Medieval Crime and Punishment: Henry II and the Common Law

King Henry II of England is best known in the popular imagination for the murder of Archbishop Thomas Becket, a murder for which the King was blamed. Four knights broke into Canterbury Cathedral on 29 December 1170 and slew Becket in the most brutal manner.

The Murder of Thomas Becket c 1480 Public Domain- British Library

Whatever one’s view of the volatile Henry, there is one achievement from his thirty-five-year reign that stands above all others: his reform of the English legal system, which laid the foundations of the English Common Law. When he came to the throne in 1154 at the age of just twenty-one, his realm was in deep disarray following civil war. He urgently needed to re-establish royal authority and impose order and set about doing so with his customary relentless drive. The judicial system was the subject of much of his attention and he was aided in this by the talented Becket, who was his chancellor at the time.

Henry II enthroned, arguing with Thomas Becket c. 1307 - c. 1327 Public Domain- British Library

Henry addressed reform of both land law and criminal law. With land law, cases relating to an individual being dispossessed or those in which inheritance was in dispute were now settled in a trial by jury. The jury system was far quicker and more efficient than the system it replaced. Given that said system was one of trial by combat, one can see why it was not just the efficiency of the new system that made it so popular.

His reform of criminal law was even more impressive. He issued new legislation at Clarendon in 1166 and Northampton in 1176. It was at Clarendon where the procedures of criminal justice were first established, addressing how serious felonies such as murder, robbery and theft would be dealt with. Juries of presentment were established, consisting of twelve lawful men in each hundred (a subdivision of a county) and four in each vill (village). These juries were not there to decide on guilt or innocence, but to support an accusation of a serious crime.

Anyone who was accused of such crimes would be put in prison to await trial. Those trials could only be heard by the King’s justices, who travelled the country to do so. Henry first introduced his system of itinerant justices at Clarendon but refined the system at Northampton. England was divided into six circuits, with three justices, the justices of the general eyre, allocated to each.  Twelfth century chronicler Roger of Howden lists the eighteen justices itinerant and their circuits for 1176.

Detail of an historiated initial 'I'(udex) of a judge c. 1360- c. 1375 Public Domain - British Library

One of the justices listed was Ranulf de Glanville. De Glanville was one of Henry’s staunchest allies, securing key victories for the King in the rebellion of 1173-74 and rising to the position of Justiciar of England. The ‘Treatise on the Laws and Customs of the Kingdom of England’, produced in the late twelfth century, is the earliest treatise on English law and is commonly referred to as ‘Glanvill’, though it is unlikely that de Glanville was its author.

The justices provided a system of criminal investigation for the whole country. The impact of the arrival of the travelling court should not be underestimated. It could consist of several hundred people, all of whom were tasked with supporting the royal justices in administering the law in the name of the lord King. As well as being administratively impressive, it would have been a spectacle that reinforced Henry’s power over all his subjects. It would also have instilled awe and fear in all those who witnessed it, especially those who were accused of a serious crime.

The accused were brought before the justices. Proof of their guilt or innocence could be established in a number of ways, such as witness testimony, documents or the swearing of oaths. Unlike criminal trials today, the jury acted as witnesses and not an impartial panel. They would give the account of what had happened.

Five judges and three plaintiffs c. 1360- c. 1375 Public Domain - British Library

In cases that were not clear cut or in those of secret homicide where there were no witnesses, the justices used the ordeal. Ordeal could be by cold water or by hot iron. The blessing of the water and the iron served to bring the notion of God’s judgement, judicium Dei, into the proceedings.

There was great ceremony and a long build-up attached to the ordeal, which would have added to the pressure on the accused to confess. The accused would be taken to church four days before the day on which the ordeal was due to take place. They had to wear the clothes of the penitent, fast and hear several masses. If they still did not confess, the ordeal would take place.

Two judges addressing a prisoner held by a court officer c. 1360-c. 1375 Public Domain - British Library

The most innocent of hearts must have quailed. Stripped to only a loin cloth, the accused would be led to the pit, which was twenty feet wide and twelve feet deep and full of water. A priest would then bless the water. God would now be the judge: His blessed water would receive the accused if innocent, reject him if he was guilty. The accused would be bound, thumbs to toes, and lowered in from a platform.

With ordeal by hot iron, the accused had to undergo the same preparation of fasting and penitence. A length of iron would be blessed and heated in a fire until it was red hot. The accused would have to take it in one hand and carry it for three paces. The injured hand would be bandaged and then examined three days after the ordeal. If it had healed, then innocence was proclaimed. If it had not, then the accused was guilty.

Both forms of ordeal were terrifying and horrific in themselves, and the lengthy preparations would have only added to the pressure to make a confession. Once the accused made a confession, it could not be retracted. In 1215, the Church forbade priests to take part in the ordeal, bringing an end to its use.

