The Poet Knight

Hartmann von Aue (born c.1160) started as a member of the lower nobility in Swabia. We don't know precisely where he was born; the "von Aue" tacked onto his name is because he became a knight in the service of the Lords of Aue (Obernau by the River Neckar).

He was educated at a monastery school and became a minor minister at the Swabian court. Whether at the monastery or later we don't know, but besides German he had knowledge of French and Latin. He participated in a Crusade, either the Third Crusade in 1189 or its followup in 1197 (called the "Emperor's Crusade"), when Hohenstaufen Emperor Henry VI tried to redeem the efforts of his father, Emperor Frederick I "Barbarossa," during the Third.

Outside of his knightly duties he was a poet and songwriter. He is considered one of the three great epic poets of Middle High German, along with Wolfram von Eschenbach and Gottfried von Strasburg.

Four narrative poems came from Hartmann's pen, two of which, Erec and Iwein, are part of the Arthurian cycle and help to introducer that subject into German epic poetry. They are based, respectively, on Eric and Enide and Yvain, the Knight of the Lion by Chrétien de Troyes.

The other two are Gregorius, adapted from a French epic, and Der arme Heinrich, which tells the story of a leper cured by a young girl.

The date of his death is unknown, but von Strasburg, writing in his "Tristan" c.1210 mentions that Hartmann is still living, while Heinrich von dem Türlin, in his Arthurian poem "Krone" ("The Crown"; c.1215-1220) says Hartmann is deceased.

Gregorius is quite unusual, and a summary here would make this post very long, so I think I'll save it for tomorrow.

The Roman de Fergus

Although you wouldn't suspect that the life of Fergus of Galloway (who died in 1161) would lend itself to the Arthurian Romance cycle, the tendency to latch onto an old name and use it in creative ways was common in the Middle Ages. What was even more creative was that the story seems to be a parody of Arthurian romance.

The Roman de Fergus, or "Story of Fergus" is written in Old French by someone who claims to be Guillaume le Clerc (William the Clerk). A recent idea links the author to a royal clerk, William of Malveisin, who was born in France but became a royal clerk in Scotland. The name and the language make him a likely candidate to write the Roman to entertain the court of William I of Scotland, who would not mind the implied mockery of a lord of Galloway.

Unlike most Arthurian Romance, this Roman has very specific and accurate references to geography. In it, Fergus is a farmer, son of a lord who can only afford a fortress made of wood, not stone. Fergus observes Arthur and his knights on a stag hunt near Carlisle, and is inspired by them to become a knight himself.

He gets a suit of armor from his father, and heads to Arthur's court in Carlisle. Along the way he kills two bandits whose heads he presents to Arthur. Kay the Seneschal mocks him and challenges him to prove his worth by defeating the Black Knight. He is knighted by Arthur and receives a sword from Perceval.

At Liddel Castle along the way, he falls in love with Galiene, and promises to return to her when he has defeated the Black Knight. After doing so, he returns, but Galiene is missing. He searches for a year, and encounters a dwarf who says he will find her if he can retrieve a shield from a hag (who is also a dragon) in Dunnottar Castle. This he does, killing a few more people with whom he argues, and returns to find Galiene is now the ruler of Lothian. Unfortunately, she is in Roxburgh, besieged by a neighboring king. Heading to Roxburgh, he is attacked at Melrose by the husband of the hag he killed at Dunnottar.

Fergus eventually saves Roxburgh, and he and Galiene are reunited at a tournament held by Arthur in which Fergus defeats every one of Arthur's knights.

The Roman de Fergus was entertaining, but not considered great medieval literature except that it was an interesting parody of the Perceval-Grail story. Then something odd happened: in the mid-13th century it was translated into Middle Dutch...poorly. The first half was done well, but a second translator took over who was not as good at Old French. Perhaps the second translator just wanted to re-work the story. The resulting Roman de Ferguut is far better known as a Dutch classic than the original is known in Scotland. It even earned an English translation in 2000.

Although Fergus becomes a hero, did his humble origin qualify as mockery, and was this story a playful pursuit by William the Clerk, or did his employer William I of Scotland request it? Let's see why King William might have wanted to poke a little fun at Galloway next time.

The Titles of the Decameron

Giovanni Boccaccio played around with titles, and not only for his own works. Dante Alighieri's magnum opus was called by the author Commedia, "Comedy," but in later years it began being referred to as the "Divine Comedy" by Boccaccio, and the name stuck. Boccaccio had a good reason for tacking that adjective onto Dante's work, and not just because of the obvious reason.

When Boccaccio wrote his Decameron (c.1353), he apparently thought of it as a parallel or complement to Dante's work, because Boccaccio sometimes called his tale of ten young people telling ten stories per day for ten days  l'Umana commedia ("the Human comedy").

Besides that, Boccaccio also had a subtitle for the Decameron that is often overlooked, and the explanation for it has a couple of layers. His subtitle (seen above in an early Italian edition) was Prencipe Galeotto, or "Prince Galehaut." Who was that, and why was it important to Boccaccio? What message did it convey to his audience?

