Getting Medieval

One Minute History--The Saxons

Rome gave up on Britain after years of strife with the locals, but also because the central government in Rome was crumbling. In the early years of the 400s, Britain was barely able to sigh with relief to see the backs of the Romans when the pagan invaders of Angles, Saxons, and Jutes from Germany (Saxony) and Denmark started arriving, raiding, enslaving, and eventually staying in the abandoned Roman settlements. It was a rough go. Christianity had yet to take hold on the sceptered isle. We see the pagan influence of these raiders even today through our days of the week: the gods Tiw, Woden, Thor, and Friya give us four days, and then the moon and sun have theirs. The last of the Roman influence--Saturn--gets one, too. Slowly, the hand-to-mouth existance got better and the isle became known as Angle-land, where the people spoke Anglo-Saxon (or Old English), giving us such written works as Beowulf. 

Next time: St. Patrick and Christianity 

Thee and Thine Can Pre-Order Shadow of the Alchemist

And you should! Just a reminder that October is closer than you think. Disgraced Knight turned detective Crispin Guest has a new adventure--SHADOW OF THE ALCHEMIST-- and it will be released October 15, but you can pre-order now!

It's available in hardcover, ebook, and audiobook!

From Amazon  or your favorite Indie bookstore. For the Nook go here. 

And for those who have already ordered, I thank you! If you'd like a bookmark, please let me know: jeriwesterson@gmail.com

And don't forget to ask your local library to order a copy!

The Fighting Saints!

In this corner, St. Edmund, an East Anglian king in the late 800s, plagued by Viking hoards and eventually martyred by them.

And in this corner, St. George, a 2nd century Roman soldier from Cappadocia in what we now call Turkey, who fought a dragon and was martyred defending the Church.

In the early days of England, St. Edmund was considered the patron saint of that sceptered isle. But as the Middle Ages progressed, and King Edward III came to the throne and began the Order of the Garter, he pushed for a knight to be patron of England from on high, and so George moved up in the ranks.

But memories are long in England, and several times in its history, there has been a push to put local boy Edmund back on the patron throne.

A recent article from BBC News says that the debate is still not over:

John Clemence, president of the Royal Society of St George, said St George was "well established over many centuries".

"St George is the patron saint of many other countries and, as such, he's a unifying saint," Mr Clemence said.

"All power to St Edmund's supporters, because it's good that they're taking interest in their local history, but I don't think the campaign has got much chance of success.

"There isn't a great tradition of patron saints being born in the country of which they are patron saint."

Them's fightin' words! Viking-slayed or slayer of dragons? Who will come out on top?

You can read the full article here.

The Cantebury Tales--Animated

Amusing stop-motion presentation utilizing different styles of animation to tell each tale of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. Thought you'd enjoy seeing these. I based characters in TROUBLED BONES on the pilgrims, shaping them a little differently to tell my tale, while Chaucer certainly molded his from real life along with a generous dollop of his cutting wit to tell his particular tales as well. Enjoy!

 

Medieval Movies I Could See a Million Times--The Court Jester

Continuing my series of Medieval Movies I Could See A Million Times, we come to an all-time favorite, The Court Jester, starring that jester of jesters, Danny Kaye.

He plays Hubert Hawkins, a refugee from a carnival who falls in with a Robin Hood-type fellow called the Black Fox. Set in some mythical medieval era in England, the rightful king was ursurped and the true heir, a baby with the purple pimpernel birthmark on a butt cheek, is being transported by the Black Fox's men. Or in this case, right hand woman, Maid Jean, played by Glynnis Johns. She and Hawkins set out in diguise to get the baby to safety and find that they might be falling in love, if Hawkins wasn't such a drip of a guy. But he will show his courage in this silly but wonderful plot. 