A man hanging from gallows c. 1360-c. 1375 Public Domain - British Library

For those found guilty, the King’s punishment awaited. Hanging was reserved for the worst crimes. Thieves and robbers could lose a foot and, from 1176, their right hand. The law also had a final judgement it could impose, even if the accused was acquitted by undergoing the ordeal. If it was judged that the accused had a particularly bad reputation, as sworn to by the jury, then the accused was to leave the King’s lands as an outlaw and had to swear under oath that they would never return.

And lest anyone think that they could take the law into their own hands and administer punishments themselves, the King’s justices had a clear system of heavy fines for those who would dare to do so. Order would prevail. Henry, the consummate administrator, had thought of everything.


References:
All images are in the Public Domain and are part of the British Library's Catalogue of Illuminated Manuscripts. 
Bartlett, Robert, Trial by Fire and Water: The Medieval Judicial Ordeal (Oxford, 1986)
Bartlett, Robert, The New Oxford History of England: England under the Norman and Angevin Kings 1075–1225 (Oxford, 2003)
Hudson, John, The Formation of the English Common Law (London, 1996)
Pollock, Frederick, and Maitland, Frederic William, The History of English Law Before the Time of Edward I (Cambridge, 1898)
Warren, W. L., Henry II (Yale, 2000)

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I wrote this post for the English Historical Fiction Authors blog where it was published on October 3, 2018.

Medieval Monks & Their Meals

The medievals were well acquainted with the Seven Deadly Sins, one of which was/is gluttony—the vice of excessive eating and drinking.

It is therefore no surprise that it was one of the vices that Saint Benedict, a key figure in starting the monastic movement in the early Christian Church, wanted to avoid. Benedict was a Roman nobleman who in around 500 AD, chose to leave Rome and worship Christ in an isolated setting. His popularity grew and he founded his own monastery, writing his famous Benedictine Rule. The Rule is a set of regulations for those in the monastic life and shaped almost every aspect of that life in the medieval period.

Saint Benedict

Saint Benedict did not approve of personal possessions and he prescribed how many hours a monk should sleep. And the Rule also laid down what monks should eat and the quantities of food that should be eaten. Benedict forbade the eating of meat from four legged animals. He was a fan of black bread, plain water, greens and vegetables.

He believed that monks should eat once a day in winter and have a second lighter meal in summer, in the evenings when days were longer. His plan was that monks should have a choice of two cooked meals, vegetable or cereal based and which could include a modest amount of fish or some egg. Meat was only for those who were ill. On feast days, monks could be allowed a supplementary treat known as a 'pittance'. A pittance might be better quality bread or wine instead of beer.

The rationale behind Benedict's Rule was to support one of the three monastic vows: chastity. There was a belief that a rich diets inflamed the senses, incited greed and lust. A full monk was a sleepy monk, and so would not be in a fit state to pray for hours at a time. Benedict did acknowledge that monks needed to have extra treats every now and then. Brothers were allowed to eat more if they were invited to the Abbot's table.

But as with all good intentions, the Rule was adapted over the centuries. A special room called the misericord was built for infirm monks. This was separate to the main refectory (dining room), so meat could be eaten here. Yet monks in full health would retire there to consume meat. By 1336, Pope Benedict XII (yes, another Benedict) permitted meat on four days outside of fast days. And what meat: records show the consumption of beef, mutton, pork, veal and suckling pig. Poultry and game were also popular: monks consumed swan, cygnet, chicken, duck and goose.

Another way in which the Rule was adapted was with regard to communication. It was stipulated that monks’ meals should be eaten in silence. However, no-one mentioned sign language. Or whistling. The monks adopted a practical solution to the extent that twelfth century chronicler Gerald of Wales complained of dining monks behaving like ‘jesters’ after one visit to Canterbury.

It has been calculated that some monks could have been consuming up to 7000 calories a day. Astonishing when you think that today, the recommended calorie intake for an adult male is 2500 calories. This level of consumption is certainly not what Benedict would have had in mind. His rule on gluttony did not just cover quantity but also quality. Monks should eat only at allotted times and consume whatever was presented. Food should be fuel for the body and nothing more.

What is also of note is that as much as one fifth of monks’ enormous calorie intake could have come from alcohol. Monks had access to beer (as did the rest of the population: it was safer to drink than water) but also wine, the bulk of which was imported from Gascony. One could argue that the monks practised restraint by only drinking wine on saints’ days—of which there were about seventy in the year.

Fish was also popular, especially as no-one was allowed to eat meat on a Friday. In the days before effective refrigeration, fish would come from the fresh waters of rivers, lakes and managed fish ponds. Coastal communities would eat fresh sea fish. For those further inland, this fish was eaten salted, smoked, dried or pickled.

Earlier in the medieval period, Wednesdays and Saturdays were also non-meat days, as well as the dietary restrictions imposed for Lent and Advent. That didn't stop the monks. With another bit of monastic Rule tweaking, certain types of geese and puffins were deemed to be fish because of their close association with water. A monastic feast day could consist of a couple of dozen dishes.

