In the midst of winter, The Olive Farm took me away to hot sunny France

Olive FarmReading Carol Drinkwater‘s The Olive Farm was like taking a holiday in the sun, which I desperately needed in the middle of a long, cold Midwestern winter. I could feel the heat of the sun, smell the earth, the flowers and see the magnificent vistas of the South of France and pretend I was there sipping wine instead of slipping on ice.

This was a great read, in the vein of Frances Mayes‘ Under the Tuscan Sun or Peter Mayles’ A Year in Provence.

Like the authors of those excellent, engaging books, Carol Drinkwater and her husband Michel buy a run-down property in a sunny southern climate as a retreat from their usual lives. Theirs is an olive farm in the south of France, near Cannes. The main house has a moldy pool, a leaky roof, broken windows and no kitchen. The olive trees themselves are neglected. But the bones of the place are solid.

The book spans the first several years of their live at the farm—years in which they marry and Carol adjusts to being a step-mother, pet owner, home owner. Renovations go slowly, and problems abound. Contractors fleece them and/or do sub-standard work. Finances are tight and they risk losing the farm several times. They get burgled. But they endure, the vision they had for the house and farm begins to materialize. The last stage in the process is the reinvigoration of the olive farm and the pressing of their own olive oil.

Drinkwater is not funny and dry like Peter Mayles, or food-focused like Frances Mayles.  But she is an honest writer and I loved her candor about her life, its difficulties, joys and sorrows of which she has plenty.  Although she is a well-known British actress, there was very little in the book about her acting, which I thought was appropriate and again, kept the tone “real.”

I had this book on my shelf for several years and pulled it out just at the right time. It is still winter in Wisconsin, but Carol Drinkwater gave me a taste of the hot summer to come. Just maybe I’ll dust off my passport for sunny France.

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The Beginning of the End – Rizzio’s Murder at Holyrood

English: The Murder of David Rizzio, oil on pa...

English: The Murder of David Rizzio, oil on panel, Depicts the killing of David Rizzio, secretary to Mary, Queen of Scots, by a group of nobles including Lord Darnley (the Queen’s husband), Lord Ruthven and the Earl of Morton (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Today marks the 447th anniversary of David Rizzio’s murder in Mary Queen of Scots’ chamber at Holyrood Palace.  Rizzio’s gruesome murder on March 9, 1566 marked a watershed in Mary Stuart’s reign in Scotland.  One could call it the beginning of the end.  Rizzio himself was not all that important except as a focal point for the Protestant Scottish nobles, led by Patrick, Lord Ruthven and aided and abetted by Mary’s husband Henry, Lord Darnley.   The pact that sealed Rizzio’s death also sealed Darnley’s, though he could not have known it at the time.  Rizzio’s death was the first in a series of incidents that destabilized Mary’s reign.  Eighteen months later Mary was forced to abdicate in favor of her son James.

David Riccio di Pancalieri was born about 1533 to a well-known Piedmontese family somewhere near Turin, Italy.  He was employed by the Duke of Savoy as a valet and musician and traveled with the Duke’s ambassador, Signor di Moretta to Scotland in 1561.  He left the Duke’s employ to become one of Mary’s musicians – she needed a bass singer!  This was not a particular sign of favor, according to John Guy in The True Life of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots Mary “always” had musicians and minstrels on her payroll including five viol players, three lute players, several pipers and a shawm (early oboe) player.  Most contemporary sources agree that David “Davy” Rizzio was ugly.  Lady Fraser, author of Mary, Queen of Scots reports he “extremely ugly by the standards of the time, his face being considered ill-favored and his stature small and hunched.

How did Rizzio go from a singer in a “band” to Mary’s private secretary?   Prior to 1564 Mary’s French secretary was Raulett, a cipherer who was also a retainer of the Guise family, her relations on her mother’s side.  He was the only person beside Mary who had the key to the black box that contained her secret papers.  In the run up to Mary’s marriage to Darnley, something must have happened to precipitate Raulett’s dismissal.  She replaced him with David Rizzio – a move that seems odd in that he does not, on the face of it, appear to have been qualified.

Not long after Rizzio took over Mary’s French correspondence, she took a shine to her cousin Henry, Lord Darnley—the great-grandson of Henry VII through his daughter Margaret.  By April 1565 she was crazy in love with Darnley, so much that the English Ambassador Randolph said she “whom ever before I esteemed so worthy, so wise, so honorable in all her doings” was now altered “to the utter contempt of her best subjects.”   But as Darnley rose in Mary’s opinion he was falling out of favor with the Scots nobles who thought him arrogant and unpleasant.

