Thursday, June 13, 2024

Katharine's Remarkable Road Trip

Good morning, dear readers! As soon as I read the premise of this novel, I knew it was one to share with you. Gail Ward Olmsted has found a fascinating historical woman to feature, and you all know how I love the kind of story that shines a light on a lady who has been left too much in the historical dark. Read on about Katharine Prescott Wormeley, a Civil War Nurse and road trip adventuress!

~ Samantha


Katharine's Remarkable Road Trip: An Excerpt

Guest Post by Gail Ward Olmsted

The history behind the story:

In the fall of 1907, Katharine decides to drive from Newport, Rhode Island, to her home in Jackson, New Hampshire. Despite the concerns of her family and friends, that at the age of 77 she lacks the stamina for the nearly 300-mile journey, Katharine sets out alone. Over the next six days, she receives a marriage proposal, pulls an all-nighter, saves a life or two, crashes a high-society event, meets a kindred spirit, faces a former rival, makes a new friend, takes a stroll with a future movie mogul, advises a troubled newlywed, and reflects upon a life well lived; her own! 

Join her as she embarks upon her remarkable road trip.

Here's a sneak peek from Katharine's Remarkable Road Trip!

The lighter side of serving as a volunteer nurse on a hospital ship during the Civil War

“But it wasn’t all bad,” I told him. “When things settled down a bit, we nurses were able to chat with the soldiers or read to them. We even wrote letters to their loved ones for them.” I smiled brightly. “That was my favorite activity, the writing of letters. Just to know that they could tell their families back home how they were faring . . . well, it was quite the rewarding experience I can tell you that.” 

I felt tears well up in my eyes, and I quickly wiped them away. Many of those letters would have arrived at their intended destination long after the soldier who had dictated it had died from his injuries. I hoped that the last words they received had provided some solace to the grieving families. It had been an honor and a privilege to be involved in their lives in that way. I remembered trying and failing to imagine what it would have been like to receive a letter like that, dictated by a loved one, transcribed by a well-meaning stranger.

Keep reading Katharine's Remarkable Road Trip

More about the remarkable Katharine:

Katharine Prescott Wormeley (1830-1908) was born into affluence in England and emigrated to the U. S. at the age of eighteen. Fiercely independent and never married, Kate volunteered as a nurse on a medical ship during the Civil War, before founding a vocational school for underprivileged girls. A lifelong friend and trusted confidante of landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted, she was a philanthropist, a hospital administrator, and the author of The Other Side of War: 1862, as well as the noted translator of dozens of novels written by French authors, including Moliere and Balzac. She is included in History’s Women: The Unsung Heroines; History of American Women: Civil War Women; Who’s Who in America 1908-09; Notable American Women, A Biographical Dictionary: 1607-1950 and A Woman of the 19th Century: Leading American Women in All Walks of Life

Get your copy of Katharine's Remarkable Road Trip 

 or read FREE with Kindle Unlimited!

Connect with Gail Ward Olmsted

Gail Ward Olmsted was a marketing executive and a college professor before she began writing fiction on a fulltime basis. A trip to Sedona, AZ inspired her first novel Jeep Tour. Three more novels followed before she began Landscape of a Marriage, a biographical work of fiction featuring landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted, a distant cousin of her husband’s, and his wife Mary. After penning a pair of contemporary novels featuring a disgraced attorney seeking a career comeback (Miranda Writes, Miranda Nights) she is back to writing historical fiction featuring an incredible woman with an amazing story. Watch for Katharine's Remarkable Road Trip on June 13th.

Connect with Gail on her website, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Book Bub, Amazon Author Page, and Goodreads

Monday, June 3, 2024

Saving the Union

James Alexander Hamilton wrote extensively about the issues connected to the US Civil War, including slavery, constitutionality, and preservation of the Union. The evolution of his thoughts on these topics helped me understand the mindset of Americans - or at least Northerners - of the early 19th century. From our modern point of view, it is easy to argue that the Civil War was a single-issue war, but, of course, the truth is much more complicated. 

My guest today has delved into the challenging task of discerning the attitudes and mindsets of a past generation in order to write their stories as accurately as possible. What did preservation of the Union mean to Northern soldiers? Author Richard Buxton digs into this question with some great insights.

