Historical Fiction Fun: The Blue Door: 1191 A. D.

Did she really fall off the stupid horse? It felt like she had fallen off a rooftop.  Slowly, she got up off the ground.  It wasn’t the ground she was riding across a while ago. Something was different; the whole area was different. Thick trees, and lush grass surrounded her and it was dead quiet. 

 

“No. It couldn’t be…” She whispered to herself, as she slowly got up and brushed the grass and pine needles off her clothing.  She then remembered.  She had left the door open… and it was a full moon.  She spotted the warhorse a few yards over, happily grazing. She whistled to him and he came trotting up to her. 

“Well boy, where ever we are; we best go find someone who can find your master.” She said as she climbed up on him. She definitely wasn’t anywhere near home. Where, she did not know exactly yet. To her fascination, some how the stupid blue door still worked even with her just in her backyard. It bewildered her.

She found a path and diligently kept to it, yet the more they rode down it, the longer it seemed to go. Animals seemed to hop or leap out of nowhere as the trotted along. Her steed wasn’t even bothered. They came to a crossing in the road. There was a sign, she couldn’t read it. It was in a language very not familiar to her, she decided to go to the right, as the path looked more traveled that direction. Perhaps there was a town or something up above. She only hoped.

They rounded a bend in the road and she came upon a familiar sight.  A church. The church looked like the one in the village that she lived in or just moved to. But something about the little church was vaguely different. It was actually busy and it seemed a bit more new, or in much better keep. She rode the horse up to what looked like a hitching post and jumped off. She felt bad tying him by the reins, but that was all she had. She had always been told that was a no no in the back home in California… but she had nothing else to secure the horse with.  She hope he minded his manners. There were a few people tending the church garden, they all seemed to stop and do what they were doing once they saw her making her way towards the church. As she walked she studied their clothes and quiet quickly realized, this was not home, or time, or even close.  Most definitely the Middle Ages, actually quite early Middle Ages by looking at the gardeners clothes. There was nothing elaborate about their modest outfits and they actually seemed to look at her in fear. A thought raced across her mind, she soon dismissed it and kept walking to the big large wooden doors. 

She pushed open the doors, they were quiet heavy.  To her surprise there was a group of nun’s praying at the front of the church. She stopped in her footsteps in astonishment. One of the nuns stood up. Her clothing was a bit more regal than the rest. She spun around and dropped her rosary. 

“His Holiness, what have you brought to our church?” She looked Clarise up and down and gasped.

“A witch…” She gasped as she held her hand over her mouth in shock.

Clarise didn’t know what to say or do. She stood frozen in the isle. Just what she needed… to be called a witch and all she did was walk in to a church. But in modern clothing. This was going to be interesting. 

The head mistress or prioress swiftly grabbed Clarise by the arm and started to haul her out of the small church. Her grip was tight.

“Please, I am looking for someone…I am not a witch.” she said in slight panic, pleading with her accuser. 

“Witch or no witch dear, you are frightening my sisters and we must see to it. We have never seen the likes of you and it is quite out of the ordinary.” She said curtly.  Clarise wasn’t exactly thrilled.

“Where are you taking me? I am looking for someone; he left his horse at my cottage. Sir Mortimer... Ugh, let go of me!” Clarise stood her ground and pulled away from the prioress as hard as she could and fell backwards loosing her balance and falling to the hard stone floor.  The prioress stood still for a moment gazing down at her. 

“Sir Mortimer? How do you know him?  He is back from crusade?” She asked as Clarise slowly got up and faced her.

“Crusade? What crusade? Please don’t tell me… what year is it?” She asked out of curiosity.

“The year of our Lord 1191. The Pope has called crusade. Many have gone, many have not come back. This will be good news for his father. He has quite missed him. His dear wife died a few years back; he has been very lonely since.  Please follow me.” 

The prioress’s voice changed and was now more civil and a bit more welcoming. Clarise thought maybe she was in the clear and wasn’t going to be lynched, as she followed the prioress to the back of the church and down a small path, hidden from view from people passing by, to a small garden or courtyard. 

“Alright. I apologize for calling you a ‘witch.’ I had to get you out and away from the others as fast as I could. I know where you are from. There have been others like you, as well over time.  For at least as long as I can remember. There is magic in those woods you were in.  I am surprised Sir Mortimer, or as we all call him, Rowan found it. Otherwise, you would not be here. His parents always tried to keep him away from and out of those woods.  He would go there as a boy, I have always kept an eye out for him, as best as I could.  I know that is how he found you.  I know where you are from, as I came from your time as well.” She said softly as she sat down on a bench near by.

