Newbury castle ruins (built by John Marshall), photo by Matthew Prior‘The Lord of His Castle’: A Poem by Brian Yapko The Society July 7, 2024 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 38 Comments . The Lord of His Castle Setting: King Stephen’s siege of Newbury Castle, England during the English civil war known as “The Anarchy.” The year is 1152 A.D. Strategic though this castle is to me I would we had avoided Newbury Where I have been outwitted and outmanned. John Marshall! Damn him! Who is he to vie With me, to feign surrender then defy My will!? I’m England! Sovereign of this land! How dare this lord give fealty and laud To her, my foe and bane, the “empress” Maude? My soldiers first commenced this minor siege With calls that Marshall honor me, his liege, And let his castle serve us in this shire. He had poor means to fight, no strong defenses, No tactics that could thwart our fierce offenses. Thus when he grasped our strength in sword and fire And all the tools of warcraft we would wield, John Marshall shouted, “Newbury shall yield!” His quick capitulation pleased me well For had he fought I would have unleashed hell. He only begged one favor he might ask: He needed time to settle his affairs Amongst himself, his vassals and his heirs. I gave him one full day to fix this task On strict condition that to prove I’d won, I hold as hostage, William, his young son. But Marshall lied to me! With false remorse He used the day I gave to reinforce Defenses in his Keep and send out spies To Maude to tell her of my battle plan. How could I miss the treason in this man, To see his strongest weapons were his lies?! I’d fallen captive to the web he’d spun… But wait! I still held hostage his young son! I ordered Marshall cede within the hour Or I would demonstrate my ruthless power. (My regal rage exceeded this man’s gall!) I marched his son by sword beneath the gate And said by twilight death was William’s fate; I’d then propel his corpse over the wall! I thought this threat would cause the father dread, For who can bear the sight of offspring dead? But Marshall then appeared upon the wall Joined by his wife—of gentle birth and tall. “The hammer and the anvil are both here,” He yelled, steel in his eyes, “to bear more sons! They’ll bear my name and may be better ones.” (His voice conveyed no twinge of grief or fear.) “This English realm means all. Life is but dust. And so, King Stephen, kill him if you must!” My jaw dropped! I saw Marshall spoke the truth: For England’s sake he’d sacrifice this youth, Misguided though such fealty might be! As thoughts of noble wars and Norman laws Swept through my conscience, I announced a pause ‘Ere we resumed the siege of Newbury. This lad, this William… What should be his doom? I could not send this youngling to his tomb. I told my squire “Bind his hands and feet. Let Marshall see his captive son’s retreat. Then march him back to camp behind your horse. This day we will not send him to his grave. I would not thus repay a lord so brave As Marshall is in staunchness if not force. To London. You shall see to William’s needs. And please attend my horse. His left leg bleeds.” My squire balked. “Your majesty, why spare This spawn of such a traitor—one who’d dare To crown that wretched harlot, Maude, as queen!?” I answered him. My words were hard and short: “I shall have Marshall’s son raised in my Court! If he has half his father’s nerve, I ween, For England’s sake this lad must not be killed — We’ll see in him brave destiny fulfilled!” . Poet’s Note John Marshall, a minor English nobleman, supported King Stephen when he took the throne in 1135, but in 1139 changed allegiance to Stephen’s rival, the Empress Maude in the civil war of succession. This civil war led England to collapse into the Anarchy and was only resolved with the negotiated accession of Maude’s son, Henry II in 1153. John Marshall’s son, William, only six at the time of the siege of Newbury, survived, went to Court, learned chivalry and was eventually hailed as “the best knight that ever lived”—the First Earl of Pembroke. He served four kings—Henry II, Richard the Lionheart, John, and Henry III and, as Henry III’s regent, became one of the most powerful men in Europe. Through his daughter Isabel, William is ancestor to both the Bruce and Stuart kings of the Scots. Through his granddaughter Maud de Braose, William is an ancestor to the last Plantagenet kings, Edward IV through to Richard III, and all English monarchs from Henry VIII to the present. . . Brian Yapko is a retired lawyer whose poetry has appeared in over fifty journals. He is the winner of the 2023 SCP International Poetry Competition. Brian is also the author of several short stories, the science fiction novel El Nuevo Mundo and the gothic archaeological novel Bleeding Stone. He lives in Wimauma, Florida. NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary. Trending now: 38 Responses Roy Eugene Peterson July 7, 2024 Fascinating story that must have been extremely well researched and is certainly well-written. So much is said in exquisite detail about the will of two men in pitched battle, the decisions they made, and their character. John Sale will now crown you poet laureate of Great Britain. Reply Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Thank you so much, Roy! The battle of wills was a fascinating one to me. King Stephen eventually took Newbury Castle, but who was really the victor here? And thanks for the poet laureate comment. It ain’t going to happen but what a generous thought! English history is an inexhaustible source of fascinating and noble stories. Reply Joseph S. Salemi July 7, 2024 What a great historical piece this is. I’ve waited in eager anticipation for Brian to finish it, and it does not disappoint. Making it a dramatic monologue in the voice of King Stephen was a smart choice, for it allows the entire story to be told from two points of view — John Marshall’s courage is clearly presented, but we also see the anger of the king, his readiness to kill the boy, and his second thoughts after witnessing Marshall’s tough-mindedness. Why kill a boy who springs from this kind of hard-bitten masculinity? Better to raise him as a future knight! Note also that there are two interlocutors with the speaker: John Marshall, and later on the squire. The words of both these men are reported verbatim by the king. In some dramatic monologues the interlocutors are silent, and we as readers must intuit what they say to the speaker. But here a touch of dialogue is added, since the interlocutors are quoted directly. Choosing the Norman “Maude” for the rival queen’s name, instead of the German “Matilda,” was inevitable for metrical reasons. This is also why Yapko uses the modern “Marshall” instead of the Norman “Mareschal.” The stern, pithy reply of Marshall to Stephen’s demand for surrender rings down the centuries (“I have hammer and anvil here to make more sons!”) Note that Marshall even uses a metaphor to say it! The image of a husband and wife in the act of intercourse is presented as the work of a blacksmith at the forge, making weapons. This is one of those incidents that carries you right back to medieval Europe. Marshall’s hard, concise, no-nonsense expression, in my memory is paralleled in the famous epitaph of the Spartan 300 at Thermopylae (…we lie here, obedient to orders.”) Or in King Leonidas’ reply at the start of that battle to the Persian emperor’s call for the Spartans surrender their weapons. Leonidas just said “Molon labe” – “Come and take them”. Or in General Anthony McAuliffe’s answer to the German demand for our surrender at Bastogne in 1944: NUTS! Today, stupid people call this “toxic masculinity.” In fact it is the unyielding toughness that keeps a nation alive and viable. Thank God the Israelis still have it. Reply Julian D. Woodruff July 7, 2024 It is quite a poem, I agree, Joseph–what could be better than 2 bold figures at loggerheads? As to your comment on toxic masculinity, I concur there too, though Israel is definitely making me swallow,m hard. The narrative and your response put me in mind of Peter Sellers’s line in The Pink Panther, when Inspector Clouseau squashes the violin: “When you’ve seen one Stradivarius, you’ve seen them all.” Reply Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Thank you for reading and commenting, Julian. I was also very drawn to this story of two bold figures in something of a psychological duel. And thanksfully no strads were damaged in the making of tihs poem! Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Joe, thank you very much indeed for this detailed and insightful comment on my poem. Even more, thank you for inspiring this poem — you were the one to introduce me to this quintessentially Medieval story of unyielding and incontrovertible manhood. The story you related clearly inspired me! You are quite accurate in your description of the poem’s particulars, both linguistically and in terms of quoted dialogue. I’ve known the name “Matilda” of course, but my bias to “Maude” derives from the fact that simply scans better and rhymes more easily. Poetry-writing is necessarily full of such compromises. But for me, not a compromise! My familiarity with The Anarchy was first piqued by the television program “Cadfael’ — a detective series set in Medieval times with a scientifically-minded monk as the titular protagonist. In “Cadfael” she was always “Maude.” And this makes some sense since William Marshall’s granddaughter ends up named “Maud” as well. Your views on “toxic masculinity” are spot-on. As I said in my recent “Battle Hymn” the left seems intent on leaving our nation “ruined and unmanned.” I did not mean “abandoned.” I meant the necessary virtues of masculinity have been drained out of our culture much to its detriment. I look at photographs of the men and women who fought World War II and cannot shake the feeling that those heroes who saved civilization are laughing at us — and deeply disappointed. Reply Julian D. Woodruff July 8, 2024 Laughing at us, as you say, Brian; or else, like the proverbial drill sergeant, cornering us outside the mess hall and asking us in words sharper than I can summon, “We gave our all for freedom and for you–you’d shun that gift, you little pile of poo?” BTW, a notable contrast to Marshall’s retort is David’s grief at the death of Absalom: do you know Schuetz’s “Fili mi Absalom”? Brian A. Yapko July 12, 2024 Thanks for this additional comment, Julian. You really know your musical history!! No, I’d never heard of Schuetz let alone his “Fili Mi Absalom” which I believe translates to “My son, my Absalom.” But I will give it a listen. You’re quite right. There’s nothing more gut-wrenching in the Old Testament than King David being told of his rebellious but deeply beloved son’s death. Yes, quite a contrast with John Marshall! Brian A. Yapko July 9, 2024 Joe, two other things to add to my reply to this detailed comment. I used the modern “Marshall” rather than the Norman “Mareschal” for exactly the reasons you mention. But I should also mention my struggle between “Marshall” and “Marshal.” I used the modern spelling because I found use of the single “L” in the name ambiguous metrically — or at least I thought readers would be tempted to pronounce it with a French accent — Mar-SHAL. I found myself doing this over and over in the course of the composition. This, of course, would have drastically affected the meter. I found justification in my modern usage in the fact that although 80% of the literature uses single-L Marshal, a good number of works use the double-L that I went with. The adjoining village is “Hampstead Marshall” and many sources either prefer the LL or list the L and the LL interchangeably. (See, for example, http://www.newburyhistory.co.uk/newbury-castle). That being said, I still feel quite ambivalent about the decision and if there is a consensus that a single “L” is preferable to the double “L” , I have no objection to making the change. Just so you are clear that I didn’t make this decision capriciously. And lastly, an appreciation for your mention of the unyielding toughness of the Israeli army. They not only have two violent and dangerous foes to contend with while their every move is placed under a spotlight and microscope unknown to any other army on this Earth — they also have to fight against a deeply biased world opinion of those appalled and resentful that Israel refuses to commit suicide. Reply Joseph S. Salemi July 9, 2024 I don’t think there is a hard and fast rule about “marshal” vs. “marshall.” Most big dictionaries allow for either spelling, with the notation that the double ll form is usually the British style. What should be noted is that the word is not from Latin “martialis” but from a Frankish-Germanic word meaning “cavalry officer” or “horse servant.” It later came to mean a high-ranking official. jd July 7, 2024 Very interesting and well done, Brian. Thank you. Reply Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Thank you so much, jd! I appreciate your reading and commenting! Reply Julia B Griffin July 7, 2024 Terrific – what a story, and so skilfully done! Reply Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Thank you very much indeed, Julia! Reply Jeff Eardley July 7, 2024 Brian, for someone who has declared to have not a drop of English blood, you have just sent this Englishman to Wikepedia…again. Back in 1996, we had the third battle of Newbury when protesters against the new by-pass, pushed the budget up from 7 million pounds to around 42 million. The road was built regardless and is a delight to drive. It passes historic Highcleere castle, the home of the popular “Downton Abbey” TV series that you may have encounteted. Thanks for a great history lesson. I concur with Mr. Sale in your qualification for US poet laureate. It just has to happen. Reply Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 An English heart, Jeff, but not a drop of English blood! I’m always pleased to pique a reader’s interest in something enough to make him want to do some additional research so that means I’ve done something right. Thank you for the generous comment, Jeff — especially for the laureate mention. And for your update on Newbury. It’s hard to picture this locale under the influence of the 21st Century! Reply Yael July 7, 2024 This sure rivets my attention. It has suspense, adventure, psychology, and good story telling, all on a historical foundation. The length is just right too; long enough to include plenty of details and images to capture the imagination, but not so lengthy as to stress the attention span and cause details at the start to be forgotten before the closing stanza. This should be in a history book, great job! Reply Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Thank you so much, Yael! I try to keep it moving but always worry in my longer poems about whether the character or plot can sustain a reader’s interest. This once came close to stretching it to the snapping point so I’m glad that it didn’t quite get there and worked for you. I love writing poetry based on history and am especially grateful for your history book endorsement! Reply Sally Cook July 8, 2024 Dear Brian – I have a Plantagenet heritage of which I am very proud. Once I worked it out I joined Dames of the Magna Charta; took a lifetime membership’ never wanted to lose that connection. Genealogy has always been one of my strongest interests and so I read your excellent poem with great interests. Reply Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Sally, thank you so much for reading and commenting! I’m so fascinated by your family background — you should be very proud to have Plantaganet ancestry — that means you’re related to the royal family! Henry II, the first Plantaganet, has fascinated me ever since I saw him portrayed by Peter O’Toole in The Lion in Winter with Katharine Hepburn as Eleanor of Aquitaine. But there are plenty of other fascinating members of that Royal House! Who doesn’t love Richard the Lionheart? Reply Sally Cook July 14, 2024 Brian Don.t know why I didn’t continue with this conversation before except to sat that I must have become distracted by the usual insanities of life. What I meant to say was this: You mention my connection to the Royal family. Yes, it exists; I am a 32nd generation descendant from Edward I and Margaret of France and can prove it. This comes through a woman known as “the mother of governors” as so many early governors were descended from her. While writing this I’ve been frantically searching for the actual names and places but it is eluding me. Point being the current bunch are of German descent and not Plantagenet. Well, the world is shouting out its commands once more, but should you be interested, just ask Evan to connect us on the internet and I will look it up at a better time. Brian A. Yapko July 15, 2024 Sally, what an amazing lineage you have! Edward I (Longshanks)! I would love to hear more. I will contact Evan and ask him for your email so I can write to you directly. Daniel Kemper July 8, 2024 I got caught up in the story, then at the end when I met the historical notes, I had a flash– O WOW! This is real. This really happened. Very transporting, very engaging. I can feel how this sort of form fits you. Reply Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Daniel, thank you so much for this generous and evocative comment! I feel the same way you do when presented with a period piece — the enjoyment is greatly increased when I have that moment of revelation which you describe: “Wow, this is real!” Yes, history really happened. Museums also help bring this point home and it’s a special pleasure to examine the artifacts that document historical events. That history is real matters so much now in an age when ideologues will gladly rewrite it to suit their agendas. Reply Margaret Coats July 8, 2024 Brian, first let me acknowledge your deftness with the tools of English craft you wield. The wording and flow are splendid, as befits the heroic story you tell. I am appalled only by the wicked words you allow the villain Stephen and his squire about their liege lady Maude. She has her own regal heroism, exercised in ways that are something beyond the feminine, though without neglecting what is suitable to her. I would suggest that since you have put “empress” in quotation marks showing Stephen’s scorn for Maude, you should even more fittingly put “king” in quotes when spoken by John Marshall. This entire story demonstrates that Marshall did not accept Stephen as king; why would he address him outright as such? I have long been an avid reader of English history, and at 13 I encountered William the Marshal in the classic work of historian George Saintsbury. You’ll understand his flavor from the motto he professed to maintain honesty, “Historians may lie, but history cannot.” He gives full credit to William for the part he played, but in a fat one-volume history of England, had no space for this story relayed to you by Joseph Salemi. I’m glad to see the word “strategic.” Newbury was close to the border of