandoned him and made a private
peace with Richard and King Philippe.”
Will fell silent, for so long that Isabel
feared he would not continue. After a few moments, though, he said softly, “It
can be argued that Hal and Geoffrey and Richard all had genuine grievances. But
John….John abandoned his dying father to save his own skin and that was King
Henry’s true death blow.”
“I wonder if Chretian de Troyes has
thought of writing about the Angevins,” Isabel mused. “Of course he’d have to
change their names, but someone ought to suggest it to him. Do not stop now,
though, Will. Tell me about the queen. I was told you once saved her from
capture when you were a young knight, and when you were captured, she paid your
ransom. What is she like? When she was young, was she as beautiful as men say?
Why did she really rebel against Henry?”
Before she could say more, Will leaned
over and stopped her words with a kiss. “Not tonight, Isabel. Your aged,
elderly husband is desperate for sleep. I will right gladly satisfy your
curiosity about the royal family. It will have to wait, though.”
Isabel ducked her head to hide her pout.
She was disappointed that he was bringing this interesting conversation to an
end, but that was of minor moment. Her dismay was due to the fact that she was
wide awake, no more able to sleep than she was able to walk on water. What was
she to do whilst Will slept beside her? She could not very well bring a candle
and book to her wedding bed. The prospect of all those wakeful hours till dawn
was a daunting one, until she had an inspiration.
“Of course, Will,” she said demurely.
They’d thrown the sheet back for it was a humid August night, and she suddenly
pointed to a white welt of a scar that zigzagged along his inner thigh. “Oh,
what a dreadful wound! What happened, Will?” She was already reaching out,
caressing the path of that old injury, and soon got the response she’d been
hoping for. Admiring her husband’s swelling erection, she thought it was lovely
that men could be so easily aroused, even “aged, elderly” ones, and she glanced
up at him with an impish, triumphant grin. “It seems you are not as tired as
you thought, my lord husband.”
“No, it seems I am not,” he agreed, and
pulled her down on top of him. He’d have to do penance for this, as the Church
considered any position in which the woman was not under the man to be
unnatural and thus sinful. But he needed to ease his injured leg by letting his
bride do some of the work, an innovation Isabel was quite happy to embrace, and
their wedding night came to a very satisfying end for the Marshal and his young
wife.
* *
* * *
September 4, 2012
Thank you for a wonderful story! Thank You
Sharon, thank you for Henry, Eleanor and their unruly sons’ story in a nutshell:-) I have to say that in Elizabeth Chadwick’s Greatest Knight not a single word is uttered on William and Isabel’s wedding… day:-)
I’m most grateful to you for your kind words concerning young Henry’s website. It’s a great honour and I’m sure Hal appreciates it just as I do. Thank you so much.
If I could travel back in time Hal would be my first choice, of course, but 3 September 1189 was first and foremost Richard’s Big Day, that’s why I wrote I would like to find myself among the guests attending his coronation. I knew that the Marshals, both William and John played the important roles during the ceremony, that’s why I wrote I would like to meet them and ask them a few questions.
Joan, I remember the exchange of our ideas, too. You have chosen Llewelyn, as far as I can recall, and Ken has chosen Edward I. You have drawn such an enchanting image before my eyes: me immortalized by Sharon in her books. There is only one tiny detail that keeps bothering me: who would I be in the tempestuous story? Hope not Hal’s wet nurse???
Yes, I know, I have mentioned a certain lady spending the most wonderful evening of her life in the company of a certain Young King listening to the latest lay by Marie de France, but one can never be sure. I’m afraid I would end up in far less glamorous surroundings:-)
P.S. Shakespeare & CO. is indeed a wonderful book!
I would forget, the meeting between William and Richard, shortly after Henry’s death is definitely my favourite story concerning them both. I loved the very scene in Devil’s Brood, but- I do admit- I was a little bit disappointed when Richard did not say ‘By the Legs of God!’ in it. Not even once:-)
Sharon, mine is a somewhat different telling – which is as it should be, but I am glad that we agree in the similarities of character. It’s good too that you are able to put the out-take to some use. You must have put quite an amount of work into it. 🙂
Thanks for sharing this, oh how wonderful, I am now running late for work ,for I could not stop reading, and I could not wait. So glad you have shared it.
Sigh…..sigh…..& sigh again! I think you should print a special mini edition, Sharon, with just this prologue—it is a story unto itself, which is an amazing feat in itself, & perfect! And we’d all buy it! In fact we’d buy tons of copies as stocking stuffers (wrapped in red silk) for all our romantic friends. That gorgeous scene put me in mind of Llewelyn & Joanna & some of their exquisite moments (but goodness me, how many fantasy men can a girl handle?!?) I love her “Oh, my”. This gem cannot be left to collect dust!
Oh Kasia, too funny! But no, I had a much more glamorous picture. It would definitely involve rustling silks, fluttering fan, & quill & notebook safely hidden among the folds of your skirts (for your purposes). And you would be totally enraptured with the brilliance of Hal’s court. But the rest would up to Sharon.
Thanks for posting this! It’s wonderful to see another authors take on characters I have grown to love as I’ve spent quite a bit of time with William and Isabel. Thank you!
Brilliant! Love it.
On a completely different topic, I have become fascinated with Hubert de Burgh. If I ever write a book, I hope I can write about him. I like the idea of dramatizing a sea battle! The real reason is that William could sneak into that story too.
Thank you for posting this! I love your writing and I can hardly wait for your next book!
God love Isabel’s assumption she was lucky to bed an older man. I did laugh.
God love Isabel’s assumption she was lucky to bed an older man. I did laugh.
I am so pleased that you all like it. One of the many reasons why I am looking forward to completing Ransom is that then I’ll finally be able to read The Greatest Knight and The Scarlet Lion, Elizabeth. I’m not surprised to learn we were on the same page here, for I think our characterization of most of the major characters were similar in your Lady of the English and my When Christ and His Saints Slept. Which makes sense, of course, since we drew upon the same sources!
Today’s Facebook Note.
On September 5th, 1201, Constance, Duchess of Brittany died at Nantes. Constance was, of course, Geoffrey’s wife, Arthur’s mother. After Geoffrey’s untimely death in a French tournament, her father-in-law, Henry II, compelled her to wed the Earl of Chester. It proved to be a very unhappy union for both parties, and even included a period in which Constance was held prisoner by her husband. They annulled the marriage in 1199 and she then wed Guy de Thourars, younger brother of the Viscount of Thouars. She seems to have found happiness in this third marriage; I certainly like to think so. But this marriage also led to her own death at age 40. It is sometimes said that she died of leprosy, but that is not believed by most Breton scholars. She had a daughter, Alix, in 1200, and twin daughters, Margaret and Catherine, in 1201, so it is far more likely that she died as a result of this last childbirth, which was all too common in the MA, especially when a woman had reached Constance’s age. I always thought it was a blessing that Constance died when she did, for she was thus spared knowing the tragic fates of her children by Geoffrey; Eleanor would be held as a prisoner by John and then his son, Henry IIII, for more than forty years, and Arthur was widely believed by his contemporaries and by subsequent historians to have been murdered while in his uncle John’s custody.
On September 5th, 1538, Henry VIII’s last wife, Katherine Parr, died. While Anne Boleyn naturally attracts the lion’s share of attention, Katherine was a very interesting woman in her own right, intelligent, attractive, cultured, and kind-hearted. Born in 1512, she made her first marriage in 1529 at age 17. He died in 1533 and she then wed John Neville, Baron Latimer, who died in March of 1543. The young widow was smitten with the dashing, dangerous Thomas Seymour and wanted to marry him, but she had the bad luck to catch the attention of Henry VIIII. In a letter she later wrote to Seymour, she confessed that he was the one she’d hoped to wed, but her family had convinced her it was God’s Will that she wed the king. Refusal was probably not an option under the circumstances.
She wed Henry in July of 1543 and at once did her best to befriend his children, with considerable success; she also used her influence with Henry to keep both Mary and Elizabeth in the line of succession. But she made enemies at court and the Bishop of Winchester, Stephen Gardiner, sought to turn Henry against her, accusing her of heresy. Henry was persuaded to issue a warrant for her arrest—I suppose by then it had become a habit to send his wives to the Tower. Fortunately for Katherine, she was warned about the warrant by one of Henry’s doctors and took to her bed, giving out that she was gravely ill. When Henry came to see her, she told him that she’d sickened from fear that she had displeased him. When he reprimanded her for having dared to dispute his views, she assured him that she’d argued with him about religion only to distract him from his own ailments. Henry bought it and withdrew the warrant. Being married to this man must have been such fun.
Henry died in January of 1457 and Katherine was finally free to follow her heart, but with tragic results. She and Thomas Seymour became lovers and were secretly married in May of 1547; this marriage unfortunately alienated her stepson, the young king, Edward. Katherine had invited Elizabeth and Jane Grey to join her household, and after she unexpectedly became pregnant—after three marriages without children—Thomas Seymour turned his eye and his practiced charm upon the thirteen year old Elizabeth. The resulting scandal—rumors circulating that he’d seduced Elizabeth—caused Katherine to send the girl away. She seems to have genuinely cared for Elizabeth—as she did for her husband—so her pregnancy could not have been a happy time for her. She gave birth to a daughter, named after Mary Tudor, on August 30th, 1548, but she contracted what they called childbed fever (Puerperal Fever) and died on September 5th, 1548; this was the same illness that had claimed Henry VIII’s third wife, Jane Seymour. Katherine was only 36, and I find her story to be such a sad one.
Sharon, I have also found out that September 5th, 1101 proved to be a disastrous day for Eleanor’s famous (or infamous) grandfather, Duke William IX ‘Troubadour’. On this day the Turks annihilated his entire army near the town of Heraclea in Asia Minor. William managed to flee with a few survivors. Every cloud has a silver lining though, and after his defeat William found asylum at the court of Antioch where he familiarized himself with the exotic Moorish songs that were to have such a great inpact on his own poetry.
There is one more anniversary, important to me, because it concerns a figure strictly connected with Hal, namely William I of Scotland. On 5 September 1186 he married Ermengarde de Beaumont, the daughter of the lesser nobleman from Maine, a somehow forced union, arranged for William by Henry II. William had aimed higher when he had asked Henry for permission to marry Matilda and Henry the Lion’s daughter, Henry’s grandaughter. He had been flatly refused. And although Henry paid for wedding celebrations at Woodstock, and returned two of William’s castles taken from him after the unfortunate Great Revolt, the Scottish king felt slighted.