The monks were fans of toe-to-tail eating. Umbles, for instance, were sheep’s entrails cooked in ale with breadcrumbs and spices. Deer entrails might also be on offer, as would tongue and mutton in sauce. Dowcet sounds far more appealing, certainly for this writer: a sweet custard made of milk, cream, sugar, dried fruits and eggs. It is unlikely such dishes were a rare treat. Archaeological remains from a medieval hospital in London found evidence of monks with worse teeth than their patients. Others from priories and abbeys have found skeletal remains with obesity-related joint disease.

But these huge levels of consumption were taking place in a society where the vast majority of people were at the brink of starvation or were actually starving. Ordinary people began to deeply resent the excesses of the privileged religious. By the fourteenth century there were poems and ballads mocking the monastic life and the over-privileged monks. The stereotype of the overfed monk, portly in his robes, immune from poverty, became one focus for discontent with the established church—and a very visible one.
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All images are in the Public Domain and are part of the British Library's Catalogue of Illuminated Manuscripts. 

References:
Jones, Terry & Eriera, Alan: Medieval Lives, London, BBC Books (2004)
Kerr, Julie: Life in the Medieval Cloister, London, Continuum Publishing (2009)
Livingstone, E.A.,ed.:The Concise Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church (2 rev.ed.), Oxford University Press (2006, Current Online Version: 2013)
Mortimer, Ian. The Time Traveller's Guide to Medieval England. London: The Bodley Head. (2008)
Whittock, Martyn, A Brief History of Life in the Middle Ages: London, Constable & Robinson (2009)

I wrote this post for the English Historical Fiction Authors blog where it was published on June 29, 2016. 

Illuminated Manuscripts: Treasures from the Medieval Scribes

The word manuscript literally means ‘written by hand’ and medieval manuscripts refers to those books produced in Europe between about the fifth century and the late fifteenth century. Illuminated manuscripts are works which are decorated with a variety of pictures and ornamentation.

Psalm 27 from the Vespasian Psalter- 8th Century Kent.
It is the earliest surviving English biblical example of an initial with a narrative scene.

The word ‘illuminated’ comes from a usage of the Latin word illuminare in the sense of its meaning ‘to adorn’. Burnished gold was often used in the decorating of books from the 13th century onwards but the term ‘illuminated’ does not only apply to manuscripts where gold or silver is used. It applies more broadly to any manuscript that is more elaborately decorated than with simple coloured initials.

From the early writings of Saint Jerome (who died c.420) to around 1100, the vast majority of manuscripts were produced in the scriptoria or cloisters of abbeys and monasteries. They were primarily theological, liturgical and academic works.

The Lindisfarne Gospels- 8th Century
Written & illustrated probably by Eadfrith, bishop of Lindisfarne.

Prior to the time of Saint Jerome, manuscripts (such as those produced in Rome) were in scroll format and made of papyrus. The use of papyrus is problematic in that, as a material, it is more likely to break, especially if it is handled frequently. Early medieval scribes moved to the use of prepared animal skin, the material that we refer to as parchment or vellum. The format also underwent a significant change to that of the book or codex, with separate pages that can be turned, read in sequence and much more easily navigated by a reader.

Initial from the Howard Psalter & Hours- England,1310 -1320.
Clerics sing from a scroll, which contains musical notation. 

The codex didn’t only make life easier for readers. It also improved the lot of those who wrote and illustrated the manuscripts—our medieval scribes. It is much easier to write on the flat, stable surface of a page than on a lengthy, unrolled scroll. But it’s probably fair to say the ‘easier’ is a relative term. Even the preparation was laborious and demanded perfection. Producing fine vellum involved the soaking in lime and skilled, meticulous scraping and stretching of expensive calfskin. Inks such as oak gall and lampblack had to be produced. Guide lines had to be ruled with absolute precision.

Book of Hours- Oxford, 1240, written in & illuminated by William de Brailes.
It is the earliest surviving English Book of Hours.

Note that such precision also had to be achieved using a feather quill pen. Quill pens were introduced around the sixth century and replaced the reed pen. They were most commonly made from the flight feathers of geese but could also be made from swan, duck, crow, or even pelicans and peacocks. Most of the feather was removed and the end sharpened and slit so it could be filled with ink.  The sharpening of the nib was done at different angles, which would make pen strokes of differing thickness. Such careful nib-work didn’t last long. A scribe would have to trim it frequently with a quill-cutter to keep its sharpness.

A seated scribe from the Life of St Dunstan.
Canterbury- late 11th/early 12th Century

All that before the most challenging and skilled task of all: the writing and illustrating of the text. One can only deeply admire the concentration, dedication and sheer physical toll it must have taken, with scribes having no reading glasses, no electric light and no modern heating through freezing and damp winters.

The fruits of their labours, that are the decorations on medieval illuminated manuscripts, are of three main types. First, larger illustrations that can take up a whole page and /or miniatures or small pictures incorporated into the text. These usually illustrate or complement the content of the text.

A map of the whole known world from Ranulf Higden’s Polychronicon.
England, last quarter of the 14th century.