Galehaut was well-known to the medieval literary crowd as a prince from the Arthurian legends, specifically from the French Lancelot cycle. Galehaut was a half-giant who brings a massive army to challenge King Arthur's rule over Logres. Galehaut's forces are superior, but he is so enamored of the prowess of a Black Knight fighting for Arthur's side that he stops the battle solely for the opportunity to meet this knight and spend time with him. TheBlack Knight turns out to be a young Lancelot, and thus begins a deep friendship between the two, interpreted by some as a strong chivalric bond and by some as a homosexual bond.

Enter Guinevere. Galehaut realizes Lancelot's love for Guinevere, and steps back from Lancelot to avoid being "in the way." Later, when Guinevere is accused oof infidelity to Arthur and flees, Lancelot and she find refuge in Galehaut's castle. Galehaut dies at the age of 39 from his unrequited longing for the man he gave up. He is laid in a magnificent tomb that he had built to commemorate their friendship. Lancelot at his death is also laid in that tomb, side by side with Galehaut.*

Galehaut becomes a symbol of greatness, abandoning one's own desires for the sake of another's. How does this apply to the Decameron? 

For that, we need to turn to Dante again, and visit the second circle of Hell where we meet two lovers, Paolo and Francesca. Come back tomorrow, and we will start to put it all together.

*Malory changes this story, using the name Galahad.

The Matter of Britain

Just like the Matter of France, the Matter of Britain is a collection of legends and literature involving kings and heroes.

King Arthur was central to many of these legends, but not the only figure. The Knights of the Round Table was fodder for many stories that promoted chivalrous behavior and Christian values wrapped in mysterious powers and fantastical antagonists.

The 12th century poet Chrétien de Troyes, though French, contributes to the Matter of Britain with stories of Perceval, Lancelot, Yvain, and the Story of the Grail. Thomas Malory's 15th century Le Morte d'Arthur was the ultimate expression of the Arthurian Cycle.

The 12th century Historia Regum Britanniae ("History of the Kings of Britain") by Geoffrey of Monmouth collects many earlier texts and provides us with the stories of King Coel, making him the father of Helena. This is also the source of Shakespeare's King Lear.

One of the earliest works in the Matter of Britain is the 9th century Historia Brittonum by Nennius (to be fair: Nennius was likely a later contributor to the work; the original author is unknown). One of Nennius' singular contributions to the Matter of Britain is the idea that Britain was found and founded by Brutus or Brute of Troy, Britain's first king  and a descendant of Aeneas. Using the legend of the diaspora of heroes after the Trojan War, this created a desirable link to Rome through its Virgilian founder, Aeneas.

And that was important because Rome and its Empire was the "Golden Age" that Western Europe looked back at and longed to recreate, hence the Holy Roman Empire. As it happens, the third and final of the Matters was the Matter of Rome. I'll tell you more next time.

Edward I - King

Lord Edward returned from the Ninth Crusade to a country that had not had a king in residence for a couple years. His father, Henry III, had died 16 November 1272. Word reached Edward in Sicily while he was recuperating from an assassination attempt in the Holy Land. Instead of traveling directly to England, however, Edward made a "good will" tour.

He went through Italy, visiting Pope Gregory X, whom he had known as Teobaldi Visconti on Crusade. He visited his uncle, Philip I, to receive homage from him. He in turn traveled through France and paid homage to Philip III for Edward's domains there. He spent time in the Duchy of Gascony, suppressing a rebellion and taking stock of his feudal possessions.

He arrived in England on 2 August 1274, almost two years after Henry's death. He had already been proclaimed king upon his father's death, so the coronation on 19 August was a formality. Once he was officially crowned, he removed the crown, announcing his intention not to don it again until he had reclaimed all the lands that his father had lost.

As in Shakespeare's Henry V, "the courses of his youth promised it not." The stories of a callow teen gave way to an able administrator and a devoted and gentle family man, though not without bouts of temper and intimidating behavior. He was a good and chivalrous soldier, and a pious churchgoer with particular devotion to the Virgin Mary and Saint Thomas Becket. Despite his piety, however, he still clashed with the archbishops of Canterbury and with the popes over the question of taxing the churches.

He had a particular interest in the legend of King Arthur, visiting the "grave" of Arthur and Guinevere at Glastonbury Abbey to underscore to the Welsh that Arthur was not returning to lead them. He held two Round Table events with feasting and tournaments.

He maintained correspondence with the Mongol Empire—still smarting from their overthrow in the Middle East by the Mamluks—promising to go on Crusade again with them if the pope approved. Further Crusades were also inhibited by potential wars on the continent, in which Edward took a hand in negotiating truces. When a Tenth Crusade might have been implemented, news came of the fall of Acre in 1291, and crusading fever abated.

Mindful of the unrest during his father's reign that led to rebellions and the Second Barons' War, he undertook an overhaul of the administrative systems, and ordered an inquest of the entire country, inviting complaints about abuse by royal officials. The resulting records, called the Hundred Rolls, were like a second Domesday Book, and became a foundation for deterring what rights and possessions were held by others, and which should revert to the Crown. (This was not without controversy, since it seemed to be done largely to increase Edward's possessions.)

