tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50892458413104344202024-03-16T01:11:03.860+00:00Greyhounds and FetterlocksThe blog of Brian Wainwright, author of Within the Fetterlock, The Adventures of Alianore Audley and...Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.comBlogger123125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-17301595132882283022023-07-23T10:28:00.005+01:002023-07-23T10:28:41.958+01:00Parody<p> The other day, for the first time in a very long time, I heard the Barbie Song. So, being me, I decided to write a parody. Hope you like it!</p><p><br /></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i>Hiya, Alianore! </i>
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>Hi, Roger!</i></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>Ready to go to
Mass?</i></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>Sure!</i></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>Come on then!</i></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I’m a Yorkist
girl, in a Yorkist world,</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">We haven’t any
plastic, it’s fantastic.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Never any stress,
three girls to help me dress,</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">You have to know
your station; it’s that kind of nation.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>Come on Alianore!
Let’s get to chapel!</i></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Pregnant every year,
no obstetric care,</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Grit your teeth and
pray, you know it’s just God’s way.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">To work I need not
go; just sit at home and sew.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Life’s not so very
pleasant, but better than a peasant’s.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I have to hide my
hair, or I might as well be bare.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Shave my forehead
clean, naked as a bean.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">It’s plucking that
I hate, makes me so irate.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">But it’s all the
fashion, it has to be my passion.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">My lord has all the
cash. I cannot make a splash.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Life can oft be
funny, I still don’t have no money!</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">At least he treats
me well. No bruises you can tell.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">It could be ten
times worse, I could be on a hearse.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>Come on Alianore,
let’s go to Middleham!</i></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Middleham is
freezing; I am always sneezing.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I wait upon the
Duchess, nothing there can touch us.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I can brush her
hair, kneel before her chair.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">It’s a super job;
I’m part of Richard’s ‘blob’.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I’m a Yorkist
girl, in a Yorkist world,</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">We haven’t any
plastic, it’s fantastic.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Never any stress,
three girls to help me dress,</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">You have to know
your station; it’s that kind of nation.</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>Come on Alianore!
Let’s ride up Coverdale!</i></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i>Oh, I can’t
wait, Roger!</i></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p>
</p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-70485508710725794922023-07-18T09:20:00.004+01:002023-07-18T09:23:58.346+01:00The Mists of Middleham<p> My second Alianore Audley book, <i>The Mists of Middleham</i>, is now available from Amazon. Be aware that this is not conventional historical fiction. Those of you who have read <i>The Adventures of Alianore Audley </i>will have some idea of what it's like, but this book goes further into strange realms so to speak. Alianore meets Robin Hood, King Arthur and the Black Dog of Hergest. To say nothing of Lady Crystal Plantagenet.</p><p>Back in the real world, <i>Hanley Castle</i>, the second book in the Constance of York series, has been out there for some time. I am busy with the third book, provisionally titled <i>The Downfall of Our House</i>. Progress is slow due to a variety of factors - I have a life apart from writing. However, I shall get there.