Posts Tagged ‘Medieval Life’

7
Mar

MEDIEVAL LIFE – Part 2

   Posted by: Barbara Gaskell Denvil    in Medieval Miscellany

Barbara Gaskell Denvil was born in England, grew up amongst artists and authors and started writing at a young age. She published numerous short stories and articles, and worked as an editor, book critic and reader for publishers and television companies. About 10 years ago she began writing medieval novels (mystery, romance, murder-adventure) set principally in 15th century England.

Her first medieval novel Satin Cinnabar is a historical crime adventure set in London during the last months of 1485 in the aftermath of the Battle of Bosworth.  It is available for Amazon Kindle and all other ebook readers (Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Sony, ipad etc..)

Her new novel Sumerford’s Autumn is also set during the last years of the 15th century and will make major reference to the fate of both King Edward IV’s sons.  It will be published for Kindle later this month or early in April.

Barbara also writes fantasy, though this tends to be more dark and adult.  Her fantasy novel Fair Weather is set in medieval England around the early 1200s. There’s a fair chunk of historical content, but the basic plot is pure fantasy.  It is also available for Amazon Kindle and from Smashwords in other formats.

Barbara’s novels are gripping and engrossing stories, real page turners, involving believable characters to carry the story along, while maintaining a high level of historical accuracy.

After reading Satin Cinnabar, we asked Barbara to tell us more about the medieval world she describes so masterfully in the novel.  This is the second part of her article “Medieval Life”, part 1 was on this site yesterday and part 3 will follow tomorrow. Thank you, Barbara, for sharing this with us.

Don’t forget to visit Barbara’s blog.

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From smells to noise – and here the past was more friendly.

No screech of traffic, no thunder of passing trains, no whine of planes overhead, or the vibrating attack of pneumatic drills, bulldozers or cranes.

Medieval noise was cosy people sized stuff. Church bells, the scuffle of birds and rats, the beat of the wherryman’s oars through the river waters, wind in the trees, the calls from the market stalls, Horses’ hooves, gossip, rumour, an occasional hue and cry, and the hourly reassurance of the Watch.

Friendly bustle then, as long as you lifted your skirts and avoided the gutters, the pigs and the dogs.

Best avoid the rivers too, unless you knew what you were doing and owned a boat. Banks were not always solid barriers back then, so rivers overflowed and flooded more easily and there were far fewer bridges to aid escape. Over the Thames, for instance, where now nearly two dozen bridges span the waters, there used to be just one. I am often amazed at how many people believe that Tower Bridge is an ancient crossing. In fact it is Victorian. The only bridge in the 15th century was a stone masterpiece, its construction probably completed during the first years of the 13th century. Those nineteen pillars and twenty arches rose from the river bed and supported a solid walkway lined with houses, shops and businesses, many four or five storeys high and jutting out over the water. There was the chapel of Thomas Beckett, a portcullis, and at the southern end the sight of traitors’ heads tarred to preserve them from scavengers and stuck on poles above the gate to deter others.

Indeed, this bridge could become appallingly over crowded, and many people used the boats instead for crossing the river from London to Southwark.

The southern end of this bridge constituted one of the 8 entrances into the city of London, for it, and many other English cities, were protected by great stone walls (sometimes dating back to Roman times) and their gateways were locked each night. Travellers neither entered nor left during the night hours, and who entered at other times could be monitored at least to some extent.

The lack of light must have been one of the principal handicaps of everyday life. Anyone who knows the English climate knows that days of blazing sunshine are not that common, and besides even when the sun shone it did not always enter indoors. Streets were invariably extremely narrow and buildings could be several storeys tall, therefore enclosing most houses in shadow. Windows tended to be very small and the glass, when it could be afforded at all, was thick. The average household used polished horn instead of expensive glass, but this was only translucent rather than actually transparent. Poorer families made do with oiled parchment, or nothing at all. Of course no one expected the brilliance of electric light which we now demand, so no doubt medieval eyes adjusted, but the shadowed gloom must have been difficult to live with. Spectacles existed, came from Venice, were costly, and comprised simple magnification, so there was little escape from peering over your work with your nose to your tools.

Candles were either beeswax – expensive again – or mutton tallow – which stank, smoked and guttered easily. An average household might eat their supper by candlelight, (dinner was taken at midday or earlier) but opening hours, curfews and working routines were frequently (though not always) governed by the seasonal allotment of daylight. It’s getting dark? Well, if you can’t afford candles, then go to bed. Open fires were, however, the normal method of heating and cooking, and these offered more light than any candle, just as long as you could collect, or afford, the firewood.