Clarise didn’t know what to say. She was in awe. 

“Your from my home, my time? How?” Clarise was taken by surprise.

“Your house has a portal. It has been around for as long as those stones have been laid on the foundation of your house.  It’s old Druid magic, dear.  I suggest you keep what I have told you to yourself. I have some peasant clothes that you can have, so you blend in or look more at home. Do not go to the village or the manor house like you are. Some will not take kindly to it. I also do not know how his lordship will act as well.” 

Clarise nodded her head and took the advice as a warning.  

“I need to take the horse back to Sir Mortimer. I am sure he misses him…” Clarise said as she turned towards the path wanting to go back and make sure her steed was still tied to the post. 

“I will help you take him back. Yet I am going to be honest with you; we might not be able to get you back home. Those that I have known, have ended up staying, as they can’t find the portal back or have nothing to take them back.” The prioress said as she placed her hand on Clarise’s shoulder.

Clarise put her hand in her pocket of her jeans. The key was there.

“But I have this? It’s the key to my door…” She said as she handed it to the prioress.

“Where did you get this? We all have heard tales that there was a key of sorts to the portal. But never have seen one until now.” The prioress studied the key that Clarise had with great interest. 

“This is a good thing. Keep it safe. This may eventually help you. How I do not know. But obviously you are closer to getting back to your home than the others.” Clarise wondered who “the others” were and how many had come to pass into this realm.

“The agent who sold me the house had it. It opens the door and locks it nothing else, but I think it is magic or something. It is not ordinary. Both times the portal worked was when it was a full moon and I used this key on the door. Even when Rowan left. I closed the door out of habit that night and he was gone the next morning. But the horse, stayed in my barn.”

“Poor steed was probably too far away for the magic to work and he got left behind.” The prioress followed.

“What did you do to go back to my time? Back home? I am a veterinarian for animals mainly horses. I am not sure what I am going to do here...” Clarise started, as panic and uncertainty started to seep in to her mind.

“Ah a doctor of sorts. I was a teacher. I used to help many in the village with schoolwork after school, as well as help run the school in the village.  Do you know if the school is still there? It would have been next to this church. It well looked many years older.” She asked, her eyes looking sad as she remembered her past life before, this one.

“I believe so… yes…” Clarise struggled to remember the town back in her time. She hadn’t lived there too long, maybe a few months before she bought the house.

“There are times, I miss where we are from, but then sometimes not. Things are simpler here you will see. Yet other times and most often, very harsh. Life is so much more fragile.” She continued.

King of the North: Richard III and the city of York

“welbyloued of my neyghbours, true to my frendes, obeysaunt & devoute in thynges religious…” from The Declamation of Noblesse

After Edward IV became king, he gave his brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester lands in the north of England to govern, including the borderlands of Scotland and some of the most prominent cities in the north of England.  Richard had been in control of the north since 1461 under his brother Edward IV.  His relationship with the north had already been growing.  Soon after he wed Anne Neville, he was granted more lands, and the forfeited lands of Warwick.  Richard was then dubbed, “Warden of the West Marches of Scotland.”  During the summer of 1482, Richard invaded Scotland at King Edward's command to control unrest from the relations and political upheaval coming out of France.  Richard’s relationship with the north of England was not always one of championing for his brother the king, but one of good relations with its cities.  One such city, York, was not only was a city that he had close relations with, but it was also a city that greatly loved and supported him. By looking at this relationship between king and city; we can gather quite a different picture of what Richard was really like, definitely not one of tyrannical sorts. 