</p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-66102545095671438422022-05-03T19:46:00.005+01:002022-05-03T19:48:17.812+01:00More Progress on Books<p> I am pleased to say that I am more than 60% on with the <b>second </b>book in the <i>Walking Among Lions </i>series, and I expect to see it finished and out there by December 2022 at the latest. The working title is <i>Hanley Castle </i>but there is a chance that might change. Anyway, keep looking out for it. </p><p>This will pretty well complete Constance's story when coupled with <i>Within the Fetterlock. </i>However, that novel is now 'hard to find' and also I have found out some new facts; I am conscious of some errors, and I now interpret the political situation slightly differently. Some of this will show up in <i>Hanley Castle, </i>but I have decided that a third volume in the same style is necessary to complete Constance's story. <i> </i>This has a working title of <i>The Downfall of Our House </i>and I hope to have it out in 2023.</p><p>The second Alianore book, <i>The Mists of Middleham </i>is next up. It is very largely finished, just needs a certain amount of work, mainly polishing. It will be finalised once the third Constance book is out, and again I hope this will be in 2023.</p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-55275425888273754522022-05-01T20:07:00.002+01:002022-05-01T20:09:28.245+01:00The Adventures of Alianore Audley<p><i> <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Adventures-Alianore-Audley-Yorkist-Intelligence/dp/B09YJK54W5/ref=sr_1_2?crid=TO4RY93T2B4V&keywords=The+Adventures+of+Alianore+Audley&qid=1651431985&sprefix=the+adventures+of+alianore+audley%2Caps%2C216&sr=8-2">The Adventures of Alianore Audley</a> </i>now has a new cover and the text has been somewhat upgraded.</p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-86505550990212957602022-04-29T14:50:00.001+01:002022-04-29T15:00:38.987+01:00A Link to my Website<p> My long neglected website can be <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/brianwainwrightnovels/home?fbclid=IwAR0uzPRV2I78kQnDXuh4lnAm8AK_s43Dfm0O27JB7BvlKZekUP3yTEc7dEc" target="_blank">found here.</a></p><p><br /></p><p>It is now relatively updated!</p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-80681331415649251222022-04-27T10:01:00.001+01:002022-04-29T14:58:28.354+01:00The long promised Constance Prequel<p> <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Walking-Among-Lions-Novel-Constance/dp/1494364018/ref=sr_1_1?qid=1651049793&refinements=p_27%3ABrian+Wainwright&s=books&sr=1-1&text=Brian+Wainwright">Here we are</a>.</p><p><br /></p><p><i>Walking Among Lions </i>is the first of a trilogy about Constance of York. It was first conceived as a prequel to <i>Within the Fetterlock</i>. (A draft title was <i>This New Spring of Time</i> but my friends changed my mind.)</p><p>As <i>Within the Fetterlock </i>is now 'hard to find' and my understanding of the politics and certain facts have changed, I have now decided to go the whole hog, so the trilogy will cover her whole life.</p><p><br /></p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-52055339674286591422022-04-27T09:55:00.002+01:002022-04-29T14:58:55.301+01:00<p><br /></p><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">I just wanted to mention that a new paperback version of <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09YK4BX7Z?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860">The Adventures of Alianore Audley </a>is now available from Amazon, with a prettier cover and some improvements to the text.</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">A revised kindle version is to be had too, at a slightly lower price, and a hardback version should soon appear too! (For those who like their books to be reassuringly expensive.)</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">In case anyone is unfamiliar with Alianore I should stress this is a light-hearted book, not meant to be taken too seriously.</div></div>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-78150713663085042572021-08-03T12:54:00.001+01:002021-08-03T12:55:46.026+01:00The Complexities of Medieval Wardship<p> I am currently trying to unravel the arrangements for the Despenser lands in the late 14th Century. It is quite complex.</p><p>When Edward, Lord Despenser died in November 1375, the wardship of his lands was given to his widow, Elisabeth. This was an unusual mark of favour and <i>may </i>reflect the fact that Sir Edward had been one of England's premier knights and was very well-regarded. Elisabeth also had a third of the lands in dower plus her inherited Burghersh lands which belonged to her in her own right. This made her a very wealthy and powerful woman, and all indications are that she did a very good job of protecting her son's lands rather than asset-stripping them as 'guardians' often did.</p><p>Of course, the grant was not absolute. She 'farmed' the wardship (which ultimately belonged to the King) and had to pay a fat annual fee for the privilege. This was quite normal practice. Some of that fee was certainly paid to the Duke of York, whose daughter was married to her son Thomas around about 1379. (They were both very small children.) This began a process where various members of the York family lived off the part of the Despenser revenues right up until 1415/16. But that's another story.