Because these posts are supposed to be short and digestible snacks rather than feats, things like a constitutional crisis, war with Wales, disputes with Scotland, expelling the Jews, and overhauling the coinage can all be left for their own self-contained posts. To wrap up this drawn-out biography of Edward I, I will tell you that on 6 July 1307, suffering from dysentery while traveling northward to deal with Robert the Bruce, he was awakened by his servants to rise for the day, and died in their arms. He was 68 years old.

If only he had someone who could have used the royal touch on him, he might have been healed. I will explain that reference tomorrow.

St. Illtud

The location of Wales on the south-western part of the island of Great Britain protected it somewhat from the pagan Germanic invasions that took place after the departure of the Roman legions in 410 CE. They did, however, have to deal with Christian heresy, such as the British theologian Pelagius' (died 418) emphasis on human choice in salvation and his denial of original sin. Germanus of Auxerre traveled to Britain to combat Pelagianism. Not only was Germanus successful, but he became the mentor of one of the most prominent Welsh saints, Illtud.

The earliest mention of Illtud is in a life of St. Samson of Dol, written about 600. In it, we learn that he founded a monastery and college in Glamorgan, possibly the earliest college of its kind in Wales, in the 6th century. Its numerous pupils included Gildas, St. David, and St. Samson. He was one of the most accomplished of the disciples of Germanus, well-educated and well-versed in Scripture. There are traits, however, such as his supposed ability to foretell the future, that I would put down to later legend-making.

A later biography written about 1140 tells us much more that we should not take as fact, but we can accept that it is an indicator of his popularity. The Vita Sancti Iltuti ("Life of St. Illtud") can be found here, where you will see him called "Illtud the soldier" (in Welsh he is sometimes referred to as Illtud Farchog which means "Illtud the Knight"), son of a Breton prince and a cousin of King Arthur, whose court he visits so he can experience its magnificence.

Eventually an angel appears to him and urges him to serve the "King of Kings," so Illtud decides to forsake his wife and become a hermit. He later takes Holy Orders and becomes an abbot, experiences miracles, cures his wife of blindness through his prayers, sees his opponents suffer, and more. There is another Welsh legend that names Illtud, along with Cadoc and Peredur, as the triumvirate into whose keeping Arthur places the Holy Grail.

The 12th century's renewed fascination with the Arthur legend inspired writers to embrace any character perceived to have been contemporaneous with Arthur. It seems likely that Illtud might not have been remembered except for the existence of the life of Samson, a student at his school. We should probably ask why Samson of Dol was considered important, and we will ... tomorrow.

Gildas' Life, Certainly False

Something about the 6th century British monk Gildas inspired later writers to create elaborate biographies for him.

The first is referred to as the Rhuys Life, since it was written by an anonymous monk at the monastery on the Rhuys Peninsula in the 9th century. He claims Gildas was the son of Caunus, a king in Scotland, with four brothers. When their father dies, one brother comes king and the others become monks. Gildas goes to a monastery under St. Illtud. Gildas becomes ordained in Ireland then returns to northern Britain to preach. The High King of Ireland, Ainmericus (and there was a king Ainmuire Mac Sétnai in the 560s) asks him to restore Christianity to Ireland. After he "fixes" Ireland, he travels to Rome and Ravenna, slays a dragon, and performs miracles. He then settles on the island of Houat off the coast of Brittany as a hermit, during which time he preaches to a woman who is pregnant with St. David (mentioned here).

He later found the monastery at Rhuys and writes a rule book for monks, then later writes a book that criticizes five British kings. He dies on 29 January 570. At his request, the body is placed on a boat and set adrift, but on 11 May 571 the ship comes ashore at Rhuys with the body perfectly preserved, so they bury him at Rhuys. (The picture is a statue of Gildas at Rhuys.)

Gildas' life was greatly elaborated upon in the 12th century by a friend of Geoffrey of Monmouth, Caradoc of Lancarfan. In it, Gildas becomes one of 24 sons of King Nau of Scotia. This is in the time of Arthur, whom Gildas loved. His brother Hueil, however, frequently came down from Scotland to raid, and on one of these excursions he is killed by Arthur. Gildas travels to see Arthur and forgive him.

Gildas then retires to a secret island, but after pirates from the Orkneys carry off his goods and friends, he goes south to Glastonbury, ruled by Melwas, King of the Summer Country (Somerset). Here follows the first time the abduction of Guinevere is mentioned in literature. Melwas abducts her to Glastonbury and rapes her. When Arthur comes to Glastonbury to retrieve his queen, Gildas persuades the two kings to make peace.

There is a Welsh genealogical tract, Bonedd y Saint ("Descent of the Saints"), whose oldest manuscripts date from the 13th century, that credits Gildas with three sons and a daughter. Except for their names, however, we know nothing more about them.

