Sharon Kay Penman's Blog, page 96

A tragedy in the Tower

On March 1, 1244, Gruffydd ap Llywelyn, eldest son of Llywelyn Fawr, died in an escape attempt from the Tower of London. He was being held prisoner by the English king, Henry III, and although he was kept in comfortable confinement, it was still confinement, and, always a bold, impulsive man, he tried to climb down from the upper story of the White Tower on knotted sheets. An English chronicler laconically noted that he was a big man and had grown heavy in captivity and the sheets broke, hurling him to a gruesome death; I will spare you all the gory details in case some of you are reading this while having breakfast. Ironically, he died on the feast day of the patron saint of Wales, St Dayvdd. So…..Happy St Davydd’s Day, everyone!
Good luck to those in the path of yet another snowstorm on Monday, and yes, I am among them.
And the same for my California friends and readers, who are facing flooding and mudslide threats. It might be time to consider making a sacrifice to a very irate Mother Nature. I would not mind losing some of those stubborn souls who continue to claim there is no global climate change in the face of all evidence to the contrary.

The young king

February 28, 1155 was the birthday of Henry and Eleanor’s second son, named Henry after his sire, who would be known to history as the young king. This must have been such a happy day for Henry and Eleanor, and she must have taken great satisfaction in having proved her enemies and her former husband wrong. This “barren queen” had given Henry two sons in less than two years. As she continued to produce sons in the years that followed, Louis must have thought that she was pouring salt into his wounds. I am guessing that Hal’s Polish guardian angel, Kasia, will do a blog for his birthday, and I will be sure to post the link here, if someone does not beat me to it.
A major snowstorm is bearing down on us on Monday. I am so thankful that the book tour starts on Tuesday, although they are forecasting another storm for Thursday, which is when I’m to fly from Newark to Scottsdale. And yes, I am already getting a bit nervous.

New Richard III Tour

I am very happy to report that we are ready to launch the second Richard III Tour. The dates are September 22nd till September 30th, and the good folk at Academic Travel have managed to set up another event with Philippa Langley and Mathew Morris, which was the highlight of the last Richard tour, according to the participants; Philippa is the driving force behind the quest for Richard’s lost grave and Mathew is the leading archaeologist on the dig. We will also be able to visit Crosby Hall, Richard’s London residence, which has been lovingly restored and is generally not open to the public. They added an extra day, too, which I think was a good idea. Here is the link. http://skp0913.com/ It has the daily itinerary, the cost, contact information, and you ought to be able to find answers to your questions there. You can also e-mail me at sharonkpenman@yahoo.com with questions. I hope very much that the court case between Leicester and York might be settled before September and Richard finally laid to rest with the dignity that was denied him in 1485. But I honestly don’t know if this will happen in time for the tour. Academic Travel will start accepting reservations for the tour at 9 AM, EST, today. 1-800 556 7896 or 202 785 9000 The first Richard III tour sold out in just two days, much to our surprise; clearly the man is a rock star even after five hundred years! So for those of you who’d like to come, I’d urge you to call ASAP. I don’t know if this tour will fill up so fast, but I wouldn’t want anyone to be disappointed as happened the last time.

A story to make you smile while blinking back tears

Facebook really is changing our world, perhaps not always for the better. But for a lonely little boy named Colin, it is going to give him a birthday he'll never forget. Here is his story, but be warned--it tugs at the heartstrings. http://www.care2.com/causes/this-boy-...