</p><p>In December 1390, when Thomas was still only 17, he was associated with his mother in his own wardship. This was very unusual and shows a degree of favour from Richard II. However, it applied to only <i>part </i>of the inheritance. The two-thirds of Glamorgan not forming Elisabeth's dower were covered as was a selection of the English lands but by no means all of them. For this Thomas and Elisabeth had to pay £700 a year to the King plus smaller amounts to various people who had been given incomes based on the issues of the wardship. The implication is that the lands must have been worth more - perhaps much more. When it is borne in mind that the Duke of York's <i>landed </i>income was only £900, it shows how valuable the Despenser lands must have been.</p><p>How this worked in practice is hard to discern, but it looks like Elisabeth retained charge of much of the English inheritance. The purpose of this split eludes me.</p><p>In 1394 when Thomas was twenty, he was allowed full livery of all his lands some months before his birthday. This concession may have related to his decision to go with the King to Ireland, and the downside to it is we do not get a Proof of Age as he was never required to obtain one. This deprives us of a great deal of knowledge. Again, some people were given protection until he truly came of age, but he would have had the bulk of his inheritance and his mother's duty was at an end.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-82562474028404855062021-06-22T18:21:00.000+01:002021-06-22T18:21:27.040+01:00Is anyone else sick of hearing about Anne Boleyn?<p> Apparently, there is to be <i>yet another </i>TV series around Anne Boleyn.</p><p>I get the distinct impression that the people who commission TV dramas are under the impression that England/Britain went straight from the Creation to the Tudors, and then directly to Jane Austen.</p><p>There were other eras in our rich and colourful history. There are literally hundreds of interesting tales that could be told.</p><p>To put it another way - I really like steak and chips. But I don't want it for every meal for the rest of my life. Variety is highly desirable.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-73491067124655463302021-06-06T17:17:00.003+01:002021-06-06T17:21:25.873+01:00The Road Not Travelled<p> <span style="font-family: inherit;">This<a href="https://smile.amazon.co.uk/dp/B096M1KX98?psc=1&smid=A3P5ROKL5A1OLE&ref_=chk_typ_imgToDp"> book</a> is now available in paperback format. It can also be had in Kindle format if you prefer.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">It is raising money for the <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">Scoliosis Association UK (SAUK)</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"> and contains several short stories set in the era of the Wars of the Roses. What's different is they are all Alternative History.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">The stories are written by a team of excellent authors. Oh, and there's one in there by me too! It's about George Clarence.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">Enjoy!</span></span></p><p><br /></p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-79215452079507257152021-06-05T20:18:00.000+01:002021-06-06T17:22:10.463+01:00An Old Graveyard<p>This is a bit of an off-the-wall post but I had to write it somewhere.</p><p>When I was a lad I had the misfortune to attend one of Manchester's less pleasant schools. It was not 'approved' but judging from the attitudes and behaviour of certain pupils and staff it might as well have been.</p><p>Anyway, our playing fields were not attached to the school. That would have been far too convenient. No, they were a good country mile away at Nell Lane. Sometimes we actually played football or cricket, but just as often as not the pitches were judged unfit and we had to run around it. It was a very big field.</p><p>Just across Nell Lane was a little cemetery. On the gates were the words 'Southern Cemetery' and I assumed it was the very earliest part of that huge cemetery, the main bit of which is just across Princess Road, a long stone's throw away. There were tombstones with names and dates but I don't recall the details. Sometimes I would venture in to collect conkers at the appropriate season - it was a rich source of this bounty.</p><p>I am very sensitive to atmosphere, and in most cemeteries, I am at the least 'alert'. That is I have a sense of being watched, of needing to be on my best behaviour. This little cemetery was positively welcoming. It was as if the souls were glad to see you. It was so old and neglected that I doubt there were many visitors.</p><p>Eventually, about 1970, this little plot was destroyed to allow for road widening, and the inhabitants were moved to Southern Cemetery (proper) with many of them crammed together into boxes. Not a trace now remains of the place where I used to collect conkers. Even the former school field is largely destroyed.</p><p>Recently I discovered that the plot originally belonged to the nearby Nell Lane Workhouse. So, despite the legend of the gates, it was not strictly part of Southern Cemetery at all.