Gildas' lived at the right time to be incorporated into the fascination with King Arthur. There is another link between Gildas' life and Arthur, actually, and that is through his first mentor, St. Illtud.  Who was St. Illtud, and what was his link to Arthur? I'll tell you tomorrow.

Gildas' Life, Probably True

The 6th century British monk St. Gildas, also known as Gildas the Wise, is known by different biographies with wildly different claims and details. There are a few things we can assume are largely true.

He was born in Scotland to a noble family, but forsook it to be educated (we think) at a monastery in Wales under St. Illtud. He became known as a teacher, traveling around Britain and Ireland while preaching and setting up churches and monasteries.

He eventually went to Brittany to become a hermit, but his reputation drew followers longing for instruction. He built a monastery for them on the Rhuys Peninsula. (Pictured above is a chapel to St. Gildas in France.) This s where he wrote his less-than-complimentary history

His De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae ("On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain") was a savage treatment in three parts of the people and rulers in the past and their sinful ways.

Part one explains recent British history, starting with the Roman conquest and leading up to his own time (He gives his birth year as the same in which the Battle of Mount Badon is fought, which is said by some to be 452CE; the Annales Cambriae give his death as 570; both these dates cannot be mutually trustworthy). Part two is a criticism of five kings, some of whom are clearly documented figures. Part three condemns the current state of the British clergy.

Part one gets the most attention from scholars of Arthurian literature. In it, he mentions Ambrosius Aurelianus as the figure who led the British against the invading Saxons and drove them out. This section also has the earliest reference to the Battle of Mount Badon (Mons Badonicus), the major engagement against the Saxons which decisively stopped their advance and occupation of Great Britain.

If "Arthur" fought at the Battle of Mount Badon, and Gildas was born that year, he would have been very young during much of the time that the "Arthur" figure flourished. For some reason, however—oral tradition?—later biographies of Gildas tie him more tightly to Arthurian Legend, adding some details to those legends for the first time. But that's a story for tomorrow.

Geoffrey of Monmouth

Geoffrey of Monmouth may have been born in Monmouth, Wales, since he refers to himself that way (in Latin, he writes it "Galfridus Monemutensis"). He is called by some contemporaries "Galfridus Arturus" (Geoffrey Arthur), which may allude to his father's name or be a nickname based on his interests, since he writes about King Arthur. We assume he was born between 1090 and 1100. We don't really know his country of origin, and some assume his parents came over with William the Conqueror, but Galfridus and Arthur were common names among the Bretons.

A half-dozen charters in Oxford between 1129 and 1151 were witnessed by him, so he was definitely in the Oxford area during that time. He was ordained Bishop of St. Asaph by Archbishop Theobald of Bec in 1152, although he doesn't seem to have ever actually spent time at St. Asaph's because of the wars of Owain Gwynedd. He likely died by Christmas 1154, when he was succeeded by Bishop Richard.

His importance to the modern world was the time he spent writing, especially the Historia Regum Britanniae ("The History of the Kings of Britain"). Although he claimed it was a translation of an ancient book—a common boast of medical writers to give authenticity to their work, which was more important than claiming originality—it is a combination of the works of Bede, Gildas, the Historia Britonum, anecdotes from oral tradition, and his own powers of invention. Future writers like Henry of Huntingdon drew on it without question, and from Geoffrey's time until the 16th century it was accepted as accurate history. (To be fair to medieval historians, William of Newburgh (1136 - 1198) did declare that everything Geoffrey said about Vortigern and Arthur was made up.)

He starts his history with Brutus the Trojan, the great-grandson Æneas, founding (and giving his name to) Britain, and Corineus the Trojan founding (and giving his name to) Cornwall. One of his descendants, Leir, divides his kingdom between his three daughters (General, Regan, and Cordelia), giving a later Shakespeare fodder for one of his tragedies. Books Five and Six deal with Vortigern and Merlin, then Book Seven breaks up the history with a series of prophecies by Merlin, setting up not only the later chapters, but also events in Geoffrey's own time. Books Eight, Nine, and Ten tell the Arthurian story, ending with the return of the Saxons after Arthur's death.

Geoffrey's Historia was enormously popular, with about 200 extant manuscripts known as of the 20th century. His section on Arthur—and the Prophetiae Merlini ("Prophecies of Merlin") and the (attributed to him) poem Vita Merlini ("Life of Merlin")—have provided modern retellings of the Arthurian myth in story and cinema with plenty of dramatic details.

As mentioned above, there were historians like William of Newburgh who were more critical when it came to selecting their material and relating it to an audience. William, however, was not immune to relating stories whose interest for the audience was more important than his ability to confirm them. Medieval clickbait? Let's find out tomorrow.

Three Futile Battles

The Welsh Triads are several statements that group things in threes. They can be basic knowledge, such as "There are three primary musical forms, namely: string music; bellows music; and music of the tongue." They can be historical, such as "Three princes of the Court of Arthur. Goronwy son of Echell Fordwyten; and Cadreith son of Porthfaurgaddu; and Fleidur Fflam."