Thanks, Kasia. But your source is wrong about Henry’s grandddaughter and William the Lion of Scotland. Henry was quite willing to see her wed to the Scots king, but the Pope refused to give them a dispensation. So Henry then offered his kinswoman, Ermengarde, as a bride to try to make it up to William. I don’t remember his kinship to the new bride, but it was probably rather distant.
I have to correct to typos in the above note. I really have to stop doing these when my brain is half-asleep. Proof-reading doesn’t help since the brain sees what it expects to see. Anyway, Katherine Parr died in 1548, not 1538, and Henry died in 1547, not 1457!
Sharon, a very interesting post. This time I actually Tsk’d out loud! The women of the MA really had to muster all the wiles & cunning possible, in hopes of trying to keep one step ahead of their tormentors.
My source is actually a native Scot and no friend to Henry, judging by his biographical notes on David I and his grandsons:-) This time I knew the case only from Scottish perspective, an utter sin on my part, this one-sided outlook of mine. I always try to check the facts from all possibles points of view, esp. when Hal is concerned:-)
As for Henry VIII’s sixth queen, if I were to choose the bravest woman in history, Katherine would certainly get my vote:-)
I agree with you about Katherine, Kasia. I’ve an interesting story about the Scots and Richard’s nephew Otto, who was, of course, Richenza’s brother; I still kept her German name in my books since I already had a surfeit of Matildas. I will try to remember to post it here later today.
Meanwhile, here is today’s Facebook Note.
Nothing of medieval importance happened on September 6th. I couldn’t even find anything relating to those notorious party-crashers, the Tudors. So I can take this opportunity to recommend a favorite website. Here is the link. http://www.allbookstores.com/
It is the easiest way to compare prices for books. Now you can go on your own to check out the various on-line bookshops—the Amazon websites, Alibris, ABE Books, etc. But this site allows you to do it all in one stop. Just type in the title of the book you are looking for and hit the compare prices. You will then be presented with a list of all of the available copies of the book, with their prices. Pick the one you want and click Buy it; you’ll then be taken to the specific website. It couldn’t be easier and it has saved me a fair amount of money; of course I am usually searching for long out-of-print books dealing with medieval matters. But I tested it on Hilary Mantel’s Bring up the Bodies and the prices ranged from $10 to $21. Books that can be rented are also included in the comparison list. Since I am always trying to lure everyone into book bankruptcy with me, it only seemed fair to pass on a way to save money for a change.
My friend Sharon Usden gave me very sad news this morning. The multi-talented Owaine Phyfe died yesterday of pancreatic cancer. Owaine was a wonderful musician, singer,and composer, who spoke Welsh as his second language and formed a record
company dedicated to medieval and Renaissance music . I never got to meet him, but he contacted me after I’d raved about his music on Facebook. The world is a darker place now that his light has gone out. I always thought the Lionheart would have enjoyed Owaine’s rendition of his prison lament, and I like to think that they can perform it together now. Here is a link to YouTube and Owaine singing Richard’s song, Ja Nus Hons Pris http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RVRjmTdM4c8&feature=related
Sharon, I’m looking forward to reading the story about Otto and the Scots. I have a soft spot for Otto, just like for his uncle, Hal:-)
I truly do not understand what was wrong with “Richenza”. I like the name. Not at all too German-sounding, at least when I’m concerned:-) I like the scene in Devil’s Brood when Henry asks Matilda whether Richenza has already chosen a new name for herself. The amiable conversation ends up with quarrel over Eleanor and her absence, with Henry and Eleanor’s unruly sons unanimously defending their mother. At least in this very matter they turn out to be unanimous.
I’m back once more. Sharon, that was an amazing scene, and I’m so glad we got to see it. It was quite an elegant way to recap previous events. I hope we see more of William and Isabelle in A King’s Ransom, and I second Kasia’s anticipation towards the story about Otto.
Today, many things happened: Geoffrey V ‘le bel’ of Anjou died, making Henry Count of Anjou. Richard won the Battle of Arsuf. Frederick II landed at the Holy Land, beginning the successful 6th crusade, despite being doubly excommunicated. And lastly, that favorite of the Tudor monarchs, Elizabeth I, was born.
Thanks, Koby; I’m glad you liked it.
I’ve had so many typos on my Facebook notes lately–due mainly to the fact that my brain wakes up later than the rest of my body–that I’ve decided to type them up the night before to see if this resolves the problem. So here is today’s Facebook Note, hopefully typo-free.
Several significant happenings on this day, unlike yesterday’s historical black hole. On September 7, 1151, Geoffrey, Count of Anjou, husband to the Empress Maude and father of the future Henry II, died unexpectedly on his way home from a meeting with the French king in Paris. He was only 38. During the Paris conference, Geoffrey had crossed verbal swords with Bernard, the Abbot of Clairvaux, who would later be canonized by the Church. Bernard was convinced that his views and God’s views were always one and the same and he’d been very unhappy with Geoffrey’s sardonic skepticism about that. He foresaw Geoffrey’s death within a month unless he repented of his manifold sins and when Geoffrey did die within that time, I am sure that many were very impressed. There is no evidence that Henry was, though. Geoffrey had gone swimming in a nearby river to cool off on a hot day and caught a chill. Henry, ever the pragmatist, seems to have seen that as a more likely cause-and-effect than Bernard’s ominous prediction. The evidence indicates that Henry had an excellent relationship with Geoffrey and I always found it very sad that he managed to alienate all of his own sons. If only he’d taken Geoffrey as a role model. Men rarely relinquished power in the MA; Henry certainly never did. But Geoffrey won Normandy by his sword and yet he then handed it all over to Henry, who was then just 17.
Also on September 7, 1191, Henry’s son Richard won a decisive victory against Saladin at Arsuf. Here is a link to a very good description of the battle. Or you can always read or re-read Lionheart! http://www.militaryhistoryonline.com/crusades/articles/arsuf.aspx
And on September 7, 1533, Anne Boleyn gave birth to a daughter, named Elizabeth after Henry’s mother. At the time, her birth was seen as a disappointment, a mere girl instead of the son that Henry so desperately wanted. It has been argued that Anne’s downfall began on this date and indeed, she faced the executioner at the Tower less than three years later. There is no doubt that little Elizabeth was deeply scarred by her mother’s murder—for murder it was. There is also no doubt that she proved herself to be one of England’s greatest monarchs. There is no evidence, though, that Henry had any appreciation of irony.
Loved, loved, loved the “prologue.” It really should be a kindle singlet. Not only will many, if not all of your fans buy it, but I bet it will bring you new fans. I’ll help–really.
Thank you, Joan. You are such a good friend–to Richard and to me! I’ll be in touch as soon as I get Richard safely out of Germany. Eleanor has arrived with the hostages and the money, only to find Heinrich pulling an 11th hour doublecross.
Thank you, Joan. You are such a good friend–to Richard and to me! I’ll be in touch as soon as I get Richard safely out of Germany. Eleanor has arrived with the hostages and the money, only to find Heinrich pulling an 11th hour doublecross.
Your discarded Prologue was superbly conceived and written, as usual. I expect I will file it with my preview copy of the Prologue that was actually published with Lionheart.
Thanks, Malcolm.
Today’s Facebook Note about an eventful September 8th.
Another busy history date. On September 8th, 70 AD, Jerusalem was sacked by the Romans and the Second Temple destroyed. Alice Hoffman’s magnificent novel, The Dovekeepers, deals with this episode as well as the siege at Masada.
On September 8th, 1157, Eleanor gave birth to her sixth child—Richard–who would be her favorite son and who would become, like her, a legend in his own lifetime. Of the eight children that she bore Henry, this was the only time that he was on hand for one of the births. Richard was the third son that she’d given Henry in the first five years of their marriage and I am sure the French king felt as if she were pouring salt into his wounds since he’d divorced her for her “failure” to give him a male heir.
And on September 8, 1560, Amy Robsart, the 28 year old unwanted wife of Robert Dudley, Elizabeth’s favorite, was found dead at the bottom of the stairs in her country house. The resulting scandal kept Elizabeth from marrying her “Robin,” if indeed she’d ever considered it, and he found himself convicted in the court of public opinion. Amy’s mysterious death continues to intrigue people even today. The various theories include accident, suicide, murder, either by Dudley or others, or breast cancer which resulted in bones brittle enough to break in such a fall. We’ll never know for sure. But most historians today do not believe Dudley was responsible, concluding that he could not have been so foolish when he’d have known he’d be blamed. I happen to agree with this. However, I can’t help wondering why historians don’t apply this rational approach to Richard III. If he had his nephews murdered to eliminate them as a threat to his throne, it would be essential that people know they were dead, and their bodies would have been displayed, with the news that they’d sadly died of sickness. (As Edward had the body of Henry VI displayed, after he’d died of “melancholy.”) It would make no sense whatsoever to kill the boys and then keep their deaths secret. Ah, well, at least Robert Dudley has benefited from the application of common sense to the study of history.
Lastly, on September 8th, 1601, John Shakespeare, father of you-know-who died. I add this because I am currently enjoying David Blixt’s Her Majesty’s Will, a spy spoof involving the young Will Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe, who blunder onto the famous plot to assassinate Elizabeth and place Mary Stuart on the English throne. It is great fun so far, reminding me a little of Brian Wainwright’s wonderful Ricardian-Tudor spoof, The Adventures of Alianore Audley.
Sharon, as for Richard’s arrival into this world, I do agree with you, Louis must have felt at least offended:-) No wonder Constance, his second wife, died after giving birth to yet another daughter. I think she considered the solution the best way to avoid Louis’s anger, and sharing Eleanor’s fate- a divorce.
Speaking of Richard and his birthday, I’m most grateful to his namesake and my friend, who let me post his text concerning Henry and Eleanor’s third son on the Young King’s website. If you are interested, click onto “Kasia” and enjoy the reading.
Well, it seems that in your busyness and great work, Kasia, you forgot two notable events, both in the history of Poland, one connected to my people: Today, the Statute of Kalisz was issued by the Duke of Poland, Boleslaus the Pious. It was one of the first documents of its kind in the Christian world, giving Jews substantial and unprecedented legal rights. And Warsaw fell without resistance to a small force under Charles X of Sweden during the Deluge, the first time it had ever fallen to a foreign invader.