Nowadays we tend to think of candlelight as perfumed romanticism. That was certainly not the experience of the medieval housewife trying to do her needlework after a long day at the brewery.

It is often supposed that every ordinary citizen in the medieval era was virtually ruled by the doctrines of the church. Indeed, orthodox religion was taken far more seriously then than it often is today and regular church attendance was normal – daily devotion for some, daily prayers for most. Christian orthodoxy controlled many aspects of ordinary life – no meat eaten on Fridays and many other days of religious significance for instance – but even here the people found some interesting escapes. Pleading ill health exonerated you from such severe dieting, and quite a few creatures which we would certainly classify as meat, were conveniently classified as fish back then. Beaver, for instance, duck and water birds.

Nor was the power of the church always as unquestioningly accepted as is now supposed. Since few working folk had the luxury of a private garden, they frequently kept their bulky tools and stored their firewood in the local churchyard. The church complained regularly and laws were brought in – to no avail as usual. What is more, greedy priests and monks abusing their vows and authority, or those whose behaviour was considered flagrantly immoral – not entirely uncommon – could be dragged off by the local people and locked in the stocks, thrown in the river, or generally humiliated. A boring preacher would sometimes be ignored while his congregation chattered amongst themselves, or wandered off entirely. Some churches including St. Paul’s Cathedral in London were often frequented by vendors selling from trays around their necks, beggars slumped against the walls, lawyers touting for trade, and passing shoppers sheltering from inclement weather. The priest trying to conduct a service simply had to ignore the general noise while hoping someone was listening to him. Although the message of the Lord was treated with enormous respect, the Lord’s messengers were only respected when they deserved it. The Bible, being available exclusively in Latin, was not understood by all and although blasphemy was punishable, adultery and fornication outside marriage were considered terrible sins with purgatory or even hellfire the promised penalty for the wicked, in fact the general population cheerfully blasphemed, fornicated and behaved just as wickedly as usual, hoping to escape hellfire by repenting their sins on Sundays and finally on their deathbeds.

They danced on Sundays, they played football through the graveyards and they complained bitterly about any attempts to limit their amusements. And after all, the medieval church did not embrace the puritan strictures of much later times. The Bishop of Winchester, for instance, benefited considerably from the rents of numerous taverns and brothels within his jurisdiction of Southwark.

Travel was slow and exceedingly difficult especially in bad weather. Roads were often unpassable, usually unpaved, thick with ruts and holes, and frequently left in bad repair. Rivers flooded, bridges were few and far between, road signs (stone markers) were mossy and grown over and without any maps it was hard to find the correct route. Maps in those days – if you were lucky enough to find one at all – were simply lists of the townships you should try to reach one after the other, thereby assuring a generally accurate direction leading to where you hoped eventually to arrive. Many travelled in consort or hired guards with a knowledge of the local countryside. Robbers and gangs were a constant danger along isolated roadways, and finding a place to stay overnight and stable your horse was not always that easy either. Inns and hostelries certainly existed, but there was no map telling where to find one, and when you did find one, it was apt to be overcrowded. You expected to share one large bed with several other travellers (of the same sex) whether they snored or no.

Therefore news of what had happened in one part of the country could take a very long time to reach the rest of the population, and the accuracy of that news once it arrived was certainly not guaranteed. Salacious rumour was rife, confusion even more so. With no newspapers in existence, the pulpit was one way of receiving important announcements, but there was no method of knowing whether you heard the actual truth, or simply what someone wanted you to believe. Propaganda had most certainly already been invented. This has made it increasingly difficult to discover what really occurred in the past, for even when rare documentation exists, it cannot always be entirely trusted.

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6
Mar

MEDIEVAL LIFE – Part 1

   Posted by: Barbara Gaskell Denvil    in Medieval Miscellany

Barbara Gaskell Denvil was born in England, grew up amongst artists and authors and started writing at a young age. She published numerous short stories and articles, and worked as an editor, book critic and reader for publishers and television companies. About 10 years ago she began writing medieval novels (mystery, romance, murder-adventure) set principally in 15th century England.

Her first medieval novel Satin Cinnabar is a historical crime adventure set in London during the last months of 1485 in the aftermath of the Battle of Bosworth.  It is available for Amazon Kindle and all other ebook readers (Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Sony, ipad etc..)

Her new novel Sumerford’s Autumn is also set during the last years of the 15th century and will make major reference to the fate of both King Edward IV’s sons.  It will be published for Kindle later this month or early in April.

Barbara also writes fantasy, though this tends to be more dark and adult.  Her fantasy novel Fair Weather is set in medieval England around the early 1200s. There’s a fair chunk of historical content, but the basic plot is pure fantasy.  It is also available for Amazon Kindle and from Smashwords in other formats.