Accordingly, there were "Three Futile Battles of the Island of Britain." They were the Battle of Arfderydd, the battle of Camlann, and the Battle of the Trees. Arfderydd was mentioned in the previous post, because the outcome—the death of Gwenddoleu, ruler of Arfderydd (now Arthuret)—drove his bard Myrddin/Merlin mad, causing him to flee to the forest and live among birds and beasts. This battle is said to have taken place in 573CE, according to the Annales Cambriae, the Annals of Wales.

The Battle of Camlann is also mentioned in the Annales Cambriae, taking place in 537, with very little detail except to call it "strife of Camlann, in which Arthur and Medraut fell, and there was great mortality in Britain and Ireland." Although Medraut is naturally equated to Mordred, there is no clue in the entry that they were enemies.

The Battle of the Trees is a Welsh poem found in a 14th century manuscript, The Book of Taliesin. In it, the Welsh magician and warrior Gwydion enchants the trees to fight as his army against Arawn, lord of the Underworld.

The reason they are called "futile" is because the battles came about because of small, pointless actions. Arderydd is said to have been brought about because of an argument over a lark's nest. The Battle of the Trees comes about when Amaethon, Welsh god of agriculture, steals a dog, a lapwing, and a roebuck from Arawn. Camlann is brought about because of an argument between Gwenhwyfar (Guinevere) and her sister, Gwennhwyfach. Some sources specify this as a slap (hence the illustration above), which became part of another Triad: "The Three Fatal Slaps" or "The Three Harmful Blows of the Island of Britain."

Although this slap, and the hostility between Guinevere and her obscure sister, are not seen outside of Welsh legend, it is interesting that Malory does make Camlann's big battle the result of something "futile": during a parley between Arthur and Mordred, a soldier reflexively draws his sword because he sees a snake in the grass before him. This act causes the opposing side to assume treachery, whereupon they draw their swords, and the fight is on. Something that should be insignificant causes great destruction.

But, as mentioned, the earliest reference to Camlann includes none of this. There were extreme weather events in 535-36 that led to great famine; this could easily have led to fighting between groups struggling for food. Some suggest Camlann was a disastrous cattle raid for food. Next, let's talk about the weather.

Merlin the Madman

I've mentioned before that this blog is about discussing the things about the Middle Ages that are outside the mainstream, so no talking about the things "everyone knows": jousting, King Arthur, "wiping your hands on the dog because they had no napkins" (sorry, inside joke). Merlin has been mentioned in passing several times, but never discussed in any sort of detail. For those readers who have an image of Merlin in their heads from literature and cinema, here's a fresh (and authentic) take.

In short, Merlin spent time as a madman, acting like a beast in the wilderness. Mary Stewart's wonderful Arthurian take on post-Roman Britain has him "lost" for several months after being drugged.

In truth, this may be Merlin's "natural state"; that is, originally, the character who comes down to us as the Merlin of legend may be based on a real figure whose chief feature was being not quite sane. This is the story of Myrddin Wyllt.

Myrddin Wyllt (pronounced like "murthin wilt") is a character in medieval Welsh legend (where many Arthurian stories originate). The name means "Myrddin the Wild"; he is also known as Myrddin Emrys (Emrys=Ambrosius), Merlinus Caledonensis ("of Caledonia"), and Merlin Sylvester's ("of the woods"). Born supposedly c.540CE, he was a bard (perhaps the chief bard) who goes mad after the Battle of Arfderydd. Having become irrational for some reason, he takes to the forest (some versions say the Caledonian Forest in Scotland). There he gains the power of prophecy (often associated with being not quite right in the head).

The "Life of Saint Kentigern" tells of the saint (also known as St. Mungo) encountering a madman in the Caledonian Forest named Lailoken or Laleocen in the late 6th century. A later (15th century) story about "Lailoken and Kentigern" includes the line "...some say he was called Merlynum." This link between the two names may have been influenced by a 12th (?) century poem, a dialogue between Myrddin and his sister (?) Gwendydd in which his sister calls him Llallwgan, the Welsh form of Lailoken.

Some scholars assume a conflation of several different characters:one in Wales, one in Scotland, maybe more. The Merlin story is convoluted, obscure, and largely probably untrue, but much of it starts with a mad bard. Because of the time period, his legend much later became linked to Arthur's court as a wise man and prophet. But in the beginning, his chief feature is his sudden madness.

Why did he go mad after the Battle of Arfderydd? It was an important turning point, one of the "Three Futile Battles of the Island of Britain," which I'll explain next time.

Germanus of Auxerre, Part 2

After Germanus defeated the Pelagians in Briton (through sheer force of his rhetorical skills, apparently, having studied eloquence and having argued the law), Germanus celebrated at the shrine of St. Alban (the first British Christian martyr). That night, St. Alban appeared to Germanus in a dream, telling the details of his martyrdom. Germanus had the story written down next morning. Our only record of St. Alban is the Passio Albani, ("Passion of [St.] Alban"), written in either the 5th or 6th century. Some scholars feel it is likely that we only have any information regarding St. Alban because Germanus had it written down.