Thanks, Koby for reminding me about the above-mentioned events. I have indeed forgotten about them:-) Presently I’m so busy that I can hardly find time for Hal and his website. I cannot tell when I will be able to finish my latest text ‘Master Mainard & CO.’ Anyway, it’s so nice to hear from you, especially now when you’re so busy yourself, because of your new job and new obligations. Have a nice Sunday:-)
I liked your friend’s article, Kasia. Great post, Koby.
On September 9th, 1087, an extraordinary man died, known to his contemporaries as William the Bastard and to history as William the Conqueror. He is a controversial figure and not one I find appealing, but there is no denying his remarkable achievements, gaining first the duchy of Normandy despite his illegitimacy, and eventually the crown of England. He died when his horse stumbled and he was thrown forward onto the pommel of his saddle. He was grossly overweight and when the pommel pierced his stomach, he suffered a wound that proved mortal to the sixty year old monarch. Even people unfamiliar with medieval history have heard the gruesome story of his burial. According to the Norman chronicler, Orderic Vitalis, the stone sarcophagus was too short and when men tried to force his bloated body into the tomb, “the swollen bowels burst and an intolerable stench” filled the cathedral, forcing mourners and clergy alike to flee the church. Not the most dignified of funerals for a man who definitely changed history.
On September 9th, 1513, King James IV of Scotland was slain at Flodden Field. This was said to be the largest battle fought between the armies of Scotland and England. Henry VIII was in France at the time and the hero of the day was Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey. Thomas was an important figure during the reigns of both Yorkist kings. Richard III conferred the earldom of Surrey upon him and his father was the “Jockey of Norfolk” warned on the day of Bosworth that “Dickon, thy master is bought and sold.” The senior Howard died with Richard and Thomas was wounded and spent three years in the Tower. He would eventually be pardoned, though, and in the course of his long and eventful life, he would serve four kings. He was given his father’s duchy of Norfolk as a reward for his victory at Flodden, dying at age 80. His son was a nastier piece of work, though—the uncle of Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, who abandoned them both to their fates to save his own skin; he still ended up in the Tower under sentence of death, saved only by the death of Henry VIII himself.
Fascinating, Sharon, and very good coverage of today’s events. I come late today after a long day at work, but I will add that today, the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest began, where the Germanic tribes under Arminius crushed some 3 Roman Legions. Mary Queen of Scots was crowned today, and Armand Jean du Plessis, better known as Cardinal Richelieu or ‘l’Éminence rouge’ (‘The Red Eminence’) was born today.
Thanks, Koby. But I also thought Cardinal Richelieu was known as the Grey Eminence?
Here is today’s Facebook Note–another long one.
There were two deaths on this date that matter to me and readers of my books. On September 10th, 1167, the Empress Maude, AKA Matilda, the mother of Henry II, died at the age of 65. She’d failed to claim the English crown for herself, but she’d done everything in her power to secure it for her eldest son, and she lived long enough to see it come to pass. She was buried in the abbey church of Bec Hellouin, in accordance with her wishes. The church was later destroyed by Napoleon, but her remains were discovered in 1846 and she was reburied at Rouen Cathedral. Her epitaph became famous for the lines: “Great by birth, greater by marriage, greatest in her offspring, here lies Matilda, the daughter, wife, and mother of Henry.” The epitaph was in Latin, which is why she was called Matilda, which was the Latin version of Maude. Notice how she expunged Geoffrey, Count of Anjou, from her marital history; the only husband she mentioned was the Holy Roman Emperor.
Maude’s death was not tragic, but the death of Henri, Count of Champagne, certainly was. Henri died at Acre on September 10th, 1197, in a freak accident, falling from a window of the royal palace. There are several accounts of his death; most of them speak of a window balcony or railing giving way. A servant died with him, having tried to save Henri as he fell. He was only thirty-one. He and Isabella, the Queen of Jerusalem, had three daughters during their five year marriage. He never did claim the title King of Jerusalem, continuing to call himself Count of Champagne until his untimely death.
Isabella was given little time to grieve, for a queen needed a strong king to defend their troubled kingdom. She soon wed Amaury de Lusignan, brother of the former King of Jerusalem, Guy de Lusignan. Guy and Amaury had moved to Cyprus after Richard arranged for Guy to buy it from the Templars, and after Guy died in 1194, Amaury managed to get the Holy Roman Emperor, Heinrich, to recognize him as King of Cyprus, a title Guy had not held. After his marriage to Isabella, Amaury became the King of Jerusalem, too. He died in 1205, apparently of food poisoning, and Isabella died a few days afterward. She was only thirty-three, and had been married four times, widowed three times, and had given birth to seven children by three of her husbands—a daughter with Conrad of Montferrat, who would become Queen of Jerusalem, three daughters with Henri, one of whom died young, and three children with Amaury, two daughters and a son, who died at age four, not long before the deaths of his parents.
Maria, Isabella’s daughter by Conrad died of childbed fever at age twenty, and her daughter’s story is even more tragic. Her name was either Isabella or Yolande, and she was wed against her will at age thirteen to Frederick II, the Holy Roman Emperor. Frederick would become known as Stupor Mundi—The Wonder of the World—and he was undoubtedly one of the most interesting and controversial monarchs of the Middle Ages. But he treated his women badly, with the possible exception of his first wife. He certainly was unkind to his thirteen year old bride, who wrote to her father on her honeymoon to complain of Frederick’s seduction of her ladies in waiting. We recently discussed medieval child brides and how the consummation of the marriage was normally not done till the bride was of a suitable age. Frederick did not wait, I am sorry to say, for they were wed in November of 1225, and she gave birth the following year to a daughter, who lived less than a year. Frederick kept her in seclusion in his Palermo harem, and she died in 1228, giving birth to a second child, a son; she was only sixteen. I have no desire whatsoever to write about Frederick, but I still hope to be able to write about Henri of Champagne.
Sharon,
I’m keeping my fingers and toes crossed in the hopes that you will be able to write more about Henri of Champagne. Anyone who studies the MA or reads your novels knows how fragile life can be so it shouldn’t come as a surprise when we learn that someone died well before their time but Henri’s early death seems to affect me more than others. I suppose this is due to your fabulous writing and the wonderful and vivid picture you painted of Henri in Lionheart. When the book ends, Henri has the rest of his life to look forward to and the potential to achieve great things. A few years later, his life is cut short in its prime due to a fluke accident and those of us who have come to love him are left pondering the mystery surrounding life and death.
Best of luck with the ongoing writing of Ransom.
Not to my knowledge, Sharon. I don’t see why it would be so, either: the name refers to his title as Cardinal (Eminence) and his manner of dress (Red, in Cardinal’s robes).
Also, a fascinating post about Isabella. Speaking of Cardinals, Thomas Wolsey was invested as one today, and the Battle of Pinkie Cleugh took place, where once again, the Scots lost horribly to the English. Among the over 6000 Scottish dead were Lord Fleming, Robert, Master of Graham, Robert, Master of Erskine, James, Master of Ogilvy, The Master of Avondale, The Master of Ruthven and many many more.
Koby, I was curious enough to see what I could find on-lline, and came upon this interesting article in Wikipedia. Apparently the term “grey eminence” actually referred to a friar who was Richelieu’s right-hand man. Here is a link. Isn’t the Internet fascinating?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89minence_grise
That’s quite interesting. Thanks for the link!
Doin g this early in the morning, since I’ll be too late afterwards: Today, Melisende, Queen of Jerusalem died. She was married to Fulk of Anjou (Geoffrey le Bel’s father) and the mother of Baldwin III, and in the words of William of Tyre “a very wise woman, fully experienced in almost all affairs of state business, who completely triumphed over the handicap of her sex so she could take charge of important affairs.” The Battle of Stirling Bridge also took place today, where the Scots under William Wallace defeated a larger English army
Good morning everyone! I just want to mention another important death. Shortly after 10th September- the exact date is unknown- of 1197 (so it must have been days after Henri of Champagne’s death), Hal’s queen Marguerite, aged 39, died at Acre. She was buried at Tyre, far from Hungary, and far from her native France (and Hal), her story being truly sad, at least this is how it seems to me from today’s perspective. I’m going to write about Marguerite on young Henry’s website, an essay entitled The Young King and his Pearl. Of course when I finish Master Mainard & CO. When will that be? I cannot tell:-)
Sharon, did Henri and his half-aunt meet at Acre? Perhaps you have come across any mention of such an event.
I meant it must have been only just a few days after Henri’s death:-), not days (sounds pretty longish).
Interesting that the deaths of Amaury de L, Isabella, & their only son all occurred
so close together.
I’ve been watching BBC’s The History of Scotland (a repeat) & really hope it’s factually accurate because it’s a great production, presented by the engaging Neil Oliver. Time will tell as I continue my own reading of this fascinating history.
I’m looking forward to The Young King and his Pearl, Kasia. (when you have the time)
For Americans, September 11th has only one meaning, a tragic one. It Is hard to believe eleven years have passed since that dreadful day, for the memories remain so raw and vivid and haunting.
On this date in history, in 1161, Melisende, the Queen of Jerusalem died at the age of fifty-six, some months after suffering a debilitating stroke. She was a remarkable woman, sadly not well known today, although I hope Sharan Newman’s biography will change that for the better. Queen of Jerusalem in her own right, she was the wife of Fulk of Anjou, who was the father of Count Geoffrey and grandfather of Henry II. She was also the grandmother of one of the characters in Lionheart, Isabella, the Queen of Jerusalem.
And on September 11, 1297, William Wallace won an unexpected victory over the English at the battle of Sterling Bridge. This event was dramatized in Mel Gibson’s Braveheart, a film that has probably driven countless historians and history lovers to drink.
Thanks Joan! I’m looking forward to it myself 🙂 Hopefully I will manage to type a few words before Christmas :-).
I’ve been reading about Marguerite’s second husband recently. It seems that I might have been in the wrong fearing that she didn’t find happiness in that union. Bela III’s court was a cultured one, and Bela himself was one of the greatest 12th-century rulers. Brilliant administrator and commander, and a handsome man:-) I’m reading he was 190 cm tall, a real giant concerning the MA standards.
