My Guest Today: Author Denise Domning Shares Longships!

Welcome historical romance author Denise Domning to the blog. Denise writes and raises pigs and sheep on her farm in Northern Arizona.  Her latest book Awaken the Sleeping Heart, the first full length novel in her new "Children of Graistan" series, is set in 13th Century England and Ireland, and includes a trip across the Irish Sea in a Snekke. 

Today she is sharing with us England’s first naval victory and the mode of transportation in the 13^th century.  

Be sure and comment and leave your email so we can find you! Denise is giving away a copy of her new book!

 

England’s First Naval Victory: The Longship

Until I started my latest book, Awaken the Sleeping Heart, none of my stories ever left the shores of England. My previous heroes were men who tended to stay put, guarding their fief from all comers, riding out on a destrier or a courser (never a palfrey), dressed in chain mail and carrying a broadsword.

Of course this wasn’t exactly how life was, even for my staid heroes. In a world organized along the lines of personal allegiances, the key to holding onto your properties was to visit frequently. All noblemen, and even lowly knights, were men constantly on the move, and a horse wasn’t their only mode of transport. In the case of many Anglo-Norman noblemen, this meant getting into a boat and crossing a sea. But what boat? 

The Longship, of course. This is the same vessel previously used by the Vikings, and is still the fastest way to go from shore to shore in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries. Low to the waves and sleek, with a big square central sail and benches fitted out for up to sixty rowers, this ship remains the Dreadnought of the seas.  Think “Lion in Winter” and the scene where Eleanor, having been freed from Salisbury Keep for a Christmas court, is being rowed upriver to Chignon. Although it looks to me that she’s traveling in a Snekke, the Longship’s smaller cousin.

As for England’s first naval victory, that win lies squarely on the shoulders of an unexpected hero, King John’s younger bastard half-brother, William Longèspee, the earl of Salisbury. William, who was unusually tall and earned his cognomen from the length of the sword he carries, is the illegitimate son of Ida de Tosny and Henry II. Needless to say, he did not start out his life as a sailor. He is, however, completely devoted to his elder half-brother and will do everything he can to support John. And that’s what turns him into England’s first admiral.

By 1213 John really needs his brother’s support. Since taking the English throne in 1199 the last son of Henry II has had nothing but trouble. First, his nephew Arthur of Brittany, the son of his elder brother Geoffrey, tried to claim England’s throne. It was a potent threat because primogeniture—oldest living son of the father takes the estate—isn’t yet legally established. There were more than a few men who thought Arthur had the better claim. For the record, Arthur accidentally drowned in a boating accident while his Uncle John was visiting. Whoops.

Meanwhile, King Philip of France has driven John out of Normandy, forcing those Anglo-Norman barons, including William Marshal, who yet have estates in Normandy to swear allegiance to him. And the barons of Poitou and the Aquitaine have flat out betrayed John, taking Philip as their new liege lord. Worst of all John had a years long spat with Pope Innocent III over naming the archbishop of Canterbury. To show England’s king just who he’s dealing with, the Holy Father put England under Interdict —forbidding priests from performing last rites, baptisms, and marriages—and excommunicated John. The religious situation has fed the muted rumblings of rebellion from John’s English subjects. Add a recent assassination attempt and Philip’s threat to invade England and you can see that John’s not having a good year.

Here lies William Longèspee

It’s the threat of an invasion that has William Longèspee, now viceroy of Ireland, either building or recruiting ships. He and his royal brother are determined to prevent that invasion by crossing the Channel and retaking Normandy, thus tying Philip to the Continent. It’s a reverse Norman Conquest if you will.

Although William certainly wasn’t born a seaman, I like to think he became one during this period. By May of 1213 his new fleet of around 500 ships gathers on the English side of the Channel in preparation for the crossing, but John dithers. The king is torn between keeping the fleet between Philip and England or sending his longships and the 700 knights they carry to aid the count of Flanders, whom Philip is harassing as he prepares to launch his invasion of England.

The decision is made on May 28, 2013 and the fleet launches for Flanders. Two days later they enter the mouth of the River Zywn where they find a huge French armada, some 1700 ships. But there’s no one on them. Philip has taken all of his army to destroy the city of Ghent. The English are no fools. They immediately pillage the French fleet.

All the ships are laden with both supplies—food and armaments—and the personal belongings of the French army. That includes things like spare swords or helmets or chain mail, all very expensive items. Once they’ve cleaned out the longships, the men of William’s fleet seize 300 of those ships for themselves, set fire to another hundred or so, then set sail for England, laughing all the way home.

Indeed, every man among them was made wealthy by the riches of the French, so wealthy that William Marshal’s biographer notes that “never had so much treasure come into England since the days of King Arthur”.

Knights on the sea. It wasn’t something I ever thought I’d write about, but don’t we all go where the tide takes us?

