Sharon Kay Penman's Blog, page 116

A murder on Wakefield Bridge

May 17th, 1443 was the birthdate of Edmund, Earl of Rutland, younger brother of Edward IV and older brother of Richard III, who was tragically murdered after the battle at Wakefield, at only seventeen. Here are a few passages from that chapter in Sunne. Edmund, injured and in a state of shock, has been captured on Wakefield Bridge by soldiers who cannot not believe their good luck, for they’ll be able to collect a huge ransom. But then Lord Clifford arrives on the scene and recognizes Edmund. He tells the soldiers to get the boy on his feet. Pages 43-44.
* * *
Fear made the man clumsy and Edmund was no help to him at all, his muscles cramped with cold, constricted with pain and fright. The soldier managed to help him rise, but in so doing, knocked them both into the railing. Pain radiated upward from Edmund’s torn knee, racked his body with agony. The darkness was shot through with a blood-red haze, swirling colors of hot, hurtful brightness that faded then into blackness.
When he came back to the bridge, he was assailed by sound, rushing at him in waves and then retreating. The soldiers were shouting. Rob was shouting. He heard words but they meant nothing to him. He reeled back against the railing, and the soldier who’d been holding him upright hastily withdrew, so that he stood alone. There was something wrong with his eyesight; the men seemed to be wavering, out of focus. He saw contorted faces, twisted mouths, saw Clifford, and then, saw the dagger drawn, held in Clifford’s hand.
“No,” he said, with the calm of utter disbelief. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t possibly be happening. Not to him. Prisoners were not put to death. Hadn’t Tom said so? Tom, who’d been taken prisoner, too. Tom, who was dead. He began to tremble. This was madness, a delusion of his pain-clouded mind. Less than one hour ago, he’d been standing beside his father in the great hall of Sandal Castle. That was real, but not this. Not this.
(Omission)
Rob’s anguished sobbing was all that echoed on the bridge. (omission)
“York bore the blame for the death of my father,” Clifford said loudly. “I had the right to kill the son!”
No one spoke. Rob held Edmund and wept. He looked up at last, to turn upon Clifford so burning a stare that one of the Lancastrian soldiers was moved to lay a restraining hand upon his shoulder.
“Easy, man,” he cautioned softly. “It was a bloody piece of work, I grant you. But it’s done, and you’ll not be changing that by throwing your own life away.”
“Done?” Rob echoed, his voice raw, incredulous. “Done, you say? Jesus God! After today, it is just beginning.
* * *
And Rania reminded me that another murder occurred on May 17th, this one a judicial murder in 1536 when George Boleyn, Anne’s brother, was executed.

Two very different women

On May 16, 1164 Heloise d’Argenteuil died. She is one of the more interesting women of the MA, famous for being one-half of the Heloise and Abelard love affair. I’ve always found her much more sympathetic than Abelard, who always seemed selfish and self-centered to me. However, Abelard does deserve credit for helping to mitigate one of the medieval Cburch’s harsher teachings. Until the 12th century, it was preached that babies who died before being baptized could not be buried in consecrated ground and went to Limbo for all eternity where they suffered the same torments as those in Hell. I had a scene in one of my mysteries where Justin came upon a pitiful little grave separate and apart from the others in the cemetery and realized that this was the last resting place of an unbaptized baby. But Abelard argued that there was no physical suffering for babies in Limbo, that they knew “natural happiness,” although they still could never look upon the Face of God or be reunited with their families in the Afterlife. His view gradually prevailed, so at least grieving parents no longer needed to imagine their children enduring the flames of Hell. The Catholic Church did not get around to disavowing the concept of Limbo until very recently, I am sorry to say. Heloise appears occasionally as a character in Sharan Newman’s excellent mystery series set in 12th century France, and Marion Meade, author of a biography of our Eleanor, also wrote a novel about Heloise and Abelard called Stealing Heaven; I think it was also made into a film, but I did not see it.
Also on May 16th, 1568, Mary Queen of Scots made another of her characteristic bad decisions and sought refuge in England. That did not turn out so well for her.