Welcome, Richard!

~ Samantha


Saving the Union

Guest Post by Richard Buxton

As a writer of historical fiction, I’m constantly fearful of misrepresenting the past. In practice, it’s impossible not to. The wonderful Hilary Mantel, in her 2017 Reith lectures reminded us that, ‘History is not the past, it’s the method we’ve evolved for organizing our ignorance of the past.’ Even where you have first-hand accounts, written at or close to the time, they all have their own spin. Hilary, never one for understatement, went on to say that history, ‘is the multiplication of the evidence of fallible and biased witnesses combined with incomplete accounts of actions not fully understood by the people who performed them.’

We might think of the American Civil War, the backdrop for my trilogy, as on the cusp of modern times; it’s end at Appomattox just shy of one-hundred and sixty years ago. There are very extensive army records, both official and unofficial, some photographic evidence, and lots of newspaper coverage. So getting most details right (the weather, the uniforms and equipment) should be achievable. Events tend to be presented subjectively, so are a little harder. How then to deal with a broadly held attitude or motivation?

One issue I struggled to understand is what Union meant to soldiers fighting for the North in the American Civil War, the Union being the collection of states then constituted. Today we just call it the U.S.A or the States. I played with it in the title for the trilogy, Shire’s Union; Shire fights for the Union but it also hints at his often-forlorn hopes for a future with Clara. But the idea of Union meant much more to the people at the time. It’s very evident that the long-standing irritant of slavery was the underlying cause of the war, but preservation of the Union was a far more widely cited motivation than abolition for the early volunteers in the Union Army. It was also the principal objective of the government. Lincoln famously said, ‘If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also do that.’ This was written well over a year into the fighting. Only later would an end to slavery get equal billing with saving the Union. And those were the two great outcomes of the struggle: slavery was abolished and the Union was restored.

Image reference:
Library of Congress 2003674570;
Created/Published New York
by Currier & Ives, c1861

But what did Union mean to the soldiers of the North? It’s hard to get at, especially for someone who’s British, where we have our own – often conflicted – ideas of Union. When the young America partially dissolved and went to war with itself, it was only eighty-five years old. The very identity of America was bound up with the idea of Union, with a hard-won rejection of old European monarchies. The Union represented a new consensus about freedom. America’s frontier was a little way west of the Mississippi at the outbreak of war, ‘the states like multi-coloured fields reaching across a half-finished farm,’ as Shire thinks when tearing a page from his father’s atlas. States like Ohio, Illinois and Iowa, were on the frontier themselves just a few decades before. Many soldiers were first or second-generation immigrants, whose spoken language was other than English. Their own or their parents’ escape from the European experience was not so distant. Most believed that preserving a Union of states bound together by freedoms for the individual was worth battling and possibly dying for. It’s subtly different than fighting for your country. It’s fighting for an idea. An end to Union – disunion - meant backsliding towards autocracies and suffering that they believed they had left on the other side of the Atlantic.

Distilling any of this into a novel through the thoughts and actions of your characters is challenging to say the least, and is best done with a very light touch. Shire’s squad in the 125th Ohio all have their own reasons for fighting. One is out to revenge his parents’ deaths at the hands of pro-slavery bushwhackers, another is a furnace worker after the sign-up bounty. Shire himself primarily sees the army as a means to get south and closer to Clara. Mason, a part-Iroquois lawyer, is perhaps the most nobly motivated, fighting for equality for all and seeing the Union, flawed as it was, as freedom’s best chance.

You might consider that the case for the Union is made easier by exposing the argument for succession made by the new Confederacy: the smaller collection of states who decided to begin and then fight a long war to preserve and extend slavery. Against that lowest of benchmarks, it’s not too hard to see why people would fight for the other side. Common humanity isn’t exclusive to our century. Ultimately, after Lincoln made his emancipation proclamation in the middle of the war, the case for the Union and for abolition were effectively merged. Winning the war would deliver both.

I was researching in Tennessee the day of the Brexit vote, the UKs decision to leave the European Union. The day before, I’d been reading firsthand accounts from the 1860s in the archives of the East Tennessee History Museum in Knoxville.  Disunion – secession – came in via democracy. Each southern state voted to depart, leaving American patriots, notably in Eastern Tennessee, high and dry, forcing them to leave a Union they fervently believed in. What came after was horrific. Outside the killing of a generation on the battlefields, at home there was imprisonment, murder and fratricide. The grief and the strife lasted for decades. Even today, over a hundred and sixty years later, you can still easily find echoes of the war.

