Tuesday, March 17

Medieval Ireland

Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona daoibh- Happy Saint Patrick's Day to you all!

Saint Patrick

Yes, it's the day when much of the globe celebrates all things Irish by a) donning green and b) taking leave of their senses. Fair enough. As an Irish person, it's nice to see that the small island from which I hail is so widely/wildly celebrated, and I was very pleased that I could snag today's posting date to add to the acclaim.

Much has been written about Ireland's history, but not many people are aware of a history of Ireland that was written in the 12th century, Topographia Hiberniae, or The History and Topography of Ireland. It was written by Gerald of Wales, a cleric and chronicler at the court of England's Henry II. (In case anyone's disappointed, please be assured that there will be snakes.)

Topographia Hiberniae

Partly Anglo-Norman and partly Welsh and a member of the hugely powerful and successful fitzGerald family, Gerald wrote seventeen books and planned several others. He wrote the Topographia following two visits to Ireland in 1183 and 1185. It is a remarkable work, shedding light on many aspects of medieval Irish life and society. However, it is at all times Gerald's light, and Gerald was on the side of the conquerors. Bearing that in mind, let's look at the Ireland of 850 years ago from a man who was there.

The island of Ireland

Gerald divided his book into three parts. the first part he called The Position of Ireland. For the medievals, Ireland was the most westerly point in the world. Sorry, Americas, but there was simply nothing else. As Gerald so beautifully puts it: " Beyond these limits, there is no land, nor is there habitation either of men or beasts- but beyond the whole horizon only the ocean flows and is borne on in boundless space." He describes Ireland as about half the size of "greater Britain and ...more round."

Atlantic Ocean, Spanish Point Co. Clare, Ireland
© Copyright Angella Streluk http://www.geograph.ie/

Ireland's natural resources greatly impressed Gerald. He writes of rivers of magnificent size, with their "abundance of fish...beautiful lakes full of fish of magnificent size...a kind of speciality here." The fertile land and the mild temperatures, along with the ease with which grass could be grown also pleased Gerald: "The grass is green in the fields in winter, just the same as in summer." But like so many visitors to Ireland, Gerald quickly found out what made all that green in the first place: the Irish weather. (Or as we natives like to call it, the rain.) Gerald is not happy: "[The harvest] can scarcely be reaped...because of the unceasing rain. For this country more than any other suffers from storms of wind and rain... There is such a plentiful supply of rain, such an ever-present overhanging of clouds and fog, that you will scarcely see even in the summer three consecutive days of really fine weather." 

Lough Leane, Killarney, Co. Kerry
© Copyright Ian S  http://www.geograph.ie/

Gerald was cheerier about the plentiful supply of birds and the lack of mammals that would pose a threat to man. He even mentions snakes, (I did promise), or rather, lack of them. He assures us that "Ireland has no serpents or snakes, toads or frogs, tortoises or scorpions."  His readers will also have been relieved to know "It has no dragons." For those of you waiting to see if Gerald has the definitive answer on Saint Patrick and the snakes issue, Gerald provides one. But you may be disappointed: "Some indulge in the pleasant conjecture that Saint Patrick...purged the island of all harmful animals. But it is more probable that from the earliest times...the island was naturally without these as well as other things." 


The first part of the Topographia is a wonderful read, in that so much of it is recognizable as the Ireland that still exists. The second part is also remarkable but in a way that is less based in reality. In it, Gerald relates The Wonders and Miracles of Ireland.

Under Wonders, we have reports of a small island where corpses don't rot. A bearded woman with a mane on her back at the court of the King of Limerick. A priest who conversed at length with a wolf. A whale that was found with three gold teeth. Wonders, indeed, but the lake that was formed in a flood because the people were addicted to bestiality is probably the show stopper.

Wolves from a Medieval Bestiary

Moving swiftly onto Miracles, Gerald includes (among many others), the fleas banished by Saint Nannan, a cross in Dublin that speaks the truth and the inextinguishable fire of Saint Brigid. My personal favourite is The Mill that Women Do Not Enter. The mill in question was carved by Saint Féchín, and women weren't allowed in. But an archer of Hugh de Lacy (de Lacy was Henry's man) dragged a woman in "and lustfully violated her there."  Happily, according to Gerald, the archer was "stricken in his member with hell-fire in sudden vengeance and immediately began to burn throughout his whole body. He died that same night." Good for Saint Féchín, I say. 

Ruins of the 7th C St Féchín's church, Omey Island Galway, Ireland
© Copyright Oxana Maher http://www.geograph.ie/

The third part of the Topographia is where Gerald gets up close and extremely personal with the Irish people. Its title is The Inhabitants of the Country. One gets a sense of what is to come when he begins it by restating the legitimate claim that the kings of Britain have over Ireland. Following a brief mention of "beautiful, upright bodies and handsome and well-complexioned faces", there are positives no more.