A Welsh prince's death and Downton Abbey quiz

February 25, 1246 was the date of death of Davydd ap Llywelyn, the latter’s son with Joanna. Davydd’s death was premature and undoubtedly changed Welsh history. He was a worthy successor to his great sire, but the odds were against him. When I wrote Dragons, I knew that his widow, Isabella de Braose, entered the nunnery at Godstow. I had assumed this was her choice, for it was not that unusual, although she was still a young woman. In the decades since then, it has been established that this was not voluntary on her part, that she was forced into the convent by Henry III, which makes her story all the sadder. Henry also seems to get a pass for his treatment of his cousin, Eleanor of Brittany. Yes, John imprisoned her for 14 years, but Henry then held her captive for another 25 years, until her death in 1241. And while it is easier to see why John felt threatened by her, Henry has no such excuse.
On my Facebook fan club page, we’ve all been taking a test to see which historical character we are; I was delighted to find my alter ego was Boudicca. I’ll try to remember to post it on my other Facebook pages since I know not all of you are members of the fan club. It was a fun test and so is this one, sent to me by Priscilla Royal. This is for fans of Downton Abbey; which one of the characters are you? I am Anna and am quite happy with that. I would not have wanted to be Rose or O’Brien!
http://www.buzzfeed.com/justinabarca/...

The dogs of Sochi and Downton Abbey

No medieval chitchat today, so here is an interesting story about the dogs of Sochi, and the link leads to other stories about the Olympics.
http://www.nbcnews.com/storyline/soch...
And here is an article about the season finale of Downton Abbey, which I taped so I can watch later this week. http://www.today.com/entertainment/do... I don’t know if there are as many Downton Abbey fans here as there are fans of Game of Thrones, but I am guessing there are some? As for me, I enjoy watching it, although it was hard to forgive them for that shocking death last season and I don’t think it is nearly as mesmerizing as the series it clearly drew its inspiration from—Upstairs, Downstairs. But then many of you were probably not even alive when that show debuted!

Beaches, deer, Ransom reviews, and book tour

Nothing to chat about on the medieval front today, so I thought I’d try to cheer up all of you in the path of this latest invasion of arctic air. Minneapolis is going to face a high of minus 3!!!! I think we may have to take up a collection to send Stephanie and Jo to one of these beaches
http://www.cnn.com/2014/02/20/travel/...
And here are some remarkable photos of deer in London’s Richmond Park.
http://www.weather.com/travel/these-d...
I’m happy to report that Ransom has received a few more very nice advance reviews which I’ll try to post here later. And the Amazon mother ship’s reviews are so good that I feel as if I should issue a disclaimer that none of the reviewers are long-lost Penman cousins.
I am starting to get ready for the book tour, hope very much to meet some of you in West Chester, Princeton, Scottsdale, Houston, Ann Arbor, the Seattle and Portland areas, San Francisco, Palo Alto, and Tucson.

Cry Wolf

Nothing of medieval importance today, but this story of the wolf in the Sochi hotel is very funny. Jimmy Kimmel strikes again. What I found hilarious were the claims by the hotel that it was really a husky. Anyone who saw that video knows it was NOT a husky. Although I dismissed the husky cover story out of hand, I admit I still found it hard to believe a wolf would be sauntering so casually down a hotel hallway, as if he’d lost his key or couldn’t remember his room number. I’m surprised the Sochi authorities didn’t claim it was a poodle in disguise, for they are so set upon the games being perfect that they were rounding up and killing all the stray dogs in town before the games began; thankfully, Russian animal activists were up in arms about that, some of them driving all the way from Moscow to rescue as many dogs as they could. But the town still will not admit anyone to inspect their animal shelter. I doubt that any self-respecting wolf would choose to hang around a town where its canine cousins were being killed and the mayor’s homophobic rants made anyone listening wonder about his IQ or his sanity. Here is the video. http://www.theverge.com/2014/2/21/543...

And for my fellow Game of Thrones fans, season three is now available in the DVD format and season four will start in early April. Oh, and Jon Snow, aka Kit Harrington, has found a foe even scarier than dragons, an exploding volcano, starring in the new film, Pompeii. I haven’t seen it, but one reviewer described it as a “guilty pleasure.”