My Game of Thrones quiz

I have a new blog up, a Game of Thrones quiz. But as I say at the beginning of the blog, please be careful to avoid SPOILERS for those who are watching the HBO series but have not read the books. In other words, don't cite anything that happens in books three, four, or five! http://sharonkaypenman.com/blog/uiz.

My Game of Thrones Quiz

May 15th is another slow

history day, so I was going to fall back on that old standby, Game of Thrones,

which is quite medieval except for the dragons and Others and dyrewolves

and…Okay, maybe it is not so medieval.  But I decided that my Game of Thrones quiz

would make a better blog than a Facebook entry. 

First, I want to pass on an interesting bit of information.  George RR Martin wrote Sunday’s episode

himself.  He writes one each season; I’m

not sure which one he did in Season One but he did the Blackwater Battle

episode in Season Two.

     I hope this will

be fun for my fellow Game addicts.  

While we are all living in the Martin universe, we live on separate

continents; there are those of us who have read the books and those of us who

have not, preferring to watch the series without knowing what is coming

next.    So it will be tricky to pull

this off without telling the latter what they do not want to know.  But I have confidence we can do it.   The first SPOILER ALERT is for those who are

watching the HBO series but have not seen Sunday’s episode yet.  Read no further if you want to preserve the

suspense.    I found it interesting that

almost all of the scenes in this episode were not in the books, and even more

interesting that Master Martin penned them himself.   I really like the by-play between Bronn and

Tyrion.  I am still very worried about

Gentry.  I loved Tywin’s response when

bratty grandson Joffrey whined about having to climb all the steps up to the Hand’s

Tower.  Tywin said coolly, “We can always

arrange to have you carried.”   Joffrey

may be an idiot as well as a sociopath, but at least he has enough sense to be

wary of Grand-dad.   And I also loved Arya’s answer when asked who

her God was:  Death.    Rather sad, though, that this young girl

could make that sound so believable.

            Okay, now

we are into more dangerous territory.  I

want to ask a few questions about the characters.  Only some of my own answers come from the

books and we do not want to give anything away for our HBO-only brothers and

sisters.  So I suggest this.  In your own answers, do not specify WHY you

are choosing a particular character if his or her bad behavior has not yet

occurred in the series.    Just say; see

books.   Those who’ve read them will

understand and we won’t be spoiling the suspense for those who haven’t.  Here are the questions.

1)        Who do you think is the most evil character

in the Ice and Fire series?  For me, it

is Littlefinger, but my pick is based on what he does in later books.  So I am not going into detail about his many

sins.  This is a SEE BOOKS sort of pick.

2)       Who do you think is the most unlikable

character in the series?   For me, it is

Cersei.  My choice is based more on the

books than the series, especially the fourth book when we are allowed into

Cersei’s head—not a pleasant place to visit.

3)      Who

do you think is the character who has made the most remarkable

rehabilitation?  For me, that has to be

Jaime.

4)       Who do you think is the most sadistic

character in the series?    For me, it is

a dead heat between Joffrey and Theon’s torturer.  (Notice I do not identify the monster since

he has not be identified yet on HBO)  I’d

actually give him the edge over Joffrey, although it is a close race.

5)      This

is strictly an HBO question.  Which

character do you think makes more of an impact in the series than in the

books?   For me, it would be Margaery,

who did not make much of an impression on me on the printed page, but who

steals every scene she is in, thanks to the wonderful Natalie Dormer.   Same for her grandmother, the Queen of

Thorns, played by the incomparable Diana Rigg, who’d make a marvelous Eleanor

of Aquitaine in her winter years.   And

while I think Tywin is a strong character in the books, Charles Dance gives him

even more of an edge on screen. 

6)      Who

do you think is the character nowhere near as smart as he or she thinks?   For me, this is Cersei, based on both the

series and the books.