Firstly, the Irish are "barbarous..and cannot be said to have any culture. they are a wild and inhospitable people...they live on beasts only and live like beasts." Secondly, they are lazy, "think that the greatest pleasure is not to work and that the greatest wealth is to enjoy liberty." Gerald really gets into his stride with the third national trait, which is incest: "This is a filthy people, wallowing in vice." Fourth has us always treacherous, and he warns "You must be more afraid of their wile than their war." The fifth is the tendency to "always carry an axe as if  it were a staff...beyond being raised a little, it inflicts a mortal blow."  

Ancient Irish Warriors- as imagined in the 1920s

If only it were some nifty axe-work we were accused of. Gerald has more. He cites the example of a new and outlandish way of confirming kingship by the Irish in Ulster (where he never went). A white mare is brought before the ruler, who has intercourse with the animal, slaughters it, then boils up the meat and has a bath in the broth, "quaffs and drinks of it...in which he is bathed...just dipping his mouth into it round about him." The Irish Church isn't spared either. Gerald despairs that all the Irish saints are "confessors and there is no martyr...to cement the foundation of the church with his blood, not a single one." 

Gerald ends by countering his earlier statements about handsome Irish people. Yes, there might be some. But he has never seen so many suffering from defects and "turn out in a horrible way."  What can the Irish expect? They are a people "that is adulterous, incestuous, unlawfully conceived and born, outside the law, and shamefully abusing nature herself in spiteful and horrible practices."

So positives no more, except for an unexpected section in the third part of the Topographia where Gerald acknowledges and praises the Irish as highly skilled and talented musicians. Mind you, even this is qualified with a statement that the Scots have probably overtaken them.

Irish Harp

What to make of the Topographia, with its praise for a country but its condemnation of a people? Well, as I remarked at the start of this post, Gerald was on the side of the invaders. And if you make those you seek to conquer less than civilized, less than human, then you have the sword of justification in your hand. It's a very powerful weapon and has never been sheathed for very long in human history. The history of Ireland is no exception. The Topographia records some sadly prescient words to that effect, attributed by Gerald to Tatheus, Archbishop of Cashel in Ireland.

The Rock of Cashel, seat of the medieval Archbishopric
Public Domain Courtesy of John Sullivan http://pdphoto.org/

Gerald was bemoaning  to Tatheus the fact that the Irish had never produced a martyr. Tatheus replied: "But now a people has come to the kingdom which knows how, and is accustomed, to make martyrs. From now on, Ireland will have its martyrs, just as other countries."

Reading them with the hindsight of eight centuries of Irish history, these words are heartbreaking. And what did Gerald make of them? They were, according to him, "sly." 

Cosgrove, Art, ed: A New History of Ireland Volume II, Medieval Ireland: Oxford University Press (2008)
Duffy, Seán: Ireland in the Middle Ages: Palgrave Macmillan (1997)
Gerald of Wales: The History and Topography of Ireland: Penguin Clasics (1982)
Otway-Ruthven, A.J.: A History of Medieval Ireland: Ernest Benn Limited (1968)

All images are public domain unless otherwise stated.

Note: I originally posted this article on English Historical Fiction Authors on March 17th 2015.

Medieval thrillers The Fifth Knight and The Blood of the Fifth Knight have been #1 Amazon bestsellers in the US, the UK and Australia. I'm working on the next novel in the series, Lord of Ireland, based on the Lord John's disastrous 1185 campaign in Ireland.
Find out more at www.empowell.com
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Saturday, February 14

Medieval Saints and Lovers

Medieval Saint Valentine
Public Domain
I write historical thrillers and have long had a fascination for all things medieval. One of the aspects of medieval life that has always intrigued me has been people’s devotion to saints. I’ve touched on other blog posts, where I looked at saints' relics.

Hang on a minute, I hear you say. This blog is for Valentine’s Day, for lovers. Should I be looking at preserved body parts here? I think not. But I would like (like our medieval forebears would have) to look at the saints that might appeal to us at this time when all thoughts turn to love. You might be surprised by the findings.

Let’s kick off with the saint who names the day. Saint Valentine himself. As with many saints, the origins of who he was (and there is evidence there may have been three saints) are vague. But don’t expect him to have been elevated to sainthood because of any kind of special involvement with lovers.

Valentine was a holy priest in third century who helped out persecuted early Christians. He was arrested and tried before the prefect of Rome. The prefect tried to make him renounce his faith but Valentine refused. The prefect ordered Valentine be beaten with clubs, which still didn’t make him change his mind. He was then beheaded. His execution took place on February 14, about the year 270. Interesting that the record is clear about the date being February 14, but a bit hazy about the year.
Alain Chartier
Edmund Blair-Leighton, 1903
Public Domain

This can be explained when we fast forward to medieval times.  The concept of courtly love with aloof, desirable women was hugely popular during this period. Troubadours celebrated these women through song and poems. In the fourteenth century, Geoffrey Chaucer brought the popularity of courtly love to new heights with his poem The Parlement of Fowles. 