P.S. BBC’s History of Scotland sounds really fascinating. Oh, dear! If only I had more time at hand:-)
Sharon, how do you do this? First collective mental breakdowns in Henry VI’s reign, now collective drinking after watching Braveheart! At least this is how I see it while chuckling to myself in front of my computer screen:-) Thank you!
I love your sense of humour, esp. the way you have used it in Devil’s Brood, the tavern scene, where Hal, Geoffrey and Richard meet to discuss their mother’s future as an abess! Just great! And the scene when John watches Geoff cheating to let their father win in the game of chess. Brilliant!
Sorry for the typo above! Of course I meant an ‘abbess’ not ‘abess’:-)
The BBC online today has an article about the possible discovery of Richard III’s grave in Leicester. Thought readers here might like to know.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-leicestershire-19561018
Thank you, Kasia! I seem to remember coming across something to the effect that Henri arranged his aunt’s funeral, which would mean she died before he did. I can’t remember the source now 🙁 It makes sense that he would have welcomed her warmly, for he was family-oriented and would have been quite familiar with her from his chilldhood and youth; she was close to his mother. Every thing I’ve read about her second husband, Bela, indicates he was an interesting man and I like to think she found some happiness with him. Her tragedy was that she had no children, her one son with Hal dying soon after birth. Fortunately for her, she did not have to produce an heir for Bela, so she was spared that feeling of failure. Medieval queens were taught that this was their most important duty and they had way of knowing it could be the fault of their husbands. There is evidence that even our confident Eleanor was concerned that she’d been unable to give Louis a son, at least earlier in their marriage. I think she was probably relieved when she gave birth to a second daughter, for by then she desperately wanted out of her marriage and a son would have trapped her with Louis for the rest of her life.
Today’s Facebook Note.
Obviously the most significant event to occur on September 12th was the birth of my friend, Stephanie Churchill Ling. But there were a few happenings of lesser importance.
On September 12, 490 BC, the Greeks defeated the Persians at the Battle of Marathon. Our modern marathons were inspired by a legend that a Greek messenger ran the 25 miles from Marathon to Athens to gasp out the news of their victory and then dropped dead. Sadly, this may be just that, a legend—well, not so sad for the messenger, of course.
On September 13, 1213, Simon de Montfort (not “my” Simon, his notorious father) defeated the King of Aragon, Peter II, at the battle of Murat. Peter died on the field and with him died any chance of ending the Albigensian Crusade, so I see this as a very sad day. Peter was the son of a minor character in both Lionheart and A King’s Ransom, Richard’s friend, Alfonso VI, King of Aragon.
On September 13, 1369, Blanche, the Duchess of Lancaster, died at the age of 23. Blanche was the wife of John of Gaunt and the mother of the first Lancastrian king, Henry IV. John was devastated by her death, but in time he would find consolation in the arms of Katherine Swynford. I’d given serious consideration to writing of John of Gaunt at one time, but I eventually concluded that his life could not easily be condensed into a fictional format. In Anya Seton’s wonderful novel, Katherine, he does not have the starring role and that makes all the difference. I do plan to give him some time on stage when I write about Owain Glyn Dwr, though. For the few who have not read Katherine, I recommend you remedy that ASAP.
And for the romantics in the group, I give you this. On September 12, 1846, Elizabeth Barrett eloped with Robert Browning, a very brave act for a young woman in those days. If they did not live happily ever after, I do not want to know about it.
Happy Birthday, Stephanie.
Indeed, Sharon, a happy birthday to Stephanie. And a sad day because of the Battle of Muret – it is said Raymond (of Toulouse) advised his brother-in-law Peter to take a defensive position and use missiles to bring down the smaller crusader army, but he scorned this tactic as unknightly and dishonorable.
But another great Battle took place today, the Battle of Vienna, where a European Confederation under Jan III Sobieski, King of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth decisively defeated the Ottoman army besieging Vienna despite being outnumbered some 2-to-1, in just 3 hours. The decisive charge of the Polish Winged Hussars breaking the Ottoman army has gone into legend. As an eyewitness described it: ‘The hussars attacked the Godless Turks like angels from heaven’. The battle marked the historic end of the expansion of the Ottoman Empire into Europe. The newly discovered constellation Scutum (shield) was renamed Scutum Sobiescianum in honor of Jan III, the only constellation named for a non-astronomer. Pope Innocent XI commemorated his victory by extending the feast of the Holy Name of Mary, which until then had been celebrated solely in Spain and the Kingdom of Naples, to the universal Church, as Jan II entrusted his army to her protection before the battle; it is celebrated on 12 September. Jan III’s quote after the victory has gone down in history: “Venimus, Vidimus, Deus vincit” – “We came, We saw, God conquered”.
Sharon, thank you for the note on Elizabeth Barrett & Robert Browning—I agree & do not want to hear of any unhappiness in that union.
Sharon, in case you haven’t seen it, there’s a short video on youtube published Sep 12, 2012 by University Leicester, called The Search for King Richard 3rd—The Archeological Dig. In the notes below the video, there’s mention of a full-length docu coming up.
Thanks, Koby. 😉
Stephanie, better late than never, so: Happy Birthday!:-) How did you spend your birthday? I hope it was of the unforgettable kind. BTW, is there Kenneth Notorious Troublemaker John somewhere with you? I have to admit that I miss him and Othon. I’m very curious how they are both faring:-)
Koby, I have totally forgotten about Jan III Sobieski’s famous victory. Recently I’ve been so occupied elsewhere that I could hardly find any time for a certain young king I’m rather fond of:-) Anyway, IMHO, we should all be grateful to King Jan for saving Europe from the Turks. I highly recommend his love letters to his beloved wife Marysieńka (Marie). The couple’s correspondence went down in history as the model example of epistolary genre.
Sharon, it seems that this time Wikipedia is in the right, giving August/September as the approximate time of Marguerite’s death. I found the ‘shortly after 10th September’ information in the books concerning Bela and pilgrimages in general. Unfortunately it was some time ago and- how inexcusable- I did not write down the titles, planning to return to the reading later. I have returned to Bela recently, but have not been able to find the info.
Still, it’s so comforting that there was someone friendly and caring with her shortly before she died, and someone who later on took care of the funeral ceremony. BTW, did anyone bother to write about the meetings between Marguerite and her half-sister Marie? I know about the one concerning Marguerite’s dowry, where both Henry II and Philip Augustus were present as well, but any others? Probably, Philip Augustus’s coronation in 1179 and perhaps Goeffrey’s funeral in 1186. It makes sense unless Ralph of Diceto was in the right of course, claiming that she ‘returned to Paris with a great train on 24 August’. I will have to turn to French sources for info. Perhaps I will be able to find out more about Hal’s neglected Queen.
Oh, I would forget. Which is the right date of the conference between Trie and Gisors, the one concerning Marguerite’s dowry after Hal’s death. I’m asking because I have found different dates, namely 1185 and 1186.
A wonderful post, Koby! Kasia, chroniclers would have no reason to write about the great majority of visits between Marie and Marguerite. They rarely paid much heed to women, anyway. 🙁 The same is true for Marie and her half-brothers. She was obviously close to Richard and Geoffrey, and I think it very likely she had interactions with Hal, too, given that the geographical proximity and how often the young Angevins were at the French court in the1170s and 1180s. We have to remember that it is only by chance that we know the whereabouts of most medievals on any given day, and that even applies to kings, atlhough they are much easier to track. Those who witnessed charters of kings can be tracked this way, but aside from that or an occasional mention by a chronicler, we simply don’t know. For example, all the chroniclers, English and German, talk about how many visitors Richard had during his captivity, but we have the names of only a small number, usually those who just happened to witness one of Richard’s charters. That is also why we know of that fascinating chance meeting at Lodi between Eleanor and Heinrich. She witnessed one of his charters!
Today’s Facebook Note.
Well, on September 13th, 1475, Cesare Borgia was born, of the infamous Borgias, who have been enjoying some success on Showtime, with the incomparable Jeremy Irons as Daddy Borgia, who was the Pope in his spare time.
On September 13, 1521, William Cecil was born; he was, of course, Elizabeth Tudor’s right-hand man, and probably one of the very few men whom she trusted. He’s also been mentioned as an unlikely suspect in the murder of Amy Robsart; the theory goes that he took such drastic action to make sure Elizabeth would not marry Robert Dudley. I can’t see this myself; he was a very cautious man and murder is anything but. If I had any evidence at all to offer, I’d suggest Elizabeth’s spy master, Francis Walsingham, as temperamentally more suited for such dark deeds. But since I don’t, I won’t.
And on September 13, 1592, Philip II of Spain died, Mary’s reluctant husband, who was apparently nicely played by Elizabeth during those years when her life balanced on the edge of an executioner’s axe. Philip always struck me as rather bloodless, but he does seem to have nursed a passionate grudge against Elizabeth, so maybe not.
Lastly, this should have been my own birthday, as I was due to make my grand entrance on September 13th. But never one for waiting, I made an early arrival on August 13th, just missing being popped into an incubator since I only weighed five pounds. I am totally in awe of what I see as a genuine medical miracle—that now they can save premature babies who are so tiny they can fit in the palm of a doctor’s hand.
Oh, and there was something happening in Leicester, I think—involving a car park? If they have truly found Richard III’s bones, that qualifies as a miracle, too. A car park is not the most dignified of burial grounds for a king, but it still beats being dumped into the river, as one of the legends had it. I want to go on record that if this does indeed prove to be Richard, he ought to be buried in York Minster, in the city he loved and where he was loved in return.
Sharon, thank you for your reply and forgive me my never-ending questions! I know you are very busy. How is Richard, BTW? It’s so fascinating to get the insight into your work in progress thanks to those occasional glimpses you share with us on your blog. We, I mean your readers, should all consider ourselves the lucky ones indeed:-)
P.S. As for Richard III and his earthly remains, it would be a miracle indeed!!!
Oops, a question again! See, I’m even not aware that I’m doing it:-)
Kenneth Notorious Troublemaker John here Kasia. As some people seem to be digging up the remains of the last of the Plantagenets from a car park in Leicester, I think it does behove one to remind one’s self what kind of king he was:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6JczvS1PL4&feature=share
Writers love questions about their work, Kasia, and medieval geeks love to talk history, so I always find it fun to answer your questions. Richard has finally escaped the clutches of that sociopath on the German throne. My last chapter ends with Richard and Eleanor about to land at Sandwich, after surviving an 11th hour double-cross by Heinrich. So now he can devote himself to payback!