7)      Which

“good character” do you find the least sympathetic?   For me, that is Catelyn.  I can’t forgive her for the cruelty she

displayed to Jon Snow as a boy. 

      I

often found myself wanting to scream at my Angevins when they were about to do

something they’d greatly regret.  

Eleanor, maybe you ought to rethink this rebellion idea.  Richard, I think you forgot your hauberk;

want to go back for it?   Henry, for a

brilliant man, how can you be so dense as a dad?   Applying the lessons you belatedly learned

with Hal to Richard and Geoffrey is not going to work out so well for you.   You get the drift.  So here is my Game of Thrones question.   Which character did you want to grab and

give a good shake?  For me, this was an

easy one—the noble Ned Stark.  

9)      This

one is posed out of curiosity about your answers.  Who is your favorite character?  For me, it is Tyrion, both in the books and

as played by the brilliant Peter Dinklage in the HBO series.  

10)   Which secondary characters are you most happy

to see in a scene in the HBO series?  

For me, it would be Bronn and Ygritte and Brienne.    

11)   Lastly, what is your favorite scene in the

series so far?  And which one do you

think is the most shocking to date?   For

me, my favorite is the scene with Daenerys and the slimy slave trader, when she

trades one of her precious dragons for his Unsullied slave army and then pulls

a beautiful double-cross.   The most

shocking to me—especially since I had not read any of the books when I watched

the first episode of Season One—was when Jaime murmured, “The things I do for

love,” and pushed Bran out that window.

 

May 15, 2013

 

 

 

 