This poem first introduced the idea of Valentine’s Day being a day for lovers. The Cour Amoreuse was founded in the French Medieval Court, supposedly in honour of women. It first met on Valentine’s Day in 1400, ruled over by a ‘Prince of Love’ who was a professional poet. Noble ladies heard various love-poems and presented prizes to the winners.  

But what’s interesting is that in the canon of Catholic saints, Saint Valentine isn’t the saint of wistful lovers in the throes of a new romance. He is the patron saint for those who have already found their perfect partner. 

The Angel Raphael
leaving the family of Tobias
Rembrandt, 1637
Public Domain

Being the patron for those seeking love actually belongs to the Archangel Raphael. Saint Raphael, according to legend, helped Tobias enter into marriage with Sarah, who had seen seven previous bridegrooms perish on the eve of their weddings. (That has to be a run of bad luck if there ever was one.) Saint Raphael is the patron saint for what is called happy encounters (how sweet!).

You could of course always try the Welsh Saint Dwynwen. She is the Welsh patron saint of love and friendship, who lived during the fifth Century and was one of the 24 daughters of King of Wales, Brychan Brycheiniog. (When I came across those statistics, I felt perhaps that Brychan should patron saint of something, but I wasn’t quite sure what).

© Copyright Robin Drayton

Dwynwen founded a convent on Llanddwyn, on the west coast of Anglesey, where she was joined by other broken-hearted women. After her death in 465AD, a well named after her became a place of pilgrimage and it remains there today.

There are also of course related saints: Saint Agnes, patron saint of virginity. Saint Anne, the patron saint of fertility and childbirth and Saint Gerard Majella, patron saint of motherhood, both good to call on when Saint Agnes has gone off duty. And of course, good old Saint Fotino, the patron saint of erectile dysfunction, who has a reassuring big white beard, but alas, I couldn't find a usable image.
St. Agnes
Caesare Dandini, 16th C
Public Domain
So, lovers of love, you are not restricted to just Valentine on February 14. You can take your pick of saints- just like the medievals did.

Friday, February 6

The Medieval Romances of Chrétien de Troyes

The Accolade
Edmund Blair Leighton, 1901
Public Domain
If I were to ask you if you knew the story of Sir Lancelot, then I suspect you would answer in the affirmative. Chain mail. One of King Arthur’s knights. Caused all sorts of bother with Guinevere. Yes, you know all about him. But if I were to ask you who Chrétien de Troyes was, you might not have such a ready answer. It might surprise you to know that he is the medieval writer credited with bringing the legend of said Sir Lancelot along with the other Arthurian legends into the genre known as romance. And of course, writing about a British king, Chrétien was French.

It is frustrating that we know very little of Chrétien’s life. He was writing between 1160 and 1172, and it is suggested that he had a position as herald-at-arms at the court of his patroness in the city of Troyes. His patroness was the Countess Marie de Champagne, daughter of Louis VII and Eleanor of Aquitaine. Familiar to us all will be the notion of Courtly Love: this was also a concept running through Chrétien’s work.

Marie played a major part in taking this romantic ideal and promoting it as fashionable behaviour. Devotion and courtesy featured, but so did adulterous love. It should be remembered that adultery was considered amongst the gravest of sins by the medieval church. But Marie’s influence, and perhaps that of her mother, created a surge of interest amongst European aristocracy. (One commentator describes her as ‘this celebrated feudal dame’, a description which, to my eternal regret, conjured up a medieval Mae West on first reading.)

The End of the Song
Edmund Blair Leighton, 1902
Public Domain

Chrétien wrote in Old French, rather than Latin. He composed at least five romances and two lyric poems. The word ‘romance’ also comes to us from this period. The Old French word romanz was first used in a literary sense to distinguish words written in vernacular French (romanz) from those in Latin.

So how did Chrétien happen on tales of King Arthur for inspiration? It would seem that Chrétien, like all good writers of historical fiction, liked a bit of a borrow from the past. Irish, Welsh and Breton legends have some mentions. Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia regum Britanniae, written in 1137, introduced the Arthurian legend to continental Europe.  This was a Latin history written in prose. Anglo-Norman poet Wace produced Roman de Brut in 1155, a version of the history now in French couplets.

King Arthur & the Knights of the Round Table
Michael Gantelet, 1472
Public Domain

Wace’s King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table (Wace’s is the first known mention of the Round Table; Chrétien has that for Camelot) were undoubtedly a more refined bunch than those written of previously. But they were still a group of fighters, rather than lovers. If his version were a historical novel, it would have swords and sandals on the cover, no question. It would take Chrétien to bring on the cover with the headless lady in the big dress.