</p><p>So to whom did the gravestones belong? Perhaps some of the workhouse residents had family who gave them a proper grave. The rest, poor souls, must have been left with nothing to mark where they lay, although of course, that was no obvious to a youthful, ignorant visitor.</p><p>I gather some of the stones survive in their new location. One day I must nip down and say 'Hi, you are not forgotten.'</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-56345420697657296802021-04-12T12:16:00.003+01:002021-06-06T17:22:46.375+01:00Amazon Author Page<p><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/s?k=Brian+Wainwright&ref=nb_sb_noss">This Link will take you to my Amazon Author Page.</a></p><p>You will find details there of all my books and the books to which I have contributed.</p><p>I have no idea why UK Amazon is not showing new copies of <i>Within the Fetterlock. </i>To the best of my knowledge, they are still available, but you will have to import them via Amazon.com. Of course, if you live in America this will not be an issue. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-75818263893931139012021-04-12T12:09:00.002+01:002022-04-29T15:01:54.282+01:00The Constance Prequel<p> I am now well on with this. I had a bit of a mental block with the events of 1387/88. It was almost as if Constance didn't want me to write about the traumatic events! But now I am out the other side and working towards the point in the story where Richard II regains power.</p><p>I have decided to change the title. What I have not finally decided is what to change it to. Court of Treason is the front-runner, but I am not 100% decided.</p><p><br /></p><p>UPDATE: The first part is now published as Walking Among Lions. Part 2 should follow by no later than December 2022!</p>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-84900244070080940732020-03-16T13:39:00.001+00:002020-03-16T13:40:20.309+00:00"What Constance Did Next"As some people know, I have a whole host of unfinished projects at the back of my computer. One of them is a third Constance of York novel, taking up the story from the end of <i>Within the Fetterlock</i>. Its working title is <i>What Constance Did Next</i>. (A bit tongue-in-cheek that!)<br />
<br />
Anyway, the reality is I may well never complete it. If by some chance I do, a little preview will do no harm. So here it is. Please bear in mind that this is the equivalent of "green beer" - it has not been polished or edited, it's a first draft. You may enjoy it - or not. Anyway, it's a free read. We may all be glad of a few of those before the current crisis ends:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
<br />
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-before: always;">
I am no longer a prisoner. Instead, I live as one of those attached
to the King’s court, without land or possessions or income, save
for the clothes I wear, and, hidden away in my only travelling-chest,
a change or two of linen and a small and dwindling stock of coin.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The King;
the so-called King, Harry of Bolingbroke, my <i>dear</i> cousin.
Traitor, murderer, usurper - I dare not say these words aloud, though
they all but burn on my lips. Instead, I bow my head, I curtsey, I
kneel, I offer every kind of deference, and I scarcely speak at all.
Yet he must know how I hate him, how I long to see his guts spilling
across the floor, how I pray for him to writhe perpetually in hell’s
fiercest flames. He does not have so many years to live. Already his
body is rotting, so that often he staggers like a drunken fool or
slumps in his chair like an ancient. His soul is already rotted. In
his eyes I see fear- not fear of me of course, or of any temporal
being, but fear for what must come to him - no quantity of masses
bought can save him, for he does not repent, will not yield what he
has stolen. He keeps a jester close, paid to make him laugh. That
little man works harder for his wages than any in England, for what
can make Harry of Bolingbroke laugh?
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Even the
King’s eyes grow weak. He reads too many books. He has built whole
libraries to house them, great rooms where can hide from the world
and his sins, and lose himself in tales of the ancients, in
manuscripts that advise princes how to govern. Once he was a great
knight who could take the ring on his lance nineteen times out of a
score; now he peers at you, not sure who you are if you are more than
a grave’s length away from him. Yet he knows what is written on the
wall. It is all too clear. He is the Mouldwarp of Merlin’s prophecy
– the half-blind mole whose line will fail. His blood will not long
enjoy the English throne. I know this, because God is not mocked, and
His justice, however slow, is sure.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
This
so-called court; more like an armed camp than the seat of a Christian
king - not as it was in King Richard’s time. You may walk through
it from one end to the other and not hear a word of poetry or a note
of music and scarcely talk of anything but the war with the Welsh,
the threat of the French, and the emptiness in the King’s coffers.
