A Tale of Two Palaces by Amanda Carmack
One of the best perks of writing historical mysteries is
the research! I am a library junkie, and
love spending time digging through dusty old books in search of just the right
historical detail. (Of course, this also
means sometimes it's hard for me to stop researching and actually, y'know, use
the research in writing!).
Travel is
also a fun way to immerse myself in a period, to imagine how my characters
might have actually lived in Elizabethan times.
Murder at Fontainebleau uses a sense of place even more than
other stories I've written. We glimpse
two palaces in the story, one the is long demolished and one that still exists
to be toured, and they were a perfect example of the differences between
English and French life in the 16th century, which Kate Haywood
discovers for herself when she's sent to Fontainebleau on a mission for Queen
Elizabeth....
The English palace, Greenwich, was originally built in
1433 by Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, a brother of Henry V. It was a convenient
spot for a castle, 5 miles from London and Thames-side, and was popular with
subsequent rulers, especially Henry VIII. His father, Henry VII, remodeled the
place extensively between 1498-1504 (after dispatching the previous occupant,
Dowager Queen Elizabeth, to a convent). The new design was after the trendy
“Burgundian” model, with the facade refaced in red Burgundian brick. Though the
royal apartments were still in the “donjon” style (i.e. stacked rooms atop
rooms), there were no moats or fortifications. It was built around 3
courtyards, with the royal apartments overlooking the river and many fabulous
gardens and mazes, fountains and lawns.
At the east side of the palace lay the chapel; to the
west the privy kitchen. Next door was the church of he Observant Friars of St.
Francis, built in 1482 and connected to the palace by a gallery. This was the
favorite church of Katherine of Aragon, who wanted one day to be buried there
(of course, that didn’t turn out quite as she planned…)
Though there are paintings and drawings of the exterior,
not much is known of the interior decorations. The Great Hall was said to have
roof timbers painted with yellow ochre, and the floors were wood, usually oak
(some painted to look like marble). The ceilings were flat, with moulded
fretwork and lavish gilding, embellished with badges and heraldic devices
(often Katherine’s pomegranates and Henry’s roses). The furniture was probably
typical of the era, carved dark wood chairs (often an X-frame design) and
tables, benches and trunks. Wool or velvet rugs were on the floors of the royal
apartments only, but they could also be found on tables, cupboards, and walls.
Elaborate tiered buffets showed off gold and silver plate, and treasures like
an gold salt cellar engraved with the initials “K and H” and enameled with red
roses.
It was a royal residence through the reign of Charles I
(1625-49), but under the Commonwealth the state apartments were made into
stables, and the palace decayed. In 1662, Charles II demolished most of the
remains and built a new palace on the site (this later became the Royal Naval
College), and landscaped Greenwich Park. The Tudor Great Hall survived until
1866, and the chapel (used for storage) until the late 19th century. Apart from
the undercroft (built by James I in 1606) and one of Henry VIII’s reservoir
buildings of 1515, nothing of the original survives.
Fontainebleau, on the other hand, can be seen in much
the state Francois I left it in. On February 24, 1525 there was the battle of
Pavia, the worst French defeat since Agincourt. Many nobles were dead, and king
was the prisoner of the Holy Roman Emperor in Madrid. He was released in May,
but only at the price of exchanging his sons (Dauphin Francois and Henri, duc
d’Orleans) for his own freedom. In May 1526, Francois created the League of
Cognac with Venice, Florence, the Papacy, the Sforzas of Milan, and Henry VIII
to “ensure the security of Christendom and the establishment of a true and
lasting peace.” (Ha!!) This led to the visit of the delegation in 1527, seeking
a treaty of alliance with England and the betrothal of Princess Mary and the
duc d’Orleans.
After his return from Madrid, Francois was not idle.
Aside from plotting alliances, he started decorating. Having finished Chambord,
he turned to Fontainebleau, which he loved for its 17,000 hectares of fine
hunting land. All that remained of the original 12th century castle was a
single tower. Francois built new ballrooms, galleries, and a chapel, and called
in Italian artists like Fiorentino, Primaticcio, and Vignola to decorate them
in lavish style (some of their work can still be seen in the frescoes of the
Gallery of Francois I and the bedchamber of the king’s mistress the duchesse
d’Etampes). The marble halls were filled with artworks, gold and silver
ornaments, and fine tapestries. Unlike Greenwich, this palace was high and
light, filled with sunlight that sparkled on the giltwork.
I know it’s hard to comment on a research-type post, but
I’m curious–after reading about both palaces, which would you prefer to live
in? (I’m torn, but I lean toward Fontainebleau, just because I was so awestruck
when I visited!). Where would you like to see a book set?
For more behind-the-scenes history tidbits, and info on
the Kate Haywood Elizabethan Mysteries, please visit me at http://amandacarmack.com
In
the latest Elizabethan mystery by the author of Murder at Whitehall, amateur sleuth Kate Haywood investigates
deadly machinations unfolding behind the scenes in the magnificent French
court.
1561. Queen Elizabeth’s throne is threatened as Mary Queen of Scots—pushed in every direction by opposing and powerful forces—declares herself the rightful Queen of England. To discover her rival’s next unpredictable move, Elizabeth dispatches a party of trustworthy intimates to Mary’s court at Fontainebleau. Chief among them is Kate Haywood, who finds that the glittering balls and genial banquets conceal a web of poisonous ambition that soon turns deadly.
1561. Queen Elizabeth’s throne is threatened as Mary Queen of Scots—pushed in every direction by opposing and powerful forces—declares herself the rightful Queen of England. To discover her rival’s next unpredictable move, Elizabeth dispatches a party of trustworthy intimates to Mary’s court at Fontainebleau. Chief among them is Kate Haywood, who finds that the glittering balls and genial banquets conceal a web of poisonous ambition that soon turns deadly.
When a beautiful and disruptively flirtatious member of the visiting party is murdered, Kate suspects that the man who stands accused has been set up to discredit Elizabeth. She vows to find the real killer, but the French court is a labyrinth unlike any she has ever navigated before—and at every turn there are more traps set to spring.
Amanda Carmack has
been in love with the Tudors ever since an accidental viewing of "Anne of
the Thousand Days" on TV as a kid! Now she just wishes she could
live with them all the time--but there has to be time for writing about them
too.
She also writes
as Amanda McCabe and Laurel
McKee, and her books have been
nominated for many awards, including the RITA Award, the Romantic Times
BOOKReviews Reviewers' Choice Award, the Booksellers Best, the National Readers
Choice Award, and the Holt Medallion. She lives in Oklahoma with a menagerie of
two cats, a Pug, and a very bossy miniature Poodle, along with far too many
books.
When not writing or
reading, she loves taking dance classes, yoga, collecting cheesy travel
souvenirs, and watching the Food Network--even though she doesn't cook.
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