They discover a Jester on his way to court and Hawkin's takes his place. In the meantime, evil Lord Ravenhurst (played straight by Basil Rathbone in his Robin-Hood-Nemesis-kind-of-role) has hired the Jester, who is really an assassin, to kill his rivals. Angela Lansbuy plays the king's daughter who is looking for romance, not a marriage with the crass Griswold and sends her maid and witch Griselda (played by Mildred Natwick) to scotch those plans.

The Jester ends up insulting Griswold but in order to assauge his honor properly, the Jester must be knighted in one of the funniest scenes in cinema history.

The songs are great, the jokes fantastic (who can forget lines like: "The pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true!"), and the Technicolor a feast for the senses. But apparently, even though this was the most expensive comedy to date and Kaye was at the top of his game, the movie when it was released in 1956 was a flop. It gained new life and a cult following on television, though.

Is it medieval? Not in the sightest. I love it anyway.

Some great moments (watch the videos): The Maladjusted Jester Song

Get it? Got it? Good.

Opening Credits--Life Could Not Better Be

Outfox the Fox

 

One Minute History--Roman Basilica

Circa AD 100, when London had been a city for at least fifty years, the Roman inhabitants built what we call a basilica approximately 500 feet long, larger than St. Paul's Cathedral. In its day, the building was not for worship, but served as administration buildings, housing a law court, town hall, and community center. Along side it was an open square, called a forum, where the townsfolk could gather with market stalls and simply offering a place to meet others.

The basilica was discovered in 1848 when Leadenhall Market was demolished in 1880 and Half Moon Passage was excavated. The remains of a large arch were what remained, and remains to this day, and can be seen in the basement of the present day barbershop at the corner of Gracechurch Street and Leadenhall Market (between Cornhill and Lombard).

Here is an artist's rendition of what it might have looked like. It was destroyed around AD 300 by Rome as a punishment for London's support of the rogue emperor Carausius.

Next time: The Saxons

Canterbury Cathedral in Danger of Closing

According to this article from BBC News, Canterbury Cathedral, the sight of Crispin's adventure in TROUBLED BONES, is in desperate need of funds to refurbish itfrom falling down on the heads of pilgrims. It's old and has been subject to the decay that pollution inflicts on the stone of the cathedral itself and its pilgrim gateway. Many of the stone structures throughout Europe are getting a bit crumbly from pollution and weathering. Time to step forward and give, give, give.

Medieval Memos

It's a constant joy for me when new bits about the Middle Ages pops up in today's news. Oh, there are the skeltons, of course (and I'm a sucker or a medieval skeleton!) but there are also the little things that come up that simply delight.

Take this, for instance. Little notes and memos that we take for granted today. Because literacy was iffy, and because the printing press hadn't yet reached wide popularity, the written word was reserved for the rich and in monasteries: bibles, psalters, breviaries, and the occasional book of stories, either of the saints as in the Golden Legend or handbooks of chivalry, like Geoffrie de Charny's Book of Chivalry. There were also household accounting books that give light to the everyday expenses in a medieval manor house. But how about those little notes like we leave around? "Be sure to pick up a quart of milk before you get home" or "Don't forget to let the dog out." They had them, too. It's just that it is so rare to find them as they literally fall through the cracks of history, or at least the places that such slips of parchment might be subject to, stuffing into a drafty window crack or simply getting dropped down the loo.

One hundred and thirty-two such notes--the equivalent of medieval Post-its--were discovered by history professor Eric Kwakkel and his co-teacher Paul Hoftijzer while teaching their class at Leiden University in the Netherlands. The letters and receipts were hidden inside the bindings of a book printed in 1577 and were from an unidentified court in the Rhine region. The book is part of the Bibliotheca Thysiana, a seventeenth-century library in Leiden, established by Johannes Thysius (d. 1653).

As the blog post states: "One note written by (or on behalf of) Count Philip (d. 1508), who held court near the river Rhine...on 31 May 1486 he sent his servant to Heidelberg with a most charming request. 'Could you please get me some wild roses?', he writes, adding 'But make sure to also include some that are not yet flowering.'”

You can see the blog post here.