Barbara’s novels are gripping and engrossing stories, real page turners, involving believable characters to carry the story along, while maintaining a high level of historical accuracy.

After reading Satin Cinnabar, we asked Barbara to tell us more about the medieval world she describes so masterfully in the novel.  This is the first part of her article “Medieval Life”, parts 2 and 3 will follow in the coming days.  Thank you, Barbara, for sharing this with us.

Don’t forget to visit Barbara’s blog.

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Baker’s apprentice? Cloistered priest? Wherryman or corvisor? Maidservant, brewster or laundry maid? Kennel boy or under-groom? Chandler or rakyer? Tanner, cooper or dyer’s assistant?

History, at least beyond the strictures of the schoolroom, holds a growing fascination for so many of us these days. Those gloriously ample arms, clothed in the luscious velvets of the past, reach out to embrace us and draw us back into the fascination of times long gone. There, in those cobbled alleyways wait mysteries and puzzles, horrors far more spine chilling than the simple enticing lurch of a modern roller coaster, and a whole catalogue of kings, queens, courtesans and wicked courtiers. Heroes and villains all – and what we find even more intriguing is that sometimes we cannot tell the difference nor be quite sure who was the hero – who the villain.

Indeed, many modern works of historical fiction are loosely based biographies, and these are invariably concerned with those great characters we have already heard about – the rich and famous – the royal and noble – the tyrants and the victims. But what of the rest? What of those teeming slums? The ordinary folk? The children, the housewives, the working men?

We authors of historical fiction usually feel obliged to research our chosen era to some extent and often in considerable detail, though some horrendous mistakes pop up even in the popular best sellers (after all, Shakespeare got away with it, but there are few of us who would dare compare ourselves to him!) but thankfully we are gradually moving away from the real myths and blunders of recent ignorance. Few of us now believe in the chastity belt, the Droite du Roi (in spite of Gibson’s Braveheart), the wholesale burning of witches in medieval England, or the knight in shining armour. (Sadly some of us still believe in the sins of the dastardly King Richard III – but that’s another story!)

So we have discarded the more obvious myths concerning medieval life, but many of us have no clear method of touching the everyday truths. Caught up in the deeds of kings, we do not understand the business of the ordinary man. Documentation is scarce, but thankfully enough survives and imagination does not need to stretch too far!

For a start the English weather, as always, played a part in medieval affairs. Storms wrecked Henry VII’s first attempt at an invasion whereas the Battle of Bosworth was fought on a glorious morning of bright August sunshine where the Tudor leaders used the direction of the sun to blind their adversaries’ aim. For hundreds of years the weather had been rather warmer than we are now accustomed to, encouraging the gutters and piles of manure to steam in the afternoon heat. But by the late 15th century the temperatures were cooling, and over the next two hundred years the winters turned fierce and the Little Ice Age was ushered in.

In the so called Middle Ages, human as well as animal manure was still used on the crops, though sometimes this was reasonably aged into a nice smelly slush. But the cities did not escape from these aromatic pleasures since human waste had only two methods of disposal. Firstly by the simple means of the chamber pot emptied from the door or window each morning, and secondly by the more subtle means of the medieval sewerage system. But nothing was that simple. The gutters usually consisted of a shallow central gulley running through the street; not the type of gutter which we recognise now – there were, after all, no pavements. Other refuse also collected in these gutters: chicken heads, sheep stomachs and all the bloody waste from the butchers’ stalls, rotten vegetables, and anything else discarded from the average household. Rain invariably washed out the gulleys, sluicing them down to the low ground where everything piled up for later disposal. There were, however, laws against the worst of these abuses, but they were frequently overlooked. There were also the rakers (or raykers) who were employed to rake up this noxious matter, and remove it – usually directly into the local river, stream or nearby lake. And the river, stream or lake was, of course, the only available water supply for most citizens. There were water carriers who would deliver to your door, and conduits and pumps – but even most of that came from whatever river was closest. No wonder folk drank beer instead.

The actual sewerage system consisted of septic tanks dug into the ground in convenient places. A large household contained at least one privy, being a hole (often in the middle of a wooden seat) and these emptied directly into the septic tank way below. Castle privies usually emptied into the moat by means of a pipe leading straight from one to the other. Many houses, often a whole street, would share the same septic tank, and also share the cost when this needed emptying out. Invariably the job was delayed by lack of funds or the disinclination to pay, but it was illegal to permit an overflowing septic tank. Which doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

Poorer households did not usually own a privy. A chamber pot, or sometimes just the casual use of the street outside, was normal. There were also public privies in some places in the larger cities, invariably emptying directly into the river. Passers by could watch the results falling from the hut to the water. These public privies were only occasionally cleaned or repaired, the cubicles were often without doors, and some customers were known to tumble – along with their waste.

