Tuesday, May 14

Tuesday Talk Guest Post : Three Kings One Throne


As part of his Blog Tour to celebrate the release of 
Three Kings One Thron
author Michael Wills has shared his thoughts on....

The Days of Wooden Ships and Iron Men

Thank you, Helen, for inviting me to contribute a post to your blog. I thought that I would air some ideas about the physical prowess we expect of the characters in our novels. What do I mean by this? Well, my novels rely on plenty of action and sometimes involve pushing my characters to extremes of physical endurance. When I am writing an action scene I find myself wondering whether the physical effort required of my subject to achieve whatever I am writing about, is really within the realms of possibility. We are all writing fiction, but generally in non-fantasy historical fiction, the reader has to be able to believe in the credibility of the story. For example, is a particular feat of arms, or an extreme physical feat realistically achievable? To make that judgement we perhaps subliminally consider whether a well trained, well built individual could do the same thing today. In the case of my novel, Three Kings – One Throne, I was writing about warriors in the eleventh century. I reasoned that surely a thousand years of human evolution cannot have significantly changed the physical characteristics or abilities of the average man or woman.

But is this so?

Consider the outstanding “yomp[1]” which British Marines made on the Falkland Islands in 1982, from San Carlos. They walked 56 miles in three days carrying 80lb loads, and then fought a battle. (An average of 19 miles a day). This physical achievement is rightly considered to be truly historic. And yet, a little more than 900 years earlier a column of marching men, also carrying loads, though of unspecified weight, journeyed from London to Stamford, around 220 miles. They did it in a maximum of six days. (An average of 37 miles a day).

I make this comparison not in any way to belittle the courageous achievement of the Marines. I want to use this illustration to suggest that our ancestors really could achieve physical performance which today is unrealistic. Yes, you could argue that trained athletes could easily outperform the soldiers who followed King Harold’s Fighting Man banner in 1066 on his forced march north. But a large proportion of Harold’s troops were fyrdsmen, not trained warriors. They were farmers, fishermen and merchants, performing their required annual duty to their king.
As a young teacher I was once foolish enough to agree to join some of my pupils in the Kent Messenger 50 mile walk. Apart from being physically fit, (in those halcyon days before my spare tyre appeared, my second teaching subject was P.E.), I was acutely aware on the long walk of three other vital factors. These most important things were nourishment, weather and footwear. Food and drink was provided at regular intervals, we walked at night to avoid the heat and I had excellent walking boots. And by the way, I was not carrying anything. Yet when I arrived at the finish after twelve hours, I was good for nothing apart from a very long rest. I have to be honest and relate that two of my pupils finished before me, they were both asleep on the grass verge when I crossed the line.

A well-shod modern soldier can expect to be provided with a calorie intake of around 3,500 per day. For men and women on strenuous duties, British and American Army regulations state that between 4000 and 5000 calories a day are to be provided. What of King Harold’s army of fifteen thousand men marching with the burden of their weapons and equipment, wearing simple unsprung leather shoes or boots? Would they have been provided with sufficient food of a quality which could have given such daily nourishment?  It seems very doubtful. Yet, when this weary army reached Stamford they fought like tigers in a tremendously physically exhausting battle, on a hot day.

Shortly after, the survivors of the battle had to march back to London or wherever their homes were. And then, within three weeks, many of them made a second forced march, this time in wet conditions, to their deaths at Hastings.

Senlac Hill
 (where the English formed their Shield Wall)
There are of course many other historical examples of extraordinary physical feats. But it seems that they were, to the people involved at the time, no more than a normal part of a warrior’s occupation. An example in my book is when, in 1031, Prince Jaroslav in Novgorod ordered his army of Varangian mercenaries to launch an attack on the Læsir, (Poles). The warriors  travelled 150 miles by boat and then marched the final 420 miles over rough terrain at an average of 20 miles a day. They then fought a series of hard battles before embarking on the return journey.

What of the battles themselves? I was quite surprised when I first watched a re-enactment Viking battle. It was so pedestrian! Propaganda has it that the Vikings leapt from their ships and sprinted up the beaches to raid their victims. I challenge anyone to leap into waist deep water carrying a heavy shield and sword, and then to try running. Yes, if the Vikings were lucky they might find that there was a sandy sea bottom to stand on, but more likely a stony or very muddy one. Incidentally, anyone who has spent several days at sea and then immediately tries to run on land is likely to fall over; it takes a while to correct your balance.