Today’s Facebook Note.
On September 14, 1141, the forces of the Empress Maude were forced to flee Winchester. They’d besieged the city in late July and took the town, but the castle held out under the men of the Bishop of Winchester, Stephen’s unscrupulous brother, and on August 2nd,they set fire to their own city, for the bishop could play realpolitik with the best of them. Then Stephen’s queen, Matilda, and his mercenary captain, William de Ypres, arrived to lay siege to the Angevins, trapping them within the city. When food ran out, they decided to attempt to break through the queen’s lines. Brian Fitz Count managed to get Maude to safety by making a dangerous dash for freedom. Her brother Robert, the Earl of Gloucester, stayed behind to give her time to get away and he was captured. This was a devastating defeat for Maude, for she was forced to trade Stephen for Robert, her brother being irreplaceable. And so the war would drag on for another seven years, causing great suffering to the unhappy English people. Here are a few passages from When Christ and His Saints Slept.
* * *
The battle had swept past them, over the crest of Winchester Hill. They spurred their horses over the crest of Winchester Hill, glancing back to make sure Luke was following, and came upon the last bitter moments of the ill-fated seven week siege of Winchester. It ended there at Le Strete, when Robert’s struggling rear guard collided with a contingent of Flemings coming down the Wherwell Road, ended in one final flurry of doomed resistance, dying, and defeat. P. 320
* * *
Maude swallowed with a visible effort. “You are saying, then, that either Robert was captured or he was slain.”
Neither man spoke, but she had her answer in their silence, and she shut her eyes, squeezing back her tears. She would be able to weep soon, hidden by the darkness, riding through the night toward Devizes, but not now, not yet. She would leave Ludgershall dry-eyed and unbowed. She would not shame Robert with her tears. P. 323
* * *
Matilda was staring at him in shock. “Robert,” she breathed, so softly that only Cecily heard, and her eyes widened.
“My lady, is this man the Earl of Gloucester?”
“This man,” Matilda said unsteadily, “is Stephen’s salvation.” Her voice was muffled, midway between laughter and tears. Reaching for the Fleming’s hand, she held fast. “How good God is, blessed be His Name. And bless you, too, Willem, for you’ve given me back my husband!” p. 325
I posted above on the 13th but Sharon’s not letting me in! Sob!
Kasia, sorry that I did not respond earlier to your kind birthday wishes. Sharon hangs out in so many different places that I forgot to check back here again to offer my thanks. It was a delightful birthday. Had lunch with a very dear friend of mine and then when I returned home I found that the most beautiful bouquet of roses had been delivered while I was gone. I had a hard time opening them and then getting them into water because my hands were shaking so much from shock. It’s a good thing no one else was home at the time because I think I may have been babbling incoherently too.
And why, oh WHY do people always insist on pairing up Ken John and I???? He is innocent. I am innocent. The two nicest people in the world, really.
Stephanie, I’m happy to hear that you had such a wonderful birthday. As for you and Ken, and pairing you up, I guess it’s because the ‘naughty book’ affair, or rather, which I find more probable, because you truly are the two nicest people in the world:-)
Sharon, please let Ken in!
Kasia, that was all Ken’s fault. (pokes Ken in the ribs with her elbow) 🙂 🙂 🙂
Ken, I will see if I can sneak you in.
Today’s Facebook Note.
September 15th was a really slow medieval history day, so it seemed a good time to do a Ransom update. I am happy to report that Richard has finally escaped the clutches of the sociopathic Holy Roman emperor, having had to pay a ransom that would be computed in the trillions of dollars in current money, according to Ripley’s Believe it or Not. He also endured an eleventh hour double-cross by the shameless Heinrich, who actually whipped out letters from Philippe and John, offering a lot of money to continue Richard’s captivity, and inviting Richard to better it. Fortunately for Richard, he’d made some German friends in high places during his confinement, and they took advantage of the universal revulsion to Heinrich’s newest treachery. The Germans were already uneasy about imprisoning a crusader-king under the protection of the Church, and this was the final straw for them. They forced Heinrich to honor the terms of the agreement he’d struck with Richard for his release. Heinrich still had a nasty last-minute surprise for Richard, refusing to release him unless he did homage to the emperor for his kingdom. Eleanor persuaded her outraged son to agree, for she was a pragmatist and knew that it was meaningless since it was done under duress. To Richard, though, it was a source of great shame. The real Richard was set free on February 4th, 1194. My Richard won his freedom in mid-September, 2012. Below are three excerpts from this chapter.
This first is after Eleanor has convinced Richard that he has no choice but to do homage to Heinrich if that is the only way he can regain his freedom.
* * *
Turning away, Richard sat down in the closest chair, and the slump of his shoulders told Eleanor that she’d won. His pain tore at her heart, but his freedom mattered more. She hoped that in time, he’d come to see that, too. But even if he did not, she would have no regrets. There was nothing she would not have done to get her son out of Heinrich’s power—nothing.
* * *
After bidding farewell to the hostages and to Constance, who’d remained in the hall long after Heinrich had departed, Richard paused in the doorway to savor the moment, one in which he was no longer trailed by German guards. Glancing over his shoulder at Heinrich’s empress, he switched from French to the safer lenga romana. “I feel as if we are leaving one more hostage behind.” Looking back at Constance, Eleanor felt the same way.
* * *
Eleanor had forgotten one of Richard’s needs, something he found as essential as air. But Andre had not, and as Richard stood beside his new stallion, talking soothingly to accustom the animal to his presence before mounting, Andre approached with a large hemp sack. “I thought you might want this,” he said, opening the bag to reveal a scabbard of Spanish leather.
Sweeping his mantle back, Richard fastened the belt and then drew the sword from its scabbard. He saw at once that a superior bladesmith had labored to create this superb weapon, with a thirty inch blade and an enameled pommel, reminding him of the sword he’d been given by his mother upon his investiture as Duke of Aquitaine at age fifteen. He admired its balance, his eyes caressing that slender, steel blade as a lover might, and when he glanced toward his cousin, Andre thought that he finally looked like himself.
“Do you know how long it has been since I’ve held a sword in my hand, Andre?”
The other man shook his head.
“One year, six weeks, and three days.” For a moment, their eyes held, and then Richard sheathed his sword, swung up into the saddle, and gave the command to move out.
* * *
Kenneth N.T. John, that song is delightful! I have just shared it on Facebook, so all our Friends can enjoy it. A lot more truth there than Thomas and William ever gave us, following the Tudor line.
That was wonderful, Sharon, and may I say I find it delightful to read the interplay between Stephanie, Ken and Kasia. But you forgot that this is a very happy day, for that most wily and devious of archbishops, John Morton, died today.
Thank you Saint Sharon for letting me in! It is a good song Malcom isn’t it? Only took me about half an hour to write it. Stephanie, my au pairing, you’ve got really sharp elbows, that hurt!
Kasia, it is ever a wonder to me how people continue to misunderstand Stephanie and I. Let me say it loud and clear “WE ARE INNOCENT” of all these naughty goings on of which you speak. Innocently, and with only goodness and kindness in mind, we post on subjects close to every fan of Sharon’s heart. For example, Angelique cherie’s shopping for pointy bras in Rue St Honore; Stephanie’s 58th birthday and the roses (red) she received from me and my generous distribution of some of my French territories to Sharon and a few of her subjects. And, let’s not forget, I saved the Historical fiction species from certain annhiliation by building my Ark. Who could complain of this? (I don’t mean you Ms May: Intellectual Property Lawyer, who I esteem greatly and who has really great hair).
And nice shoes. Really nice shoes. And Ken, the fact that the roses were from you was supposed to be our little secret.
Sharon, great excerpts! The sentences are, as always, beautifully constructed. I love the snippet concerning Heinrich’s empress. I cannot wait to learn what’s behind the scenes of Heinrich’s marriage.
Stephanie and Ken, forgive me! It’s all out of jealousy! I wish one day someone paired up me and Ken… or me and Stephanie:-) Oh, Ken! The roses only rubbed salt into my already mortal wound.
Koby and Malcolm, it’s so nice to hear from you! Malcolm, I do agree, the video is delightful:-)
Well, it is good to be back, but I fear this will be the last you hear from me until Tuesday night. Today, Owain Glyndwr was declared Prince of Wales by his followers, and Henry V [VI] was born. More importantly to me, this evening, the two days of Rosh haShanah begins, or New Year. I give you all the traditional blessing: may we all have a good and sweet year, and may we all be written in the book of life, memory and forgiveness.
Koby, how could I have forgotten a day of such celebration as the one when Morton croaked??? I hope you have a wonderful Rosh Hashanah.
Ken, I am beginning to think you and Kasia and Stephanie should take this show on the road. And yes, Angelique can come, too. But I figure that for misstating Stephanie’s age by 20 years, you ought to have to do penance for that for two decades, at her beck and call. May God have mercy on your soul.
Today’s Facebook Note.
I want to wish my Jewish friends and readers a happy Rosh Hashanah. Now to the date’s more interesting events.
On September 16th, 1265, Henry III and his son, the future Edward I. made a limited peace with the surviving followers of Simon de Montfort, who’d died on August 4th at Evesham. That did not stop Henry from pushing through Parliament an edict giving the Crown the right to seize the lands of any man deemed an “accomplice” of the slain earl. So resistance would continue at Kenilworth Castle and on the Isle of Ely for another two years. “Others rallied to John d’Eyvill, hid themselves in the Fenlands, in the dark forests of Sherwood and Rutland, and here might well be found the genesis of the Robin Hood legends, those fire-lit tales of outlaw exploits, for they were reckless and sometimes gallant, these men known as “The Disinherited,” as “The Faithful.” Falls the Shadow, page 545.
On September 16th, 1387, Henry V was born. Because he was born at Monmouth Castle in Wales, he was sometimes called Henry of Monmouth. He was the son of the first Lancastrian king, Henry IV, the grandson of John of Gaunt, and the hero of Agincourt.
On September 16th, 1400, the followers of Owain Glyn Dwr proclaimed him Prince of Wales at Corwen, so this is an important date for those of us fascinated with Welsh history.
On September 16th, 14998, Tomas de Torquemada, the Grand Inquisitor of Spain, died. He was instrumental in convincing King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella to issue the Alhambra Decree, expelling all Jews from Spain. Ironically, he had Jewish ancestry himself; his grand-mother was a conversa. His name has become a byword for the terrors of the Inquisition.