In Chrétien’s romances we have knights riding out on adventures, fighting bravely against other warriors, monsters and magical creatures. And of course, the knights are also in pursuit of the love of their fair lady, often a love they lose, only to fight to get it back again. This latter storyline might be familiar to readers of the contemporary romance genre. But forget stereotypical images of swooning ladies.  Chrétien doesn’t hold with damsels in distress. His ladies can be just as courageous and daring as his knights. When one considers the powerful woman that was one of Chrétien’s patrons, along with other powerful female patrons, this is hardly surprising.

God Speed!
Edmund Blair Leighton, 1900
Public Domain

So what of the romances? First is Erec et Enide, with its straightforward tale of love, estrangement and reconciliation on an adventure-filled journey. It is set in Brittany and depicts King Arthur sitting on a throne emblazoned with a leopard. Such court scenes may have been inspired by Henry II’s  Christmas 1169  court at Nantes in Brittany.

Second is Cligès, which is written against the background of the Tristan and Iseut story. It is an adulterous tale in which Cligès falls in love with Fenice, his uncle’s wife. She feigns her death with a magic potion, so they can be together.

Third up is Lancelot, or The Knight with the Cart. By far the most famous romance of Chrétien’s, it is the first tale of the adulterous love between Lancelot and Queen Guinevere. Though she is cruel to him, he obeys her every command and wish. Readers may not be familiar with its name, The Knight with the Cart. It is so called because in his search for Guinevere, Lancelot rides in a cart meant for convicted criminals. He is concerned for his honour (albeit briefly), but she is very displeased that he would hesitate in his search for her.

The Parting of Sir Lancelot & Guinevere, 1874
Julie Margaret Cameron
Public Domain

Fourth is Perceval, a very lengthy yet not completed tale. Again, it introduces a story which has inspired so many, many more tales of searches and quests: the quest for the Grail.

Last, but by no means least, we have Yvain, or The Knight with the Lion. It is a spectacular romance and adventure, with a lion, a giant, a magic fountain and the widow who falls in love with Yvain, her husband’s killer.

In Time of Peril
Edmund Blair Leighton, 1903
Public Domain

Lancelot and Guinevere. The Grail. King Arthur. Camelot. Chivalrous knights. All part of the popular cultural imagination, thanks to Chrétien de Troyes. We may not know much about him. But my goodness: we know about his stories. We are still retelling them today.

De Troyes, Chretien: Arthurian Romances, Penguin Classics (1991)
Encyclopaedia Brittanica: Chrétien de Troyes
Jones, Terry & Eriera, Alan: Medieval Lives, BBC Books (2004)
Lindahl, C., McNamara, J & Lindow, J. (eds.): Medieval Folklore, Oxford University Press (2002)
Norton Anthology of English Literature: Chrétien de Troyes: www.norton.com
Weir, Alison: Eleanor of Aquitaine: By the Wrath of God, Queen of England, Vintage Books (2007)

Note: I originally posted this article on English Historical Fiction Authors on February 1st 2015.

The Fifth Knight and The Blood of the Fifth Knight have been #1 Amazon bestsellers in the US, the UK and Australia. Find out more at www.empowell.com.

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Friday, January 16

Medieval Medley

At the last Historical Novel Society Conference in London in September 2014, there was a highly entertaining panel on the theme My Era is Better than Yours. (if you want to enjoy it for yourself, here's the You Tube link.) Historical fiction writers represented a number of historical periods, arguing whose should be the favourite. The choice was put to audience vote, and the Georgians won. (Note: this might be simply because HNS delegates have a keen interest in gin and syphilis. We may never know for certain). The medieval period of course got my vote. It isn't the most popular for readers of historical fiction, but I think people are missing out. I believe it to be one of the most exciting, extraordinary and at times downright bizarre periods there is. So if you’re not yet a fan, let me give you a flavour in my Medieval Medley. You may change your mind!

Medieval Mail

© 2014 E.M. Powell 

Chain mail-wearing knights often get bad press among the reading public. I am personally a very big fan. There may be some eye-rolling at this as appealing dress from male readers who are possibly envisaging a wimpy Sir Lancelot type. Gentlemen, a suit of chain mail and padded armour weighs in at four stone, or fifty-six pounds. You develop a lot of core strength simply wearing it. Wimpy? I don’t think so.

Medieval Métier

There are jobs in medieval times that could never be described as pleasant but are a novelist’s gift. Many people will have heard of barber surgeons, the early doctors who consulted astrological charts and administered leeches to their patients. The job of leech collector is rarely mentioned. These unlucky folk simply waded bare-legged into reed-filled ponds inhabited by the slimy creatures and let the little suckers latch onto their legs. After the initial nipping bite, the leeches would do their work, swelling to five times their size after about twenty minutes. Bearing in mid the barber surgeons required large quantities of leeches, the job of leech collector must have been utterly foul. It would have been day in, day out, with the multiple bites often turning infected.