There are scarcely any ladies present but those in attendance on the
Queen, and the Queen and I do not agree. I keep myself in corners. I
have needle and thread for company, and I make and mend. There is
little else to do. There is no conversation, and I lack a horse to
ride out or partake in the hunt. Bolingbroke’s courtiers laugh at
me behind their sleeves. They see in me a defeated wretch who has
lost everything that matters to her.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
They are
right, of course. I have lost everything; even my faith. I still
attend mass, and I recite my prayers, but only out of habit, only as
a way of passing time. I no longer believe that anyone listens.
Indeed, there is a great deal I no longer believe; if the Archbishop
could hear my thoughts he would have me burnt, like the other poor
wretches he and Bolingbroke have burned in recent years. King Richard
never burnt anyone for folly, but of course <i>he</i> was the tyrant,
not Bolingbroke. I smile at the thought; Richard, my gentle cousin, a
man less like a tyrant is hard to imagine. Yet so he is called, and
people believe it, because it is what they have been told. Why else
was he deposed? Why else was he murdered?</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
There are
some who whisper that Richard still lives, in Scotland. I pray for it
to be true, but it is something else I cannot believe. Bolingbroke
would not have left such a matter to chance. No, the rightful King is
the Earl of March and he – despite my efforts – is still Harry’s
prisoner. A boy and a weakly puling boy at that – but he will grow.
I pray he will grow to be Harry’s bane. God is not listening, not
yet, or March would be in Wales with Glyndŵr as I intended. What a
world it is when such as I must make common cause with a Welsh rebel!
Yet I had no choice, and my only regret is that I failed.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
My
brother York is here. He arrived last night with due ceremony,
bringing his troupe of minstrels, for which I am grateful, and not
bringing his duchess, for which I am also grateful. He hastens to
kiss King Bolingbroke’s hand, to fawn over him like a whipped dog,
to smile and beg for favours. People have already begun to forget
that he was the ringleader and originator of our conspiracy. Of
course, had I not denounced him, he would have escaped free of all
blame, as he had done so many times before. Yet here he is, quite
forgiven, and you would think, from the way he bears himself, the way
he is received, that he was Harry Bolingbroke’s dearest friend and
most trusted counsellor.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
He
scarcely glances at me. Still less does he approach me. I am not
forgiven for my betrayal, though I forgave him for a dozen worse. I
am guilty of treason, not against the King, but against <i>him</i>,
my brother. Those weeks imprisoned at Pevensey must have hurt, though
they were nothing to what he deserved.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Edward
thinks <i>he</i> should be King. He says, though he says it very
quietly these days, that Cousin Richard promised him the succession.
He also thinks he should be King of Castile, in our grandfather’s
right. It would be laughable, were it not pathetic. No one trusts
him. He has betrayed too many men better than himself, brought about
their deaths by his scheming and folly, while escaping unharmed
himself. He cannot quite live it down. Men are happy to laugh with
him, to ride with him in pursuit of the stag or the hare, but they
will never follow him. So he will never wear a crown, no matter how
much he craves one.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Someone
stands before me; a young man, wearing a lawyer’s gown. As I glance
up, he doffs his hood and bows, and waits for me to speak. What new
mockery is this?</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘Well,
sir?’ I say.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘Madam,
my name is Hugh Holgot.’ He bows again. ‘I am an attorney-at-law,
and I hope that I may be of service to your ladyship.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘You
do, do you?’ He is a small fellow, somewhat stooping in his
posture, but his eyes are bright and clear, and sparkle with
intelligence. ‘In my experience,’ I say, ‘lawyers expect to be
paid for their services, and I have no means with which to reward
you.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘Perhaps
not at this time; but once you have your lands again, you will have
very considerable means, and the need to employ a man of business. In
the mean time, I can wait for payment, for I know that the wait will
be worthwhile.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘The
King has promised me my lands.’ I must wait a while, that is all.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘The
King is a busy man, my lady; and a sick one. He has diverse matters
on his mind, and many seeking his favour. I would suggest a petition
by way of reminder. Let us begin with your goods, which I understand
are in the custody of the Treasurer of the Household. There is no
real reason for these to be withheld from you. The matter has