The second type are initial letters that contain scenes (known as historiated initials) or that have elaborate decoration. Again, these usually illustrate or complement the content of the text.

Historiated initial 'D'(omine) with a crowned Virgin and Child.
English Book of Hours, 1st quarter of the 15th century.

Third, we have borders and line-endings, which may have many detailed images/miniatures in them. These often do not relate directly to the text and can contain unusual figures.

Marginal illustration from the Gorleston Psalter- Norfolk, early 14th century.
How much do we love the medieval duck? 

And while the illuminations could serve to illustrate or to decorate, they also provided aids for contemplation and meditation for those reading them as part of their daily prayer and devotion. On another (very practical) level, the illustrations were useful markers for less literate readers to be able to navigate a lengthy manuscript. One does not have to be able to read to identify a picture of the Virgin Mary or one of the story of Adam and Eve.

Four scenes from the Book of Genesis, with three of Adam & Eve.
The Huth Psalter, England, late 13th century.

Although so many wonderful works were produced by men (and women) of the church, by 1100 this situation began to change. The production of manuscripts was no longer the preserve of the church, and secular scribes and illustrators rose in importance. This was in part due to the expansion of the content of manuscripts. Romances, chronicles, medical and other texts and aristocratic family trees all began to be produced. The rise of the universities and the increase in book ownership by the wealthy saw a thriving secular book trade in Paris and Bologna by the 13th century.

Guinevere questioning Lancelot about his love for her.
Lancelot du Lac, France, c.1316.

It was another university city, the city of Cologne, that was to trigger the start of the demise of the manuscript. By the 1470s Cologne had become the most important centre of printing in north-west Germany and where a certain William Caxton was perfecting his own particular art. Handwritten texts were being replaced by the printed version.

From the Arnstein Bible, a large two-volume MS, Germany c. 1172.
It was written by a single scribe, a monk named Lunandus.

But it was English Reformation that was to see the wanton destruction of the illuminated manuscript. Henry VIII decreed that the 'images and pictures' of Saint Thomas Becket shall 'through the whole realm be put down and avoided out of all churches, chapels, and other places.’ The Act against Superstitious Books and Images (1550) ordered that prayer and service books that did not comply with the reformed liturgy should be destroyed. The religious communities did their best to keep their handwritten treasures safe. Books were smuggled out of religious houses and hidden in sympathetic homes. But not all could be saved. Priceless manuscripts were torn up, burned, used to clean candlesticks, clean boots, stop up beer barrels and even deployed in the privies.

The martyrdom of Thomas Becket from the Harley collection-
a rare survival in an English context.
Netherlands, 3rd quarter of the 15th century.
           

Yet despite all of this appalling vandalism, medieval manuscripts have preserved for posterity the lion’s share of medieval painting. As Beal so beautifully puts it: ‘Books have a knack of surviving.’ It is our great good fortune that they do.

Detail of marginal images of apes with books.
France, 1318-1330.

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References:
All images are in the Public Domain and are part of the British Library's Catalogue of Illuminated Manuscripts. (This online resource is truly a treasure trove and I cannot recommend it highly enough.)
Beal, Peter, A Dictionary of English Manuscript Terminology 1450–2000: Oxford University Press, Current Online Version. (2011)
Brigstocke, Hugh, The Oxford Companion to Western Art: Oxford University Press, Current Online Version (2003)
Chilvers, Ian, The Oxford Dictionary of Art and Artists (4 ed.): Oxford University Press, Current Online Version (2014)
De Hamel, Christopher, A History of Illuminated Manuscripts (2nd ed.), London: Phaidon Press Ltd. (1994).
Kerr, Julie: Life in the Medieval Cloister, London, Continuum Publishing (2009)
Whittock, Martyn, A Brief History of Life in the Middle Ages: London, Constable & Robinson (2009)

I first wrote this post for the English Historical Fiction Authors Blog, where it was published on May 21 2016.

Medieval Mythical Creatures

No matter how ardent a fan of natural history documentaries you might be, you may struggle to identify the creature on the right portrayed in this medieval manuscript.

Yes, it's the serra, defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as 'a fabulous marine monster.' The entry in the 1527 Noble Lyfe Bestes describes it thus: 'Serra is a fysshe with great tethe and on his backe he hathe sharpe fynnes lyke the combe of a cocke and iagged lyke a sawe.' While I think the serra is indeed quite marvellous, the OED means 'fabulous' in the sense of 'celebrated in fictitious tales.' But the medievals loved a fabulous creature and we find many examples of them in manuscripts and texts. I'd like to share a few personal favourites.

Dragon

I doubt if anyone would struggle to describe a dragon: a mythical monster like a giant reptile, winged and breathing fire. Even today the national emblem of Wales is Y Ddraig Goch, The Red Dragon. This of course is a different type of dragon to the gwiber (viper). Celtic dragons were said to live at the bottom of deep lakes or guard trees and represent elemental power, often that of the earth. But with the spread of Christianity, the dragon came to represent paganism. For the medievals, the dragon was a symbol of demonic power or the sin of pride.