However, when battle commenced it was a long hard slogging match which demanded super-human effort. Apart from the use of bows and arrows as a prelude to hand to hand fighting, men wielded swords and axes for hours on end. They smashed and bashed at each other’s shields seeking to weaken their opponents. There was no chivalry; a fighter was as likely to get an axe in the back as a spear in the front. The effort was simply enormous and for those who were lucky enough to survive at the end of the battle, there could have been few with no wounds.

So what do I conclude? Everything I read about soldiers of the Middle Ages leads me to believe that we, as authors, are on generally safe ground when we portray our characters as being as physically capable as well nourished, medically fit modern man. Indeed, if anything, the people we write about were fitter, tougher and much more resilient than we are today. And forget the image of a muscle bound, sword wielding warrior, so loved by designers of historical novel front covers, your average Middle Ages soldier was just that, an average person of his time. The short, the tall, the thin, the pinch faced and the double chin.

So I have allayed my worry that I was being unrealistic in my novel Finn’s Fate, when I described a winter journey, north of the Arctic Circle, by three brothers before they were conscripted as Vikings. And I have stilled my concern that the even more momentous travels and battles of the last of the Viking and Anglo Saxon kings, as told in Three Kings – One Throne, really did happen. For many of the true feats of our ancestors are incredibly exciting, exacting and really almost beyond belief.


[1] Yomp – Your own marching pace

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Helen says:
Interesting post Mike, as authors we can only do our best to imagine what things were like in the past - and double our best to attempt to be as accurate as possible.  I would assume that Medieval Man (or woman *laugh*) was used to walking, far more than we are now, because we've grown used to the car, bus, train, bike. I recall walking two miles to school (on my own) when I was 9 years old. There are many of the generation before me who walked much further every day, in every weather, to school and back. Now it would be unthinkable for a child to walk more than half a mile to school (and never alone!) There are countless stories of young men between WWI and WWII (and shortly after) who walked or rode their bikes miles every evening to see their "sweetheart". I do think we are somewhat softer now!
Many of my readers know that I have my own novel relating to the year 1066 and I did extensive research to write it. May I mention...

Harold did not march all the way north to Stamford Bridge with a complete army. He only took his "regulars" the official, full-time army - his Huscarls. He was joined on his way north by the Fyrds of the areas he passed through i.e. Cambridgeshire, Huntingdonshire, Leicestershire, Lincolnshire... so the "ordinary" men did not march the entire distance, and the huscarls were very probably mounted - it is also possible that these men fought on horseback at Stamford Bridge (apparently many horseshoes were found on what is believed to be the battle site). Then of course, the fyrdsmen went back to their homes, and the huscarls and Harold rode back to London. Which resulted in the horses being too tired/lame etc to use against Duke William. And yes, Harold and his standing army were perfectly capable of fighting on horseback. Harold bred his own horses (one of his studs was at Crowhurst in Sussex, near Battle)
When the call came to meet at the hoar apple tree, several miles from Hastings, it was the southern Fyrd who were called out (although it is very probable that men from the north did decide to accompany Harold south - again, those with horses to ride). So Essex, Kent, Sussex, Hampshire, Surrey, Wessex, Devon were the men called to fight in October 1066, not those from the north - although many of them did march with Harold, and many more came down as soon as they could - but by then, it was too late...


The field at Battle
(photo courtesy Alison King)


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Thursday, May 9

Tuesday, April 30

My Tuesday Talk Guest - Cynthia Haggard



As I am no longer running my Guest Blog (I don't have the time to keep it updated) I thought I would invite interesting people to contribute to my Tuesday Talk slot.

The approaching date, May 3rd, is the birth-date of Cecylee Neville, mother of Edward IV and Richard III, Cynthia Haggard, author of Thwarted Queen offered to write a bit about this fascinating woman...



the fascination of Cecylee Neville
by Cynthia Haggard

I live in Washington D.C., a mile from the White House, but my passion for the past was triggered by the fact that I grew up in England, which is filled with history.  I remember trips to St. Albans and Bath to see Roman ruins, and I remember struggling up various spiral stairs in castles. Ruined abbeys are also a part of the landscape. So it was all around me. I used to stand and look at the beautiful English countryside and imagine people from the past. It was easy to do.

