Sharon Kay Penman's Blog, page 83

My perfect storm and greatest medieval scandals

I am sorry I haven’t been able to be around much this summer, but I have been kept insanely busy by—to use that highly useful cliché—the convergence of a perfect storm. As always, I’ve been fending off the deadline dragon, who has his own room now and has even begun to demand room service. I had to get some home renovations done, and anyone who has been down that path knows all about its pitfalls and perils. I had the cataract surgery, and lately I’ve been getting ready for my research trip to Israel. So something had to go and in a choice between sleep and Facebook, my aging body insisted upon sleep. So while I’ve been unable to participate in the “Name ten books that influenced you” fun, I’ve enjoyed reading your lists; it has been a great way to add new books to my towering TBR list.
Now one of my favorite websites, Medievalists.net, has an eye-opening article about the greatest scandals of the MA. I am happy to report that Philippe Capet’s shabby treatment of his Danish queen, Ingeborg, made the list. http://www.medievalists.net/2014/09/0...

Time and Chance is an e-book at last

On this date in 1470, the Earl of Warwick and Edward’s loose cannon of a brother, George, Duke of Clarence, landed in England, after having been forced to flee to France. Edward could not have dreamed that in a few weeks, he and his young brother Richard would be the ones in flight. But when Warwick’s brother, John Neville, suddenly switched sides, the Yorkist king and his small group of followers had to flee for their lives.
I have good news for my British readers. Time and Chance is finally available for pre-order as an e-book on Amazon.com.UK. The publication date is November 6th, but it is possible it may be sooner. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Time-Chance-S...
And for my Australian readers, my British publisher is trying to find out why When Christ and his Saints Slept was suddenly and mysteriously no longer available for sale as an e-book Down Under.

Napoleon and Bernard Cornwell

So what happened on September 12th in medieval history? Nothing I’ve written about, but of interest, nonetheless. On this date in 1213 an important battle was fought at Muret, in which Simon de Montfort (the father of “my” Simon) defeated Peter II, the King of Aragon, who was slain during the fighting. This battle doomed the people of southern France, for had Peter won, the so-called Albigensian Crusade would have sputtered to an end, many lives would have been spared and the Inquisition would not have gotten its claws into Toulouse. But whatever his flaws, de Montfort was a superb soldier, a better one than Peter, and history took a sad turn for the worst. Peter, by the way, was the son of a minor character in Devil’s Brood and A King’s Ransom, Alphonso, King of Aragon, Richard’s erstwhile friend.
Also on September 12th in 1369, Blanche, the Duchess of Lancaster, first wife of John of Gaunt, died of the plague. She was only 24, a great heiress, and appears as a sympathetic character in Anya Seton’s classic, Katherine.
Lastly, for the many Bernard Cornwell fans here, he has a new book out, his first non-fiction, Waterloo, which discusses one of history’s more important battles. It is already out in the UK, published yesterday, but will not be published in the US until next May. I really do not understand why publishers cannot co-ordinate these publications. But here is the link to the Amazon.UK book. And of course we are eagerly awaiting the new book in Master Cornwell’s Saxon series, The Empty Throne. http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/00...

Faith in humanity restored

There is so much tragic news in the world that we need all the morale boosters we can find, and that is especially true on the anniversary of 9/11. This brief video will do the trick, showing us people at their best and happy endings. Only the utterly heartless could watch the baby elephant’s reunion with his mother and not be touched by it.
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=...

A queen, a batlte, and another Game of Thrones tidbit

September 11th, 1161 was the date of death of a very interesting woman who is not very well known today—Melisende, Queen of Jerusalem in her own right, strong-willed widow of Fulk of Anjou, our Henry II’s grandfather. For anyone who’d like to learn more of her unusual history, I recommend Sharan Newman’s biography, Defending the City of God. September 11th was also the date in 1297 of the battle of Stirling Bridge, in which William Wallace defeated an English army. It was dramatized in Braveheart—well, except for the bridge and the battle tactics.
And here is a tantalizing glimpse of the next season of Game of Thrones, which seems very far away to those of us eager to return to Master Martin’s fierce fantasy world.
http://www.vanityfair.com/vf-hollywoo...