Public domain

Medieval Meal

There’s nothing like a medieval banquet for show-off food. When Catherine de Valois, wife of Henry V, was crowned in 1421, the feast was held during Lent and so could contain no meat. Yes, it had eels, salmon, trout, huge crabs and whelks. I can tell you’re unimpressed. But it also had ‘subtleties’: non-edible dishes that introduced each course. This feast included pelicans, panthers and a man riding on a tiger. Eat your heart out, Gordon Ramsey.

Public domain

Medieval Manor

The lords of the manor knew how to keep themselves in luxury. And they used colour to great effect when decorating their homes. The reconstruction of Edward I's bedchamber in the Medieval Palace at the Tower of London gives us such a wonderful example of this. It's decorated as it would looked when he stayed there in 1294.

© 2014 E.M. Powell 

Medieval Monasteries

The medieval period in England saw the construction of hundreds of magnificent monasteries, priories, abbeys and convents. So many were destroyed by Henry VIII's dissolution but even the ruins are still breathtaking. There aren't many words needed to win this argument. This picture of the ruins of  the 12th century Bolton Abbey say it all.

© 2014 Graham Mather - Private Collection
Used with permission

Medieval Madness

Christianity was of course the religion of Western Europe. It wasn’t just part of society: it was society. The fear of hell and of the Devil was very real. It’s the medieval period where we see the rise of sorcery, with many people genuinely believing in it as the Devil’s works and that people here on earth practised it. There are many colourful and bizarre accounts.

© 2014 E.M. Powell 

Pope Gregory IX, in his 1233 letter Vox in Rama, writes of gatherings of heretics who are engaging with the Devil, and indoctrinating a novice into their midst. The novice is met by 'a man of marvellous pallor, who has very black eyes...emaciated..and feels cold, like ice.' The man kisses the novice, and 'after the kiss, the memory of the catholic faith totally disappears from his heart.'  There is more kissing in the ceremony, involving a toad's tongue. And a cat's bottom. I did promise colour.

Medieval Murder

Every period in history has infamous murders. But the murder of Archbishop Thomas Becket in Canterbury Cathedral in 1170 has got to be one of the most well-known of all. It is also the most gruesomely shocking. Four knights, acting supposedly on the orders of King Henry II, broke into the cathedral on a late December evening and butchered Becket on the altar.

Monks witnessed the crime first hand and produced several blow-by-blow eye-witness accounts. The murder sent shock waves through though the whole of Europe. Becket was believed to be God’s representative on Earth. Miracles began to be attributed to the dead Archbishop immediately after the murder and he was canonized with great speed. Canterbury rapidly became one of the most popular destinations for pilgrims in the known world.

© 2014 Paul Fogarty - Private Collection
Used with permission

Medieval Marvels

So those are some of the highlights. I think you’ll agree that they give a flavour of why the medieval period is one of the most interesting, exciting and downright bizarre historical periods of all. For me, gin and syphilis are dull by comparison. Why not come and find out more? Oh, and if any medieval fans are reading this, feel free to add your favourite Medieval Marvel in the comments. We will prevail!

My latest novel, The Blood of The Fifth Knight, was published by Thomas & Mercer on 01.01.2015. An intricate medieval murder mystery, it has already reached #1 in Historical Fiction on Amazon.co.uk and is on worldwide release.

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Monday, December 29

The Murder of Thomas Becket

© 2014 E.M. Powell 
Midwinter in England can indeed be bleak. Iron-hard frosts, smothering snow, torrential rain and gales: all can sweep down on these short days where daylight is gone by mid-afternoon. But at day's close on the twenty-ninth of December 1170, an event occurred that stunned medieval England and all of Christendom. Archbishop Thomas Becket was brutally murdered by four knights in his own cathedral at Canterbury. The knights came to Canterbury following an outburst by Henry II, king of England and much of France. It was a tragedy that had been set in motion many years before.

My account of Becket's murder can be found on my post for English Historical Fiction Authors.

I'm also running a Giveaway for a signed copy of The Blood of the Fifth Knight this week on EHFA. Entries are open until January 04th 2015. Click HERE to enter. Good luck!

© 2014 Paul Fogarty

Thursday, December 11

Medieval Medley: Guest Interview with Charlene Newcomb

It's always really nice to welcome a guest to my blog and today I'm delighted to host Charlene Newcomb. Char is the author of Men of the Cross, a historical adventure set during the Third Crusade.  

It was designated a B.R.A.G. medallion honoree in November 2014. To celebrate Char's marvellous recent recognition, we thought we'd indulge our mutual love of all things medieval with a suitable medley!