It features again and again as the vanquished opponent of the hero knight: Lancelot, Tristan and Gawain all fought and defeated dragons. Yvain rescued a lion from one. Dragons, sea serpents and giant worms appear on medieval maps, with the creatures representing wilderness and the unknown. Twelfth century chronicler Gerald of Wales viewed Ireland as a wild and inhospitable place but he reported in his Topography of that country, 'There are no dragons,' presumably good news to all.

It wasn't only knights who battled dragons during the medieval period. We can find over one hundred saints who had skirmishes with dragons or monstrous serpents. These include Saints Margaret of Antioch, Martha, Sylvester, Gregory and Armel. Most famously is England's Saint George. George may have been a soldier who achieved martyrdom in fourth century Palestine and had a modest reputation in the centuries that followed.

But it was a medieval bestseller that brought him huge popularity. The Legenda Aurea (The Golden Legend) was a collection of saints' lives compiled by James of Voragine and completed by 1265. In it, George excitingly saves a king's daughter who is about to be eaten by a dragon. George spears the beast, secures it with the princess's girdle and leads it before a huge city crowd where he beheads it. Everyone who sees it promptly becomes a Christian. Many miracles were attributed to him throughout the medieval period (usually the victory in battle kind) and by the end of the Middle Ages he was regarded as the patron saint of England.

Unicorn

According to medieval bestiaries, the unicorn was the wildest of all beasts and it was swift and fierce. The only way to capture it was for a virgin to stay close, whereupon the unicorn would lay its head in her lap, and so be able to be caught. The animal came to represent power and purity and the links to Christ and the Virgin resonated with the medievals. Wealthy collectors coveted unicorn horn as it was believed to have magical and medicinal powers, specifically against poison and convulsions.

Whatever these collectors believed they had paid for it certainly wasn't unicorn horn. No-one of course had actually seen one, although received wisdom was that the unicorn inhabited the Far East and India. One can only imagine the excitement when Marco Polo finally encountered one (several, in fact) in Java in the thirteenth century. Trouble was, the unicorn was actually a rhinoceros. We can hear Marco's disappointment at his discovery in his account of his travels: 'They delight in living in mire and in the mud. It is a hideous beast to look at. ' Most disappointingly of all: 'In no way like what we think and say in our counties, namely a beast that lets itself be taken into the lap of a virgin.' One can only concur: no-one, virgin or not, would want to give thigh room to a rhino.

Giants

The 1440 manuscript Sir Eglam has the appealing line: 'Ther dwellyth a yeaunt in a foreste.' A 'yeaunt' is of course a giant and many appear in medieval romances. We have another medieval bestseller to thank for their popularity. Geoffrey of Monmouth, Bishop of St Asaph in Wales,  produced his Historia Regum Britanniae (‘The History of the Kings of Britain’) in around 1136.

In this work, King Arthur fights and slays giants. One of Arthur's quests is to seek the beard of one to make a leash for his dog. Geoffrey also says that Corineus, first human ruler of Cornwall, chose it because wrestling against giants was his favourite sport and Cornwall had lots of them. Gerald of Wales mentions giants bringing enormous stones to Ireland 'in ancient times.'

Representations of giants were also a popular feature of medieval pageants and processions. several major cities have records of their use. The figures were made from wood, wicker-work, and a coarse linen stiffened with paste. Many were brightly painted and were dressed in elaborate clothing. 1495 Chester had a family of them: giant, giantess, and two daughters.

Astonishingly, one processional giant still survives in England. The twelve foot high Salisbury Giant is around five hundred years old. He is sometimes called Saint Christopher, as were other processional giants. Christopher was a fourth century martyr that had become the patron saint of travellers by the Middle Ages. Many English churches had wall paintings and windows depicting Christopher, usually facing the main entrance, as it was said that anyone who saw an image of him would not die that day. Saint Christopher medals were already known to the medievals- one of Chaucer's pilgrims, the Yeoman, has one made of silver.

Mermaid

In early use, the mermaid is often identified with the siren of classical mythology. Recorded from Middle English, the word comes from mere with the obsolete sense ‘sea’  and 'maid'. The 1366 Romaunt Rose observes: 'Though we mermaydens clepe hem here,..Men clepen hem sereyns in Fraunce.' (Note: that sentence is in Middle English. But you don't need a translation. Read it aloud just as it is written and it makes sense. It is also great fun to do.)

Medieval mermaids are, unsurprisingly, a sinful creature. They are specifically accused of inspiring lust and sinful desire. Heresy is another of their fishy evils. 'Syrens' pop up in Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia and we are assured that many swim around the seas surrounding the British Isles.

Mandrake

This very last mythical creature is my absolute favourite: The Shrieking Vegetable. Yes, it's the mandrake. The mandrake is a plant, the roots of which look (vaguely) like a human being planted upside-down. The medievals credited it with magical and medicinal properties and popular wisdom was that it would shriek when pulled from the ground. Those who dared to pick it would die as a result of their harvest.