Another anecdote about him in the Historia Brittonum ("History of the Britons," mentioned once before here) has him traveling to Britain a second time in the mid 430s or 440s, at which time he condemned for incest Guorthigern, the Vortigern of Welsh tales who figures into stories of Arthur. Vortigern tried to humiliate Germanus by having his daughter declare the bishop as the father of her child. In retaliation, Germanus cursed Vortigern, who fled into Wales pursued by Germanus and others. Vortigern holed up in a castle; Germanus and his group fasted and prayed for three days; fire from heaven fell on the castle, destroying it and all within. No historian gives any value to this story, but it is an example of Germanus' reputation.

He died in Ravenna; his feast day is 31 July.

His name lives on, at the Abbey of Saint-Germain d'Auxerre, at the church Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois which stands across from the Louvre, and several St. Germanus churches in England. He also makes appearances in literature and other media; his 2nd mission to Britain is included in the 2004 movie King Arthur, opposite Clive Owen as Arthur; in 2007, his character appears in The Last Legion where he leads the Romans and Britons against the Picts.

But back to that little girl he saw in Nanterre (see the illustration); what he told her more specifically was that she should live her life as if she were espoused to Christ. Apparently, that's exactly what she did. Tomorrow I'll introduce you to St. Geneviève of Paris.

The Origin of the Grail, Part 2

In Part 1 we learned that the first mention of the grail was as a miraculous serving dish. The day before we learned that Robert de Boron linked the grail to the cup used at the last Supper. Around the same time, German poet Wolfram von Eschenbach (c.1160 - 1220) had a very different idea about it.

von Eschenbach based his epic Parzival on Chrétien's Perceval. Parzival is sheltered by his mother from thoughts of knighthood, but three passing knights convince him to seek out Arthur's court. She dies after he leaves. His time at Arthur's court mirrors Chrétien's version somewhat, in that he defeats a knight, leaves and learns chivalry from a mentor, and becomes the guest at the castle of Anfortas, the Grail castle. Anfortas warns him not to be too curious, so he does not ask Anfortas about the strange wound he has or about the array of wondrous objects paraded before him. He awakens the next morning to an abandoned castle, leading him to think the night before was all illusion caused by evil spirits.

There is much more afterward, but regarding the procession of objects seen by Parzival: one of the objects is a stone, about which von Eschenbach tells us der stein ist ouch genant der gral ("the stone is also called the grail"). It is carried, preceded by candles and balsam incense, in a green silken cloth by a beautiful lady with the name "Overflowing Happiness." It is the stone of the phoenix, and connected with the power of resurrection. Every Good Friday, a shining white dove flies down to it with a Communion Host in its mouth, placing the Host on the stone to renew its power. Only the baptized can see the Grail. When Lucifer rebelled against God, the angels who did not take a side went to the stone. The stone is wide enough to be written on. Later in Parzival the titular character's name appears on the stone, marking him as the new Grail King.

There is more. von Eschenbach's interpretation of the Grail has provided fodder for many many years for scholars wishing to understand his meaning. After him, however, the Middle Ages settled on the cup from the Last Supper and made the Grail a central motif for quests involving the Arthurian Cycle.

Of course, since the cross on which Christ was crucified had been found years earlier, there was no reason to believe that the cup from the Last Supper had not survived. A 7th century pilgrim had claimed the cup was displayed in Jerusalem. In the late 12th century, a copy of the grail was supposedly looted from Byzantium and taken to Troyes; it was lost during the French Revolution. The Genoa Cathedral has a green glass dish supposedly used at the Last Supper. The Holy Chalice of Valencia appeared in 1399 but purports to be older. There is also the Nanteos Cup, a wooden bowl found in Wales, a glass dish found near Glastonbury, and a 6th century chalice called the Antioch Chalice. All were linked to the Grail legend, (without evidence).

Glastonbury, of course, is the place where (according to Robert de Boron) Joseph of Arimathea sends the Holy Grail. What was so special about it? Let's see what we know...next time.

The Origin of the Grail, Part 1

When it comes to stories about the Middle Ages, the story of the Holy Grail is, you might say, the Holy Grail of stories.

The first mention of a grail was in the Old French Perceval, le Conte du Graal ("Perceval, the Account/Story of the Grail") by Chrétien de Troyes about 1190. Perceval was a young man raised by a single mother in the wilds of Wales. One day he encounters a group of knights and decides he wants to become one. His mother is opposed to this, but he sets out for King Arthur's court.

He is mocked by Sir Kay, but Perceval manages to kill a knight that has been a problem for Arthur. He trains under a knight, rescues and falls in love with that knight's niece Blanchefleur. He goes back to visit his mother, along the way encountering the Fisher King, at whose castle he spends the night. During a meal there he sees a procession: first a young man carrying a bleeding lance, then two young men carrying candelabra, then a young woman carrying a fancy golden serving dish (the grail), then another young woman with a silver platter.