As I sat in Eastern Tennessee, the day after the vote, reading the voices from America’s time of disunion, the parallels with the problems in Europe were frightening: a Union arguing over its own imperfections, hotheads on both sides exaggerating dire consequences, freedoms of the individual clashing with economic imperatives. Different sorts of Union often only come about after schism: the United States after the war of independence, the League of Nations after World War I, the European Union has its roots in the ashes of World War II. Sadly, disunion is rarely any less painful.

Ultimately, people don’t read historical fiction to brush up on constitutional matters. We read it to empathise with the characters, their struggles and triumphs, to enjoy the odyssey and the climax. Perhaps, above all, to be transported to another time. To achieve the latter, a writer is obliged to strive to see their characters’ world through their hearts and minds and try to understand the wider questions and motivations of their age.

Shire's Union Trilogy

Shire leaves his home and his life in Victorian England for the sake of a childhood promise, a promise that pulls him into the bleeding heart of the American Civil War. Lost in the bloody battlefields of the West, he discovers a second home for his loyalty.

Clara believes she has escaped from a predictable future of obligation and privilege, but her new life in the Appalachian Hills of Tennessee is decaying around her. In the mansion of Comrie, long hidden secrets are being slowly exhumed by a war that creeps ever closer.

The Shire’s Union trilogy is at once an outsider’s odyssey through the battle for Tennessee, a touching story of impossible love, and a portrait of America at war with itself. Self-interest and conflict, betrayal and passion, all fuse into a fateful climax.

Written by award winning author Richard Buxton, the Shire’s Union trilogy begins with Whirligig, is continued in The Copper Road, and concludes with Tigers in Blue.

Read Shire's Union Trilogy through Amazon or Amazon UK!

Connect with Richard Buxton

Richard lives with his family in the South Downs, Sussex, England. He completed an MA in Creative Writing at Chichester University in 2014. He has an abiding relationship with America, having studied at Syracuse University, New York State, in the late eighties. He travels extensively for research, especially in Tennessee, Georgia and Ohio, and is rarely happier than when setting off from a motel to spend the day wandering a battlefield or imagining the past close beside the churning wheel of a paddle steamer.

Richard’s short stories have won the Exeter Story Prize, the Bedford International Writing Competition and the Nivalis Short Story Award. His first novel, Whirligig (2017) was shortlisted for the Rubery International Book Award. It was followed by The Copper Road (2020) and the Shire’s Union trilogy was completed by Tigers in Blue (2023). To learn more about Richard’s writing visit

Tuesday, May 28, 2024

Women in the Civil War

I'm pleased to welcome Kinley Bryan as my guest today. She shares insight into the roles of women during the American Civil War, a subject I find interesting because James A Hamilton's daughters participated in some of the work described. James was in his seventies at the time, but he still served as an advisor to President Lincoln and Treasury Secretary Salmon Chase. The Hamilton women had long been involved in charitable work, so they naturally answered the call for help when war broke out between the states. Before I get carried away talking about the Hamiltons, I will turn it over to Kinley!

~ Samantha


Women in the Civil War

Guest Post by Kinley Bryan

As both a reader and writer of historical fiction, I’m always interested in women’s experiences of historical events. My latest novel, The Lost Women of Mill Street, offers a look at the American Civil War from the perspective of southern female mill workers. It’s one perspective of many, for women took on myriad new roles during the war. In the North, women of all races and social classes contributed to the Union war effort by organizing sanitary fairs and working as nurses. They also served as spies and—though forbidden—combatants. And some southern Unionist women courageously helped Union soldiers in times of danger.

Sanitary Fairs

Soon after the start of the war, women began organizing soldiers’ aid societies. In June 1861 the United States Sanitary Commission was formed under the authority of the government, although it was privately funded. Women and girls throughout the North knitted socks, sewed shirts, and collected money to support the USSC. Women also organized sanitary fairs in cities throughout the North to raise money for the sanitary commission. These fairs featured art, parades, dances, museums, merchandise sales, and auctions, raising hundreds of thousands of dollars.