Quick medieval thinking passed this fate onto a dog. Dog would be tied to mandrake, dog would be urged away from mandrake. Dog would pull it from the ground, so dog would die. Relief all round. In case you're wondering, that pale little chap in the picture above is a mandrake. People: if you see him amongst the carrots in your local supermarket, leave him alone. You have been warned.
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References:
All images are in the Public Domain and are part of the British Library's Catalogue of Illuminated Manuscripts. 
Dear, I. C. B. & Kemp, Peter, eds: The Oxford Companion to Ships and the Sea (2 ed.) (Oxford University Press 2006 Current Online Version: 2007)
Kieckhefer, Richard: Magic in the Middle Ages, Cambridge University Press (2000)
Knowles, Elizabeth, ed.: The Oxford Dictionary of Phrase and Fable (2 ed.) Publisher: Oxford University Press (2005, Current Online Version: 2014)
Lindahl, C., McNamara, J & Lindow, J. (eds.): Medieval Folklore, Oxford University Press (2002)

Livingston, E.A.,ed.:The Concise Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church (2 rev.ed.), Oxford University Press (2006, Current Online Version: 2013)

MacKillop, James: A Dictionary of Celtic Mythology , Oxford University Press (2004, Current Online Version: 2004)

Resl, Brigitte, ed., A Cultural History of Animals in the Medieval Age. Oxford: Berg (2007)

Simpson, Jacqueline & Roud, Steve: A Dictionary of English Folklore, Oxford University Press (2003, Current Online Version: 2003)

Note: I first wrote this post (or an edited version of it) for the English Historical Fiction Authors blog. It first appeared there on December 15 2015. 

Medievals and Their Dogs

If I were to ask you to name a twelfth-century figure who was known to be afraid of dogs, you are unlikely to come up with Genghis Khan. Yes, he of the Mongol hordes infamy and conqueror of twelve million square miles had a fear of our four-legged friends. But before we pour too much scorn on the mighty conqueror's head, it's worth reminding ourselves of the animals which he feared. Mongol dogs were a type of large mastiff, know for their savagery. Travellers reported that the dogs could leap at a man even if he sat on the back of a horse or a camel, and described them as 'bony brutes...loud-voiced and vicious.' Perhaps, then, Genghis was more realist than coward.

Mastiff-type dogs were one just one breed of dog favoured by the medievals. Alaunts were the largest and heaviest of these, guarding the houses and flocks of their owners. Their size, weight and powerful jaws made them a popular choice as attack dogs in the brutal pastimes of bear-baiting and bull-baiting. They could also be used for hunting.

Hunting with hounds played a major role in the life of the medieval nobility. Stags and harts became the preferred quarry. Some packs of hounds stayed on a huntsman's leash; others ran free alongside their mounted masters. Dog packs could range from around twelve animals to up to fifty. In the 1360s, Edward III spent the exorbitant sum of £80 on his pack of seventy dogs and the huntsmen that looked after and worked the animals. Henry of Lancaster paid a goldsmith to make a silver chain for one of his dogs.

The fourteenth century Sir Gawain and the Green Knight contains scenes of hunting dogs in action. The unknown poet tells us 'Such a clamour arose from the assembled hounds, that the rocks around rang with the noise.' The dogs bring down deer, but meet their match when they disturb a wild boar: 'Full oft he stands at bay, And maims the pack on all sides. He hurts the hounds and they, Full piteously howl and yell.'

The Gawain poet also shows his appreciation of one particular breed: 'And the greyhounds so great, Could pull down prey in the blink of an eye.' The greyhound had a peerless reputation among the medievals for its speed and for taking down quarry. I doubt if these qualities of the breed would surprise many people. But the greyhound who was also a saint perhaps will.

On a visit to thirteenth-century Lyon, the cleric Stephen de Bourbon discovered to his horror that the Saint Guinefort revered by so many was, in fact, a greyhound. In life, the dog was alleged to have saved the baby of its master from a snake. The master had not realised, believing the bloody-jawed dog to have killed the infant and so slew the dog. He realised his mistake, and the dog's loyalty, when he found the dead snake. He erected a shrine to Guinefort, which grew in popularity. Local women carried out rituals at the site of the dog's death, praying for their sickly children.

Numerous examples exist from medieval times of people attributing deep loyalty to dogs. Gerald of Wales praised canine faithfulness. People believed that dogs would never desert their masters, would die for them or would hunt down their master's murderer if necessary. Such attribution even found its way into heraldry. John of Guildford's  fourteenth century Tractatus de armis has the heraldic symbol for a dog representing a loyal man who would never desert his master and who would lay down his life for him.

One could say that all of the above relationships with dogs are of their time. But there are many instances of people enjoying dogs exactly as we do today. People loved to see performing dogs. There's a twelfth-century account of a dog imitating actions on command. Dancing dogs, their owners accompanying them on drums and whistles, proved a huge draw at fairs and feast days. A tenth-century Scandinavian king employed an entertainer with a dog to make him laugh.