the west country controlled by Maude and her supporters. John Marshall’s castle was greater than it might seem in several ways, and his resistance to Stephen was significant. You must give reasons for his stand so firm as to override feeling for a son’s life, and considering all we read here, there is more than one. What matters to Stephen is Marshall’s feudal loyalty to Maude. What matters to Marshall seems to be a combination of (1) feudal loyalty, (2) defending the castle he has constructed and takes pride in, (3) maintaining the honor of the family he is establishing, (4) maintaining his position as lord of the surrounding territory [something of high import to his vassals during the Anarchy], and (5) patriotism in a more modern sense, because you, Brian, seem to have him express all of this in “England.” Of course that word defies Stephen, who said earlier, “I’m England.” Do you think Marshall’s “England” includes the patrilineal right of Maude to the crown, superseding the judgment of the council that chose Stephen instead? That concept of right might be a rejection of Anglo-Saxon ways in favor of Anglo-Norman. And wouldn’t Marshall have said “England” in French? That was usual speech for upper classes for almost three centuries after the 1066 Conquest. Therefore I imagine that the key statement of the poem (hammer and anvil) would have been pronounced “marteau et enclume,” which adds “martial” to the image of Marshall. “Enclume” (from Latin “incus”) gives a bit clearer picture of the castle’s noble lady as willing to undergo more “in-striking” or “impelling” or “incussion” so as to shape more sons. Please excuse me if I seem to suggest writing in Norman French! I’m quite sincere about the praise of your English. And I have one more word usage to admire in the poem. When you, Brian, use “lied” and “lies” here, you correct an unhappy current tendency to use the word imprecisely to mean “everything said by those who disagree with me.” Stephen says Marshall “lied,” but the reader knows exactly what lie was told: Marshall said, in tactical deceit, that he would surrender his castle. But when Stephen goes on to say that Marshall’s strongest weapons are his lies, the reader can see this is false. Stephen is the liar because, as he admits after the outburst, the greatest weapon of Marshall is his steadfast determination to maintain his honor and position. Stephen makes the lying outburst to disgrace Marshall by calling him a liar to his face, (deliberately insulting his honor), but Marshall faces Stephen down. His is the noble defiance of a man of honor. It goes on to characterize the son who serves future kings. Very much enjoyed your putting this rare tale in verse. Reply Joseph S. Salemi July 8, 2024 I don’t know whether the story of John Marshall’s reply to King Stephen’s threat is real or apocryphal, nor can I account for why Saintsbury ignored it. Does it matter in a work of fictive mimesis? As the reporter Mike Wallace used to say, “Why spoil a good story with the facts?” But since you bring up factual matters, let’s agree that John Marshall was just as much of a side-switching, opportunistic, grab-the-main-chance operator as the sleazy Matilda/Maude. The history of those troubled years is a mind-boggling labyrinth of broken oaths, treachery, backstabbing, and ambition-driven power-plays. “Feudal loyalty” in a high-stakes game for the control of kingdoms or rich provinces was about as meaningless as Joe Biden’s speeches. Every interested party was “lying” through his (or her) teeth. Remember that John Marshall’s “noble defiance of a man of honor” came from someone who broke his oath of fealty to King Stephen. It’s a little late in the day to champion the cause of Matilda-Maude, whether out of nostalgic feminism, or on the assumption that twelfth-century speakers of Norman French understood the Latin derivation of “enclume” and its graphic possibilities as a metaphor for intercourse. And royalty and high nobility were commonly referred to by the name of the territory they ruled (in Macbeth, the thanes of Glamis and Cawdor are referred to as “Glamis” and “Cawdor,” just as the Duke of Clarence is called “Clarence” in Richard III). So a king of England could be called “England,” even though every speaker of the language would have known that the word also referred to a particular chunk of land. Reply Brian A. Yapko July 9, 2024 Thank you for these additional thoughts, Joe, directed to Margareat’s comment. I concur with all of your points and have, to some degree, incorporated them in my own comment to Margaret. Given the multitude of sources concerning the story regarding John Marshall’s muscular reply to King Stephen, it is indeed odd to not have it included in a major biography. As I mentioned to Margaret, you are exactly right about my usage “I’m England.” It is Shakespearian and derived from a number of sources, most directly Henry V when the Kings of England and France greet each other with their nation names rather than regnal names. As for lies and deception in politics (so modern…) My image of Medieval politics is that it was very much riven with betrayals, broken oaths and surprise attacks. This happened between feudal lords as well as within royal families. Perhaps especially within royal families. My first real exposure to the unscrupulous nature of Medieval politics was “The Lion in Winter” — the 1968 film (written by William Goldman) with Peter O’Toole as Henry II Katharine Hepburn as Eleanor of Aquitaine. Eleanor is routinely kept imprisoned after leading multiple rebellions against her husband, sons Richard (a very young Anthony Hopkins), Geoffrey and John all betray each other in order to try to take the throne, and all while everyone in the family tries to manipulate King Philip of France. Sex and bloodshed are used in equal measures as weapons of statecraft. It’s disturbing, of course, but realistic and wildly entertaining. Brian A. Yapko July 9, 2024 Margaret, thank you so much for this detailed and appreciative comment. I tried to give the piece a little bit of an archaic feel and so am grateful for your assessment of deftness with English. I regret the harsh words spoken about the Empress Maude/Matilda by King Stephen and his squire. However, this is a dramatic monologue in Stephen’s voice and I can’t imagine this Medieval king and his squire having anything nice to say about the political and military adversary who has caused him so much grief. I don’t think I use language here that would make Chaucer blush, so I’m inferring that your unhappiness is with the treatment of Maude herself less than the language marking their disdain. I do not share their disdain and this may mollify you a bit: When it comes to the Anarchy, I happen to be Team Maude and I acknowledge and unqualifiedly applaud her regal heroism. Ever since I first learned of the Anarchy through Cadfael and then started to dig deeper into it, I’ve been quite indignant that Maude was deemed unworthy to serve as sovereign simply because she was a woman. Strong women in English history had not yet quite made a name for themselves, even though Maude’s own daughter-in-law would be the intimidating and much-accomplished Eleanor of Aquitaine and we’re centuries before Mary I or Elizabeth I. Stephen has always struck me as a usurper and even something of a nonentity who presumed too much. Maude had the better genealogical claim as daughter of Henry I. And Henry I was very careful in collecting oaths of fealty to his daughter. When reading the history, I’m much relieved when Maude’s son at least gets to ascend to the throne as Henry II. It’s not what she deserved, but it’s a vindication. I did indeed consider the possibility of putting “King” in quotes to parallel “Empress.” The only thing that stopped me was that this is Stephen himself describing a conversation in which he was referred to as “King”. I don’t think Stephen would knowingly diminish himself by seeing the title “king” offered by Marshall as anything but authentic, even if we as a reader might understand it differently. If someone sneeringly referred to me in conversation as “poet Yapko” and then I relayed that conversation to a third party, I probably would not put the sarcasm of “poet” in quotes. If this were Maude’s poem, or even John Marshall’s, I would see it differently. But when speaking in Stephen’s voice, my characterization of him is such that he will take “king” on face value because that’s what he thinks he is owed. Interesting about your Marshall book because Dr. Salemi mentioned the incident to me very much in passing on a quite unrelated subject and without mentioning who the Medieval personages involved were. So later I googled “Medieval siege — son threatened — hammer and anvil to make new sons” and this brought me immediately to Sir William Marshal in World Encyclopedia. That, any some other sites, then got me to John Marshal, the Newbury location and the role of the siege during the Anarchy. Who can say if the story is absolutely true, but it is mentioned in many Encyclopedias and other histories. If it’s not true, it has acquired the venerable status of heroic myth. You’ve well-described the many complex motivations that John Marshall must have possessed in his defense of Newbury even to the point of the death of his son and the potential loss of his status and fortune. The two “England” references you mention are very apt and Dr. Salemi offers the precise explanation for Stephen’s statement “I am England.” I took that from Shakespeare who did that repeatedly with royals – they