Before the war, few female nurses publicly practiced medicine. In the first couple months of fighting, both the Union and Confederate armies preferred having men serve as nurses, believing women did not belong in hospitals. However, the armies were soon overwhelmed with wounded soldiers and those in charge reconsidered their views. 

In June 1861, Dorothea Dix was appointed Superintendent of Nurses for the Union Army and led the recruitment of women to serve in the nursing corps. According to the Army Heritage Foundation, roughly 3,300 women served as nurses for the Union Army during the war, overcoming their male colleagues’ objections “through appeals to national pride, patriotic duty, and through hard work and dedicated service to the sick and wounded soldiers that filled the nation’s hospitals.”

Southern Unionists

The South was not unified in its view on secession. In Women of the War by Frank Moore, published in 1866, the author recounts the experiences of a number of women from seceded states who courageously helped the Union Army. In one instance, two Tennessee women in the dark of night waved lanterns at an approaching Union Army train; after the train slowed to a stop, the women warned them that Confederate guerillas had destroyed the railroad bridge up ahead.

Moore also describes how, in 1862, a Kentucky woman whose husband fought for the Union was home alone when eleven Confederate soldiers raided her property. As they relaxed by the fireplace, she stole their muskets, shot and killed one who tried to get them back, and the next morning marched the rest at gunpoint to a nearby Union camp.

Spies and Combatants

Though women were barred from military service, there were some who, disguising themselves as men, served in the Union Army. Others served as spies. Harriet Tubman, the formerly enslaved woman known for leading hundreds of people to freedom on the Underground Railroad, was also a Union spy. Having volunteered for the Union as a cook and nurse, she was recruited by Union officers to establish a network of spies behind enemy lines. Disguised as a field hand, Tubman led scouting and spying missions and reported valuable intelligence to Union officers. At the same time, she continued to help enslaved people flee to freedom.


The Lost Women of Mill Street

1864: As Sherman’s army marches toward Atlanta, a cotton mill commandeered by the Confederacy lies in its path. Inside the mill, Clara Douglas weaves cloth and watches over her sister Kitty, waiting for the day her fiancĂ© returns from the West.

When Sherman’s troops destroy the mill, Clara’s plans to start a new life in Nebraska are threatened. Branded as traitors by the Federals, Clara, Kitty, and countless others are exiled to a desolate refugee prison hundreds of miles from home.

Cut off from all they've ever known, Clara clings to hope while grappling with doubts about her fiancĂ©’s ambitions and the unsettling truths surrounding his absence. As the days pass, the sisters find themselves thrust onto the foreign streets of Cincinnati, a city teeming with uncertainty and hostility. She must summon reserves of courage, ingenuity, and strength she didn’t know she had if they are to survive in an unfamiliar, unwelcoming land.

Inspired by true events of the Civil War, The Lost Women of Mill Street is a vividly drawn novel about the bonds of sisterhood, the strength of women, and the repercussions of war on individual lives.

Connect with Kinley Bryan

Kinley Bryan's debut novel, Sisters of the Sweetwater Fury, inspired by the Great Lakes Storm of 1913 and her own family history, won the 2022 Publishers Weekly Selfies Award for adult fiction. An Ohio native, she lives in South Carolina with her husband and three children. The Lost Women of Mill Street is her second novel.

Connect with Kinley on her website, Twitter(X), Facebook, Instagram, Book Bub, Amazon Author Page, and Goodreads.  

Sunday, May 26, 2024

Pairings: Historical Fiction & Nonfiction

I recently saw a brilliant library post suggesting nonfiction books related to popular novels, and I thought it would be fun to do the same with my own books. If you've read one of my novels, you might have noticed that I include a list of sources at the end. Looking for something simpler? Just one (or two) suggestions per book? I hear you, so here are my nonfiction recommendations to pair with each of my novels.

But One Life, my most recent novel, explores the life of American patriot Nathan Hale. I wanted to find out more about this young man, who became famous for announcing that his only regret was that he had but one life to give for his country before he was executed by the British as a spy in 1776. One of the best sources of information about Nathan Hale was the collection of documents by George D Seymour, the same man who purchased the Nathan Hale Homestead and had it established as a historic site. However, most readers are not particularly interested in flipping through hundreds of pages of documents, so I'll suggest a biography by M William Phelps, Nathan Hale: The Life and Death of America's First Spy.