When he wakes the next morning and heads home, Perceval sees a young girl mourning, who tells him that if he had asked about the grail, the wounded king would have been healed. He goes home and discovers that his mother has died. Later, after he has joined Arthur's court, a "loathly lady" enters and criticizes Perceval for not asking about the grail. A later short passage has a hermit explain to Perceval that the grail held a host (presumably from the Christian Mass) that sustains the Fisher King's father, who is wounded. (This link to the Christian Mass made it easy to equate the grail with a chalice.)

Chrétien did not finish the poem; the patron for whom he was writing it, Philip I Count of Flanders, died in 1191 while crusading at Acre. What he might have done to further the significance of the grail and the wounded king is unknown. Other writers, however, were happy to seize on the image of the grail and run with it, such as Robert de Boron in the previous post.

We will check on other writers who picked up where Chrétien left off.

Robert de Boron

Robert de Boron was a French poet of the late 12th/early 13th centuries. There are two texts in Old French that are definitively attributed to him: Joseph d’Arimathie and Merlin. Two other texts are attributed to him with uncertainty, although similar in style: Perceval and Mort Artu ("Perceval" and "Death of Arthur"). Together they are called the Robert Cycle, or The Romance of the History of the Grail.

In Joseph d’Arimathie, de Boron merged the legend of the grail with Christian concepts. The magical grail first appeared in Chrétien de Troyes' Perceval, le Conte du Graal in about 1190, but it was not a Christian item. de Boron explained it as the cup used at the Last Supper, and then used by Joseph of Arimathea to catch Christ's blood at the Crucifixion. Later, Joseph creates a company that brings the grail to Britain to Avaron, called Avalon by later writers, and then identified with Glastonbury; Joseph himself does not come to Britain. (Why a French poet would have the precious grail and its contents go to Britain is a mystery.)

The story of Merlin introduces several new elements to the Arthurian legend. One is that the poem purports to be from a book by Blaise, who was dictated to by Merlin himself. (The illustration above shows Merlin dictating while Blaise writes.) The element that most interests us right now is that of the last part of the poem: Arthur's fitness to be king results from being the only one who can withdraw a sword that has been sunk into a stone. This is the first time such an event was introduced into the Arthur story. It is not, however, the first time we have seen the image of a sword in a stone.

Yesterday's post on Saint Galgano told the miracle of the sword in the stone, and that the sword is still in the stone and viewable by all. This would have taken place by 1181, the year of Galgano's death. de Boron is most likely to have been writing after that date. Stories of a miraculous sword embedded in stone would certainly have spread, and since de Boron (and other writers about Arthur) seem to have no difficulty in adding fanciful elements to the legend, it is highly likely that de Boron took a legend that was spreading throughout Europe and imagined it as a test of fitness sent by divine powers.

But while we are in the subject of the Grail, did you know it was once thought to be a stone? One more dip into the fanciful before we return to more grounded topics.

Arthur's Grave

In 1184, Glastonbury Abbey was devastated by a fire in the monastic buildings. A new Lady Chapel was consecrated in 1186, after which progress slowed down. Pilgrimages—and the donations they bring—had fallen off.

In 1191, however, an excavation on the grounds was undertaken, inspired by (we are told) information passed onto King Henry II from "an aged British bard." The excavation turned up a large flat stone. On the underside of the stone a leaden cross was attached. When the cross was detached, on the side facing the stone they found letters proclaiming Hic jacet sepultus inclitus Rex Arturius in insula Avallonia ["Here lies buried famous King Arthur on the Isle of Avalon"]. Several feet below this was found a large coffin made from oak containing a very large set of bones, along with a smaller set. These were understood to be Arthur and Guinevere.

Well, pilgrimages soared, of course. The relics and lead cross were put in the church; a few eyewitnesses mention them, but they are long vanished now. So...what was it about? Does anyone today really believe that King Arthur's bones were found under Glastonbury? If the king were involved, what was his return on the investment?

Arthur was considered a national hero, and legend said he would return in time of the nation's need. Henry wasn't British: he was the current monarch resulting from the Norman Conquest of Britain. He didn't even speak English. Some have suggested that his involvement was to discourage Welsh nationalism by showing that their legendary king was truly dead and would never return. I believed this for awhile, until I noticed the dates involved.

That idea doesn't quite fit history. The story that Henry had the clue to finding the body comes from Gerald of Wales, a historian writing a few years after the discovery. Interestingly, Henry had died two years prior to the excavation, so Gerald's suggestion that Henry got his information from that anonymous British bard seems spurious to me. It is more likely that the Abbey itself arranged this to increase attention and income.

Henry was a fascinating character in his own right, however, and worth looking at next time.

Magnus Maximus, Part 2

rom a 14th century Welsh Book of Hours,
this is thought to depict Maximus [link]

Yesterday we introduced Magnus Maximus, a general who briefly became ruler of much of the Western Roman Empire. Leaving the young Emperor Valentinian II in Rome, Maximus ruled over Britain, Gaul, Spain, and Africa.