become the personification of the realm. More specifically, I’m thinking of the meeting between Henry V and the French King in Henry V when they call each other England and France, respectively. Marshall says “this English realm is all…” he divorces the commingled identity of sovereign and country, a reminder – perhaps even a rebuke – that all people die, even kings and queens, but that it is the country itself that matters.” I don’t feel like I have the academic chops to answer your points about Norman French versus Latin versus proto-Middle English here. You make some fascinating linguistic points which would make for an interesting essay. What I do recall is that Edward III is the first English monarch to actually have English as a first language and that’s not until the mid-14th Century, so of course Stephen and Maude and Marshall all would have referred to “Angleterre” rather than “England.” But, fortunately, this is above my paygrade as I’m writing in modern English. On the subject of lies… Interestingly, I don’t consider Stephen a liar in his situation so much as a man who is sincerely surprised by the twist of events and is trying to come up with a solution which is honorable, which does not damage his own dignity, which does not bow to this minor lord who bested him, but which also benefits England in the end. I think he fully intended to kill the boy until he was shocked into a change of heart. One of the things I most value in dramatic monologues is the twist in perspective and decision-making which I want the reader to experience in real time. That is what I intended here. As Stephen sees with better eyes, so do we. Thank you so much, Margaret, for so many rich observations. I feel like I could keep writing more but must move on. In the meantime, you’ve given me much to contemplate. Reply Margaret Coats July 10, 2024 Brian, thanks for taking my comments seriously. I’m most happy to know that, looking at history, you are a partisan of Maude. My remarks about her should be taken in the same vein as those of Jane Austen, “a partial, prejudiced and ignorant Historian” passionately siding with Mary Queen of Scots in her brief “History of England.” Interesting that Mary’s story is much like that of Maude, losing the war but winning the future when her execrable rival had to accept Mary’s son as successor, with the result that British royalty long since descends from Maude and Mary, not from their enemies. By the way, Empress Maude’s mother, consort of Henry I, is known to English history as “Good Queen Maude.” For both of them, “Matilda” was the Latin name of official record. I should make it clear that my question about “England” in your poem had nothing to do with the title as wrongly claimed by Stephen. I spoke of the usage you put in the mouth of John Marshall, “This English realm means all,” with the apparent appeal to patriotism in a modern sense. Stephen’s claim “I’m England” is quite easy to understand, and there was no reason to spend effort on explaining it. The use of a title as personal name is well known in history, very frequently used by Shakespeare as you note, and is current today in the United Kingdom–not so much for the king as for various nobles. Indeed you use it in that manner right here. “Newbury shall yield” refers to John Marshall himself as much as to his castle. I am still interested in your interpretation of his “This English realm means all.” This places the kingdom of England above everything else important to John Marshall, or perhaps allows England to include everything important to him. That’s why I spent time on enumerating those values, without going into the full extent of spiritual and emotional things fervent patriots generally hold. Concerning the historicity of the incident and the phrase so significant in your poem, we have to look neither to Stephen nor John Marshall. As your endnote suggests, the poem is in fact about the six-year-old boy William. And again, I must clarify that I did not doubt the historicity of this small event. My reason for speaking of Saintsbury’s history and my coming to know of William the Marshal, was not to throw doubt on this poem which others have praised for its immediacy. I have read many, many volumes of English history, and never, ever heard of this particular Newbury Castle incident. As you admit, and as Joseph Salemi was the first to say, the event and the key phrase may be apocryphal–though they could be true history too insignificant to mention in overviews or even in accounts of the period. You were wise to do a online search and find the phrase and event well known. For myself, the historic greatness of William the Marshal is partly due to his fame cultivated by family and followers. In your searches, you undoubtedly ran across the Wikipedia article in English on the “Histoire de Guillaume le Mareschal.” This book is how we know much more about him than about almost anyone of his time period. It is in French, and probably contains the first written record of your poem’s story. The biography was written about 75 years after the event, and a few years after William’s death, by a poet historian working for William’s son (also named William). He was a careful researcher who had access to material documenting the Marshal’s career. He was also fond of colorful stories that enliven his account. These, including the Newbury castle story, may be based on traditional tales that could be true, or they may be invented by the biographer to exalt William into a personage of heroic myth. They are too far from the events to be records from eyewitnesses, yet close enough to convey what persons in the next generation said, heard and relayed. Because William was an extraordinary man who rose remarkably in the world, his biographer might well have favored stories that seemed to predict that. Such is the Newbury castle siege story. The medieval poet liked it, and it duly fascinates poets at present. Reply Brian A. Yapko July 12, 2024 Thank you, Margaret, for this additional comment clarifying your views and adding further insight to the poem and the history itself. Although it was my intent to put a spotlight on the interchange between Marshall and King Stephen, you are quite right to see the shift of focus to young William, who will end up being a very consequential figure. The poem ends with his welfare and the poet’s note which explains his significance. I will have to give more thought to the conflict between Elizabeth I and Mary, Queen of Scots. I’ve seen the films, of course, but that was many years ago. Perhaps more poetry will be inspired! In fact, I’m certain of it! I’m unduly amused by the idea of referring to nobility by their geographical association. It seems to be a custom now mercifully retired. I do recall Louis IVX saying “l’etat c’est moi” but that was a long time ago. I don’t fancy the idea of referring to Charles III as “England” or “Great Britain.” And the idea of referring to your present governor as “California” or the present occupant of the White House as “America” rubs me the wrong way. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant July 11, 2024 Brian, your poem had me hooked from the painful admission of defeat in the first three lines and held me in its linguistic magic until the triumphant and prophetic roar of the closing couplet. I have read with interest the comments on this piece of England’s history and have thoroughly enjoyed the lessons I’ve received… but for me, this beautiful poem is so much more than the facts. My favorites lines are these: “This lad, this William… What should be his doom? / I could not send this youngling to his tomb.” – to mention “this lad” as “this William” elevates the boy to a sovereign individual of worth, and that makes all the difference. It’s that sort of heartfelt attention to detail that elevates this poem to greater heights. In a time when men were as brave as lions, you speak of an act of the heart… a wise act of conscience that changed the course of history without the murderous act of a minor that would thrill the very devil. The fact that you have a gift for breathing life and very human traits into characters from history who are shunned and frowned upon today, brings a spiritual aspect to these historic events… something other in this self-centered, materialistic world that brings with it hope and meaning. Brian, thank you! Reply Brian A. Yapko July 12, 2024 Susan, I love this comment and am so grateful for your deeply observant eye which clearly sees everything I was aiming for. I’m glad to shine a spotlight on English history which is so full of stories of heroism and nobility. It saddens me to think that England has shifted so dramatically that it has almost lost continuity with that past. We shall see. In the meantime, wow! You zeroed in on that lad/William sentence so insightfully! You see the process of the boy’s humanization in Stephen’s head perfectly. It takes a strong person to change his mind and then act on it. I consider this a particularly valued character asset these days when so many people coast on ideology without ever giving things a second look or considering that they might be wrong. Thank you for the kind comments about the poetry itself and the subject of this particular poem, this “hard-bitten masculinity” that Dr. Salemi speaks of above. What this signifies for me is boundaries. Strong people have strong boundaries and they will not allow anything to breach them, even personal sacrifice or grief. We must draw lines or live in chaos. There’s a metaphor here, I