The Battle of Lewes

May 14, 1264 was the date of one of my favorite battles, favorite in the sense of fun to write about. The Battle of Lewes was a Christmas tree of battles, laden with so many gifts for a novelist. I have very sharp memories of the battlefield, too. Simon de Montfort and his men made a rare night march and reached the Downs not long before dawn. Below them lay the town and castle of Lewes. Centuries later, I trudged along that same bridle path with my friend Cris and her son and my godson, Geoff. It seemed to take forever and Cris and I began to worry that we’d taken the wrong path. But Geoff insisted we push on and suddenly there we were, gazing down at the same view that Simon would have seen on that May morning in 1264. (Okay, not the exact view, for Lewes is no longer a medieval town and the castle is gone.) But it gave us all a sense of satisfaction and excitement to have followed the track of that long-ago army.
The battle itself began disastrously for Simon. His Londoners, loyal but not battle-seasoned, broke under Edward’s charge and fled the field, with Edward and his men in hot pursuit. This was one of Edward’s few military mistakes; he was still young and learning. He left the field instead of savaging Simon now that he was so badly outnumbered. When Simon realized this, he made one of his bold gambles and led his reserve force against Henry’s left flank, with spectacular success. Here are a few passages from Falls the Shadow. Martin is a young clerk eager to bloody his sword for Simon, who is caught up in the panicked rout of his fellow Londoners up Offham Hill. P. 444
* * *
Risking another backward glance, he stumbled over an exposed tree root. It was a bruising fall; the metal rim of his kettle helmet slammed into his temple. His vision blurring, his head spinning, he lay still until the dizziness passed. A huge oak towered over him, dwarfing the other trees in the clearing. (omission) The sounds of the hunt were fading. Almost, he could believe he was alone in a woodland world of enchanted calm, centuries removed from the horrors of Offham Hill. And then he noticed the corpse. (omission)
“I tell you, Davydd, I saw some of them go this way.”
Martin froze. “So? Has Your Grace not slain enough Londoners for one day? Jesu, from the way you’ve gone at it, I’d think someone must be paying a bounty on them.” This second speaker spoke accented French; he sounded oddly detached, as if this carnage had naught to do with him.
Martin peered through an opening in the thickets. A handful of riders had reined in not twenty feet from where he lay, but he saw only the knight on a huge, white destrier. His hauberk caught the sun’s rays, shone like silver; the sword resting upon the pommel of his saddle was three feet long, the blade well smeared with blood. Martin’s mouth went dry. He knew he was looking upon the Lord Edward, knew now why their pursuit had been so relentless, so implacable. He and his comrades were paying for a July day at London Bridge, paying for every rotten egg that landed in Queen Eleanor’s barge, for every shout of “Drown the bitch,” for every promise sworn to Simon de Montfort. He sank lower in the grass, staring at the king’s son, astride that lathered, restive stallion. And I looked, and behold a pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death (omission)
* * *
Martin and another frightened Londoner were trying to make their way to Simon’s baggage camp, but Edward got there first. Three wealthy Londoners were being held prisoner there. As Martin watched in horror, they were dragged out of the horse litter and slain even as they screamed that they were Simon’s hostages, not his allies. Page 451-452
* * *
Swords flashed; within moments, the hapless merchants were hacked to death.
Martin looked away, sickened. In a day of horrors, somehow this seemed the most obscene horror of all, that Augustine de Hadestok, Stephen de Chelmsford, and Richard Picard should have been slain by their own allies. Godwin was tugging at his sleeve, urging him to flee. And indeed, now was the time, while Edward’s soldiers were ransacking the baggage. But they’d only covered a few yards before they encountered an armed knight.
He appeared to have been watching them for some time, at ease astride a bright chestnut destrier, his sword unsheathed and bloodied, but pointing downward. Rather than a great helm, he wore an old-fashioned kettle helmet with nose-guard, and the face turned toward them was young, sun-browned, surprisingly benign. But they were too frightened to notice his lack of rancor.
Davydd had no particular liking for Londoners; they too often acted as if the Welsh had tails. But he could see no sport in killing these bedraggled, scared youngsters. Poor fools, if they had any sense, they’d not be here at all; what did it really matter to them whether Edward or de Montfort prevailed? At that, he gave a low laugh; what did it matter to him, either? “Go on,” he said abruptly, “be off with you.” They gave him an incredulous look, then bolted. Davydd watched until they were out of sight, then urged his stallion into an easy canter, toward Simon’s ravaged encampment.
* * *
Davydd is, of course, Davydd ap Gruffydd, younger brother to the Welsh prince, Llywelyn ap Gruffydd, Edward’s ally of the moment after having to flee into English exile. In the next scene, he joins Edward as the latter rounds up his men to return to the battlefield.
Pages 452-453
* * *
They drew rein on the crest of the hill, where their first glimpse of the battlefield seemed to confirm Edward’s every expectation. The battle was over, part of the town in flames. Bodies beyond counting lay sprawled in the sun, some already stripped by looters. Men were searching the field for gain, others tending to the wounded, still others chasing loose horses. Only to the south, beyond the priory, did sporadic fighting continue, and that flurry of action degenerated, even as they watched, into a rout.
“Do you think he still lives, Ned?” Hal asked hesitantly, for he could not imagine Simon dead, any more than he could imagine the sun plummeting from the sky.
“No,” Edward said flatly. “He’s not a man to be taken alive.” Turning in the saddle, he raised his voice. “We’ll give our horses a brief rest; they’ve been roughly used this day. But the sooner we get back to the castle, the sooner we can begin celebrating!”
Some of them were ready to celebrate then and there, and wineskins were soon passing back and forth. It was left to Davydd, the outsider, to stumble onto the truth. Moving to the edge of the bluff, he gazed down at the battlefield. (omission) Blood of Christ! For a long moment, he sat motionless in the saddle, scarcely breathing. Could it be that he’d wagered once again on the wrong horse?
His sudden shout drew all eyes. Edward was moving toward him, though without haste. Davydd spurred his stallion away from the bluff. “If we won the battle,” he said tautly, “why is the castle under siege?”
* * *
Once they realized the battle was lost, Edward’s knights elected to save themselves and fled. Edward courageously fought his way into the priory where his father had taken refuge, and the next day they surrendered to Simon. The Battle of Lewes put the governance of England into Simon’s hands….until the following year, when he and his godson, Edward, would meet again on a battlefield, this time at Evesham.