I also cannot mention this novel without giving a shoutout to Digital Yarbs for the reconstruction of Nathan Hale's image based on the statue of him in New York's City Hall Park. I'm thankful for this unique image for my cover art. Since we're talking cover art, the artwork for the rest of my novels was created by my oldest son, Tyler, so that is also pretty awesome!

I started writing Luminous because I was so inspired by Kate Moore's The Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America's Shining Women, so I can't imagine recommending anything else as its nonfiction pairing. I was in the middle of writing a novel set in 12th century England when I casually listened to Moore's book on Audible. I stopped everything I was doing, ordered it in paperback to take notes, and traveled to Ottawa, Illinois to learn everything I could about Catherine Donohue, the dial painter I had decided to focus on for my novel. Catherine's story is equal parts heartbreaking and inspiring, and I was greatly moved by her perseverance and faith. I will always be thankful that Moore's work raised awareness of these women's fight. 

And, no, I never have gone back to that half-finished manuscript. Maybe someday...

Before my detour over into American history, my books were all early Tudor era. I have a habit of deciding what I'm going to write sort of on a whim. I had no intentions of writing about Queen Mary I until one of my beta readers for Faithful Traitor commented that it would be nice to read about what happened to the poor, little princess who Margaret Pole had served as governess. When I set out to prove that novels like that had already been written, well, I guess you know the rest of the story. I wrote Queen of Martyrs because Mary seemed like a woman who deserved to have her own story told instead of always appearing on the sidelines of books about her father or younger sister. I can't recommend only one nonfiction pairing for this, because I found both of these books to be priceless resources on understanding Mary as a person and as a Catholic. Linda Porter's The First Queen of England and Eamon Duffy's Fires of Faith: Catholic England under Mary Tudor are the books I recommend if you would like to learn more.

Mary had already shown up as part of Margaret Pole's story in Faithful Traitor, and I loved the idea that Margaret and Katherine of Aragon had discussed a possible marriage between Mary and Margaret's son, Reginald. Now that I've started recommending two nonfiction reads, I may as well continue. One can never have too many books! At the time I was writing about Margaret Pole, Hazel Pierce's biography was the only one available, so I scoured it for details. Since then, Susan Higginbotham has written Margaret Pole: The Countess in the Tower that is probably more accessible than Pierce's. I haven't read it, but I have enjoyed several of Higginbotham's novels and feel confident enough to recommend seeking it out. Also very academic but a great resource is Thomas Mayer's Reginald Pole: Prince & Prophet

I find Reginald so fascinating that I also have written a novella about him called Prince of York. Did you know he was almost pope? And he was friends with Michelangelo? Maybe I should extend that novella into a full-length novel. (Yes, dear reader, this is how my writing decisions are made.)

Now we have made our way back to my first novel. When I wrote Plantagenet Princess Tudor Queen, I had no idea that it would be the first of a series of three novels and three novellas. I'm not much of a planner and tend to decide what I'm writing when I finish what I'm working on. (No, it is not a habit I recommend.) So, when I was researching Elizabeth of York, I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. This book remains my most frequent best seller, and I'm very happy to have shined a spotlight on the first Tudor queen, who is often overshadowed by the bombastic men she was surrounded by. My favorite resource when writing this was actually a biography of Elizabeth's husband, Henry VII. If you write about historical women, you often find yourself reading biographies of men and hunting for tidbits about the ladies in their lives. Of course, Henry's story was a very important part of Elizabeth's, so Winter King: Henry VII and the Dawn of Tudor England was a great read. For more about Elizabeth, you can try Alison Weir's Elizabeth of York: A Tudor Queen and Her World. I enjoyed some of the detail in this, but you'll also have to get through Weir's oft repeated rant about Richard III. The biography includes more information than the one by Amy Licence, so I'll keep it here.

These are just a few of the resources that I have used for each of my novels. If you are interested in additional reading, take a peek at the final few pages in any one of my books, and you will find a longer list. Perhaps, I should have also suggested a wine to pair with each read? Ah well, select the beverage of your choice and happy reading!