Medieval Death

Sadly, I have to deal with death on a regular basis in my books. It is unusual when I know for a certainty how a character died. There are battlefield deaths, of course—Richard III, Simon de Montfort and his eldest son, Llywelyn ap Gruffydd, Richard I, the Welsh poet-prince, Hywel ab Owain. A few who were murdered—Edmund, Earl of Rutland and Thomas Becket. One tournament death—Geoffrey. Several deaths attributable to childbirth or pregnancy complications—Ellen de Montfort, Joanna, probably Constance of Brittany. Quite a few died of dysentery, which was a killer in the MA—the young king, Hal, John, Edward I, Amalric, the King of Jerusalem. Henry II seems likely to have died of septicemia. When a chronicler notes that a character died after a long illness, we can usually assume it was cancer, as with the Black Prince, Tancred, the King of Sicily, Constance de Hauteville, Heinrich von Hohenstaufen’s unhappy wife and happy widow, Davydd ap Llywelyn. Heinrich probably died of malaria, although historians have also suggested dysentery or typhoid. One suicide—Guy de Montfort. One gruesome death from a fall—Gruffydd ap Llywelyn as he tried to escape from the Tower of London. One death from leprosy—Baldwin, the young King of Jerusalem, although Eleanor’s nephew, her sister Petronilla’s son, was said to be afflicted with this disease, too. And one death by torture, disguised as royal justice—Davydd ap Gruffydd.
Usually, though, we just do not know, for diseases easily treatable today were often fatal in the MA, and where the chroniclers were silent, I had to provide a plausible death for these characters: John the Scot, Earl of Chester, dying of typhus, William, the King of Sicily, dying of peritonitis, Elen ferch Llywelyn dying of a miscarriage, to cite a few examples. .
But it is very rare that any of my characters actually died of “old age,” having reached their biblical three-score-years-and-ten or beyond. Eleanor of Aquitaine made it, as did Cecily Neville, the Duchess of York, both of whom were 80 when they died. We might include the Empress Maude in that category, too; she died on September 10, 1167, at age 65. Now we’d not consider that as “old age” today, but it was in the 12th century.
There was another death on September 10th, though, that is unique, for while it was due to an accident, it is what we today would have called “a freak accident,” so unexpected was it. On this date in 1197, Henri, Count of Champagne, uncrowned king of Jerusalem through his marriage to the young Queen, Isabella, although he never claimed that title, nephew to Richard Lionheart, grandson to the indomitable Eleanor, died when a balcony in the royal palace at Acre suddenly gave way, plunging Henri and his dwarf, who attempted to save him, to their deaths. Henri was only 31 and was that rarity, a man who seemed to have been universally admired and liked; he was highly praised by the crusader chroniclers and the Saracen chroniclers were equally complimentary. I became very fond of Henri while writing Lionheart, and I was glad I did not have to dramatize his death. I’ve had to do that all too often in the course of my books, although I find it even harder to write about the grieving of the loved ones than the actual deaths themselves.

The count, the king, and Gloriana

Going backward in time, September 7th was a date worth writing about—even for someone in post-cataract recovery. In 1151, Geoffrey, the Count of Anjou, better known today as the father of Henry II, died suddenly on his way home from their meeting with the French king in Paris. He was only 38 and the most likely story is that he caught a chill after swimming in a local river to cool off in the late summer heat. In 1191, Richard Lionheart got the best advance birthday present of his life when he scored a victory over Saladin in the battle of Arsuf. And in 1533, the only “Good Tudor” was born, when Anne Boleyn gave birth to a red-haired baby girl, whom Henry would name after his mother, Elizabeth of York. He is said to have adored her and I wonder if he’d have been a different man had she not died so young. When he became involved with Anne Boleyn and treated Katherine of Aragon and his daughter Mary so cruelly to break their spirits, Elizabeth of York would not have been 70 yet. Would he have heeded her had she been there to speak up for his abused wife and child? Just another of History’s unanswerable What ifs.

A joyful moment for two of our favorite royals

I am happy to report that my cataract surgery went quite well, as has the recovery. I want to thank everyone for the good wishes. All of you who assured me that it was pain-free and anxiety-free were quite right. I still have to get the left lens changed, of course, so I can’t read much on the computer screen until that is done, but I am delighted with the results. And it is also true that colors do seem brighter.
I missed several important Angevin milestones this past week, so I will post some retroactive comments as I slowly catch up. Meanwhile, today is the birthdate 857 years ago, September 8th, 1157, of the most famous of the Devil’s Brood, Eleanor’s favorite son, Richard. I couldn’t resist posting from a scene in Time and Chance, a scene frozen in amber, in which Henry and Eleanor’s marriage was still whole and happy and they still thought the world was theirs for the taking.
Time and Chance, page 53
* * *
Somewhere along the way from the castle, Henry had found a garden to raid, for he was carrying an armful of Michaelmas daisies. These he handed to Petronilla, rather sheepishly, for romantic gestures did not come easily to him. Crossing the chamber in several strides, he leaned over the bed to give his wife a kiss. (omission)
“Are you hurting, love?”
Eleanor’s smile was tired, but happy. “Not at all,” she lied. “By now the babes just pop right out, like a cork from a bottle.”
Henry laughed. “Well….where is the little cork?”
A wet nurse came forward from the shadows, bobbing a shy curtsy before holding out a swaddled form for his inspection. Henry touched the ringlets of reddish-gold hair, the exact shade of his own, and grinned when the baby’s hand closed around his finger. “Look at the size of him,” he marveled, and as his eyes met Eleanor’s, the same thought was in both their minds: heartfelt relief that God had given them such a robust, sturdy son. No parent who’d lost a child could ever take health or survival for granted again.
“We still have not decided what to name him,” Henry reminded his wife. “I fancy Geoffrey, after my father.”
“The next one,” she promised. “I have a name already in mind for this little lad.”
He cocked a brow. “Need I remind you that it is unseemly to name a child after a former husband?”
Eleanor’s lashes were drooping and her smile turned into a sleepy yawn. “I would not name a stray dog after Louis,” she declared, holding out her arms for her new baby. She was surprised by the intensity of emotion she felt as she gazed down into that small, flushed face. Had God sent him to fill the aching void left by Will’s death? “I want,” she said, “to name him Richard.”
* * *