Rizzio was riding high in favor of both Mary and Darnley in 1565.  John Guy flat out says the two men were found in bed together.  Clearly no one mentioned this to Mary, but Lady Fraser suggests the Four Maries and the majority of Scots nobles were against the match. Fraser notes that Rizzio was the only person who really supported her marriage to Darnley.

Mary’s marriage to Darnley was a disaster.  It provoked the Scots nobles, notably Mary’s brother James Stewart, Earl of Moray into a rebellion, ostensibly because they feared the return of Catholicism to Scotland.  Darnley was a member of the Lennox Stewart clan and there was a not unreasonable fear that clan’s power would overwhelm the others—in particular Moray and others who were de facto ousted from their closeness to Mary.  Moray fled to England where he continued to stir the nobles.

Darnley expected to become King Henry by receiving the crown matrimonial.  Even before the bloom was off their marriage, which didn’t take long, Mary shied from granting him that power.  When Darnley took out his frustrations on Rizzio, who he began to feel had undue influence on Mary.   It was not difficult for dissatisfied Protestant Lords to convince Darnley they could kill Rizzio and put him on the throne.   They convinced Darnley that Mary was committing adultery with Rizzio and further suggested he was a spy for the Pope. (No evidence exists to suggest he was anything on than a singer who gained the trust of a sovereign.)

More than a dozen Scottish nobles conspired to kill Rizzio in the Queen’s presence.  They ambushed Rizzio’s in Mary’s supper chamber – a small narrow room (I’ve seen it, amazingly tiny)—at Holyrood and demanded Mary hand him over.  She refused and in response had a gun pointed at her — Mary was seven month’s pregnant at the time.  They stabbed Rizzio more than 50 times before throwing him down the staircase, stripped of his jewels and clothes.  He was buried within a few hours of his death somewhere in the grounds at Holyrood.

It is not clear to me how much real power and influence Rizzio had with Mary.  He certainly died with a large sum of money (over £2,000, which is a lot for a man who made just £80/year), so perhaps he was taking bribes and peddling influence.  It is clear he rose high, had few friends and far too many enemies.

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An accurate portrayal at the expense of empathy? The Forgotten Queen by D. L. Bogdan

The Forgotten QueenI was keen to read a novel about Margaret Tudor, the feisty grandmother of Mary, Queen of Scots.  Unfortunately, I liked Margaret Tudor less at the end of the book than I did at the beginning.

I’ve read a fair bit of history on Margaret and Mary, the sisters of Henry VIII – enough to know that D. L. Bogdan’s The Forgotten Queen is a fairly historically accurate, if fictionalized, account of the life and times of Margaret Tudor, Queen Consort of Scotland’s James IV.   It is a well-written chronological telling of Margaret’s life, from her childhood at Sheen to her three marriages in Scotland finally her last role as mother of James V.

Early in the novel, Bogdan does a good job of setting the stage for the later enmity Henry VIII had for his sister.  Keep in mind Henry VIII left Margaret and her heirs out of his will and out of the English succession.  Scotland and England were constantly on the brink of war–there were many Border skirmishes and several outright heartbreaking bloody battles, such as Flodden where James IV died.  Against this reality, Margaret struggled with where her loyalty lay – to England as a Tudor Princess, or to Scotland as a Stewart Queen and mother of the heir.  Bogdan captures this tension well.  Bogdan also does a great job evoking Scotland and its palaces – places I visited last year like Linlithgow, Holyrood, and Falkland.

But I’ll just say it.  As the main character in a novel, this Margaret Tudor left me cold.  I wanted to warm to her, but she was vain, greedy, petty and a bit of a narcissist.  Now perhaps she really was all those things, but it did not make me like her, or really want to read about her.  She was utterly lacking in humility.  (She might have been a bit like her brother Henry).  Ultimately, her negative character traits were not offset by enough positive traits.   It may have been an accurate portrayal of Margaret, but it could have used some empathy.  Perhaps that was hard given some of Margaret’s decisions.

This was my first D. L. Bogdan novel.  Despite my feelings for this Margaret Tudor, I would definitely read another.