Tuesday, May 21, 2024

1294 . . . a bad year for Edward I

It's been a while since we talked medieval on this blog! I've been considering a return to a much earlier chapter for my next story, so when I had the opportunity to host author Anna Belfrage, I couldn't say no. A love for British history isn't the only thing Anna and I have in common. We both participated in the Women's History Month special for Historical Writers Forum a couple of years ago. She is a brilliant, prolific writer, so I will hand the reins over to her.

Welcome, Anna!

~ Samantha 


1294 . . . a bad year for Edward I

Guest Post by Anna Belfrage

My latest release, Their Castilian Orphan, is primarily set in 1294. Why? Well, because it was a bad, bad year for Edward I. Mind you, I think he was of the opinion most years after the death of his wife in 1290 were pretty bad, but a year in which he was tricked out of his lands in France must qualify as exceptionally bad, right? 

Edward I

Before we go on to detail the events of 1294, we’re going to need some backstory. That backstory starts with the Sicilian Vespers. And yes, I forgive you, lovely peeps, if your immediate reaction isn’t “The Sicilian Vespers – but of course!”

For those of us fascinated by 13th century politics and all its bloody connotations, the Sicilian Vespers can be seen as a beginning for many things. In 1282 the Sicilians rebelled against the heavy-handed rule of Charles of Anjou, a younger brother of St Louis of France, and were supported in their rebellion by Peter of Aragon, who was of the opinion Sicily rightfully belonged to his wife, Constanza. 

I lean towards agreeing with Peter. Charles of Anjou used the support of the papacy to oust Manfred Hohenstaufen (Constanza’s father). He also went on to capture Manfred’s family. His young widow was brutally separated from her children and would die in captivity. Constanza’s half-brothers were put in chains and locked up, despite the eldest only being six. Purportedly, Charles also had the young boys maimed. Constanza’s half-sister was put under lock and key—alone. In brief, Charles comes across as brutal. But then, kings at the time were brutal. One only needs to remember how Edward I handled Dafydd ap Gruffydd’s children. They too were locked up—forever. 

Back to our backstory: As a consequence of the Sicilian Vespers, the crown of Sicily passed to Peter of Aragon—on behalf of his wife. In Rome, the pope was furious. The papacy ordered Peter to return the crown to Charles. I am thinking he got the medieval equivalent of a middle finger in return . . . The pope retaliated by excommunicating Peter.

The pope wasn’t the only one who was angry. Leaving aside the apoplectic Charles of Anjou himself, his nephew, Philippe III of France, was just as incensed. Losing Sicily meant more of the Mediterranean under Aragonese control, and that did not please the French. So when the pope declared a crusade against Aragon, Philippe III was more than happy to lead it. 

Initially, the French saw some success. They even managed to crown Philippe’s second son, Charles of Valois, as king of Aragon, but theirs was a fleeting moment of triumph. In 1286, what little remained of the French army staggered back home. Philippe III was dead of dysentery, replaced by his teenaged son, Philippe IV. Instead of covering themselves in glory, the French were humiliated.

Philippe IV & fam

This led to an unstable political situation in Europe. The pope was still demanding Sicily be returned to Charles of Anjou. The French refused to sign a peace treaty with Aragon without the pope’s blessing. In Aragon, Peter had died, replaced by his eldest son, Alfonso (who was also Philippe IV’s first cousin). Plus, at some point Aragon had got their hands on Charles of Anjou’s eldest son, Charles of Salerno, and were holding him captive. This, dear peeps, is when Edward I waded into the fray, despite being pissed off with the pope for having redirected monies intended to finance Edward’s “real” crusade to the Holy Land to this stupid and failed venture in Aragon.

During the years 1286-1289, Edward spent all his time in Gascony, negotiating a treaty acceptable to all parties. He had a vested interest in that Charles of Salerno was his cousin, but more than that, Edward needed a treaty so as to send off his eldest daughter to marry Alfonso of Aragon. But the French demanded some sort of compensation for Charles of Valois’ lost crown (!) and were generally reluctant to any compromise—as was the pope. 

In 1288, some sort of treaty was signed, and everything was finally sorted. Not. The conflict between the pope and the crown of Aragon would continue into the next century.