I was attracted to the Middle Ages because it is presented as a very romantic period, full of knights and fair ladies. It seems glamorous and very civilized. It is also interesting that illustrations for Fairy Tales often use the costumes from the 15th century, the period of Cecylee Neville’s life. So it has a lot to it that initially, I found very attractive.

I was inspired to write about Cecylee by watching a BBC program about the princes in the Tower. The presenter, Tony Robinson, casually mentioned that historian Michael K. Jones had discovered some evidence that Edward IV of England was illegitimate. The evidence was that Cecylee’s husband, Richard Duke of York was not around in July-August 1441 when Edward would have been conceived. (He was born April 28, 1442). My immediate question was, what on earth did Cecylee say to her husband, when he returned from his summer campaign of fighting the French?

I have four favorite scenes in THWARTED QUEEN. There is the scene where Richard discovers that Cecylee has been unfaithful. The scene where Cecylee tells her son Edward IV that she does not support his marriage to Elisabeth Woodville. Then there are two crowd scenes, the one where Duke Humphrey dishes about the new queen of England, and how she brought no dowry to her marriage, and the one where Warwick the Kingmaker tells everyone that the Queen’s son is illegitimate. I loved these scenes because there was a lot of scope for conflict.

Warwick held up his hand and waited for silence.
“The king has not acknowledged the child as his son,” he said slowly. “And furthermore, he never will.”
There was a sudden intake of breath.
“It’s true!” exclaimed a young woman, holding a twig basket that held a dried up turnip, a withered carrot, and some wilted sprigs of rosemary. Her high voice sailed over the noises from the crowd. As people turned to stare, she went bright pink.
“Holy Mary, Mother of Christ!” she exclaimed, blushing again as she crossed herself.
“Indeed, madam,” said Warwick, stepping down from the cross, bowing, and offering her one of his cups of ale. “You put it well.” He turned to the crowd as he remounted the steps of the cross.
“It is very shocking, is it not, that a crowned Queen of England, a queen anointed by holy oil, would stop at nothing to gain power? That such a queen, invested in spiritual power by the Archbishop of Canterbury, would lie to us? That she would stoop so low as to foist her bastard on us? What does she think we are, good people? Stupid?”
The crowd roared with laughter.

In addition to Cecylee (who was, of course, my favorite character) I loved writing about the maids, Audrey and Jenet, because they were lower-class people whom the aristocrats of the day would typically ignore. Yet they were the eyes of ears of the Neville family. By that I mean that Audrey would have known all of Countess Joan's secrets, and Jenet would know all of Cecylee's, because they saw their ladies several times a day to bathe them, dress their hair and array them in their finery.

I became very fond of Richard of York (Cecylee’s husband) and his son Richard of Gloucester (who later became Richard III). Elisabeth Woodville was always enjoyable to write about, because she had such an effect on everyone. And I enjoyed writing about Richard’s sister Isabel.
As an historical novelist, I have to be both a writer and a researcher. I find that one feeds the other. If I’m in the middle of writing something and I need to do a piece of research, I either mark the place in the text with Xs, or I look it up right away. I often find that research sparks my imagination, so it’s not a problem for me.

When I was writing THWARTED QUEEN, I was most influenced by Michael K. Jones THE PSYCHOLOGY OF BATTLE, which gives a completely different take on the family dynamics of the Yorks. And Alison Weir’s books, THE WARS OF THE ROSES and THE PRINCES IN THE TOWER.

I was brought up in a musical environment, so I’m very particular about what I listen to when I’m writing. When I was writing Cecylee, I was either listening to Hildegard of Bingen, or all those Anonymous 4 recordings of medieval music, sung a cappella by female voices.

When I work on my novels, I don’t adhere to one set timetable of work. For me, it really depends on what’s going on. Generally, I work in starts and spurts. Initially, I write down whatever’s occupying my mind. By the time I get to the last draft, I’m usually working to a deadline, so in that case I work every day, sometimes for 6-9 hours.

I really have to have my place to write. It’s too disorienting otherwise. I don’t really like working outside my home, I find cafes too distracting. I’m happiest when I’m in my spot that I’ve designated as my writing place.

When working on a novel, I do a certain amount of planning, but I’m not one of those writers who plans everything out, because I just find it too boring if I know everything that’s going to happen in advance. The magic of writing for me comes in the process of discovering what’s going to happen to my characters.

When I start a new novel, I usually have an idea, which I scribble down. Then I may wait a long time before I actually start writing. During that time, I’ll do a lot of reading and develop it. At some point, I feel that I have enough head of steam to start. In that first draft, I just write down whatever’s on my mind. I find that first draft really hard work. I’m a writer who really enjoys re-writing.