So if you like all things Tudor, it is worth a read. And if you didn’t have much passion for Margaret Tudor before, you may not upon finishing the book.  I’d be interested to hear what you think.  Below I’ve linked to another review of The Forgotten Queen.

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Tough times for gentry in Doughty’s Come Rain, Come Shine

Come Rain, Come Shine by Anne Doughty

Come Rain, Come Shine by Anne Doughty

This review was originally published by the Historical Novel Society in the Historical Novel Review, February 2013.  

Ireland in the early 1960s: Savvy, sophisticated Clare Hamilton returns from France to her native Armagh to marry Andrew, her childhood sweetheart, and run his ancestral home as a B&B. Business goes well for a time but falls off with the rise of package holidays abroad and sectarian violence in nearby Ulster, leaving Clare and Andrew finding it difficult to make ends meet. Clare is the creative, upbeat, come-rain, come-shine heroine, while Andrew is pleasant but struggles to create a successful law practice and really wants to be a farmer.

This is the fourth novel in Doughty’s Hamilton sequence and covers the time period 1960 to 1966. Come Rain, Come Shine is a smooth read with likeable characters. Armagh and the places Clare and Andrew visit are beautifully evoked — the author’s familiarity with the landscape comes through. Doughty captures the classic Irish phrasing and culture so much it made me smile.

But I felt that for the time period, Clare and Andrew had more luxury-related problems than the general population at a time when unemployment was rife. Andrew refuses a lordship but wants to farm, loses his law partnership, and gets cheap office rent in Armagh. I wished for antagonists with more depth, a bit more conflict with higher stakes, particularly in the time when the North of Ireland was riddled with dissent and violence between Catholics and Protestants.

Quest for the origins of supernormal species tantalizes in “A Discovery of Witches”

Discoveryofwitches

“A Discovery of Witches” is clever, interesting, well-written fiction that is so good I read it twice.  I almost never do that. It is one of the most engrossing, entertaining novels I’ve read in a long, long time.  I picked it up on the recommendation of a friend for a light romantic read, and while there was romance, there was so much more.  It had me hooked from the first page and I did not speak anyone for three days while I read it and its sequel “Shadow of Night.”  I’m just sorry I have to wait for the third volume in the trilogy…and the film.

In the world created by author Deborah Harkness witches, vampires and daemons live alongside us ordinary humans.  In this supernormal world we meet Diana Bishop, American descendant of Salem witch Rebecca Bishop. Diana’s is at England’s prestigious Oxford University as a visiting history of science professor reading 16th century manuscripts.  During her research Diana comes across an enchanted book on alchemy that immediately stirs up the vampires, witches and daemons.  The book–Ashmole 782–is thought to be a magical “Origin of the Species,” and each faction wants it for its own purposes but none has been unable to access it.  Diana has a unique ability to attract and open the book, and the supernormals are quite willing to threaten Diana’s life to gain access.  But Diana’s a witch who has turned her back on magic, and has no idea what she did or why the book responded to her alone.  Neither does the Congregation, the governing body of supernatural beings, whose attention is now as riveted on Diana and the powers she may possess as it is on Ashmole 782.

Also interested in Ashmole 782 is devastatingly handsome 1500 year old vampire Mathew Clairmont (I picture Eric Bana in this role, Hollywood hear me!).  He wants the book as much as the other supernormals, but with a slightly different purpose. He is a geneticist and has discovered that each supernormal species is showing early signs of extinction.  He believes the book may explain how the four species developed from one, and how to save them.

When Matthew meets Diana sparks fly, passion simmers and they are inexplicably drawn to each other.  But their love defies long-established rules of species segregation and brings them into further conflict with those seeking the magical book.They find shelter with their families, overcoming established prejudices, as they seek to understand Diana’s power as a witch, her reluctance to use it and how she, and she alone, could call Ashmole 782.  Villains materialize, good conquers evil–for the moment–but the stakes are high.

And I can’t tell you more.  I’d spoil it.  you have to read it.  Then we can talk about it.

I’m not a huge vampire-witch fan, and definitely no Twi-Hard, so the fact I loved this book comes as a surprise.  The mix of history and magic pulled me in along with some great characters.  Harkness draws her characters very well – there’s lots of conflict, large and small, and plenty of room for character growth, change.   The themes are fundamental and universal: where do we come from? How do we fit in? Why can’t we love where we choose?  The stakes–survival of each species–could not be higher.