So what does all this have to do with 1294? Well, Charles of Valois supposedly never forgave Edward for “giving away his rightful crown”. Plus, I think Philippe IV was not exactly enamoured of the fact that a huge chunk of land within his kingdom was ruled by Edward. 

Gascony was part of France, and accordingly, Edward I had to do homage to Philippe IV. Not something he fully enjoyed, what with him being much older than Philippe and (I’m guessing) quite convinced he was the superior monarch of the two. Philippe was to prove to the entire world that he deffo considered himself the most superior person around—not only was he to destroy the Templars, he was also to relocate the pope to Avignon, keeping His Holiness firmly under the royal thumb. But in 1294, all that lay in the future, the very handsome Philippe some years shy of thirty having his hands full with France and his siblings. One such sibling was Marguerite, and seeing as the English king was recently widowed, it was Philippe’s considered opinion that his half-sister would make Edward an excellent queen.

Edward was not opposed. I don’t think he wanted to marry again—he’d shared over thirty years with his Eleanor and likely missed her for the rest of his life—but he didn’t have a choice. After all, Edward only had one surviving son, and everyone knew a king needed at least an heir and a spare. 

Other than sorting the potential “spare” issue, marrying Marguerite would reconfirm the happy relationship between the House of Capet and the House of Plantagenet. Since fifty or so years back, the French and the English kings had not only been brother kings, but also family. Henry III of England and Louis IX of France married sisters. Henry’s brother, Richard of Cornwall and Louis’ brother Charles of Anjou married the two remaining sisters, which likely had the Count of Provence hissing a satisfied “yessss!” as he saw all four of his daughters so well settled. (Raymond was, however, dead, before his fourth daughter wed. . .)

In the early 1290s, Edward was expending most of his efforts on Scotland—in some years to become his primary concern. Once he’d managed the Scottish matter to his satisfaction, it was 1293 and the French/English relations had nose-dived. Late in 1292, there was a major brawl in a Norman port between English and French mariners. Come May of 1293, that brawl assumed massive proportions, a fleet of English and Gascon ships attacked by Norman ships who flew red streamers, thereby indicating they would give no quarter. Turns out the English and Gascons ships were better captained, and several French ships, including crew and cargoes, were captured. 

The French were incensed. This is an opportune moment to suggest that someone high up in the hierarchy had instigated that brawl in Normandy, someone like Charles of Valois, who very much wanted to rub the English nose in something. The English chroniclers openly accused him of fanning the flames of discord.  
Edward had no desire to lock horns with the French, not when the entire Christian world had recently been shocked by the Muslim capture of Acre. No, Edward wanted to go on a crusade, and with the new, hostile situation in the Holy Land, the Church was more than eager to bankroll such a venture. But for Edward to be able to ride east, he needed peace with his neighbour, so when the French sent a sequence of irritated messages regarding their captured ships, Edward suggested three different solutions: his first suggestion was that the matter be sorted according to English law. One could argue that as it was the French who were the aggressors, this made some sense, but Edward must have known the French would refuse that outright. His second suggestion was that the matter be handled by a commission set up by France and England. His third suggestion was that the matter be put before the pope. 

The French refused all three suggestions. This, according to the French, was not a dispute between two kings. Oh, no: it was a dispute between the French king and his vassal, the duke of Gascony (!!!) I imagine that did not go over well with Edward. The French ships, after all, had attacked English ships. 
Late in 1293, Edward was rudely summoned to Paris, the wording borderline offensive as the French king demanded his unruly vassal to present himself before him. 

“In your dreams,” Edward muttered—or whatever the medieval equivalent was. But he sent immediate instructions to his brother Edmund, who was presently in France, to somehow sort this mess. 

Edmund of Lancaster was, obviously, also a close relative to the French king. But he was also the step-father of Philippe’s queen, having taken as his second wife Blanche of Artois, who was wed to Henri, King of Navarre, and gave him a daughter, Jeanne, before Henri departed this world. 

Edmund, together with his wife and step-daughter—and Philippe’s step-mother, Marie of Brabant—started working on a compromise. Philippe himself was in and out of the room, and one gets the impression that Philippe was presenting himself as most amenable towards finding a peaceable solution. Edmund definitely believed he was making progress. Turns out he was wrong.