 

Battle of Bartlet c.Geoffery Wheeler

York was a great city that deeply honored and held Richard in highest esteem. They looked to him in economic hardship for help and in returned granted him the warmth and welcome befitting to a great king.  This is seen in by the many gifts of generosity to his family.  Because Richard had spent much of his youth in Northern England, Yorkshire and Middleham Castle, he was very close and had close patronage in the north. It was here he made generous donations and contributions to the church, held great parties displaying gifts to its citizens and gifts to him as well. In showing such support on the day of his coronation, the mayor and Alderman traveled to Middleham Castle to bring his son, Edward gifts of wine and food. (Source: History of York; http://www.historyofyork.org.uk/themes/medieval/king-richard-iii-and-york)

Besides growing up in the area at Middleham Castle, his visits to York seemingly few were actually of note of the times. We know that once he was king, he visited York a few times, one time for three weeks in 1483.  (One source noted that Richard was actually in York, when the famous princes in the Tower went missing or ill befell them.) Noted in the city chronicles, he was presented with gifts, and it was this trip that his son was crowned Prince of Wales, at the Minister in York. This was more than likely followed by great and elaborate festivities in the city.  Richard also had the bodies of his father, Richard of York and brother Edmund in 1476, moved to the church in Fotheringhay his birthplace, to the church for reburial. The reburial celebration not only did it bring jobs to the area by requiring masons to build of the additional tombs, but it brought great festivities honoring his father and brother.  The simple act of moving his dearly departed family back to rest in the north, not only shows closeness and ties to a land of his upbringing but it exhibits much love and admiration.

Being a very pious and openly religious man; he made many generous contributions to the church in the area, not just the placing of his family in Fotheringhay church.  It is speculated that he had planned to be buried at York Minister. A debate that has been quite a hot topic of late, adding that he had planned to have a large chapel built in his honor as well, to pray for his soul, once he passed on.  Whether his intentions were written down, this I am unsure of, his generosity and work to place various colleges in the area, and gifts could have been a result of his last intentions.  One of the biggest and surviving contributions Richard made to the north was the college he had in stalled in Middleham in 1478.

The relationship Richard had with his tidings in the north and the city of York, were quite evident and on good terms through out his reign. The city archives note with great sadness, emotion, and heartbreak with the outcome of the battle of Bosworth where their beloved Richard had fallen:

“Were assembled in the counsail chambre where and when it was shewed by diverse persons and especially by John Sponer send unto the feld of Redemore to bring tidinges frome the same to the citie, that King Richard late mercifully reigning upon us was thrugh grete treason of the ducof Northfolk and many othere that turned ayenst hyme, with many othre lordes and nobilles of this north parties, was pitiously siane and murdred to the grete hevynesse of this citie, the names of whome foloweth hereafter.”

23rd August 1485
York City Archives. House Book B2—4f. 169v.

The city of York was set to send 80 men to aid Richard in his battle but they came to late.  Blame over time has been placed on Henry Percy.  Owner of a manor, Percy as battle commander at Bosworth in 1485, failed to join the battle at command of the king aiding the betrayal of Stanley and defeat of Richard. It is even noted that Henry VII was fearful of his visit to York after Richard’s death, as the city was still quite loyal to their slain king and he feared for his life.  Under Henry VII rule, word was supposed to be dispatched by Percy and delivered to York that the king was raising taxes to fund a war in France. The kings response to his plea of the citizens complaint was to have the taxes stay, resulting in his return to town, a ransacked manor house, and his murder.  Obviously, a man who had been known to betray their beloved Richard, York’s “King of the North,” met his demise eventually.

King Richard III, was a man who was seen as a “perfect prince” to the city of York and the north. For the relationship he had with the city of York, was one of great loyalty brought together with justice from the laws he created, the harmony of his relationship with the city, and the church in the area.  His outgoing and well known display of public morality and loyalty had a huge impact on his reputation. It painted a perfect image of what and how a prince should be, one that was admired in the north. It’s this relationship that York to this day still holds dear.  
"loyalté me lie" ~motto of King Richard III


Sources:
http://www.livescience.com/38935-king-richard-iii-facts.htm
http://richardiii-ipup.org.uk/resources
http://www.richardiii.net/2_1_0_richardiii.php#interests

Why Richard III Lost at Bosworth: A Look at the Grieving Process

In the years of my research and study, I have learned not to just look at one aspect of a story or an event, but the whole thing. The BIG picture we call it.  The background, the people in it, as well as the suggestive psyche of the people in the event we study. You could almost call it profiling.

One of the most popular questions I get a lot is “what is your opinion of X ,Y, or Z? It’s not a simple answer, or not an easy question to just lay out on the floor to people. There is so much to medieval life, politics, and society, that a simple answer, really isn’t simple.

Highlighting this, we can look at Richard III of England and his down fall at Bosworth. Was it really just a poor battle strategy or were there events that perhaps preluded to his ill fate, that day? In order to really understand this complex yet very compelling man, its best to look at psychologically what was going on in his head, as well as the political backdrop of the time.