doubtless been overlooked. With your permission, I will draft a
suitable petition, and see it put into the right hand.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I think
for a moment. No doubt this fellow will charge me some ludicrous sum,
after the way of lawyers, and then add interest to boot. But then
again, what have I to lose?</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘Very
well,’ I say, ‘you may draft the petition, and I shall sign and
seal it. So be it you understand that I can by no means pay you so
much as a penny until such time as I am in my own again.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
He thanks
me, fawning as though I have granted him a great favour, bows again,
and makes his way off. No doubt to find parchment and ink, so brisk
is he in his business. I have barely returned to my stitching when
another stands before me; this time, to my surprise, my brother York.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘Who
was that fellow?’ he asks abruptly. That is all he says; not a word
of apology, or greeting, or common courtesy.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘That
is my man-of-business,’ I say. I resume my work as though he is not
there, as I have no wish to encourage him.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘You
have a man-of-business?’ He half snorts, half laughs at the
thought. ‘What does he do? Count your pins for you?’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘It is
certainly no concern of yours.’ I know that I am scowling, and I
try to ignore him, but he is a very hard man to ignore. He stares
down at me, a crooked half-smile playing about his lips as though he
is considering a joke. He lifts his foot high enough to place it on
the cushion next to me, and draws so close I can feel his breath on
my face.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘What
is it that you want, Constance?’ he asks.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘I want
you to go to the Devil and burn in Hell!’ I raise my voice just
enough for the heads nearest to us to turn towards us in interest. It
is unfortunate, for I know that my anger will be read as weakness, by
my brother and by half the court. Anger is an unaffordable luxury
when one has no power and nothing to live on.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘To
join the rest of our family?’ he suggests, smiling and trying to
make me smile. ‘We shall all of us be very much at home there, one
day. The only question is which one of us will be nearest the fire.’
He pauses, as if considering. ‘Cousin Harry, I think, on balance;
though he will not lack for competition for the best place.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I stay
silent, and hope he will take the hint and go away. He does not.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘You
should consider,’ he says, ‘whether I can serve you better as a
friend than as an enemy.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘You
have been both,’ I say, ‘and in all truth, I cannot say that I
have ever noticed much difference from the one to the other.
Certainly, your friendship is extremely costly. Your enmity can
scarcely be more so.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘The
King is grievous sick,’ he says.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘I
know; I have seen him.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘Not as
he is now; in bed, scarce breathing, let alone talking. Those around
him say that he is worse than at any time since the disease first
took him. That is why there is no word of us leaving here – he’s
in no state to travel. It’s also why I was sent for; he and his
Council have need of me. I am quite restored to favour. The Prince
has particular need of my services in Wales.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘They
must be desperate indeed,’ I say.</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘So I
may soon be in a position to help you; if you will accept my aid.’</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
‘Harry
and his Council may be fools enough to trust you once more; I never
shall, or at least, not until your fine words are matched by deeds.’
I avoid his eyes, his smile. I keep my voice low, though I long to
curse him, to scream and throw my work in his face.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-63112531875984728122019-08-14T10:47:00.000+01:002019-10-29T06:21:58.206+00:00Brian Wainwright "How I Wish I Had Written That" Award for 2019<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<div style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><script async="" data-ad-client="ca-pub-1518353148869627" src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<div style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">
The coveted and prestigious <b>Brian Wainwright "How I Wish I Had Written That" Award for 2019</b> goes to the late, great and much lamented <b>Edith Pargeter</b>.</div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
In this scene from <i>A Bloody Field By Shrewsbury</i>, Thomas Percy, Earl of Worcester, is addressing that toad, Bolingbroke...</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