The compromise hammered out by Edmund and the ladies involved the surrender of several Gascon towns to Philippe—on the understanding that this was for show only. Edward would publicly express remorse and reiterate his loyalty, and the French king would then kiss his loyal duke and return the surrendered towns and hostages. Everyone would live happily ever after and to really ice the cake, Edward would marry Marguerite. 

In February of 1294, Edward fulfilled his part of the deal. And then he waited. And waited. At some point, it became clear for Edmund (and the ladies) that Philippe, egged on by his brother Charles of Valois and many of his counsellors, had no intention of honouring the deal. 

In April of 1294, Edward’s seneschal in Gascony, John St John, crossed over to England to inform his king that the French had no intention of returning the Gascon towns. 

For Edward, this was a terrible humiliation. It also killed any remaining hopes he may have had to go on crusade—he could not leave while his kingdom was at war with France, and one thing was certain: Philippe’s actions meant war. By the summer of 1294, Edward was mustering a huge army in Portsmouth. 

In England, there was a major ruckus when the barons understood just what had happened in Gascony (Edward had kept all of this close to his chest) Many were the voices suggesting this was all due to an old man lusting for a much younger bride. At the June parliament of 1294, Edward swore to the assembled magnates that he had not acted as he did out of lust, but because he desired to have peace with France so he could set off on his crusade. Apparently, he did this so eloquently he had the people present baying for French blood.  

The king had planned to have his troops cross the Channel during the summer, but the weather had other ideas. The major invasion was now set for September, but yet again, the weather refused to cooperate. And it was at this point in time that Edward got the news that really put 1294 at the top of the “most hated years ever”, likely coming a close second to 1290, the year Eleanor died. You see, in October the Welsh rebelled.

Edward’s amassed forces were hastily deployed to Wales and the rebels were ultimately crushed. But in Gascony, the French still ruled, and it would take many years before some sort of peace was re-established. 

Personally, I believe the Gascon conflict embittered Edward. Indirectly, the machinations of Philippe contributed to creating the ruthless king who was to ride so roughshod over the Scots. Not, of course, an excuse: Edward—and only Edward—bears the responsibility for his actions. And the Welsh, of course, would point out that he was pretty ruthless back in 1282/83 when he invaded Wales . . . 

Their Castilian Orphan

It is 1294 and Eustace de Lamont is back in England after five years in exile. He will stop at nothing to ruin Robert FitzStephan and his wife, Noor d’Outremer.

Robert’s half brother, Eustace de Lamont, has not mellowed during his absence. He is more ruthless than ever, and this time he targets Robert’s and Noor’s foster son, Lionel.

Lionel is serving King Edward as a page when Eustace appears at court. Not only does Lionel become the horrified witness to Eustace’s violent streak, Eustace also starts voicing his suspicions about Lionel’s parentage. The truth about Lionel’s heritage is explosive—should King Edward find out, all would be lost for Robert and Noor.

In October of 1294, Wales rises in rebellion. Robert must leave his family unprotected to fight the Welsh rebels on the king’s behalf, comforted only by the fact that Eustace too is called to fight.

Except that Eustace has no intention of allowing his duty to his king—or a mere rebellion—come between him and his desire to destroy Robert FitzStephan . . .

Connect with Anna

Had Anna been allowed to choose, she’d have become a time-traveller. As this was impossible, she became a financial professional with three absorbing interests: history, romance and writing. Anna has authored the acclaimed time travelling series The Graham Saga, set in 17th century Scotland and Maryland, as well as the equally acclaimed medieval series The King’s Greatest Enemy which is set in 14th century England. Anna has just released the final instalment, Their Castilian Orphan, in her other medieval series, The Castilian Saga,which is set against the conquest of Wales. She has recently released Times of Turmoil, a sequel to her time travel romance, The Whirlpools of Time, and is now considering just how to wiggle out of setting the next book in that series in Peter the Great’s Russia, as her characters are demanding. . .

All of Anna’s books have been awarded the IndieBRAG Medallion, she has several Historical Novel Society Editor’s Choices, and one of her books won the HNS Indie Award in 2015. She is also the proud recipient of various Reader’s Favorite medals as well as having won various Gold, Silver and Bronze Coffee Pot Book Club awards.