A very private man, a very catholic, and loyal man; rumors were being spread like wild fire from the crowd in London, and at every chance they got.  They did have a version of a newspaper so it is quiet possible that he did know of these rumors, for it’s noted he denied accusations of the relationship with his niece, and of the knowledge of the fate of the princes in the tower.  He also didn’t really know of their deaths until told.  Stated in Cold Case: Reopened: Princes in the Tower, we see a legal perspective into the mystery.  To sum it all up, it is highly suggested in the end, that Henry Tudor VII more than likely had a greater hand in their disappearance/death than Richard.  The author who is a crime solver, not a historian, pointed out two things: 1, the timely manner he took in appealing Titulus Regis so he could marry Elizabeth of York, and 2, the fact he knew Warbeck was a pretender and finally 3. he too never accused Richard of the murders either.  These three things are major factors when looking at ones guilt, thus he points out and leads to his conclusion. 

So imagine you are Richard, you have lost your wife, right after your only heir and you are dealing with rumors that your nephews are dead and you did it.  That’s three traumas and all in a very short period of time. Psychology tells us that trauma can alter ones mental status; cause physical and mental exhaustion, it interferes with ones ability to cope, reason, and it can integrate itself in to a person’s ideas and emotions. It also can cause emotional detachment and what we now know: PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).  (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psychological_trauma) Grief which Richard knew all too well, is a huge stressor, and can be viewed as trauma.  It is directly linked to the emotional process in ones mind. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grief) We know for a fact from historical record, he did cry at Anne’s funeral, hinting he was having a very natural response to this loss.  Promoting his mind was healthy in dealing with this loss at that point in time.  

When looking at how we grieve, it is a process.  It involves coping, confronting reality and emotions with religion or other coping mechanisms. Grief was something he could control; bereavement is a different story. This is a reaction something you cannot control.  He had seen death already many times, his brother Edward, George, his son, even his father, all four very close individuals he lost in a fairly short period of time.  All of this can cause one to be quiet overwhelmed when you add his wife, his soul mate, Anne to the list.  It is greatly possible his grieving process was at an early stage and very rushed due to his political need.

When looking at the grieving process as a whole, the process for a healthy person with stable mind can take up to a year to get through the first 2 stages.  The first stage of “Shock and Denial” normally is about 3 months, the second stage of “Intense Concern,” which can ”manifest by being unable to think of anything else. Even during daily tasks, thoughts of the loss keep coming to mind. Conversations with someone in this stage, have a tendency to turn to the loss as well.” This stage can take up to six months to a year to go through.  This second stage, is the stage Richard was in when he rode off to Bosworth. Anne died in March of 1485.  Richards’s final battle was in August of the same year. Five months is not a lot of time to grieve the loss of a wife, and properly plan a very complex battle. It was a battle that had the fate of his life, as well as his country and throne at stake.  The sheer thought of mental pressure of this event would have been quiet taxing adding to his emotional and mental state of exhaustion.  More than likely, Richard was in fact mentally and emotionally exhausted the day he rode out to meet Henry Tudor on the battlefield. What unfolded next was pure horror to anyone’s eyes. Betrayal from those he thought supported him, Stanley was icing on the cake so to say.

In conclusion, what caused Richard’s downfall at Bosworth? We can blame unknown military tactics, betrayal, but really did him in was his own emotions that where results of natural causes of fate and Fortune’s Wheel, which was still turning. A series of events had unfolded (the death of Anne, the gossip from the Princes missing or dead making way around the country, and the unpopularity in London court) and he just did not have enough time to deal with all of them properly in a healthy manner, and surely clear thinking was not in his favor.  The thought process leading up to and planning for Bosworth more than likely wasn’t a display of his best military planning, experience, something was ad miss the whole battle. I am sure some of the motivation and actions from him leading up to the battle and his death were signs that he was still grieving, and his thought process greatly muddled and not where it needed to be: to win.  The loss of a loved one is a powerful thing and it can defiantly change ones thought process, as we have seen.  For if Anne had still been alive, the outcome might have been different. History would have been different. Richard might have lived.

Sources:

1. Garber, Mark. Cold Case Reopened: The Princes in The Tower. Kindle Edition. ©2013

2. Kail, Robert V. Human Development: A Life-Span View Published by Wadsworth, Canada ©2010. pp. 613-627

A.C. McMillin  ©December 29, 2013