And on September 16th, 1620, the little ship Mayflower sailed for the New World.
Never was much good at maths and I get condemned to two decades for it?How long did Richard stay in Purgatory? Only 33 years after all he did? Ok Stephanie ma cherie (Shh! Angelique cherie, I don’t really mean it – mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa (Ken beats breast, but not too hard because it hurts). Oh, and BTW, I’m Welsh so of course God will have mercy on my soul!
According to Roger of Wendover, Ken, Richard was hanging around Purgatory for 37 years. This is my all-time favorite medieval chronicler entry, even better than Ralph of Coggeshall’s green children in Kent.
Kasia, you are welcome to join our merry band any time. But it sure would be easier if you joined… oh, I don’t know…. Facebook??? 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 And Ken, what Sharon said: “you ought to have to do penance for that for two decades, at her beck and call.” You know I still love you though.
Perhaps it was Geoffrey who spent only 33 years in Purgatory.
That works for me, Malcolm!
Today’s Facebook Note.
September 17th, 1179 was the birthday of one of the most extraordinary women of the MA, Hildegard of Bingen. She was a Renaissance woman before her time—an abbess, a poet, a writer, a gifted composer, a healer, a philosopher, a mystic, and a saint. Mary Sharratt, author of the haunting Daughters of the Witching Hill, has written a novel about Hildegard, Illuminations, which will be published in the US on October 9th. I read the first few chapters of this novel in galley proofs and I was mesmerized by it. It was incredibly frustrating when I came to the end and knew I’d have a long wait to read the rest of Hildegard’s story—it was that good.
My friend Koby kindly reminded me that I forgot a significant death for September 15th. On this date in 1500, one of my least favorite historical figures died, John Morton, chancellor to Henry Tudor, subsequently Archbishop of Canterbury, and a man as deserving of the nickname “the universal spider” as Louis XI of France. When Richard III died at Bosworth, his reputation was at the mercy of Tudor and Morton, and we know how that turned out. Morton was also infamous for Morton’s Fork; when squeezing Tudor’s subjects for money, he argued that if someone lived frugally, that meant he must have money squirreled away and if he lived lavishly, that was proof he could afford to contribute to the Crown. I recently came upon a medieval chronicler’s comment that “In this year the pagan Saladin died and was buried in Hell.” I definitely would not have consigned Saladin to Hell, but I’d be happy to see Morton take his place.
Lastly, Romina was kind enough to post this link yesterday on one of my Facebook pages. It is a very funny article that argues in favor of giving Richard III a state funeral. I think that is an excellent idea—provided that we send the bill for it to those shameless souls who foisted The Tudors on an unsuspecting world. http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/news/danhodges/100181096/damn-it-lets-give-richard-iii-one-last-glorious-summer/
To quote from Roz in the movie Monster’s Inc., Ken, I am watching–always watching!
May, where are you lurking? I promise to buy you a really nice handbag if you’ll pardon Stephanie and I. You’re not into Bling, I suppose?
Kasia, do you know that Sharon stayed for a while in Wales while researching ‘Here be Dragons’ and founded a convent near to where Joanna was buried at Beaumaris?
http://expertssearch.co.uk/detail-st-seirl-penman-844150.html
Apologies to all for a total brain malfunction this morning. I listed September 17th, 1179 as the birthday of the amazing Hildegard when it actually was the day she died. I can only assume I found it painful to think about her death!
Today’s Facebook Note.
We are going to have to postpone the Eleanor tour originally scheduled for next September. The Abbaye Royale Hotel, located on the actual abbey grounds at Fontevrault, has closed for extensive renovations. Staying there was an integral part of the tour and was considered a highlight of the trip by those who participated in It.; there was something magical about staying on the abbey grounds, as if we were guests at a medieval abbey—the hotel itself was the abbey’s lazar house. So we reluctantly concluded that we had no choice except to reschedule the tour for the spring of 2014.
The travel agency wanted me to consider doing another tour next September in lieu of the postponed Eleanor tour. I am not yet able to do a tour of my beloved Wales, so at first I was at a loss. But then I realized that this would be the ideal time to do a Ricardian tour—with a bit of luck, we could even get to visit Richard’s tomb! (Yes, I am convinced that a genuine miracle occurred in that Leicester car-park and they have found their man.)
The travel agency is very keen on the idea, so we are giving serious consideration to doing a tour of the places that are most closely associated with Richard. That would obviously include Middleham Castle, the city of York, Ludlow Castle, Tewkesbury, Windsor Castle, the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey (I believe Richard’s Crosby Hall is no longer open to the public) and the battlefield at Bosworth. The first step is gauging the measure of interest in such a tour. So…what do you all think? Any interest?
And on the history front, Louis VII of France died on September 18, 1180, at age sixty, months after suffering a debilitating stroke. Poor Louis. I wonder how he’d react to be told that he is remembered today mainly as the first husband of Eleanor of Aquitaine.
Sharon, I’m sure Louis would suffer one more stroke, right on the spot:-)
See you at Bosworth then:-)
P.S. After what I have read and heard (on the Polish radio, as well), deep in my heart (and my mind), I’m convinced it is Richard. My family is getting tired- I can sense it, I can see it- with my never ending chatter about Richard, his life story, family connections, how maligned he has always been, etc. Fortunately I’ve been blessed with a good husband, of well-enduring, almost angelic patience. I’m not so sure about the rest of my kin, though:-)
Kasia, it’s great to hear your husband puts up with it. Mine would not be afraid to let his eyes glaze over. He has no problems relating a day’s worth of detail about his legal career (yawn), but let’s not discuss history. 🙂
Today’s Facebook Note.
On September 19th, 1356, the battle of Poitiers was fought between the forces of the Black Prince and the French king, John II. Despite being greatly outnumbered, the Black Prince won the victory and John was captured. He was treated far better than another captive king, Richard I; taken to England, he was allowed to travel and lived in a regal style, as the records show his expenditures for horses, hawks, dogs, etc. His ransom was set at a vast three million crowns and after leaving his son, Louis, as a hostage in his place, he was allowed to return to France to raise the ransom in 1360. But when he subsequently learned that Louis had escaped, he was disturbed, feeling that his honor had been damaged by this action. Despite the heated protests of his lords, he insisted upon returning voluntarily to England to be held as a hostage until the ransom was paid. He said it was a matter of honor and good faith, while his enemies claimed that he’d really done it because he enjoyed a comfortable life style in England and was weary of dealing with his contentious French barons. Whatever his reasons for this dramatic action, he fell suddenly ill a few months after his return to England and died in April 1364, at age 45. His body was returned to France and he was buried at St Denis. Poitiers is, of course, one of the famous battles of the One Hundred Years War.
Kenneth, I surrender! I will probably make a fool of myself, but, with my defences down, I’m asking whether it’s true- I mean the convent near Joanna’a resting place- or is it only a place in the land of yours, in the one I was promised a lion’s share of as well???
Stephanie, we have to meet one day and discuss our husbands, their virtues and flaws:-)
I’m reading that today Mr George R.R. Martin celebrates his birthday:-) Perhaps I will try his Song of Ice and Fire one day. Who knows?
Kasia, I join you in wishing happy birthday to George R.R. Martin, who is, I hope, working away diligently upon the next book in the Ice and Fire series.
Today’s Facebook Note.
On September 20th, 1187, The Sultan of Egypt, better known to posterity as Saladin, began the siege of Jerusalem. It would last for 13 days, Jerusalem yielding to him on October 2nd after Balian d’Ibelin had persuaded him to allow the city to surrender peacefully rather than be taken by storm, as Saladin had intended. Balian accomplished this by promising to ransom the citizens, paid for with the money that Henry II had given in support of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, and by threatening to destroy all of the Muslim holy places in the city if they had nothing to lose. This, by the way, is the only thing that the epic but inaccurate film, Kingdom of Heaven, got right in its fanciful depiction of Balian’s life. He was indeed the savior of Jerusalem. He was not, however, an illegitimate blacksmith living in France or the lover of Queen Sybilla. I am a bit protective of Balian and I hope to do him justice in my next novel, The Land Beyond the Sea, which has now gotten the green light from my publisher.
So once A King’s Ransom is handed over to my editor’s tender mercies, I will be returning to the Holy Land with Balian as my guide. He will be sharing center stage with Henri, the young Count of Champagne, which means that the Angevins are likely to infiltrate this book, too. Henri’s mother was close to her half-brothers, Hal, Geoffrey, and Richard, and knowing them as I do, they are sure to crash the party whenever I do a scene with Henri back in Champagne. And of course in the part of the book that deals with the Third Crusade, Henri’s Uncle Richard will probably make a few appearances. Aside from Balian and Henri, the cast will also include Saladin, his brother al-Malik al-Adil, the ambitious adventurer Conrad of Montferrat, the tragic young leper king, Baldwin, and three Queens of Jerusalem—Baldwin’s sisters Sybilla and Isabella and Balian’s wife Maria.
September 20th is also the birthday of Henry Tudor and Elizabeth of York’s son Arthur, born in 1486. It has sometimes been suggested that the name Richard is an unlucky one for an English king, since the three men who bore it all died prematurely and violently. But Arthur is not a lucky name, either. In 1202, Arthur of Brittany was captured by his uncle John at Mirebeau and was never seen alive again. And Arthur Tudor would also die young, a death that would drastically change English history.
Kasia, that sounds wonderful. I may have to charter Ken’s Ark, however.
I’m glad you asked first Kasia. I went to the site Ken posted & still think he’s joshing, yet wondering….. Though I have no doubt about your extraordinary generosity, Sharon, it’s the convent part I’m not sure about.
BTW, the book Tournament is even more fascinating than I expected! I’m now focused totally on it (I was into 5 books at once because I couldn’t decide which one to read first, but finally put a stop to that foolishness). I would also recommend it highly. Tournament by David Crouch—the wider significance of the tourney & loaded with interesting details.
Well, Ok. I don’t really know if Sharon founded her religious order near Beaumaris/Llanfaes or not. But you have to admit that Saint Seirl PENMAN is a bit of a clue! My Ark, just as soon as I fix the leaks, will be available for hire at 50,000 livres Tournois a week. Not sure if it will make it to Poland or not, but, hey. I’m willing to give it a go!