A Tudor princess marries for love

On May 13, 1515, Henry VIII’s younger sister Mary Tudor wed the man she loved, Charles Brandon. In October of 1514, the 18 year old princess had been wed against her will to the 52 year old French king, Louis XII. To secure her consent to the marriage, Brother Henry promised her that she could choose her next husband if she outlived Louis, as seemed likely. As it happened, the marriage lasted less than three months; he died in January 1515, with gossip having it that he’d worn himself out in the bedchamber with his beautiful young bride. (This would be a great plot device in a mystery novel; young woman kills her aging rich husband with a weapon impossible for police to detect—sex.) Mary was now free to wed the man she loved, her brother’s friend, Charles Brandon. But she did not trust Henry to keep his promise and so she wed Charles while still in France and presented her irate brother with a fait accompli. An astute judge of character, that girl. If Mary were able to watch cable television in the Afterlife, she’d have been astonished by the Showtime series, The Tudors, in which she was renamed Margaret, the name of her sister, and wed to the King of Portugal, whom she then murdered.

A wedding in Cyprus

On May 12, 1191, Richard Coeur de Lion and Berengaria of Navarre were wed at Limassol in Cyprus. Berengaria thus has the distinction of being the only English queen to be wed and crowned in Cyprus. She has a more dubious distinction, too, being the only English queen never to set foot on English soil. One of Eleanor’s biographers claims that she did make trips to England during John‘s reign, basing this claim upon safe conducts issued to her. But no other historians believe she actually made use of them, as there is no evidence at all to support a visit to England. I certainly don’t believe it.
Here is a passage describing the wedding from one of the chroniclers who accompanied Richard on crusade, the Itinerarium Peregrinorum et Gesta Regis Ricardi: “On the following day, a Sunday, on the Feast of St Pancras, King Richard and Berengaria, daughter of the King of Navarre, were married at Limassol. The young woman was very wise and of good character. She was there crowned queen. The Archbishop of Bordeaux was present at the ceremony, as was the Bishop of Evreux and the Bishop of Bayonne, and many other magnates and nobles. The king was merry and full of delight, pleasant and agreeable to everyone.”
Ambroise, who is one of the few chroniclers to have actually seen Berengaria, described her as “very fair and lovely.” But the chronicler who most often gets quoted is the snarky Richard of Devizes, who described her as “more prudent than pretty” even though he never laid eyes upon her. Both Ambroise and the author of the Itinerarium believed that Richard had desired her since he was Count of Poitou, even referring to her as his “beloved.” As I’ve often said, this is sweet but I remain skeptical for I am convinced Richard did not have a romantic bone in his entire body. It does cast an interesting light, though, upon contemporary views of the marriage; to quote Richard’s primary biographer, Dr John Gillingham, it shows that they believed Richard’s sexual tastes were “conventional.” \
Even if chronicler reports cannot be verified, they are useful for what they say about public opinion or what rumors and gossip were saying. For example, Roger de Hoveden, one of the most reliable of the 12 century chroniclers, said that Richard’s illegitimate son, Philip, killed the Viscount of Limoges as vengeance for his father’s death. Although the viscount did indeed die that year, for some reason historians tend to discount this, even though they usually find Hoveden very trustworthy. But whether it was true or not, it is interesting that Hoveden thought it credible, giving us one of our few glimpses of Richard’s relationship with his son.
There is some conflict regarding the fate of the crossbowman who shot Richard, too. All agreed that Richard forgave him on his deathbed; one chronicler even says he gave the young man money. All agreed, too, that Richard’s pardon was not honored once he was dead. One chronicler said that Mercadier seized the man and had him flayed alive. The Annals of Winchester reported that Mercadier sent the unfortunate soul to Joanna, who had him put to death slowly. I believe the first account because Joanna was not at Chalus. She did not even know Richard was dead until weeks later; she’d been on her way to seek military aid from him for her husband and was devastated when she learned of his death on her journey. She went at once to Fontevault to pray at his grave and sought her mother out; they were reunited on May 5th at Niort. Joanna was also in poor health, dealing with a problem pregnancy, her third in three years. So I think Mercadier is the more likely one to have put the man to death under these circumstances. But that the Winchester chronicler believed it is further evidence—albeit very grim evidence, of the strong bond between Joanna and her brother and I find it interesting for that reason.
Last week I’d posted about Richard’s Hollywood--style rescue of his sister and betrothed from the emperor of Cyprus, and one of my blog readers asked me to post the passage from the chronicle describing the women’s despair and then joy on a day that must have felt like an emotional roller coaster. Even though it does not really relate to their wedding, I thought I might as well post it here, too. This comes from the Itinerarium.
“On the third day, a Sunday, he again tried to get round the queens and seduce them with flattery and deceit. The queens were in a tight spot. They began to waver, anxious that if they submitted to the emperor’s persuasions, they would be taken captive. On the other hand, they were afraid that he would attack them if they persisted in their refusals….In order to hold the emperor off for a while, they gave a noncommittal reply, assuring him they would disembark on the following day and entrust themselves to the emperor’s judgment. On the basis of this promise, the emperor held back.
While the queens were burning with growing anxiety, God sent them prompt help. On that same Sunday, while they were gloomily discussing and bewailing their situation to each other and gazing out across the sea, two ships appeared in the distance among the foaming peaks of the rolling waves, sailing rapidly toward them, tossing about like little crows. The queens and those with them were still doubtful as to what this was, when they caught the sight of some other ships following them. An enormous number fo ships following immediately behind, heading directly toward the port at great speed. Guessing that this was the royal fleet, they were overjoyed, the more so because help is the most welcome to those who have despaired of it.”
Another chronicler says Joanna was the one who kept trying to hold the emperor off and that certainly fits with what we know of Eleanor’s daughter. These crusader chronicles are unusual in that they so often focus upon the human side, the emotions of the people involved, and in this case, the emotions of women, who were normally ignored by chroniclers.