The king and the saint

I think we can safely say that February 21, 1173 was not a good day for Henry, as it was on this date that the Church officially declared Thomas Becket a saint. Henry would, of course, later make that spectacular act of penance and atonement at Becket’s tomb, and it is possible that he came to believe in Becket’s sainthood after the Scots king was captured at the very hour he was praying for Becket’s aid. Knowing Henry, it is also quite possible that he did not, that he made his peace with the man who’d once been a cherished friend, not with a holy martyr.
Time and Chance, pages 508-509, as Henry is about to sail for Ireland, hoping to lay low there till the furor over Becket’s death blows over.
* * *
“Ranulf…do you think Thomas Becket was a saint?”
“I do not know, Harry.”
“There is much talk of miracles at his tomb and the like. But surely that is not proof? There are fools aplenty who are credulous enough to believe any nonsense that reaches their ears.”
“I’ve heard of those miracles,” Ranulf acknowledged, “and in truth, I do not know what to make of them. To us, Thomas was a mortal man, one like any other, with his share of flaws and follies. It is difficult to envision him a saint.”
“Well nigh impossible,” Henry said trenchantly. “Did I ever tell you what he was reported to have said about the expulsion of his kinfolk and servants? When he was told that some of them were on their way to join him at Pontigny, he replied that as long as their souls were saved, he cared not if they were flayed to the bone. How saintly does that sound?”
“Well….not very. But I suppose it could be argued that saints care only for the spiritual and not the corporeal.”
“Do you believe that?” Henry demanded and Ranulf shook his head, smiling.
“No, not really. I cannot answer your question, Harry, doubt that anyone can. I do know, though, that saints are not judged like ordinary men. That is, after all, what makes them saints.”
Henry drained the last of his wine, then looked up at Ranulf, his expression an odd one, at once skeptical and regretful. “Saint or no,” he conceded, “Thomas got the last word for certes.”
* * *

A tragic death for so many

February 20th, 1194 was the date of death of Tancred, King of Sicily. His death was tragic for his family and for the Sicilians, for his teenage son had died unexpectedly that past December, and his own death left his four year old son as his heir. The timing could not have been worse, for all knew Heinrich von Hohenstaufen was gathering an army for an invasion of Sicily, financed in part by the exorbitant, outrageous ransom he’d extorted from the English king. The Sicilians would have rallied around Tancred, as they had when Heinrich launched his first unsuccessful invasion in 1191. But few believed that Tancred’s widow and small son would be able to stave off the German juggernaut and they hastened to submit to Heinrich, whose invasion turned into a triumphant procession. It was soon over, and Heinrich was crowned as King of Sicily on Christmas day, which he celebrated by having the bodies of Tancred and his eldest son dragged from their tombs. Tancred’s widow had surrendered upon being assured that her family would not be harmed and her little boy would even be allowed to inherit the county of Lecce, for Tancred had been Count of Lecce before usurping the throne.

Richard could have told her that Heinrich’s word was worthless, and indeed that proved to be the case. Four days after his coronation, Heinrich claimed to have discovered a plot against him. Tancred’s queen, Sybilla, and her children were sent under guard to Germany, as were Admiral Margaritis and the Archbishop of Salerno, among others. The men were entombed at Trifels Castle, where Richard had been held, but they were not as lucky as he and were held there until their deaths; Heinrich had also ordered Margaritis blinded. Sybilla and her four daughters were confined to a German convent, although they were able to escape to France after Heinrich’s unexpected death. Tancred’s small son’s fate was the most tragic of all; he was taken to a German monastery where he was blinded and castrated and died soon afterward. And Tancred, as he lay dying in February of 1194, would have known that his family and his kingdom were doomed, for he knew Heinrich. I can imagine few deaths more bitter than his.

PS I found Tancred to be a surprise, for when I began to research Lionheart, I had a negative opinion of him for usurping the throne and holding Joanna captive, also seizing her dower lands. But the more I learned about him, the more I realized that he was a decent man in a very precarious position, doing the best he could to stave off the dangers posed by the Emperor Heinrich. He held Joanna in one of her own palaces, and when her angry brother demanded her immediate release and return of her dower, he wisely complied. During the months that Richard spent in Sicily, he seems to have reached the same conclusion I did, that Tancred was a man of honor for the two kings became surprisingly friendly in light of their adversarial beginning. Joanna seems to have forgiven Tancred, too, for when she and Berengaria reached Sicily on their way home from the Holy Land, they were warmly welcomed by Tancred and his queen and lingered for a while to enjoy his hospitality. Joanna was an Angevin, after all, and they were always pragmatists.