AN ANCIENT PROMISE OF MARRIAGE,
A WEALTHY WIDOW STOLEN BY A POOR KNIGHT,
AND A KING DETERMINED TO KEEP THEM APART 

Stephen de Brazdifer sails from Ireland for England, seeking the bride promised to him by an ancient royal writ. But he’s too late. King John has already claimed the rich widow as his royal ward, wanting to cheat a man he dislikes, and keep her wealth for himself. If Stephen is to have his promised wife, he’ll have to steal her from his monarch.

For all her life Cecilia de Gradinton has cursed her wealth and beauty for the freedom they cost her. Now, newly widowed, with all hope of home and happiness gone, she rides toward her new prison under royal escort. But more than one deadly danger stalks her on the road to King John’s court.

Buy it on Amazon. 

Keep up with Denise on her Website and Facebook.

Chivalry and Medieval Romance by Regan Walker

Medieval romance has been around for centuries. The love story of King Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere, as memorialized in Lancelot, le Chevalier de la Charrette, an Old French poem written in the 12th century, and Wagner's composition of Tristan und Isolde are classics we never tire of. And, many of us read Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott, set in 12^th century England, when we were in school. It might surprise you to know that romance writing developed in Britain after the Norman Conquest and flourished right through the Middle Ages.

Why do we love to read about that time when knights battled for their king and ladies swooned at their victories? Perhaps it is the notion of chivalry, a valuing of womanhood and virtues such as truth, honor and valor. A knight who rises to duty, and the maiden who would take her place at his side. In Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales, he describes a knight as being distinguished in truth, honor, generosity and courtesy, who is both wise and modest. A nobility of spirit, not just a nobility of title and lands.

 

In the eleventh century, knights were the social elite. They were the sons of wealthy landowning families, and they ruled the countryside by force. The knights who followed William to England were often younger sons, hoping to gain lands by their sword.

Knowing of the raping and pillaging that occurred in England after the Conquest, I wondered, what happened to notions of chivalry? So in doing my research for my medieval romance, The Red Wolf’s Prize, one of the things that I wanted to look at was this question.

Since clergy played a part in knighting a man, by blessing his sword, chivalry definitely had religious aspects. However, the clergy required knights to vow to only protect the weak, such as widows, orphans, children, and of course, the church. The hundreds of knights who left Normandy with William in October of 1066 stopped at the church at Dives-sur-Mer, Normandy where they said mass before setting sail to invade England. You can see the list of knights here: http://www.robertsewell.ca/dives.html. If you’ve read The Red Wolf’s Prize, you will recognize some of the names, as they are characters in my story.

Though the Church opposed war in general, it was forced to deal with it, in the end tolerating it, even sanctioning “righteous” wars. Hence, Pope Alexander II gave his blessing and his sanction to William’s invasion of England. But the faith of the knights whose swords the Church blessed did not, in all cases, behave as they should. 

The Code of Chivalry spoke of living one’s life not only to defend Crown and Country but to live in a manner worthy of respect and honor, to protect the innocent and to respect women. However, knights rose in the eyes of their sovereign based on how ruthless and successful they were in battle. Hence, the Red Wolf, the hero in my story, gains a reputation for being invincible while fighting at William’s side. It is not hard to see how such men might be tempted to step over the line and take advantage of the conquered. Many did. Thus, while the knights might pay respect to highborn ladies, not all of them afforded the same respect to servants, peasant women and other men’s wives, especially in the midst of war. A maiden of low birth might fear an armed knight as much or more than another man.

Beginning in the 11th Century, love became an essential part of the Code of Chivalry, expressed in social life, and literature. Knighthood became more than a matter of war and feudal dependence; it became romantic. The tournament was a main part of the lives of knights, and the laws and customs of the tournament were inseparable from the love of ladies. Much of the knight’s leisure time was spent in hunting, and the practice field, but also in music, and exercising gallantry and poetry. The chivalric literature, whether its note was that of love or of deeds of arms, shows that the laws of gallantry were as important as those of military honor.

One can hope that chivalry ultimately encouraged a nobility of spirit. In The Red Wolf’s Prize, for perhaps a different reason, the Red Wolf tolerated no acts of rape among his men, though not all of William the Conqueror’s knights behaved so nobly.

THE RED WOLF'S PRIZE

HE WOULD NOT BE DENIED HIS PRIZE 

Sir Renaud de Pierrepont, the Norman knight known as the Red Wolf for the beast he slayed with his bare hands, hoped to gain lands with his sword. A year after the Conquest, King William rewards his favored knight with Talisand, the lands of an English thegn slain at Hastings, and orders him to wed Lady Serena, the heiress that goes with them. 

SHE WOULD LOVE HIM AGAINST HER WILL 

Serena wants nothing to do with the fierce warrior to whom she has been unwillingly given, the knight who may have killed her father. When she learns the Red Wolf is coming to claim her, she dyes her flaxen hair brown and flees, disguised as a servant, determined to one day regain her lands. But her escape goes awry and she is brought back to live among her people, though not unnoticed by the new Norman lord. 

Deprived of his promised bride, the Red Wolf turns his attention to the comely servant girl hoping to woo her to his bed. But the wench resists, claiming she hates all Normans.
As the passion between them rises, Serena wonders, can she deny the Norman her body? Or her heart? 

Buy on Amazon.