People kept dogs as pets, too. Many people favoured smaller breeds. The members of religious houses frequently kept dogs as pets. Chaucer's fictional Prioress in The Canterbury Tales has small dogs, '...which she fed, With roasted meat, and milk, and wastel bread.' 

And, all those centuries ago, people loved their dogs too. The very real twelfth-century Bernard of Clairvaux is credited with the popular phrase: 'Qui me amat, amet et canem meum. Who loves me will love my dog also.' or, more succinctly, 'Love me, love my dog.' But my personal favourite is from John of Salisbury's 1159  Policraticus. He simply says: 'Having a dog at your heel is most comforting.' Quite.

References:
All images are in the Public Domain and are part of the British Library's Catalogue of Illuminated Manuscripts. 
Cawley, A.C. ed. Pearl, Cleanness, Patience, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. London: J.M. Dent & Sons Ltd. (1976)
McLynn, Frank. Genghis Khan: The Man who Conquered the World. London: The Bodley Head. (2015)
Mortimer, Ian. The Time Traveller's Guide to Medieval England. London: The Bodley Head. (2008)
Resl, Brigitte, ed., A Cultural History of Animals in the Medieval Age. Oxford: Berg (2007)

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I wrote this post for the English Historical Fiction Authors blog. It was first published there in October 2015. 

Polygamy, Divorce & More: The Unusual Marriage Customs of Medieval Ireland

If one is asked to think of a country that historically had liberal marriage laws one doesn’t immediately think of Ireland. Yes, Irish voters decisively voted in favour of marriage equality in May 2015, making Ireland the first country to do so through the ballot box. But Ireland is also the country that did not make divorce legal until 1997, a country in which one of the members of its Dáil (Parliament) bemoaned famously in the 1960s that “There was no sex in Ireland before television.”

Yet if we rewind back well over a thousand years, we find things were very different. Ireland’s legal system consisted of two types of law: canon (church) law, and the secular brehon law. Secular law tracts on marriage were written around 700 A.D. Cáin Lánamna, ‘The Law of Couples’, describes the many types of union in marriage permitted. There is permanent, semi-permanent and transitory.

Another text categorizes married women into five classes. Three classes are those women who legitimately form formal unions. The other two are more open and include the marriage of wandering mercenaries. And it was permissible not to stop at just one wife. Though it’s debatable whether one should describe such unions as polygamy or a type of constantly shifting monogamy, the practice of concubinage, or subsidiary marriage, was also tolerated. The law also gave inheritance rights to the children of these unions.

But The Law of Couples doesn’t just address the joining of man and wife: it also addresses how they can be put asunder. Yes, the early Irish had a detailed law for divorce. While it allowed men a long list of reasons, it also gave women fourteen grounds for divorce. These could include wife-beating, failure of maintenance and homosexuality. Early Irish women could not be said to be emancipated, but they certainly fared better in marital law than their European counterparts.

In many respects, marriage practices in Ireland in 700 AD may not have been so different for the rest of Europe. But as canon law developed over the centuries, shaping marriage into its more rigid arrangements, Ireland held on to its own practices under secular law. These were increasingly frowned upon. In 1074, Archbihsop Lanfranc of Canterbury wrote to the Irish kings, describing the marital unions in Ireland a as “abominable exchanges.” Even Bernard of Clairvaux chimed in. In his Life of Saint Malachy, he describes Malachy being sent “not to men but to beasts.”

By the 12^th century, the Irish church embarked upon a huge programme of reform, reform which had the behaviour of the Irish people firmly in its sights. One: it wanted to address the high levels of killing and violence in Ireland. Two: Irish marriage practices had to be addressed.

There were three aspects that the Synod of Cashel tried to tackle in 1101. Consanguinity, or prohibited marriages due to kinship, was one. Some of the pronouncements seem a little excessive: “No man in Ireland shall have to wife his grandfather’s wife.” It’s difficult to imagine when this particular situation would arise. But the complexities around consanguinity meant that many Irish marriages were now deemed to be incestuous.  The church was equally unhappy with divorce and remarriage, and of course subsidiary marriages. Yet the practices continued.

As the twelfth century progressed, Irish marriage practices came under renewed fire from external sources. Gerald of Wales, chronicler of England’s Henry II, wrote that “[The Irish] are a filthy people, wallowing in vice….they do not contract marriages. They do not avoid incest.”

Pope Alexander wrote to Henry II in 1172, advising that the Irish married their stepmothers, were not ashamed to have children with them and that a man might live in concubinage with two sisters. The different practices in Ireland had ceased to be merely different and now were viewed as barbarous.

Henry II’s invasion of Ireland was in part sanctioned by the Pope so that the moral and sexual laxity of the Irish could be dealt with. The Irish church in turn welcomed his support. It was a move that was to have the most far-reaching and tragic implications in the history of Ireland, a history that could be said to have been shaped by its customs. 