Medieval Mate- who’s your hero/heroine?

Men of the Cross features two heroes. Henry de Grey is the son of a minor baron in 12th century Lincolnshire. Stephan l’Aigle has been fighting at King Richard’s side for five years. The two young knights have taken the Cross: Henry because he is passionate about the Pope’s call to retake Jerusalem from Saladin; and Stephan because of his sense of duty and loyalty to Richard. Henry is young, naive, inexperienced in battle. He has a disdain for politics. Oh, the things he will learn as he travels from Southampton to the Holy Land and back.

Medieval Métier- what would your job be?

A busy (quite fierce)
I would have been a lousy peasant. All those domestic chores have little interest to me and my family would starve - I do not have a green thumb. Surely I would have been a scribe or maybe a troubadour with the nine years piano & five years guitar lessons my parents paid for. Either of those jobs would have served as a front for my “real” job: I’d have been involved in routing secret messages and translating encrypted ones. Those years in the U.S. Navy as a communications technician/voice language analyst were useful. Currently I work as a librarian in electronic publishing and coordinate data gathering for external reporting about the collections of a large university library.

Medieval Manor - where do you live?

Char's workplace!
Somewhere...over the rainbow. Or you may know it as Kansas. It’s not all flat farmland if you’re only familiar with Dorothy’s Kansas. We have beautiful rolling hills and prairie here. We don’t have any castles to my knowledge, and certainly no remnants of structures dating back a thousand years. But I’ve long suspected I was fated to be here. The place I work looks like a castle.

However, I wanted to experience the real thing and have travelled to the UK numerous times. Thank goodness that was not via a medieval galley. (I was the Navy seaman accompanying four Army privates on a tour boat in Monterey Bay - guess who got seasick? Yours truly.) Oddly enough, I didn’t have to draw heavily on castle life for Men of the Cross. Many scenes take place in the army’s camps if not on a battlefield. The sequel, For King and Country, will feature Norman-style baronial homes and castles, including Nottingham where the climax occurs.

Medieval Meal- what’s on your table?

It is the Thanksgiving holiday as I’m working on this and I just had leftovers from Thursday’s feast. Our medieval friends would not know the turkey, that American bird. Potatoes? Ditto - brought to Europe by the Spaniards in the 1600s. I wonder if there was something akin to bread stuffing? Stews (or pottage) were often thickened with grain. Pottage might have peas or beans, garlic, onions, and herbs. Turnips, parsnips or carrots might have been used. Fish was plentiful, but meats weren’t consumed too often. Bread and cheese: now that I could live on!
Cooking depicted on the Bayeux Tapestry

When compared to a soldier’s fare on an extended march, a meal of pottage, bread and cheese might have been downright lavish. Contemporary chroniclers of the Third Crusade don’t mention food too often, except for near riots over horse meat or spoilage to meat and bread caused by harsh winter weather. The typical soldier’s diet included cheese, bread, dried or salted pork or bacon. The men often packed a 10-day supply. Knights’ provisions were carted by their squires or on wagons accompanying the army.

Medieval Madness- what behaviour could you never accept today?

The marriage of (the adult)
Marie de Brabant
This is more a custom than a behaviour: Arranged marriages and child brides. Like many a little girl, I dreamed of being a princess (and a rock star, but that’s a tale for another day). Fairy tale princesses in books, television and movies? That vision was shattered as I learned more about the lives of people my characters in Men of the Cross would know, or know of. I cannot imagine the young girls sent to live as wards in royal households when they were betrothed. Alys, half-sister of Philip of France, was betrothed to Richard and sent to live in England when she was eight; and Richard’s sister Joan (or Joanna as I call her in Men of the Cross), was sent to Sicily at the age of eleven to marry King William II. These girls may have been raised to expect this as their fates, but I’m glad this is a relic of the past in most cultures now.

A behaviour of the past that I find most heartbreaking was the criminalization of homosexuality, or sodomy as it was called in medieval times. By 1300, secular laws against sodomy existed throughout England and Europe, and of course the Church had penitentials in place for hundreds of years prior to that. However, as I posted on my blog recently (http://charlenenewcomb.com/2014/11/17/medieval-man-sex-and-mortal-sin-in-men-of-the-cross/), attitudes about and punishment of homosexual behaviour varied tremendously in the 12th century. Main character Stephan l’Aigle in Men of the Cross is gay; my protagonist Henry struggles with his feelings as his friendship with Stephan deepens. Don’t worry - no erotica contained herein - the novel is about the relationship, not the sex.

Medieval Military- what’s your weapon of choice?

Archer hunting deer
The pen may be mightier than the sword - sorry, I couldn’t resist - and I would say I’d take the blade if I wasn’t so partial to bow and arrow. Of course, sword and lance were the knights’ weapons of choice, though as squires these men would have trained to use the bow. It came in handy when hunting for sport. Axes and clubs were popular too. Robin Hood and his exploits with Richard the Lionheart via books and on the screen are a huge influence on my choice of weapon.