think, with the defenses of a castle. Something to consider when we look at a world where defenses and barriers and borders are criticized. They shouldn’t be. They’re important. Reply Joshua C. Frank July 14, 2024 Wow… great historical poem, and great choice of subject! You have a gift for making history come alive. I have to wonder if Marshall was bluffing, knowing the speaker wouldn’t have the heart to go through with such a thing. (Sorry I’m a week late for this… busy week.) Reply Brian A. Yapko July 15, 2024 Josh, thank you so much for this kind comment. I’m always so fascinated by history and love sharing what little I know with readers. You raise an interesting question — one which we can never know. Was Marshall bluffing? In the brutal world of Medieval Europe, I rather doubt it. And I think Stephen would slaughter a “youngling” with little remorse — unless he saw some strategic reason not to. The very first word of this poem is “strategic” and that is, I believe, the key to Stephen’s character. I think Stephen saw strategic reasons to keep William alive He would indeed make a good and brave knight. Reply Frank Rable July 16, 2024 Most enjoyable! An interesting time when final decisions were made by kings instead of committees. You are a time traveling bard, sir, who has seen much. But you neglected the epilogue: And so King Stephen came back to threaten Marshall. “Mareschal, ye weel soon regret defying yer king. I will raise yer son as my own. Aye one day and soon, he will dance upon yer grave where all but yer head weel rest. Even now armies approach. Ye weel soon have no castle. You enjoy a bluff? Then let us begin the game. I see your castle. You raise me bowmen on yer wall. Weel I call, or drop ma weapons and run? Nay, I raise you my new French trebuchet. Ye want to see it. Will ye fold? Nay? So then, I weel raze YOUR CASTLE. Hammer and anvil indeed! [Fade out to Stephen’s maniacal laughter} A satisfaction in that, don’t you think? And a lesson: Never play poker with a king who can throw hundred pound rocks a quarter mile. Evan, my apologies. I was so inspired by Mr. Yapko’s creation that I wanted to become part of it with my bogus Monty Python accent. Brian, weel done! Reply Brian A. Yapko July 16, 2024 Frank, thank you so much for your fun comment. I appreciate the kind words, but even more I love the dialogue you’ve provided as an inspired epilogue! What a hoot! I’m glad that my work inspired you and I would love to see more! Reply Frank Rable July 16, 2024 We’ll see. But next time I should bring it through the front door. Brian, I just hope that a little of the remarkable talent I see here will rub off on me. I want to write! I never realized how much I would love it. I create a world. I control the horizontal. I control the vertical. I can change the focus from a soft blur to crystal clarity. I can (okay, that was from The Outer Limits). Years ago I built a model of the Clipper Ship Cutty Sark. What is a “cutty sark”? Why does the figurehead hold out a horse tail? I discovered “Tam O’Shanter” and Robert Burns with poetry and language like “The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle.” Never know how and when inspiration will seize you. I just try to be open to it now. Joseph S. Salemi July 17, 2024 In Lowland Scots dialect, a “cutty sark” means a short nightgown or shift. Since such a garment does not encumber the legs, it allows one to go forward quickly. Giving this name to the ship was to suggest that it was built for speed. Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Δ This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Roy Eugene Peterson July 7, 2024 Fascinating story that must have been extremely well researched and is certainly well-written. So much is said in exquisite detail about the will of two men in pitched battle, the decisions they made, and their character. John Sale will now crown you poet laureate of Great Britain. Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Thank you so much, Roy! The battle of wills was a fascinating one to me. King Stephen eventually took Newbury Castle, but who was really the victor here? And thanks for the poet laureate comment. It ain’t going to happen but what a generous thought! English history is an inexhaustible source of fascinating and noble stories. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi July 7, 2024 What a great historical piece this is. I’ve waited in eager anticipation for Brian to finish it, and it does not disappoint. Making it a dramatic monologue in the voice of King Stephen was a smart choice, for it allows the entire story to be told from two points of view — John Marshall’s courage is clearly presented, but we also see the anger of the king, his readiness to kill the boy, and his second thoughts after witnessing Marshall’s tough-mindedness. Why kill a boy who springs from this kind of hard-bitten masculinity? Better to raise him as a future knight! Note also that there are two interlocutors with the speaker: John Marshall, and later on the squire. The words of both these men are reported verbatim by the king. In some dramatic monologues the interlocutors are silent, and we as readers must intuit what they say to the speaker. But here a touch of dialogue is added, since the interlocutors are quoted directly. Choosing the Norman “Maude” for the rival queen’s name, instead of the German “Matilda,” was inevitable for metrical reasons. This is also why Yapko uses the modern “Marshall” instead of the Norman “Mareschal.” The stern, pithy reply of Marshall to Stephen’s demand for surrender rings down the centuries (“I have hammer and anvil here to make more sons!”) Note that Marshall even uses a metaphor to say it! The image of a husband and wife in the act of intercourse is presented as the work of a blacksmith at the forge, making weapons. This is one of those incidents that carries you right back to medieval Europe. Marshall’s hard, concise, no-nonsense expression, in my memory is paralleled in the famous epitaph of the Spartan 300 at Thermopylae (…we lie here, obedient to orders.”) Or in King Leonidas’ reply at the start of that battle to the Persian emperor’s call for the Spartans surrender their weapons. Leonidas just said “Molon labe” – “Come and take them”. Or in General Anthony McAuliffe’s answer to the German demand for our surrender at Bastogne in 1944: NUTS! Today, stupid people call this “toxic masculinity.” In fact it is the unyielding toughness that keeps a nation alive and viable. Thank God the Israelis still have it. Reply
Julian D. Woodruff July 7, 2024 It is quite a poem, I agree, Joseph–what could be better than 2 bold figures at loggerheads? As to your comment on toxic masculinity, I concur there too, though Israel is definitely making me swallow,m hard. The narrative and your response put me in mind of Peter Sellers’s line in The Pink Panther, when Inspector Clouseau squashes the violin: “When you’ve seen one Stradivarius, you’ve seen them all.” Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Thank you for reading and commenting, Julian. I was also very drawn to this story of two bold figures in something of a psychological duel. And thanksfully no strads were damaged in the making of tihs poem!
Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Joe, thank you very much indeed for this detailed and insightful comment on my poem. Even more, thank you for inspiring this poem — you were the one to introduce me to this quintessentially Medieval story of unyielding and incontrovertible manhood. The story you related clearly inspired me! You are quite accurate in your description of the poem’s particulars, both linguistically and in terms of quoted dialogue. I’ve known the name “Matilda” of course, but my bias to “Maude” derives from the fact that simply scans better and rhymes more easily. Poetry-writing is necessarily full of such compromises. But for me, not a compromise! My familiarity with The Anarchy was first piqued by the television program “Cadfael’ — a detective series set in Medieval times with a scientifically-minded monk as the titular protagonist. In “Cadfael” she was always “Maude.” And this makes some sense since William Marshall’s granddaughter ends up named “Maud” as well. Your views on “toxic masculinity” are spot-on. As I said in my recent “Battle Hymn” the left seems intent on leaving our nation “ruined and unmanned.” I did not mean “abandoned.” I meant the necessary virtues of masculinity have been drained out of our culture much to its detriment. I look at photographs of the men and women who fought World War II and cannot shake the feeling that those heroes who saved civilization are laughing at us — and deeply disappointed. Reply
Julian D. Woodruff July 8, 2024 Laughing at us, as you say, Brian; or else, like the proverbial drill sergeant, cornering us outside the mess hall and asking us in words sharper than I can summon, “We gave our all for freedom and for you–you’d shun that gift, you little pile of poo?” BTW, a notable contrast to Marshall’s retort is David’s grief at the death of Absalom: do you know Schuetz’s “Fili mi Absalom”?
Brian A. Yapko July 12, 2024 Thanks for this additional comment, Julian. You really know your musical history!! No, I’d never heard of Schuetz let alone his “Fili Mi Absalom” which I believe translates to “My son, my Absalom.” But I will give it a listen. You’re quite right. There’s nothing more gut-wrenching in the Old Testament than King David being told of his rebellious but deeply beloved son’s death. Yes, quite a contrast with John Marshall!