One of the reasons why Richard Coeur de Lion and Saladin became legends in their own lifetimes

September 2nd, 1192 was the date of the peace treaty signed between two of medieval history’s most legendary figures, Saladin and Richard Coeur de Lion. It was actually a truce, to last for three years and eight months. The terms were not so different from those offered by Richard in November of 1191, though this time Joanna was not included as a bargaining chip. The background to this agreement is quite interesting, as readers of Lionheart may remember. Richard was stricken with malaria after his improbable victory at Jaffa and came very close to death; Baha al-Din even recorded a rumor that he’d died. He was running such a high fever that he was hallucinating at times, which enabled me to get his dead brother Geoffrey into a scene with him, always good fun. The sticking point of the negotiations had been Ascalon, which Saladin had destroyed rather than see it fall into Richard’s hands after his victory at Arsuf. Richard later camped in the ruins and spent a large sum of money rebuilding the castle. Saladin was adamant that it not remain in the hands of the Christians and Richard was just as adamant that he would not yield it without being compensated for the money he’d expended upon it. Here is where it got really interesting.
Afraid that Richard was dying, his friends and allies were desperate to come to terms with Saladin, for they were in a very precarious position, fearing another attack by Saladin and knowing Jaffa’s battered walls would not hold off such an assault. Saladin was indeed planning an attack after learning there were only 300 knights with Richard. But then he got a message that Richard had asked al-Adil to broker a peace, and a second message from the Bishop of Salisbury saying Richard had agreed to surrender Ascalon without compensation. An agreement was soon reached and Saladin sent an envoy to Richard with a draft of the treaty.
Lionheart, page 560-561
* * *
“No,” Richard said, shaking his head stubbornly. “I did not agree to yield Ascalon without compensation. I would never do that!”
There was a shocked silence, the other men looking at one another in dismay. “You did, Uncle.” Henri approached the bed, picking up the document that Richard had crumpled and flung to the floor. “Andre and the bishop and I…we came to you and explained why Ascalon had to be sacrificed—“
“No! I would never do that.”
“Richard….it happened as Henri says. You do not remember…not any of it?”
Richard’s eyes searched Andre’s face, then shifted to Hubert Walter. “No….I agreed to this? You swear it is so?” When all three of them assured him it was, he sank back against the pillows. It was very disturbing, even frightening, to think he’d made such an important decision and had no memory of it. When he glanced up again, he saw that the sultan’s envoy was becoming agitated, asking Humphrey de Toron what had gone wrong. “Humphrey….tell him that if I said it, I will honor my word. And tell him to say this to Saladin—that I accept the terms and understand that if I receive any compensation for Ascalon, it will be because of his generosity and bounty.”
* * *
I think this episode shows both Richard and Saladin in a good light. Richard truly did not remember agreeing to surrender Ascalon due to his high fever, but he honored his word. And Saladin demonstrated that Richard was not wrong to rely upon his “generosity and bounty,” for he did compensate Richard for the money he’d spent on Ascalon, which was then destroyed so neither side could benefit from it. Baha al-Din reported that the two armies mingled afterward and “It was a day of rejoicing. God alone knows the boundless joy of both peoples.”
I may be away from Facebook for a while, as I am having cataract surgery tomorrow. I am looking forward to that with the same enthusiasm I’d show for a chance to go swimming with Great White Sharks or to attend a Henry VIII Fan Club conference. But I keep reminding myself that things have improved greatly since the MA, when a “doctor” would visit a town, promising to heal cloudy vision. He would then pierce the eye of the patient/victim with a needle. Apparently this actually did cause a brief improvement in vision, and by the time the inevitable infection set in, the doctor was long gone, off to the next town or village. I had two characters who went blind in Saints, Rhiannon and Willem de Ypres, and I had to do a great deal of research about this, all of which has remained gruesomely vivid in my memory over the years. Anyway, I shall return, and till then, I hope no one (no names mentioned, of course) decides to stage a coup.

Game of Thrones--more killing ahead, shocking, I know

I hope it has been an enjoyable holiday for my American friends and readers, and a good weekend for everyone else. Nothing to chat about on September 1st in medieval history, so I am falling back on my old standby---Game of Thrones. Hey, we need something to tide us over till the next season starts or GRRM finishes the next book.
http://www.today.com/books/game-thron...
http://www.rollingstone.com/movies/ne...