Men of the Cross includes a secondary character, a knight named Robin who is extraordinarily skilled with bow. Readers will learn of his humble origins and the girl he left behind - Marian. Teenaged camp-followers-turned-squires Allan and Little John were so much fun to write. They are wise beyond their years, and also provide a bit of comic relief. In my book blurb, I’ve referred to this as the seeds for a new Robin Hood legend. I’ll be expanding the origins story in Book II, For King and Country, and introducing other familiar figures from the legend.

Medieval Matters- why do you love it so much?

Blondel's Richard the
Lionheart (1841)
I think I am enamored by the ideals of chivalry, which probably started when I saw Disney’s Sword in the Stone as a young girl. By middle school I’d seen Camelot and then read T.H. White’s Once and Future King and became a fan of Arthurian legend. Honestly, I didn’t learn much medieval history in school with the exception of the Norman Conquest and Magna Carta. I recognized names like Richard the Lionheart and Saladin and King John. Television and movies brought them to my full attention. Being skeptical of dramatized versions, I turned to books - biographies, translations of primary sources, and non-fiction social histories, as well as other fiction - to learn more about the people (and not just the kings and queens) and their times. I know every era has an incredibly rich history, but the 12th century captivated me.

The wars were horrific, the politics insane - you cannot make up this stuff! - and not all knights were chivalric, but still, a story about knights going off to battle gave me an opportunity to indulge in my love for adventure in storytelling. If I might return to my Star Wars roots, “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far, away...”: historical fiction takes you to another time and place, albeit not one with X-Wings and star destroyers - a place I hope I can bring to life for readers.

As I'm sure you do, Char! Thanks so much for stopping by to obsess with me a little more about the fascinating medieval world.

Thank you for the opportunity to chat, E.M.!

Charlene Newcomb is the author of Men of the Cross, a tale of war’s impact on a young knight serving Richard the Lionheart and of forbidden love. Book 2, For King and Country, will be published in spring 2015.

For more information about Charlene, please visit her website, http://charlenenewcomb.com, find her on Facebook at CharleneNewcombAuthor, and on Twitter @charnewcomb.

Be sure to check out her special holiday offers and grab a bargain copy- ends December 25 2014!

The Blood of The Fifth Knight is published by Thomas & Mercer on 01.01.2015. You can pre-order it here on Amazon.com or here on Amazon.co.uk. Available to UK customers through Kindle First 1-31st December 2014!

Monday, November 24

Deleted Scene: The Blood of The Fifth Knight

As any writer knows, handing your manuscript over to an editor can be a daunting process. But it's also an incredibly exciting one. For this is the point where your novel cases to be something that is yours alone. There is now another creative mind at work, and one who works with a different skill set.

So it was when I submitted The Blood of The Fifth Knight to my publishers. The novel is the sequel to The Fifth Knight, which was a #1 Amazon bestselling historical thriller in both the US and the UK.  No pressure, you understand?

Crucially, your editor has what you, as the writer, can never have about your own work. And that, my friends, is distance. So while you might pride yourself as an ace editor, you will never have the advantage of not having written it in the first place.

Enter my wonderful developmental editor for The Blood of The Fifth Knight, Katie Green. Katie was extremely encouraging and complimentary (she called it a 'brilliant historical thriller'!). Such editorial feedback is, I can assure you, very easy to accept.

Yet in order to make a book better, an editor also has to suggest the dreaded deletions. Yes, those scenes, those chapters that you sweated so hard over. They need to get gone. And begone no matter how great they are. For while they might work as a piece, they need to fit in to the overall novel. So it was with the original second scene in my novel.

In the first scene, Sir Benedict Palmer is standing on the sweltering streets of Canterbury on 12 July 1174, watching King Henry II make his brutal public penance for the murder of Thomas Becket. (This was the last scene in The Fifth Knight).

Henry is in deep trouble. A rebellion led by his wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine, is on the cusp of victory. A key figure in the rebellion is Raoul de Faye, Eleanor's uncle and would-be suitor. Scene two was to have introduced us to de Faye, hiding out in London that day as he prepares for Henry's defeat.

Yet Katie felt that the scene (while a great scene) slowed the pacing and interrupted what was happening with the main characters. She also advised that it was probably a bit of a duplication with another scene. She was right. It had to go, with some of the aspects put into later scenes.

But of course de Faye didn't go. He's crucial to the whole book. And he's one of my bad guys, and I love my villains very, very much. So to get the love going for de Faye, and to get a peek into the world of The Blood of The Fifth Knight, here (for free!) is that deleted scene:


London, 12 July 1174

Raoul de Faye, Seneschal of Poitou, wiped the perspiration from his forehead and cursed London.
One would have thought this rented room high enough above the street to escape the stink. Yet the many and varied foul stenches drifted up and in here as sure as smoke.