I loved the settings–Upstate New York, rural France and (sigh) Oxford, England.  The production company will have an easy time with location shoots.  Harkness did a particularly great job of describing life in Oxford.  Once upon a time I lived there, so I relished the descriptions of the river, the colleges and the surround area. (Sigh. I must go watch some Morse or Inspector Lewis, just for a fix.)

If the Oxford setting drew me in, what kept me going was the history of  science that permeates the novel.  It kept the book fresh, and different.  From discussing the works of early alchemists in the context of the development of modern scientific enquiry, to framing the Origins of the Species and work on extinction as one of the driving forces behind Matthew Clairmont.  Brilliant!

Loved, loved it. Deb Harkness please hurry with the last book in the trilogy!

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Mary Queen of Scots executed Chastelard 450 years ago today. Why?

Mary Stuart and Chastelard by Linton, Sir James Dromgole (1840-1916); Private Collection; (add.info.: Mary Stuart and Chastelard. Illustration for Mary Queen of Scots edited by W Shaw Sparrow (Hodder & Stoughton, c 1910).); © Look and Learn; English, out of copyright

Mary Stuart and Chastelard by Linton, Sir James Dromgole (1840-1916); Private Collection http://www.bridemanart.com #460699

Pierre de Bocosel de Chastelard (1529-1563) was famous for nothing until he surprised Mary, Queen of Scots in her bedchamber (twice) and she had him hanged.  It is a fascinating story to tell on this, the 450th anniversary of his execution (reported as either 20 or 22 February, 1563) at the Mercat Cross in St. Andrews.

Pierre was born about 1529 to Jeanne de Bayard and Francois Bocosel in Dauphiné, in southeastern France.  The family name had prestige, Pierre was the grandson of the famous Chevalier de Bayard known as “the knight without fear and beyond reproach” who symbolized the values of the French knighthood at the end of the Middle Ages.  He was the third of five children, at least two of whom eventually took Holy Orders and rose to run their respective religious houses.  As the middle son, he would have been expected to seek his fortune by carving out a career at court, or in the military.

Pierre chose a life at court, and became a page in the service of Constable Montmorency at the court of Henri II.   Lady Antonia Fraser recounts in Mary Queen of Scots that he was ” well-born, charming-looking, and gallant.”  He tapped into his chivalric ancestry by writing courtly love poems.  He had some talent and achieved recognition as a fringe member of the Pléaiade, a group of 16th-century French Renaissance poets whose principal members were Pierre de Ronsard, Joachim du Bellay and Jean-Antoine de Baïf.

His good looks and way with words may account for how a mere page fell into the orbit of Mary, Queen of Scots, and thus avoided obscurity.  Mary was in residence at the French Court from 1547 until 1561, during her betrothal and marriage to the son of Henri II, Francis and their reign as King and Queen of France.

Pierre fell in love with Mary, who is said to have encouraged his passion.  It is not clear during what time period this flirtation occurred, but most likely it was after the death of Mary’s husband in December 1560.  At any rate, Pierre was in the party escorting Mary back to Scotland in August 1561 with Montmorency’s son.

The story goes that he wrote poems to her–and she wrote back in kind. John Guy writes in his magnificent biography  The True Life of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots that Mary responded to Chastelard’s poems in the spirit of courtly love, nothing more.

Mary may not have harbored any romantic feelings for Chastelard but her behavior gave rise to plenty of gossip.  Who says Mary’s friendship with Chastelard was anything but innocent?  Thomas Randolph, the English Ambassador to Scotland, Brantome, a notoriously unreliable French source and Mary’s nemesis, John Knox all suggest theirs was much more than a friendship.  Note that at this time Mary was busy looking for a new husband from powerful Catholic countries.  If true, why risk the stain on her honour?

In Mary, Queen of Scots and the Murder of Lord Darnley, author Alison Weir recounts Randolph’s claim “that she permitted too great a degree of familiarity with ‘so unworthy a creature and abject a varlet.’”  Weir reports that John Knox also had plenty to say about how “Chastelard was so familiar in the Queen’s cabinet that scarcely could any of the nobility have access to her.”  She “would lie upon Chastelard’s shoulder and sometimes she would privily kiss his neck.”  What? What was Mary thinking—by this time she had been back in Scotland long enough to know that what might pass without comment at the French Court would cause a stir at the Scottish Court.   But is it true? And if it is, does it mean anything than Mary was a bit foolish, a bit lonely?