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All photos in post © E.M. Powell 2015

This post was originally written for the English Historical Fiction Authors Customs blog hop.

The Rock of Cashel: Marvel from Medieval Ireland

There are historical sites that are interesting. There are historical sites that are spectacular. And then there are historical sites that are an icon of the country in which they are located. It is in to the latter category that the Rock of Cashel in Co. Tipperary in the Republic of Ireland falls.

The Rock of Cashel

I've gone back to the land of my birth for my latest medieval thriller, The Lord of Ireland. I visited on a research trip in April 2015 (a hard job, but someone's got to do it!) which is when the photos in this post were taken. You might be surprised to see scaffolding on here. No, it isn't a medieval building project that has seriously overrun- I shall explain later.

The Rock of Cashel is also known as Saint Patrick's Rock.  The rock itself is an impressive prominent hill of karst limestone. This being Ireland, there is of course a far more imaginative description of what the rock is. Legend has it that the Devil took a bite out of the mountain opposite, and then dropped the rock from his jaws onto the plain. That's a lot more exciting then geology, but perhaps not quite as reliable.

Devil's Bit

Given the commanding position of the Rock, it is hardly surprising that the over-kings of Munster adopted it as their seat of power for hundreds of years. It is here that Saint Patrick is alleged to have converted the King of Munster, Aenghus, to Christianity in the 5th century AD. There is of course no proof of this. We do have a law tract from around 700 A.D. which refers to the King of Cashel controlling other Munster kings.

It was a king of Munster, Muirchertach Ua Briain, who gifted the Rock to the church in 1101. No buildings survive from the reign of the kings. The magnificent buildings that still stand are ecclesiastical and were constructed in the medieval period.

The Round Tower

The Round Tower is an architectural design that is unique to Ireland. The tower on the Rock is its oldest building. Originally a bell tower, it dates from around 1100.

Exterior of Cormac's Chapel

Next oldest is Cormac’s Chapel, built by a King of Desmond (part of Munster) and consecrated in 1134. It is the first example of Romanesque architecture in Ireland. It is Cormac's Chapel that is currently shrouded in scaffolding. Its stone roof has had to endure almost 900 years of Irish rain (and that's a lot of rain), and an urgent conservation project is under way. Basically, it's being dried out and I was told that's likely to be a seven year job in total.

Interior of Cormac's Chapel

Fortunately, you can still enter the Chapel with a guide. It is stunningly beautiful. Carved stone faces look down from the ceilings and the remains of brightly-painted frescoes which would have made the interior glow with colour can still be seen.

Ceiling of Cormac's Chapel

The twelfth century saw radical reform of the church in Ireland and the Synods (ecclesiastical councils) were held at Cashel. The first Synod in 1101 attempted to address marriage practices of the native Irish, which were deemed to be immoral. The second Synod of Cashel was held in 1171/72, under the auspices of Henry II and with the full backing of the Pope.

Carved Stone Sarcophagus

Henry had already added Ireland to his dominions. In 1171, he came in person (the first king of England to ever come to Ireland) and he stayed at Cashel for part of his visit. The Synod passed legislation to do with marriage, the payment of tithes, freed the church from lay control and introduced clerical privilege. In short, the Irish church was to operate in exactly the same way as the Church in England. The Irish Church, in existence for 700 years since the time of Saint Patrick, was ended on the very rock that bears his name.

The cathedral was built in the thirteenth century and added to over the centuries. Some sources claim that a cathedral was built here in 1169, and then replaced.

Exterior of Cathedral's South Transept

The Hall of the Vicars Choral was added by an archbishop in the fifteenth century. The Vicars Choral were a group of men appointed to sing during cathedral services and consisted of a mix of clergy and laity. Their quarters have been impressively restored.

The Hall of the Vicars Choral- Interior

The Rock of Cashel is of course deservedly one of the most visited sites on the Republic of Ireland, attracting around a quarter of a million visitors a year. One of those visitor's signatures is on display.

Elizabeth R

Yes, it's the signature of Queen Elizabeth II. Her State Visit to Ireland was the first made by a British monarch since the founding of the State in 1922. Her visit was a hugely important step in further reconciling the troubled history between the two countries. How apt that her visit included Cashel, the ancient seat of the Irish kings.

Celtic Cross at Cashel

Purchase The Lord of Ireland on Amazon. 

References:
All photos are copyright E.M. Powell 2015.
Duffy, Seán, Ireland in the Middle Ages: Palgrave/Macmillan (1997)
Flanagan, Marie Therese, The Transformation of the Irish Church in the Twelfth Century, Boydell Press (2010)
Manning, Conleth, Rock of Cashel, OPW- The Office of Public Works/Oifig na nOibreacha
Ó Cróinín, Dáibhí, Early Medieval Ireland: 400-1200, Longman (1995)
O'Keefe, Tadhg, Medieval Ireland: An Archaeology, Tempus Publishing Ltd. (2000)
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Note: I originally posted a version of this article on English Historical Fiction Authors on June 15th 2015.