Brian A. Yapko July 9, 2024 Joe, two other things to add to my reply to this detailed comment. I used the modern “Marshall” rather than the Norman “Mareschal” for exactly the reasons you mention. But I should also mention my struggle between “Marshall” and “Marshal.” I used the modern spelling because I found use of the single “L” in the name ambiguous metrically — or at least I thought readers would be tempted to pronounce it with a French accent — Mar-SHAL. I found myself doing this over and over in the course of the composition. This, of course, would have drastically affected the meter. I found justification in my modern usage in the fact that although 80% of the literature uses single-L Marshal, a good number of works use the double-L that I went with. The adjoining village is “Hampstead Marshall” and many sources either prefer the LL or list the L and the LL interchangeably. (See, for example, http://www.newburyhistory.co.uk/newbury-castle). That being said, I still feel quite ambivalent about the decision and if there is a consensus that a single “L” is preferable to the double “L” , I have no objection to making the change. Just so you are clear that I didn’t make this decision capriciously. And lastly, an appreciation for your mention of the unyielding toughness of the Israeli army. They not only have two violent and dangerous foes to contend with while their every move is placed under a spotlight and microscope unknown to any other army on this Earth — they also have to fight against a deeply biased world opinion of those appalled and resentful that Israel refuses to commit suicide. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi July 9, 2024 I don’t think there is a hard and fast rule about “marshal” vs. “marshall.” Most big dictionaries allow for either spelling, with the notation that the double ll form is usually the British style. What should be noted is that the word is not from Latin “martialis” but from a Frankish-Germanic word meaning “cavalry officer” or “horse servant.” It later came to mean a high-ranking official.
Jeff Eardley July 7, 2024 Brian, for someone who has declared to have not a drop of English blood, you have just sent this Englishman to Wikepedia…again. Back in 1996, we had the third battle of Newbury when protesters against the new by-pass, pushed the budget up from 7 million pounds to around 42 million. The road was built regardless and is a delight to drive. It passes historic Highcleere castle, the home of the popular “Downton Abbey” TV series that you may have encounteted. Thanks for a great history lesson. I concur with Mr. Sale in your qualification for US poet laureate. It just has to happen. Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 An English heart, Jeff, but not a drop of English blood! I’m always pleased to pique a reader’s interest in something enough to make him want to do some additional research so that means I’ve done something right. Thank you for the generous comment, Jeff — especially for the laureate mention. And for your update on Newbury. It’s hard to picture this locale under the influence of the 21st Century! Reply
Yael July 7, 2024 This sure rivets my attention. It has suspense, adventure, psychology, and good story telling, all on a historical foundation. The length is just right too; long enough to include plenty of details and images to capture the imagination, but not so lengthy as to stress the attention span and cause details at the start to be forgotten before the closing stanza. This should be in a history book, great job! Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Thank you so much, Yael! I try to keep it moving but always worry in my longer poems about whether the character or plot can sustain a reader’s interest. This once came close to stretching it to the snapping point so I’m glad that it didn’t quite get there and worked for you. I love writing poetry based on history and am especially grateful for your history book endorsement! Reply
Sally Cook July 8, 2024 Dear Brian – I have a Plantagenet heritage of which I am very proud. Once I worked it out I joined Dames of the Magna Charta; took a lifetime membership’ never wanted to lose that connection. Genealogy has always been one of my strongest interests and so I read your excellent poem with great interests. Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Sally, thank you so much for reading and commenting! I’m so fascinated by your family background — you should be very proud to have Plantaganet ancestry — that means you’re related to the royal family! Henry II, the first Plantaganet, has fascinated me ever since I saw him portrayed by Peter O’Toole in The Lion in Winter with Katharine Hepburn as Eleanor of Aquitaine. But there are plenty of other fascinating members of that Royal House! Who doesn’t love Richard the Lionheart? Reply
Sally Cook July 14, 2024 Brian Don.t know why I didn’t continue with this conversation before except to sat that I must have become distracted by the usual insanities of life. What I meant to say was this: You mention my connection to the Royal family. Yes, it exists; I am a 32nd generation descendant from Edward I and Margaret of France and can prove it. This comes through a woman known as “the mother of governors” as so many early governors were descended from her. While writing this I’ve been frantically searching for the actual names and places but it is eluding me. Point being the current bunch are of German descent and not Plantagenet. Well, the world is shouting out its commands once more, but should you be interested, just ask Evan to connect us on the internet and I will look it up at a better time.
Brian A. Yapko July 15, 2024 Sally, what an amazing lineage you have! Edward I (Longshanks)! I would love to hear more. I will contact Evan and ask him for your email so I can write to you directly.
Daniel Kemper July 8, 2024 I got caught up in the story, then at the end when I met the historical notes, I had a flash– O WOW! This is real. This really happened. Very transporting, very engaging. I can feel how this sort of form fits you. Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 8, 2024 Daniel, thank you so much for this generous and evocative comment! I feel the same way you do when presented with a period piece — the enjoyment is greatly increased when I have that moment of revelation which you describe: “Wow, this is real!” Yes, history really happened. Museums also help bring this point home and it’s a special pleasure to examine the artifacts that document historical events. That history is real matters so much now in an age when ideologues will gladly rewrite it to suit their agendas. Reply
Margaret Coats July 8, 2024 Brian, first let me acknowledge your deftness with the tools of English craft you wield. The wording and flow are splendid, as befits the heroic story you tell. I am appalled only by the wicked words you allow the villain Stephen and his squire about their liege lady Maude. She has her own regal heroism, exercised in ways that are something beyond the feminine, though without neglecting what is suitable to her. I would suggest that since you have put “empress” in quotation marks showing Stephen’s scorn for Maude, you should even more fittingly put “king” in quotes when spoken by John Marshall. This entire story demonstrates that Marshall did not accept Stephen as king; why would he address him outright as such? I have long been an avid reader of English history, and at 13 I encountered William the Marshal in the classic work of historian George Saintsbury. You’ll understand his flavor from the motto he professed to maintain honesty, “Historians may lie, but history cannot.” He gives full credit to William for the part he played, but in a fat one-volume history of England, had no space for this story relayed to you by Joseph Salemi. I’m glad to see the word “strategic.” Newbury was close to the border of the west country controlled by Maude and her supporters. John Marshall’s castle was greater than it might seem in several ways, and his resistance to Stephen was significant. You must give reasons for his stand so firm as to override feeling for a son’s life, and considering all we read here, there is more than one. What matters to Stephen is Marshall’s feudal loyalty to Maude. What matters to Marshall seems to be a combination of (1) feudal loyalty, (2) defending the castle he has constructed and takes pride in, (3) maintaining the honor of the family he is establishing, (4) maintaining his position as lord of the surrounding territory [something of high import to his vassals during the Anarchy], and (5) patriotism in a more modern sense, because you, Brian, seem to have him express all of this in “England.” Of course that word defies Stephen, who said earlier, “I’m England.” Do you think Marshall’s “England” includes the patrilineal right of Maude to the crown, superseding the judgment of the council that chose Stephen instead? That concept of right might be a rejection of Anglo-Saxon ways in favor of Anglo-Norman. And wouldn’t Marshall have said “England” in French? That was usual speech for upper classes for almost three centuries after the 1066 Conquest. Therefore I imagine that the key statement of the poem (hammer and anvil) would have been pronounced “marteau et enclume,” which adds “martial” to the image of Marshall. “Enclume” (from Latin “incus”) gives a bit clearer picture of the castle’s noble lady as willing to undergo more “in-striking” or “impelling” or “incussion” so as to shape more sons. Please excuse me if I seem to suggest writing in Norman French! I’m quite sincere about the praise of your English. And I have one more word usage to admire in the poem. When you, Brian, use “lied” and “lies” here, you correct an unhappy current tendency to use the word imprecisely to mean “everything said by those who disagree with me.” Stephen says Marshall “lied,” but the reader knows exactly what lie was told: Marshall said, in tactical deceit, that he would surrender his castle. But when Stephen goes on to say that Marshall’s strongest weapons are his lies, the reader can see this is false. Stephen is the liar because, as he admits after the outburst, the greatest weapon of Marshall is his steadfast determination to maintain his honor and position. Stephen makes the lying outburst to disgrace Marshall by calling him a liar to his face, (deliberately insulting his honor), but Marshall faces Stephen down. His is the noble defiance of a man of honor. It goes on to characterize the son who serves future kings. Very much enjoyed your putting this rare tale in verse. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi July 8, 2024 I don’t know whether the story of John Marshall’s reply to King Stephen’s threat is real or apocryphal, nor can I account for why Saintsbury ignored it. Does it matter in a work of fictive mimesis? As the reporter Mike Wallace used to say, “Why spoil a good story with the facts?” But since you bring up factual matters, let’s agree that John Marshall was just as much of a side-switching, opportunistic, grab-the-main-chance operator as the sleazy Matilda/Maude. The history of those troubled years is a mind-boggling labyrinth of broken oaths, treachery, backstabbing, and ambition-driven power-plays. “Feudal loyalty” in a high-stakes game for the control of kingdoms or rich provinces was about as meaningless as Joe Biden’s speeches. Every interested party was “lying” through his (or her) teeth. Remember that John Marshall’s “noble defiance of a man of honor” came from someone who broke his oath of fealty to King Stephen. It’s a little late in the day to champion the cause of Matilda-Maude, whether out of nostalgic feminism, or on the assumption that twelfth-century speakers of Norman French understood the Latin derivation of “enclume” and its graphic possibilities as a metaphor for intercourse. And royalty and high nobility were commonly referred to by the name of the territory they ruled (in Macbeth, the thanes of Glamis and Cawdor are referred to as “Glamis” and “Cawdor,” just as the Duke of Clarence is called “Clarence” in Richard III). So a king of England could be called “England,” even though every speaker of the language would have known that the word also referred to a particular chunk of land. Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 9, 2024 Thank you for these additional thoughts, Joe, directed to Margareat’s comment. I concur with all of your points and have, to some degree, incorporated them in my own comment to Margaret. Given the multitude of sources concerning the story regarding John Marshall’s muscular reply to King Stephen, it is indeed odd to not have it included in a major biography. As I mentioned to Margaret, you are exactly right about my usage “I’m England.” It is Shakespearian and derived from a number of sources, most directly Henry V when the Kings of England and France greet each other with their nation names rather than regnal names. As for lies and deception in politics (so modern…) My image of Medieval politics is that it was very much riven with betrayals, broken oaths and surprise attacks. This happened between feudal lords as well as within royal families. Perhaps especially within royal families. My first real exposure to the unscrupulous nature of Medieval politics was “The Lion in Winter” — the 1968 film (written by William Goldman) with Peter O’Toole as Henry II Katharine Hepburn as Eleanor of Aquitaine. Eleanor is routinely kept imprisoned after leading multiple rebellions against her husband, sons Richard (a very young Anthony Hopkins), Geoffrey and John all betray each other in order to try to take the throne, and all while everyone in the family tries to manipulate King Philip of France. Sex and bloodshed are used in equal measures as weapons of statecraft. It’s disturbing, of course, but realistic and wildly entertaining.
Brian A. Yapko July 9, 2024 Margaret, thank you so much for this detailed and appreciative comment. I tried to give the piece a little bit of an archaic feel and so am grateful for your assessment of deftness with English. I regret the harsh words spoken about the Empress Maude/Matilda by King Stephen and his squire. However, this is a dramatic monologue in Stephen’s voice and I can’t imagine this Medieval king and his squire having anything nice to say about the political and military adversary who has caused him so much grief. I don’t think I use language here that would make Chaucer blush, so I’m inferring that your unhappiness is with the treatment of Maude herself less than the language marking their disdain. I do not share their disdain and this may mollify you a bit: When it comes to the Anarchy, I happen to be Team Maude and I acknowledge and unqualifiedly applaud her regal heroism. Ever since I first learned of the Anarchy through Cadfael and then started to dig deeper into it, I’ve been quite indignant that Maude was deemed unworthy to serve as sovereign simply because she was a woman. Strong women in English history had not yet quite made a name for themselves, even though Maude’s own daughter-in-law would be the intimidating and much-accomplished Eleanor of Aquitaine and we’re centuries before Mary I or Elizabeth I. Stephen has always struck me as a usurper and even something of a nonentity who presumed too much. Maude had the better genealogical claim as daughter of Henry I. And Henry I was very careful in collecting oaths of fealty to his daughter. When reading the history, I’m much relieved when Maude’s son at least gets to ascend to the throne as Henry II. It’s not what she deserved, but it’s a vindication. I did indeed consider the possibility of putting “King” in quotes to parallel “Empress.” The only thing that stopped me was that this is Stephen himself describing a conversation in which he was referred to as “King”. I don’t think Stephen would knowingly diminish himself by seeing the title “king” offered by Marshall as anything but authentic, even if we as a reader might understand it differently. If someone sneeringly referred to me in conversation as “poet Yapko” and then I relayed that conversation to a third party, I probably would not put the sarcasm of “poet” in quotes. If this were Maude’s poem, or even John Marshall’s, I would see it differently. But when speaking in Stephen’s voice, my characterization of him is such that he will take “king” on face value because that’s what he thinks he is owed. Interesting about your Marshall book because Dr. Salemi mentioned the incident to me very much in passing on a quite unrelated subject and without mentioning who the Medieval personages involved were. So later I googled “Medieval siege — son threatened — hammer and anvil to make new sons” and this brought me immediately to Sir William Marshal in World Encyclopedia. That, any some other sites, then got me to John Marshal, the Newbury location and the role of the siege during the Anarchy. Who can say if the story is absolutely true, but it is mentioned in many Encyclopedias and other histories. If it’s not true, it has acquired the venerable status of heroic myth. You’ve well-described the many complex motivations that John Marshall must have possessed in his defense of Newbury even to the point of the death of his son and the potential loss of his status and fortune. The two “England” references you mention are very apt and Dr. Salemi offers the precise explanation for Stephen’s statement “I am England.” I took that from Shakespeare who did that repeatedly with royals – they become the personification of the realm. More specifically, I’m thinking of the meeting between Henry V and the French King in Henry V when they call each other England and France, respectively. Marshall says “this English realm is all…” he divorces the commingled identity of sovereign and country, a reminder – perhaps even a rebuke – that all people die, even kings and queens, but that it is the country itself that matters.” I don’t feel like I have the academic chops to answer your points about Norman French versus Latin versus proto-Middle English here. You make some fascinating linguistic points which would make for an interesting essay. What I do recall is that Edward III is the first English monarch to actually have English as a first language and that’s not until the mid-14th Century, so of course Stephen and Maude and Marshall all would have referred to “Angleterre” rather than “England.” But, fortunately, this is above my paygrade as I’m writing in modern English. On the subject of lies… Interestingly, I don’t consider Stephen a liar in his situation so much as a man who is sincerely surprised by the twist of events and is trying to come up with a solution which is honorable, which does not damage his own dignity, which does not bow to this minor lord who bested him, but which also benefits England in the end. I think he fully intended to kill the boy until he was shocked into a change of heart. One of the things I most value in dramatic monologues is the twist in perspective and decision-making which I want the reader to experience in real time. That is what I intended here. As Stephen sees with better eyes, so do we. Thank you so much, Margaret, for so many rich observations. I feel like I could keep writing more but must move on. In the meantime, you’ve given me much to contemplate. Reply