Urine was actually a useful commodity. Used in bleaching, tanning, glue making, medicine and general laundry duties, there were those who travelled the streets early each morning to collect the contents of chamber pots. You could sometimes sell your urine. What a useful trade.

A variety of animals roamed most city streets and these presumably added their own special smells. Dogs, both domesticated and feral, cats the same, wandered freely. But goats also broke free of their tethers and explored the local alleys, whilst chickens were particularly common. Keeping pigs and allowing them free run in the township was also illegal – but still occurred quite regularly. Small children (sometimes left to wander in poorer areas where neighbours were accustomed to keep a general watch) were often bitten by pigs, sometimes fatally. The swine of yesteryear were not friendly creatures.

But the stink of everyday life was not always as bad as it might seem. Today’s general belief that nobody washed in those days is quite inaccurate. Most people made a considerable effort to keep clean. There were large communal wash houses and these were much appreciated. They included a certain amount of cheerful prostitution, but they were principally used for the obvious purpose. People liked to keep clean and although a concept of modern hygiene was naturally nonexistent, cleanliness of both body and clothes was important to most. Many households made use of half barrels as baths, though naturally plumbing was not included. Cleanliness was therefore far easier for the rich, but was also practised whenever possible by the poor.

Picture of a medieval village © Florida Center for Instructional Technology, http://etc.usf.edu/clipart

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8
Jul

Medieval Winterfest

   Posted by: Julia Redlich    in NSW Branch News

Instead of our usual Coronation of Richard and Anne anniversary lunch this year, the New South Wales Branch opted for a visit to Parramatta Park on July 3rd for the annual Medieval Winterfest.  It was cold and windy, but the sunshine helped the enjoyment of the event at the Coleman Oval, despite the roundabout route we had to take to get there.

There was a lot of medieval merriment going on: jousting, combat and arms displays, birds of prey in full flight, a chance to test your skills at arms – and a plethora of stalls selling books, leatherwork and some wonderful costumes; there were displays of armour with some slashingly shining swords, as well as more tranquil activities such as intricate weaving and spinning of fine wool.

And of course food stalls to keep us nourished throughout the day! Being really picky, we wished for more benches to sit on instead of lowering our tired and, let it be said, the ageing bones of some of us on to the grass. Our lunch was enhanced as we sat in front of the members of the Orion Consort who entertained us with a wonderful selection of music of the times on an equally wonderful selection of instruments.

The Orion Consort (Photo by Hannah Bruechert)

Many of the hundreds attending wore medieval dress, but those of us travelling by public transport limited our finery to Ricardian scarves and pendants and one wore a striking top announcing “Richard III Rules OK”.

Indeed he does!

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23
May

Face Value

   Posted by: Lynne Foley    in News

For those interested in medieval coins an online company www.time-lines.co.uk/richard-iii-coins-197-0.html has coins for sale, several from the reign of Edward IV, costing from £110 – £325.

The site features a fine coin of Richard’s time, an extremely rare London Mint, Long Cross Halfpenny.  As this item has now sold, the image is available but not the price.

Oh well, I comfort myself with the thought that I could not probably have afforded it given its rarity, but at least the images of all the coins are well worth a look.

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22
Feb

The Logge Register

   Posted by: Dorothea Preis    in Bookworm

The Logge Register

Book Review:  The Logge Register – A wonderful resource

Lesley Boatwright, Moira Habberjam, Peter Hammond (eds.), The Logge Register of PCC Wills, 1479 to 1486, Richard III Society, Knaphill (UK), 2008.  ISBN 978-0-904893-18-2

Due a bit of a mix-up at the UK end of the Richard III Society I received today volume 1  of The Logge Register of PCC Wills, 1479 to 1486 and expect volume 2 to arrive soon.  As an avid reader of The Ricardian and the Ricardian Bulletin, I have heard a lot about this project over the years, but always assumed that its target audience would be academics with very specialised interests.  So it came as a wonderful surprise to realise what a great resource this is.

The Register has two volumes, which contain all of the 379 wills and testaments in the register of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury for the years 1479 to 1486.  Its name Logge Register is derived from the first will in the collection, which is that of John Logge, a woodmonger of London.  Some of the wills are in English, some are in Latin, with translations.  We find the wills of people that every Ricardian knows very well, like William Lord Hastings (will no. 105) and William Catesby (will no. 187), or my old “friend” William Waynflete (will no. 350).  However, also the wills of the less famous make fascinating reading as we can learn so much about the lives – and deaths – of medieval people.