As someone who’s had a career in neuro- and cognitive science, I find myself applying my knowledge to my novels. Cecylee is about how timing is really the controlling variable in finding one’s suitor. (Richard of York is on a much slower clock than Blaybourne, who is as fast as the quicksilver Cecylee). In another novel I’ve just finished, titled AN UNSUITABLE SUITOR, I talk about how shopping lists of attributes, such as income, or interests don’t work. That what really works are the ineffable qualities, all that information that comes in to you literally under your nose, that most people don’t notice. This is what people mean, I think, when they talk about following the dictates of your heart.



Helen: Thank you Cynthia - interesting and enjoyable.
For a little extra, Cynthia appeared as a guest on my Guest Blog



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all Cynthia's books are available online









Monday, April 29

River Torridge - Research Notes (2)

Research Notes for Ripples In the Sand
The River Torridge - Devon

I've written the scene where Jesamiah has to get across from one side of the river Torridge estuary, in Devon, to the other (will await my editor's red pen with fingers crossed).

The River Torridge at Northam (below Knapp House)
 looking across to the Instow side

Jesamiah is at Northam (next door to Appledore) he is trying to speak to Squire John Benson about selling his cargo of tobacco, but Sir John isn't at home, he is at his daughter's - across the river at Instow.
What I've been trying to find out is how wide is the river channel at low tide - 5 yards, 10 yards, 50 yards? 
Could Jesamiah just walk across, or would he need to use a boat? 
I've seen the river at low tide, but I can't bloomin' remember how wide it was (and anyway I'm hopeless with distances) 
I also have to take into account that the river Torridge was very different back in 1719. Bideford (upriver by about 3 miles) was a busy port (the third largest tobacco port in England) There was also a thriving lime and pottery industry as well as fishing. The river was nowhere near as silted up as it is now, with, presumably quite a deep channel, even at low tide, back then. At low tide boats would not hgave been able to sail upriver - but could smaller vessels be warped (towed) up I wonder?

You can see the river channel clearer here
(behind the larger boats)
I tweeted asking if anyone from the Bideford, Appledore, Instow or Nth Devon Area could help. 
Thank you to those who responded.
One lady (Amanda) said she had walked across, but I've now managed to get hold of my Editor (who lives at Instow) she says:

"I’ve never tried to get across, my guess would be 2m wide at the narrowest point – but in the 18th Cent. the rivers were not as silted up as they are now. There is also the hazard of soft, sinking sand/mud and some who have tried to get across from time to time have got stuck and had to be rescued. Even the amphibious vehicle they used to ferry tourists across a couple of years ago (one of those things like the army has, with wheels but it floats) sank in the mud and was stranded until high tide when it had to be winched out! It stopped running thereafter – went out of business!
However, having said all that, I am fairly sure Jesamiah would be able to wade across the channel at very low tide, maybe up to his knees, and that it might be easier than lugging a boat across the mud to the channel, but he would certainly  get wet and sink in the soft mud on the Instow side!
 It is deceptive; at low tide: it looks as if you could get across in one leap, but I don’t think you can or far more people would. You might find the following link useful. "



The Taw-Torridge Estuaries: 
Geomorphology and Management  Report 

http://www.ndascag.org/TawTorridgeFinalReport.pdf
(anyone interested in Geomorpholgy or the way rivers/esturies etc change will find the above interesting. I've had a quick read - totally bewildered by all the technical jargon, but interesting!


I agree with my editor that it wouldn't be worth lugging a boat out across the mud to get across (especially this particular boat!)

but I'm certain they would have had a ferry on permanent use by a waterman (as did most rivers) Otherwise its about 3 miles upstream to get to the first bridge (at Bideford) then three miles back again on the Instow side. I can't see a fishing/sailing community not using a ferry!

I'm also fairly certain they laid boards across the mud from the shore to the water channel where the ferry waited, moving the boards and the boat as the tide rose and fell.

Looking across to Instow
 The large white building (top left) would not
have been there in Jesamiah's day.
Appledore is literally just round the corner.


So now I'll get back to work. Jesamiah has still got that tobacco to sell....

There are some more photos of the real places used in the Sea Witch Voyages here...
Scroll down to the bottom for more views of Appledore, Instow, Bideford and Knapp House