Margaret Coats July 10, 2024 Brian, thanks for taking my comments seriously. I’m most happy to know that, looking at history, you are a partisan of Maude. My remarks about her should be taken in the same vein as those of Jane Austen, “a partial, prejudiced and ignorant Historian” passionately siding with Mary Queen of Scots in her brief “History of England.” Interesting that Mary’s story is much like that of Maude, losing the war but winning the future when her execrable rival had to accept Mary’s son as successor, with the result that British royalty long since descends from Maude and Mary, not from their enemies. By the way, Empress Maude’s mother, consort of Henry I, is known to English history as “Good Queen Maude.” For both of them, “Matilda” was the Latin name of official record. I should make it clear that my question about “England” in your poem had nothing to do with the title as wrongly claimed by Stephen. I spoke of the usage you put in the mouth of John Marshall, “This English realm means all,” with the apparent appeal to patriotism in a modern sense. Stephen’s claim “I’m England” is quite easy to understand, and there was no reason to spend effort on explaining it. The use of a title as personal name is well known in history, very frequently used by Shakespeare as you note, and is current today in the United Kingdom–not so much for the king as for various nobles. Indeed you use it in that manner right here. “Newbury shall yield” refers to John Marshall himself as much as to his castle. I am still interested in your interpretation of his “This English realm means all.” This places the kingdom of England above everything else important to John Marshall, or perhaps allows England to include everything important to him. That’s why I spent time on enumerating those values, without going into the full extent of spiritual and emotional things fervent patriots generally hold. Concerning the historicity of the incident and the phrase so significant in your poem, we have to look neither to Stephen nor John Marshall. As your endnote suggests, the poem is in fact about the six-year-old boy William. And again, I must clarify that I did not doubt the historicity of this small event. My reason for speaking of Saintsbury’s history and my coming to know of William the Marshal, was not to throw doubt on this poem which others have praised for its immediacy. I have read many, many volumes of English history, and never, ever heard of this particular Newbury Castle incident. As you admit, and as Joseph Salemi was the first to say, the event and the key phrase may be apocryphal–though they could be true history too insignificant to mention in overviews or even in accounts of the period. You were wise to do a online search and find the phrase and event well known. For myself, the historic greatness of William the Marshal is partly due to his fame cultivated by family and followers. In your searches, you undoubtedly ran across the Wikipedia article in English on the “Histoire de Guillaume le Mareschal.” This book is how we know much more about him than about almost anyone of his time period. It is in French, and probably contains the first written record of your poem’s story. The biography was written about 75 years after the event, and a few years after William’s death, by a poet historian working for William’s son (also named William). He was a careful researcher who had access to material documenting the Marshal’s career. He was also fond of colorful stories that enliven his account. These, including the Newbury castle story, may be based on traditional tales that could be true, or they may be invented by the biographer to exalt William into a personage of heroic myth. They are too far from the events to be records from eyewitnesses, yet close enough to convey what persons in the next generation said, heard and relayed. Because William was an extraordinary man who rose remarkably in the world, his biographer might well have favored stories that seemed to predict that. Such is the Newbury castle siege story. The medieval poet liked it, and it duly fascinates poets at present. Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 12, 2024 Thank you, Margaret, for this additional comment clarifying your views and adding further insight to the poem and the history itself. Although it was my intent to put a spotlight on the interchange between Marshall and King Stephen, you are quite right to see the shift of focus to young William, who will end up being a very consequential figure. The poem ends with his welfare and the poet’s note which explains his significance. I will have to give more thought to the conflict between Elizabeth I and Mary, Queen of Scots. I’ve seen the films, of course, but that was many years ago. Perhaps more poetry will be inspired! In fact, I’m certain of it! I’m unduly amused by the idea of referring to nobility by their geographical association. It seems to be a custom now mercifully retired. I do recall Louis IVX saying “l’etat c’est moi” but that was a long time ago. I don’t fancy the idea of referring to Charles III as “England” or “Great Britain.” And the idea of referring to your present governor as “California” or the present occupant of the White House as “America” rubs me the wrong way. Reply
Susan Jarvis Bryant July 11, 2024 Brian, your poem had me hooked from the painful admission of defeat in the first three lines and held me in its linguistic magic until the triumphant and prophetic roar of the closing couplet. I have read with interest the comments on this piece of England’s history and have thoroughly enjoyed the lessons I’ve received… but for me, this beautiful poem is so much more than the facts. My favorites lines are these: “This lad, this William… What should be his doom? / I could not send this youngling to his tomb.” – to mention “this lad” as “this William” elevates the boy to a sovereign individual of worth, and that makes all the difference. It’s that sort of heartfelt attention to detail that elevates this poem to greater heights. In a time when men were as brave as lions, you speak of an act of the heart… a wise act of conscience that changed the course of history without the murderous act of a minor that would thrill the very devil. The fact that you have a gift for breathing life and very human traits into characters from history who are shunned and frowned upon today, brings a spiritual aspect to these historic events… something other in this self-centered, materialistic world that brings with it hope and meaning. Brian, thank you! Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 12, 2024 Susan, I love this comment and am so grateful for your deeply observant eye which clearly sees everything I was aiming for. I’m glad to shine a spotlight on English history which is so full of stories of heroism and nobility. It saddens me to think that England has shifted so dramatically that it has almost lost continuity with that past. We shall see. In the meantime, wow! You zeroed in on that lad/William sentence so insightfully! You see the process of the boy’s humanization in Stephen’s head perfectly. It takes a strong person to change his mind and then act on it. I consider this a particularly valued character asset these days when so many people coast on ideology without ever giving things a second look or considering that they might be wrong. Thank you for the kind comments about the poetry itself and the subject of this particular poem, this “hard-bitten masculinity” that Dr. Salemi speaks of above. What this signifies for me is boundaries. Strong people have strong boundaries and they will not allow anything to breach them, even personal sacrifice or grief. We must draw lines or live in chaos. There’s a metaphor here, I think, with the defenses of a castle. Something to consider when we look at a world where defenses and barriers and borders are criticized. They shouldn’t be. They’re important. Reply
Joshua C. Frank July 14, 2024 Wow… great historical poem, and great choice of subject! You have a gift for making history come alive. I have to wonder if Marshall was bluffing, knowing the speaker wouldn’t have the heart to go through with such a thing. (Sorry I’m a week late for this… busy week.) Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 15, 2024 Josh, thank you so much for this kind comment. I’m always so fascinated by history and love sharing what little I know with readers. You raise an interesting question — one which we can never know. Was Marshall bluffing? In the brutal world of Medieval Europe, I rather doubt it. And I think Stephen would slaughter a “youngling” with little remorse — unless he saw some strategic reason not to. The very first word of this poem is “strategic” and that is, I believe, the key to Stephen’s character. I think Stephen saw strategic reasons to keep William alive He would indeed make a good and brave knight. Reply
Frank Rable July 16, 2024 Most enjoyable! An interesting time when final decisions were made by kings instead of committees. You are a time traveling bard, sir, who has seen much. But you neglected the epilogue: And so King Stephen came back to threaten Marshall. “Mareschal, ye weel soon regret defying yer king. I will raise yer son as my own. Aye one day and soon, he will dance upon yer grave where all but yer head weel rest. Even now armies approach. Ye weel soon have no castle. You enjoy a bluff? Then let us begin the game. I see your castle. You raise me bowmen on yer wall. Weel I call, or drop ma weapons and run? Nay, I raise you my new French trebuchet. Ye want to see it. Will ye fold? Nay? So then, I weel raze YOUR CASTLE. Hammer and anvil indeed! [Fade out to Stephen’s maniacal laughter} A satisfaction in that, don’t you think? And a lesson: Never play poker with a king who can throw hundred pound rocks a quarter mile. Evan, my apologies. I was so inspired by Mr. Yapko’s creation that I wanted to become part of it with my bogus Monty Python accent. Brian, weel done! Reply
Brian A. Yapko July 16, 2024 Frank, thank you so much for your fun comment. I appreciate the kind words, but even more I love the dialogue you’ve provided as an inspired epilogue! What a hoot! I’m glad that my work inspired you and I would love to see more! Reply
Frank Rable July 16, 2024 We’ll see. But next time I should bring it through the front door. Brian, I just hope that a little of the remarkable talent I see here will rub off on me. I want to write! I never realized how much I would love it. I create a world. I control the horizontal. I control the vertical. I can change the focus from a soft blur to crystal clarity. I can (okay, that was from The Outer Limits). Years ago I built a model of the Clipper Ship Cutty Sark. What is a “cutty sark”? Why does the figurehead hold out a horse tail? I discovered “Tam O’Shanter” and Robert Burns with poetry and language like “The storm without might rair and rustle, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle.” Never know how and when inspiration will seize you. I just try to be open to it now.
Joseph S. Salemi July 17, 2024 In Lowland Scots dialect, a “cutty sark” means a short nightgown or shift. Since such a garment does not encumber the legs, it allows one to go forward quickly. Giving this name to the ship was to suggest that it was built for speed.