What a wonderful resource and I’m deeply grateful for the mix-up!

The Logge Register can be order from the shop of the Richard III Society (the link on the top left hand corner of the website)

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15
Feb

The Plague of the February Meeting

   Posted by: Leslie McCawley    in Meetings

Our first branch meeting of the new year was held on Saturday, 12 February 2011. The Sydney Mechanics’ School of Arts meeting room was once again filled to capacity with old members and new. Judith’s husband Don Hughes was present for the first time since meetings were held in North Sydney (2007), so was able to meet people who had joined since then. Several of the regular members not in attendance were instead at the Plantagenet 1-day course held at the Centre for Continuing Education at the University of Sydney. Read the rest of this entry »

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10
Feb

The View from Scotland on … Football

   Posted by: Dorothea Preis    in Quotes

Another opinion from James I/VI – this time on football:

Certainly bodily exercises and games are very commendable, as well for banishing of idleness as for making his body able, but from this compte [list] I debarred all rumling violent exercises as the football. (Basilicon Doron, 1599)

Football in those days was certainly a much more violent affair than the game played according to rules today.  It seems the football hooligans could often be found on the field, rather than surrounding it.  James was not the only one and by no means the first who held this opinion. Read the rest of this entry »

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9
Feb

Don’t forget: General Meeting on 12 February

   Posted by: Dorothea Preis    in Meetings

We are looking forward to welcoming Dr Penny Bishop to our General Meeting on Saturday, 12 February 2011, at 14h00.  Penny will talk on “Plagues and Pestilences in the Middle Ages”, which promises to be a fascinating and informative talk.

Don’t forget, our meetings are not just for members, but visitors are always more than welcome.

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29
Sep

Michaelmas

   Posted by: Dorothea Preis    in Events in History

Today is Michaelmas, or the day of St Michael and All Angels.  This is one of the feast days which are often mentioned in medieval sources as it used to be one of the quarter-days in England.  By Michaelmas the harvest had to be completed, so it became the day when rents had to be paid, magistrates and councils were elected and on manors the peasants elected a reeve.  It was also a Holy Day of Obligation, meaning the faithful were obliged to attend mass.

The date of Michaelmas, 29 September, is about the time of the (northern hemisphere) autumn equinox, when the nights were getting longer and Michael came to be seen as the protector against the forces of the dark.  Many monasteries and churches, often near the sea, were dedicated to him.

Michael is one of the archangels and his name means “Who is like God?”.  St Michael is said to be the captain of the heavenly armies and is therefore generally pictured in full armour, carrying a lance and with his foot on the neck of a dragon (based on Revelation 12, 7).  You can distinguish him from St George, who is often shown in a similar pose, by his wings.

The traditional meal for Michaelmas would be roast goose.  The geese had fed on the stubble of the fields after the grain had been harvested.  In some places there was also a tradition of special large loaves of bread just for this day.  Carrots were a traditional accompaniment to the goose.

Michaelmas Term is still the name of the first term of the academic year at many British universities and some schools.

As an illustration for this day I simply couldn’t resist the photo of a statue by Wilhelm Rottermondt (1701 – 1755) of the Archangel Michael at my alma mater,  Bonn University, and therefore is of personal significance.

Bibliography:

Michael and All Angels”, The Mission of St. Clare, accessed 21 Sept.2010
Michaelmas”, Alice’s Medieval Feasts & Facts, accessed 21 Sept. 2010
Michaelmas Day”, The Old Foodie, accessed 21 Sept. 2010
September, 29th”, Hillman’s Hyperlinked and Searchable Chamber’s Book of Days, accessed 21 Sept. 2010

Photograph of St Michael at Bonn University taken by Michael Jaletzke; obtained through Wikimedia Commons.

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7
Sep

I can see clearly now…

   Posted by: Dorothea Preis    in Medieval Miscellany

Tommaso da Modena, Hugh of Provence (1352)

Recently Susan Higginbotham of the American Branch of the Richard III Society made a remark that Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, purchased a number of pairs of “spactakells” for himself during the years 1584 to 1586.[1]  Reading this, squinting at my computer screen because I had forgotten my own reading glasses somewhere else, made me wonder whether Richard III approx. 100 years before Dudley would have had access to glasses.  He might very well have needed them, had he been allowed to grow old.  Presbyopia, where the ability to focus on near objects is diminished, is one of the symptoms caused by the natural course of aging.[2] Read the rest of this entry »

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