Joan, my inborn curiosity has won. As always:-) I just had to know, even at the cost of making a fool of myself.
I’m so glad you like Tournament. It’s wonderful, isn’t it? And the fact that such a serious and noted scholar as Dr David Crouch has taken Hal under his protective wings is even more heartening. The work is of great importance when it comes to redefining the role and importance of tournament as a social phenomenon. It sheds a completely new light on Hal’s active participating in and patronizing, the very two activities that won him only disregard and condemnation.
Kenneth, shall I call your latest ‘prank’ a proverbial last straw? You truly are a notorious troublemaker!!! Speaking of troubles, they are looming on the horizon, for my beloved husband (angelic by nature) is growing more and more suspicious of my constant and uncontrolled outbursts of laughter in front of the computer screen.
I do hope that you have made your Othon as mischievous as you are, at least at times:-)
And yes, Saint Seirl Penman sounds indeed like Sharon’s doing. Although, I have to agree with Joan that the ‘convent’ part has become food for thought to me, as well.
Stephanie, do charter Ken’s Ark!!! No matter how greedy Ken tries to sound, I’m sure he is going to join in and charter it for free.
I have returned once more. Today, Flavius Aetius ‘the last of the Romans’ and the ‘victor’ of the Battle of the Catalaunian Plains was assassinated, Edward II of England was also killed (or died, but probably killed, though not with a poker through the ass), Richard, Duke of York was born, Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor (and a host of other titles besides) died, and the Battle of Prestonpans took place, where the Jacobite Prince Charles Edward Stuart defeated the Hanoverian forces in about ten minutes.
Koby, as for Edward II’s death, Kathryn Warner wrote a fascinating four-part Kent’s Conspiracy to Free Edward 1330, in which she described the circumstances of Edward’s brother, Edmund of Woodstock, earl of Kent’s death after he had tried to free Edward, and here attention please, almost three years after the king’s funeral on 20 December 1327. Trust me, it’s a must-read!
Sharon, I will post a link to Kathryn’s blog, if you don’t mind.
Mental telepathy, Kasia. I’ve already included a link to Kathryn’s blog in today’s Facebook Note! Glad you could stop by, Koby. Ken, can’t you consider giving an ark rental discount to your faithful Facebook friends? I’m sure Othon would.
On September 21, 1327, Edward II is said to have died at Berkeley Castle. I phrase it that way because some historians do not believe Edward actually died on that date. I am not knowledgeable enough about Edward’s reign to have any hard and fast opinions about this. But Kathryn Warner probably knows more about Edward’s life than even Edward did, and she rejects this “official” account of his death. Here is a link to her website, the best place to go for anyone interested in finding out more about this unhappy king. http://edwardthesecond.blogspot.com/ I am very happy to report that the gruesome red-hot poker story has been discredited, so even if he did die on September 21, 1327, it was not in such a horrific, inhumane manner.
And on September 21, 1411, Richard, Duke of York, future husband to Cecily Neville and father of Edward IV and Richard III, was born. Unlike Edward II, there is no doubt whatsoever about his death; he was slain in the battle of Wakefield and his head, along with those of his seventeen year old son Edmund and his brother-in-law, the Earl of Salisbury, were mounted on Micklegate Bar in York. It is an eerie feeling to stand by Micklegate Bar today, looking up at the gate and imagining how it was for York’s son Edward, entering the city after his victory at Towton and seeing them impaled there.
But Angelique cherie wont. She has the costs of her Household to think of and the clergy just refused us a tenth. Typical! Will no-one rid me of this troublesome clergy?
Kasia, I was sure that Ken and I had an under the table agreement about fares, but perhaps I need to review the fine print of our contract (which might be hard to enforce since it was under the table.) The lovely May has her own Ark, so I could always buy her some handbags and shoes, hopefully working something out with her.
Good to see your return, Koby!
I agree Kasia & I didn’t realize the tournament was so important for so many reasons. And you would feel heartened by Dr. Crouch’s study, re your Hal. I also love his writing style, intelligent but not ponderous, in fact the opposite. Very enjoyable reading.
I really like Dr Crouch’s works, Joan, and recommend any of his books very highly.
On September 22nd, 1515, Henry VIII’s fourth queen, Anne of Cleaves, was born. I have always considered Anne to be the luckiest of his wives. It is true that Katherine of Aragon had some good years with him and seems to have been happy during those early years of their marriage, but once he was charmed by Anne Boleyn, there was nothing but great misery ahead for her. In the same way, Anne enjoyed some moments of triumph and happiness, but like Katherine, she would pay a very high price for them. Whether Jane Seymour was as ambitious as Anne but more subtle or whether she was a pawn of her powerful family, she did not have much time to savor her success. Silly little Catherine Howard was a minnow swimming with sharks. And Catherine Parr’s story was the saddest of the lot, at least IMHO, for she had not wanted to marry Henry and her years as queen were fraught with peril, with still more pain to follow once she was finally free of him. So by the process of elimination, that leaves Anne of Cleaves, Henry’s “dear sister,” who was fortunate enough to be spared Henry’s usual way of ending a marriage and who seems to have been treated well by Henry in appreciation for her cooperation. She was still denied what was the “normal” life for a woman in the 16th century, a family of her own, but she was very kind to Henry’s children and they were desperately in need of such affection and stability in their lives. My favorite film about the Tudor Bluebeard is the brilliant BBC series, The Six Wives of Henry VIIII. It was done decades ago, but has stood the test of time very well and is available on DVD. Anne’s episode is excellent, and it is impossible to watch it without feeling a surge of admiration for this level-headed, intelligent young woman. So Happy Birthday, Anne, the queen who checkmated a king.
Yes I’ll definitely carry on with his works, Sharon, but think I should postpone it for now. Yesterday I picked up 2 more books (on the sale table) at our Nat’l Gallery’s lovely little gift shop. With my right hand reaching & my left hand trying to put them back, I did, in the end, come away with 2—one is “Jane’s Fame—How Jane Austen conquered the World”—by Claire Harman & loving it!!
The DVD series above sounds great—don’t know what I’d do without BBC!
Lol, Joan; your fellow book-buying addicts understand this perfectly!
Today’s Facebook Note.
September 23rd, 1158 is the birthday of my personal favorite of the Devil’s Brood, Henry and Eleanor’s third surviving son, Geoffrey, Duke of Brittany. There was just a year between Geoffrey and Richard, which may have accounted for the constant friction between them. Geoffrey, of course, has gotten short shrift by historians as he was the only son not to wear a crown, and as a result, they tended to accept at face value the critical judgments passed on Geoffrey by the contemporary chroniclers. One historian even went so far to as to claim Geoffrey was motivated by “mindless malice.” It was Geoffrey’s bad luck that there were no Breton chroniclers to record his reign over the duchy or to put his actions in the proper perspective. When seen through a Breton prism, his conduct is far more comprehensible, if not always admirable. I have often recommended Dr Judith Everard’s excellent study of 12th century Brittany, Brittany and the Angevins, and I recommend it again for anyone wanting to understand Geoffrey’s career and the turbulent relationship between the Bretons and the English and French monarchs.
No one should doubt that the death of one man can exert a profound impact upon history. Richard’s carelessness at the siege of Chalus not only altered English history, it changed the course of German history and would bring untold miseries to the people of Languedoc because of the Albigensian Crusade. Perhaps Geoffrey’s death in that French tournament did not have such far-reaching consequences, but it is interesting to speculate what might have happened had Geoffrey not died so prematurely. My own belief is that there would not have been a King John and there would have been a King Arthur, for in a contest for the English crown between Geoffrey and John, my money would have been on Geoffrey. That is assuming, of course, that the trajectory of Richard’s life would remain the same, with him dying at Chalus without an heir of his body.
While this date is memorable to me because of Geoffrey, it is also the date of the battle of Blore Heath in 1459, the first major battle of the War of the Roses. I did not get to dramatize it in Sunne, unfortunately, for it was an unusual battle. Queen Marguerite had instructed Lord Audley to ambush a force led by the Yorkist commander, the Earl of Salisbury, brother to Cecily Neville and father of Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick; there is an unsubstantiated tradition that Marguerite was present at the battle. Although Salisbury was considerably outnumbered, he managed to prevail. Audley was slain and when they saw that victory was going to the Yorkists, five hundred Lancastrians switched sides in the midst of the battle and attacked their own, which helps to explain the paranoia of the Lancastrians at Barnet Heath, when in the confusion of the fog, the Earl of Oxford collided with the men led by John Neville. Here is a link to an excellent website devoted to the battle of Blore Heath for those who’d like to find out more about it. http://www.bloreheath.org/index.php
Uh,oh!! Dr. Judith Everard, you say. This study sounds like an important one though. What can I say, this is one of the great things about your blog, Sharon. And I’ve bookmarked the site you posted. Did I ever mention that you opened up a whole new chapter in my life? As you have for so many others.
Urgh, late once more, and this time by a full day. Well, better that than never. Yesterday was the Autumn Equinox, of course. Today, two great people were born: Octavian, better known as Augustus Caesar; Kublai Khan, who ruled the Mongol Empire at its greatest, from Siberia to Afghanistan. Also, Pope Calixtus II and Holy Roman Emperor Henry V agreed to the Concordat of Worms, ending the Investiture Controversy.
Joan, I think her book is the most important study of Breton history that I’ve ever read. She’d originally planned to do a biography of Geoffrey,but had to expand the scope of her project when she found that there was just not enough extant material about him to support a biography.
Today’s Facebook Note.
It seems to be “feast or famine” with my Today in Medieval History notes. September 24th was not just a slow day, it was a total non-starter. Well, in 1180, Manuel Comnenus, the Byzantine emperor (called the empire of the Greeks in Lionheart since “Byzantine” was coined later) died. He was a very important ruler in Byzantine history and he does have a tenuous connection to my books, for his young son wed Agnes, the even younger daughter of Eleanors former husband, Louis VII. Thankfully both Manuel and Louis were dead when the lives of these youngsters came to such grief—Overthrown in a palace coup, the boy was murdered and Agnes was compelled to wed his murderer.