Pull of the Yew Tree

May 11th was another slow medieval news day. So it seems a good time to call your attention to a new novel that ought to appeal to my fellow Ricardians. I have not had a chance to read it yet; pleasure reading is as elusive as the unicorn around the Penman household these days. But it sounds intriguing. The title is Pull of the Yew Tree, written by Australian author, Pauline Toohey. It is set in 15th century Ireland, and is based upon a powerful Irish family, the Fitzgeralds of Kildare. As an added bonus, Richard III, then Duke of Gloucester, makes a cameo appearance during the battle of Barnet. Pauline says that it is available in paperback worldwide, and it will soon be available in the e-book format, too. And I am not jealous at all that you guys get to read about medieval Ireland while I’m still bogged down doing research on the ghastly symptoms of gangrene.

Monsters among us

The horror stories coming out of Cleveland this week force us to face a frightening fact, that there are monsters among us, monsters who look and act and seem normal. At least we have the consolation of knowing that they are few, even if not as few as we’d wish. But imagine living in a country filled with monsters. Imagine Afghanistan, which has the dubious distinction of being named the most dangerous country in the world in which to be a woman. This is the story of one of those women, who was given in marriage at age 12 as “payment” for an uncle’s crime, a very common occurrence there. I hesitate to call her lucky considering the hell she has gone through, but she is luckier than many of her Afghan sisters, for she did not die from her abuse and she has been given the chance for a new beginning, a new life. The link below tells her story.
http://www.cnn.com/2013/05/10/us/aesh...

Don't scold your dog for tracking mud into the house!

No news on the medieval history front. So I am posting an interesting article about how pet ownership lowers our risk of heart disease. We all know about the benefits of exercise and companionship. But what I found particularly interesting is the suggestion that we also benefit from all the dirt they track into the house!
http://www.today.com/health/pets-migh...