"My lord of Lancaster, there is nothing now your vengeance can do to me, nothing you can take from me that I will not gladly part with. But I tell you this to your face, you do ill to use such words as trai<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">tor and treason to me, or to him that's dead in his splendour. What have we done that you have not taught us before? We took arms for our rights against wrongs inflicted by an unjust king. So did you! We did our endeavour to curb his actions and take from his his crown. So did you! If we are traitors, so were you when you struck at Richard. Did we go back on an oath of allegiance? So did you! There is nothing we have now done against the crown that you did not commit against it four years ago. Hold up the mirror of treason before you, and see your own face! And more - for you do things we have not done, and never thought to do. It was in fair fight in the field, and far outnumbered, that Harry Percy set out to take your life, Henry of Lancaster, man to man, not by proxy in a prison cell, fifteen days starving to death!"</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<i>A Bloody Field by Shrewsbury</i>, Edith Pargeter, page 397.</div>
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Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-55999335119633468292019-06-27T15:43:00.002+01:002019-06-27T15:44:46.112+01:00Maria de Padilla<br />
I am surprised to find the internet has several images of <a href="https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/8098744/maria-de-padilla">Maria de Padilla</a>.<br />
<br />
Her daughters married John of Gaunt and Edmund of Langley and she was the grandmother (among others) of Edward, Duke of York, Constance of York and Richard of Conisbrough. (Richard of Conisbrough is known thus to historians but as Lord Richard of York in his lifetime, later Earl of Cambridge. But that's a detail.)<br />
<br />
What is <i>really</i> cool about Maria is that her coat of arms included frying pans. This may be unique in heraldry, it is certainly unusual. It is apparently a pun on her surname, which I presume works in Castilian. Not three lions on a shirt - several frying pans on a shield. (Or in her case, a lozenge.)<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-92058784210798599602019-06-27T14:26:00.000+01:002019-06-27T14:26:55.044+01:00This New Spring of Time.I am still pressing on with the novel, which has now reached Chapter 8. I wish I could write more quickly and more fluently, but I can't. I take the view that continuing progress is a Good Thing.<br />
<br />
What <i>would </i>speed me up (probably) would be a lucrative publishing contract and a deadline; but I might as well say that a visit from the Blessed Virgin Mary would help. The latter is more probable, after all.<br />
<br />
However I am <u style="font-style: italic;">absolutely determined</u> to finish this book. I am writing it, basically for two people. Constance and me. If anyone else likes it, that will be a bonus, but as I do not expect to be able to buy a Rolls Royce with the proceeds, I am remarkably relaxed about the whole thing.<br />
<br />
What I can say is the style is quite different from anything I have written before. It May Not Please Everyone. But it so happens I am finding it easier to write that way.Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-27355538399933050292019-04-02T10:53:00.000+01:002022-04-29T15:03:32.156+01:00Richard IIToday I saw on the internet an extract from a book which suggested Richard II's marriage to Anne of Bohemia was never consummated.<br />
<br />
This is utter bull excrement. We <i>know</i>, as a fact, that Anne lost children she had conceived. For details, see Kathryn Warner's book on Richard.<br />
<br />
So unless the Holy Ghost was busy in late 14th Century England, it's a certain as anything can be that happened over 600 years ago that the marriage<i> was </i>consummated.Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-1796471559607368152018-12-18T11:24:00.004+00:002022-04-29T15:03:55.847+01:00Deferring the Garter Meeting.In Kathryn Warner's book on Richard II I found that in 1386 the usual meeting of the Order of the Garter was deferred from St George's Day, although no reason was given in the King's letters. This threw me as the opening scene of <i>This New Spring of Time </i>is that very meeting and I had written it as taking place on St George's Day. Suddenly, this was <b>wrong</b>!<br />
<br />
So I searched as one does, and found that the Garter statutes (albeit compiled in Henry V's time) provided that if the feast of St George fell close to Easter, the meeting would be deferred until the following Sunday. This was to save the knights having to travel over Easter, which was a no-no.<br />
<br />
In 1386, St George's Day fell on Easter Monday! So at a stroke, I knew <i>why</i> it had been deferred <i>and </i>the likely replacement date. Simples!Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-54889569149331535052018-12-06T15:06:00.001+00:002022-05-01T20:16:47.971+01:00Progress on This New Spring of TimeI am <b><i>finally </i></b>making some progress with the novel <i>This New Spring of Time </i>which is a prequel to <i>Within the Fetterlock.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Currently I am four chapters in and making (by my standards) good progress. This has been a start from scratch as I am using what is (for me) a new style.<br />