But that is all I could come up with for September 24th in the MA. The date was the birthday, though, of a celebrated American novelist, F. Scott Fitzgerald, born on this date in 1896. He is best known for his novel The Great Gatsby, of course, and for his Paris sojourn in the 1920s with his wife Zelda and other expat writers, including Ernest Hemingway. A very talented writer, he was not as impressive when it came to social commentary. His claim that “There are no second acts in American life” could not be more off-base. We thrive on second acts here, and third and fourth acts. Although I have to say that the most awesome second act belongs to a former queen of France, Eleanor of Aquitaine, who not only gained another crown in her own second act but founded a dynasty that would last for 300 years. Okay….it took a bit of doing, but I managed to connect F. Scott Fitzgerald to the MA!
For beautiful May: “One day, there was this lawyer who had just bought a new car, and he was eager to show it off to his colleagues, when all of a sudden an eighteen wheeler came out of nowhere and took of the driver’s side door with him standing right there. “NOOO!” he screamed, because he knew that no matter how good a mechanic tried to fix it, it never would be the same. Finally, a cop came by, and the lawyer ran …up to him yelling. “MY JAGUAR DOOR WAS JUST RUINED BY SOME FOOLISH DRIVER!!!” he exclaimed. “Your a lawyer aren’t you?” asked the policeman. “Yes, I am, but what does this have to do with my car?!?!” the lawyer asked. “HA! Your lawyers are always so materialistic. All you care about is your possessions. I bet you didn’t even notice that your left arm is missing did you?” the cop said. The lawyer looked down
at his side and exclaimed “OHH **** MY ROLEX!”
Ken, that was hilarious! Thank you for sharing!
Stephanie, my ark is always free for my *friends* (that is, those who gift me with lovely bags and shoes)
Quite amusing, Ken. Today, William VIII of Aquitaine died, making William IX ‘the Troubadour’, Eleanor’s grandfather, the new Duke. Teh Battle of Stamford Bridge took place, with Harold Godwinson and the English defeating the Norse invaders under Harald Hardrada, making it the last Norse invasion of England. Both Hardrada and Tostig Godwinson, Harold’s brother (who fought with the Norse) died in the battle. The Battle of Nicopolis took place, where a European alliance of French, Hungarians, Venetians and several more suffered a devastating defeat to the Ottomans, due to the impetuosity of the French forces. Lastly, on sundown today the Day of Atonement begins. May we all be sealed in the Book of Life.
Ken, a new lawyer joke!
A word to the wise–you can never go wrong giving bribes–er, retainers–to my spectacular lawyer, May.
I will be thinking of you and my other Jewish friends on Yom Kippur, Koby.
Today’s Facebook Note
September 25, 1066 was the date of the highly significant battle of Stamford Bridge, in which the last Saxon king, Harold Godwinson, defeated a force led by the Norwegian king, Harald Hardraga, and the Saxon Harold’s brother Tostig. Harold marched his army an astonishing 180 miles in just four day to catch the Norwegians by surprise. In a very bloody and lengthy battle, both the Norwegian king and Tostig were slain on the field. It was a total triumph for Harold, but it may be one of the most costly victories in history, for three days later, a Norman force led by William the Bastard landed at Pevensey and Harold was forced to race his battered army south to repel this new invasion. Less than three weeks later, both armies met at Hastings and the history of England was forever changed. Here is a link to the battle of Stamford Bridge. http://www.britainexpress.com/History/battles/stamford-bridge.htm
I may be MIA for a while on Facebook as I am dealing with a double whammy. I managed to re-injure my back (sigh) which is limiting my computer time till my chiropractor can put Humpty Dumpty together again, and I am also dealing with a key Ransom chapter and can feel Richard’s hot breath on the back of my neck as he is very impatient to let payback begin.
Lastly, my condolences to Aaron Rodgers and the Green Bay Packers, whose mugging last night by the NFL “refs” may have been the most widely witnessed theft in all of human history.
Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement, began last night and I am thinking of all my Jewish friends and readers today.
And on September 26, 1087, William Rufus, the second son of William the Conqueror, AKA known as William the Bastard, was crowned King of England. William is said to have wanted to disinherit his eldest son Robert on his deathbed, but was persuaded instead to divide his domains, leaving England to William Rufus and Normandy to Robert. I have more to say about William’s sons, but have to go see my chiropractor, blessed be his name, soon, and will continue the post when I return.
I am going to be away from Facebook for a while and so you’ll all understand why, here is a description of Nottingham Castle in the twelfth century. It was perched on a sandstone cliff over a hundred feet above the River Leen. It had three separate baileys, separated by deep, dry moats. The Outer bailey was enclosed by a timber palisade, but thanks to Henry II, the middle and inner baileys were protected by sturdy stone walls, and the tower keep was on a rocky motte fifteen feet higher than its bailey. It was strongly garrisoned, and was too well provisioned to be starved into surrender. Clearly this was one formidable stronghold, and taking it will present quite a challenge, even for Richard. Wish us luck.
Today, Willain the Conqueror’s army finally set sail from the mouth of the Somme, beginning the Norman Conquest of England. Raymond VII, Count of Toulouse, Joanna of England and Raymond VI’s son died, and the Battle of Kircholm took place, where the Polish and Lithuanians defeated a Swedish army almost three times the size of theirs in about half an hour, with over half the Swedish army dying on the field.
Thanks, Koby!
Today, William the Conqueror landed in Pevensey Bay, England. The Battle of Tinchebray took place, where Henry I’s forces defeated those of his brother, Robert Curthose, Duke of Normandy, in a battle that lasted about an hour. Henry has his knight dismount, unusual for the time. Henry won the battle and the duchy of Normandy, as Robert was captured, as were many other nobles, including Edgar Atheling (uncle of Henry’s wife), and William, count of Mortain. Lastly, Heinrich VI, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Sicily by right of his wife, Constance, who held Richard for ransom, died today.
Day One of the Siege of Nottingham. Richard is infuriated when the castle defenders refuse to discuss terms (they do not believe he has really returned, think they are being tricked by the besiegers) and when several men are shot dead practically at his feet. He launches an attack and after fierce fighting and high casualties, he takes the outer bailey and captures the barbican. But the assault ends with the coming of night.
I’ll have a lot of catching up to do on my Today in History Notes once the siege ends. But I have to mention that this date had to give Lionheart a great deal of pleasure, for on September 28th, 1197, his nemesis, the Holy Roman Emperor Heinrich died unexpectedly in Sicily, a day many would have reason to celebrate. If I weren’t such an indifferent cook, I’d bake a cake.
Thank you Sharon for yet another fascinating glimpse into your work in progress:-)
I just want to mention that on this day in 1173, in the course of the Great Revolt, Robert earl of Leicester (one of Hal’s chief allies) together with his formidable wife, Petronilla and a large force of Normans and Flemings ‘both horse and foot’ landed at Walton in Suffolk after having received the news that the city of Leicester had fallen into Henry II’s hands. We will learn more about the outcome of the earl’s campaign in October:-)
And exactly a year after Robert’s landing in Suffolk, victorious Henry II held a conference at Mountlouis between Tours and Amboise with Louis VII and his sons shortly in the aftermath of the aforesaid rebellion. I loved the way Sharon described the whole event in Devil’s Brood. I’ve just read it and found Hal’s reaction to the terms offered by his father even more amusing that the first time I read it (Hal gasping and Geoffrey warningly jabbing him in the ribs, Richard’s smirk providing Hal with a lifeline :-)) IMHO, we should all reach for Devil’s Brood today!
Thanks, Kasia. One of Henry and Eleanor’s greatest failings as parents was their failure to instill any brotherly feelings between their sons. Another scene I had fun doing occurred the following year, when Henry tells Richard and Geoffrey that he is sending them to Aquitaine and Brittany to put down rebellions, but Hal is going to stay in England with him and learn the art of governing. Hal is not thrilled about this, but he tries to hide his feelings and he is very irked when both Geoffrey and Richard laugh at him behind Henry’s back. Henry, of course, remains clueless that his sons are less than loving toward one another.
Today’s Facebook Note.
Siege of Nottingham, Day Two. After taking control of the outer bailey and barbican, Richard faced the real challenge—the stone walls encircling the middle and inner baileys of the castle. So he set carpenters to building mangonels; we even know the name of the chief carpenter, a Master Roger. He also had them build a gallows and hanged several of John’s sergeants taken prisoner the day before, a graphic reminder to the rebel defenders what happened to a garrison if a castle refused to surrender and was taken by storm. He then gave them the night to mull that over.
A very interesting footnote to this siege is that according to the Pipe Rolls, Richard had Greek fire with him. This eastern incendiary weapon was legendary in the west, with stories brought back by crusaders of its mythical properties. It was said it could be extinguished only by sand or urine, that it burned on water, that its use was accompanied by thunder and black smoke. The Byzantines were famous for its use, and the ingredients were a state secret. But the Saracens used a variation and this is likely where Richard got the recipe, which we think included pine resin, naptha (crude oil) and sulphur. There is no evidence that Richard used it at the siege, which makes sense since Nottingham was a royal castle and repairs would have had to come out of his coffers. But I was fascinated by this little nugget of information. Interestingly enough, it was reported that Richard’s grandfather, Geoffrey of Anjou, used Greek fire during the siege of Montreuil-Bellay.
Sharon, let me guess! You are going to smuggle the aforesaid Master Roger into the heat of the action and give him a few most precious moments with his King (ipso facto immortalizing the man when he does- most willingly and wholeheartedly, of course- Richard’s bidding) 🙂
P.S. I love the scene in Devil’s Brood, as well. Although I haven’t spotted traces of brotherly malice in it, only pawky brotherly camaraderie:-) But I, being a reader, can only guess what the writer had in mind:-)
Indeed, Sharon, I must agree with all that people have written above – your character interactions in the books are simply masterly.
Today, the decisive sea Battle of Salamis took place, where the greatly outnumbered Greeks defeated the Persians, Henry III’s [IV] daughter, Margaret Queen of Scotland was born, as was Joan, the ‘Fair Maid of Kent’, who was wife to Edward, the Black Prince. Lastly, Frederick II was excommunicated by Pope Gregory IX for his failure to fulfill his Crusading vow, which later became extremely ironic.
Kassia, great observation and prediction about Roger. I bet you are right!
No, I’m afraid not. If I turn in another 1000 page book, my publisher will never forgive me. So Master Roger only gets his 15 seconds of fame here. I think it is cool that we know his name, though.
Hi Sharon, I am a keen reader from Australia. I wonder if you have any notion yet as to when Kings Ransom will be published and available in Australia?
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