Could Chastelard’s infatuation have cloaked more sinister intentions?  There is some suggestion that Chastelard was a spy for the English–in particular for Sir Francis Walsingham and Sir William Cecil–but history is inconclusive.  What we do know is that he left Scotland for some time between September 1561 and returned in the autumn of 1562 having traveled through London making noise about returning to his lady-love in Scotland.  He could have picked up an assignment.  Weir reports that after Chastelard’s death William Maitland, Mary’s Secretary of State, told the Spanish Ambassador De Quadra that Chastelard confessed to being sent by Huguenots in France to ruin Mary’s reputation and foil her marriage plans with the Spanish heir, Don Carlos.

On his return to Scotland, Mary was glad to see him.  She gave him the gift of a horse that her brother had given her (re-gifting…), and some money to buy new clothes and danced with him during New Year’s celebrations.  Still, none of these actions was out of keeping with her behavior to other favorites.

Rossend Castle, shades of former glory. Here in February 1563 Mary, Queen of Scots found Chastelard hiding under her bed.

Rossend Castle, shades of former glory. Here in February 1563 Mary, Queen of Scots found Chastelard hiding under her bed.

If he was just an obsessed, love-sick swain, he was also unlucky.  On his return, he displayed the poor judgment, or luck, to get caught in Mary’s bedchamber not once, but twice.  The first time, he hid under Mary’s bed at Holyrood Palace but discovered during a routine security search.  Mary banished him from Scotland.   Two days later in a move of epic stupidity, he followed Mary to Fife surprised her at Rossend Castle in Burntisland (which I visited last year) and caught her in the middle of disrobing. Chastelard had a dagger and/or sword with him.  Her shouts brought her brother, James Stewart, Earl of Moray to her aid.  Mary was so rattled that her chief lady-in-waiting, Mary Fleming, slept at the foot of her bed thereafter.

Whatever Mary’s true feelings for Pierre, she did not have much choice but to hang him for the attempted assassination after refusing several pleas for a pardon. At worst, he threatened Queen Mary’s life; at best, he threatened her good name either through his stupidity or on purpose as a spy.  After a week in the dungeons at St. Andrews, Pierre was hanged at the Mercat Cross in St. Andrews on February 20, 1563.  Chastelard made a dramatic exit, reciting Ronsard’s poem “Hymn of Death” and reportedly saying “”Adieu, most lovely and cruel of princesses!” This cannot have helped Mary’s reputation with the Reformists like John Knox.

Algernon Charles Swinburne, a 19th century intellectual and author, wrote Chastelard: A Tragedy  about his relationship with Mary Stuart and one of her ladies-in-waiting, Mary Beaton.  In the story, the three are caught in a tragic triangle that ends with his execution.  I do not believe there is any historical accuracy behind the concept of the love triangle, but it is a compelling idea.

Chastelard’s relationship with Mary intrigues me.  Was he obsessed but unrequited in love?  Or was he an infatuation of Mary’s, the inappropriate predecessor to the inappropriate Darnley and Bothwell?  As a writer, the what-if’s in this story fascinate me.  I wonder what the CW’s Reign will make of this?  (I know what I’m doing with this plot line!)

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John Kelly’s factual account of Ireland’s Great Famine tears at your heart

The Graves are Walking by John Kelly

The Graves are Walking by John Kelly

This review was originally published by the Historical Novel Society in the Historical Novel Review, February 2013.  

John Kelly’s account of the Irish potato famine is a thoroughly researched and smoothly written story of the events that led to the famine and efforts to bring relief. In The Graves are Walking: The Great Famine and the Saga of the Irish People he covers it all: from the disease that caused the European-wide potato failure to the policies and philosophies of the British to the Anglo-Irish landowners, and cultural prejudices about the Irish. Kelly places the blame on the British but shows in detail how the thinkers of the day believed in a moral and social philosophy that was at odds with giving the Irish the help that was required.

This is a factual account of a tragedy that tore at my heartstrings, because it is contains accounts of people and places that make up my family tree. My heart broke as I read the stories of eviction, mass graves, and epic stupidity in policy-making and famine relief. I understand now why my ancestors left Mayo and Down for the difficult life of coal mining in Scotland, and why my Donegal ancestors fared a little better living in a remote area by the sea. They harvested, along with fish and seaweed, a deep distrust of the British. Indeed, it is hard to read this book without feeling anger and frustration at the British policies and the cruelty of land owning gentry, which led to genocide.

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