<br />
All other writing is currently suspended. I have written about 60,000 words of Alianore II, but I am not satisfied with it, so it is going to have to have a complete rethink.Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-35184886526075942962018-08-31T00:30:00.000+01:002018-08-31T00:30:08.838+01:00August 31st marks the death in 1688 of John Bunyan, author of the very influential book, <i>Pilgrim's Progress, </i>which has been loved by Christians across the world since it was first published.<br />
<br />
Interestingly, Bunyan wrote the book while he was in prison, to which he was sent for the terrible crime of preaching without a licence by the tyrannical, bigoted government of Oliver Cromwell.<br />
<br />
Oh, <i><b>sorry!</b></i> Cromwell died in 1658 and Bunyan was not arrested until 1661. It was actually the tyrannical, bigoted government of King Charles II.<br />
<br />
This demonstrates two things:<br />
<br />
1. While we should strive not to be bigoted, the <i>"right kind"</i> of bigot often escapes criticism, not least in history.<br />
<br />
2. (For writers). If it's possible to write a major book within the confines of 17th Century prison, it should be possible anywhere.<br />
<br />
<br />Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-56108936510030961892018-03-26T13:41:00.001+01:002018-03-26T13:41:18.049+01:00Despenser InheritanceThis link will take you to an interesting (if complex) article by Professor Hicks about <a href="http://www.hantsfieldclub.org.uk/publications/hampshirestudies/digital/1990s/vol53/Hicks.pdf">the Despenser Inheritance.</a>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-23377271698173994112017-02-06T12:48:00.001+00:002017-02-06T12:49:36.041+00:00Just when you think the world couldn't get any madder...CAMRA, the highly successful consumer organisation that has for <i>decades</i> promoted Real Ale has decided that it needs to be 'revitalised'.<br />
<br />
The project group looking at this has suggested that CAMRA should no longer focus on Real Ale, but give support to all 'good' beer.<br />
<br />
A change so radical is rather like the Richard III Society deciding that Henry VII was actually quite a decent chap, and that his hereditary claim to the throne had some substance.<br />
<br />
What it means on the ground is that CAMRA (if the change is supported) will in future give credence to the overpriced, glorified fizzy keg that is laughingly called 'craft beer'.<br />
<br />
I give up. I really do.Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-1219076830604065642016-10-06T15:40:00.000+01:002016-10-06T16:07:50.727+01:00Used Postage Stamps for CharityNot many charities still collect old postage stamps as a way of raising funds but one that does is the <a href="https://retiredgreyhounds.co.uk/">Retired Greyhound Trust</a>.<br />
<br />
So, if you can bundle up all your old stamps (any used postage stamp will do, UK or other) and put them in a suitably stamped envelope or jiffy bag addressed to:-<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "myriad_w01_regular" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span style="border: 0px; color: #222222; font-family: "myriad_w01_smbd" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">RGT Stamp Appeal, Park House, Park Terrace, Worcester Park, KT4 7JZ. UK</em></span><br />
<span style="border: 0px; color: #222222; font-family: "myriad_w01_smbd" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></em></span>
<span style="border: 0px; color: #222222; font-stretch: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You can be sure they will be put to a good cause, helping retired former racing greyhounds.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="border: 0px; color: #222222; font-stretch: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="border: 0px; color: #222222; font-stretch: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Of course there are other ways to help the RGT, as you will find if you follow the link to their site. In particular, their shop sells some great stuff - including food for your retired greyhound!</span></span></span><br />
<br />Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5089245841310434420.post-24038968136993303532016-08-19T13:26:00.001+01:002016-08-19T13:26:42.150+01:00Tia Rescue Cafe<a href="https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g187067-d10048202-Reviews-Tia_Rescue-Doncaster_South_Yorkshire_England.html">Tia Rescue, near Doncaster, now has a cafe.</a><br />
<br />
Gets good reviews on Trip Advisor, so please visit when in the area and help the greyhounds, lurchers and shire horses that it supports.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://tia-rescue.org/bandana-challenge/">Don't forget the Open Day and Bandana Challenge on Sunday 28th August!</a>Brian Wainwrighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16867772590464992131noreply@blogger.com0