He crossed to the small wooden window, propped open to allow a modicum of air. He leaned out to see if he could catch any glimpse of the messenger he expected. No sign of the man yet in the relentless, noise-filled surge of people, horses, carts, donkeys and oxen below. A farmer driving a dozen large pigs added newly to the barbarous crush.

Withdrawing inside in disgust, de Faye fastened up the window. Gloom descended in the wretched room. It would soon become stifling, but that would have to be borne. He liked heat. Or rather he liked clean heat, the heat of the countryside.

On a day such as this at his castle in Faye-le-Vineuse, south of Chinon, the air would be hot with scent, with growth. A breeze would travel the peaceful fields, birds soaring upon it. The roses in his courtyard would throw out their thick, sweet scent, with the grapes in his vineyard drawing it in, using it for their miraculous swell that would yield him his fine wines.

But London was not his beloved countryside across the water. London did not even have the finesse of the cauldron that was Paris. No, this city was a cesspit all of its own, a place to be endured rather than enjoyed.

He picked up a jug of ale from the rickety wooden table and poured himself a cup. Though the brackish liquid looked and smelled foul, the steadiness of his own hand pleased de Faye. Like the greatest of knights, he traveled amongst his enemies at great peril to himself, and remained unafraid.

As he drank a mouthful, the warm, yeasty liquid left a rancid residue on his tongue. He grimaced. How many hours had men spent making water and barley taste this bad? Better they had left them apart, though any water he’d seen in this rancid city would kill a wild ox stone dead. He took another draught.

Outside, the church bells rang for the office of None. Low ones, high ones, all in an orderly chime. Good. They were a portent, a portent that all his careful plans were coming to fruit. The messenger should not be long now.

The rebellion was proceeding exactly as he, the uncle of Queen Eleanor herself, had planned. In a matter of weeks, her churl of a husband, Henry, would be defeated. Then he, Raoul de Faye, could lay the kingdom at the feet of his niece, his love. She would see him for the heroic warrior he was, and his fifty-eight years on God’s earth would not matter to her. She would want him to rule by her side, would offer her bed and her body to him.

De Faye wiped the wet of the ale from his neatly trimmed beard. Troubadours would assemble at the court over which he and Eleanor would rule, to delight her in the melodic poems she loved and cultivated so much. Yet it would now be him they celebrated him in song for his victory: praising him as the courtly knight who had done this for his passion, his worship for his lady. His name would echo down the ages, just as it had for Arthur, for Lancelot. For Yvain.

A muffled knock came from the door. At last. To be expected but de Faye had to make sure. He had no business in this city. If the king’s men even got a sniff that he was here, he would be hauled from here and flayed alive.

De Faye raised his voice. “Whom do you seek?”
The answer: “Harpin.”
Harpin. The monstrous giant slain by the great knight, Yvain.  De Faye smiled to himself at his own choice of password and swung the door open.
The messenger stood there, the dust from the July road covering him like thick, brown snow.
“Pray come in.”
The messenger did so, accepting gratefully de Faye’s offered cup of beer.
“How does it proceed?” asked de Faye.
“Word from Norwich, my lord. Bigod’s troops are assembling. Victory is imminent.”
“As I thought. This is good, good news.” De Faye clasped his hands in satisfaction.

All to plan. His plan. Henry teetered at the edge of the precipice called defeat, about to take the long, hard fall that could only end in disgrace and death. De Faye had brought him there. The only response from the king? To whine and wobble about the streets of Canterbury, appealing to that dead traitor, Becket.

“Another drink, my man?”
The messenger nodded and held out his cup. “My thanks to you, my lord. I seem to have swallowed half the road.”

De Faye refilled, waited until the young man drank deep, head back, uncaring of anything except the liquid slaking his thirst.
Then with a quick sweep of his long, pointed dagger, de Faye opened the neck of the messenger, so fast the foul drink sprayed out with the hot blood.
The man crumpled to the rough floor planks, cup clattering from his hand. A swathe of crimson swamped the brown dust of his clothes.

De Faye collected his bag and swung his cloak around him. The young man had hardly been an opponent like the giant Harpin. Nonetheless, de Faye had vanquished him. But a shame. Good, discreet messengers were hard to find, took a long time to train. Yet they could leave a trail and de Faye couldn’t risk that with this one, not at this point in his campaign.

Like the great Yvain, his victory was in his grasp. Then Henry would pay, pay for his betrayal of Eleanor. Pay with his very life.

The Blood of The Fifth Knight is published by Thomas & Mercer on 01.01.2015. You can pre-order it here on Amazon.com or here on Amazon.co.uk. Available to UK customers through Kindle First 1-31st December 2014!