He did things that did not sit well with his constituents, however. He is believed to be the first person to order execution for heresy when he executed Priscillian and six followers.* We are so used to thinking of the Middle Ages killing heretics that we would be surprised to know that this wasn't always common. In this case, St. Martin of Tours (mentioned here) tried to prevent it. On the other hand, when Maximus tried to censure Christians for burning down a synagogue, Bishop Ambrose of Milan condemned Maximus' decision.

Maximus also pushed his luck by driving out Valentinian II, who later, with the help of Eastern Emperor Theodosius I, returned and attacked Maximus, defeating him in 388 at the Battle of the Save (near modern Croatia). Maximus surrendered to his enemies at Aquileia; despite pleading for mercy, he was executed.

Maximus had family, and although we are not certain what became of all of them, we have some ideas, and legend offers another. His son, Flavius Victor, was strangled. His wife sought counsel from St. Martin, but we know nothing of her after that; we don't even know her name, although a popular Welsh legend calls her Elen. Maximus had a mother and daughters who were spared. One of his daughters, Sevira, is named on the Pillar of Eliseg as a wife of Vortigern. (The pillar was erected centuries after Vortigern, so we cannot be certain of the accuracy of the data.)

Later historians did not forget the story of a warrior starting in Britain and conquering Rome. They embraced him, and wove him into England's greatest legend. Accordingly, one of his grandsons was Flavius Ambrosius Aurelius, who had a son, Ambrosius Aurelianus. Depending on which ancient historian or modern author you pick, Ambrosius is either the uncle of King Arthur or is the figure on whom King Arthur is based.



*"Priscillianism" will be covered in the near future.

500

This is the 500th post on the Daily Medieval blog. In its honor, let us look at the year 500 CE and how it overlaps some of the previous 499  posts.

500 was a leap year. January 1st was a Saturday. July 4th was a Tuesday.

It was the birth year of Gildas, a monk, who wrote the De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae ["On the Ruin & Conquest of Britain"], a chief source of history for early Britain, although much is called into question. A life of St. Gildas written later by a friend of Geoffrey of Monmouth makes Gildas out to be a contemporary of King Arthur, and yet Gildas never mentions him. He does mention the Battle of Mount Badon, for which 500 is a possible date.

It is the year that Clovis I pursues King Gundobad of the Burgundians after a military engagement, forcing him to pay annual tribute.

It is the approximate date of the formation of the Kingdom of the Franks, that reached a high point a few centuries later with the family of Charles Martel.

It is the approximate birthdate of Aregund, whose jewelry provided an impressive grave excavation.

It is the birthdate of the Byzantine historian Procopius, from whom we learn how the West got the secret of silk from Nestorian monks.

500 was, of course, only the year according to the Julian calendar.
For the Romans, it was 1253 Abs urbis condita ["from the city's founding"].
Jews considered it the year 4260-61.
The Byzantines numbered years from the founding of the world, 5509 years before Christ, so to them it was 6008-09 (the year started on 1 September).

Thanks for reading!

Sir Thomas Malory, Crook

Today is the 543rd anniversary of the death of Thomas Malory. While the year 1471 might be a little late for the Middle Ages, Thomas Malory has an important role in our view of things that are medieval—one thing in particular.

from a 1405 French History of Merlin

Malory's claim to fame is as the author of Le Morte d'Arthur [Middle French: "The Death of Arthur"], a collection of romances published by William Caxton about King Arthur and members of his court. Most of the stories existed prior to Malory, but he added some original material to them. The details of the Morte are considered the primary literary source for modern re-tellings of the Arthurian legend. As with many authors, his actual identity has been the subject of speculation. There were several "Thomas Malory"s around the time, but we think we've narrowed down to the right one...

...and he was a criminal.

Probably born between 1415 and 1418, he was knighted by October 1441 and became a soldier under the Duke of Warwick. In 1443 he was accused of attacking a Thomas Smythe and robbing him of £40. Then, in 1450, he was accused of leading an ambush against the Duke of Buckingham. That same year, he stole items worth £40 from a house in Monks Kirby and raped the lady of the house.* In the next year or so, he became an extortionist, trying to get 100 shillings from one couple and 20 shillings from another man.

He committed many other offenses against both people and property, mostly against people we know to have been followers of the Duke of Buckingham, who was a rival of the Duke of Warwick. It is possible (but not, to a modern audience, excusable), that his actions may have been somehow sanctioned by his loyalty to Warwick.

This being the right Thomas Malory would explain the references to him in manuscripts as a "knight prisoner" and the statements at the end of some of the romances. One romance ends with "For this was written by a knight prisoner Thomas Malleorre, that God send him good recovery." Another ends with "And I pray you all that readeth this tale to pray for him that this wrote, that God send him good deliverance soon and hastily." It seems that Malory wrote while he had plenty of time on his hands—in jail.

It is ironic that the author of the collection of tales that exemplify the high ideals of chivalry was himself not a very chivalrous man.

*To be fair, "rape" was also a common accusation for consensual sex with another man's wife.

Marco Polo's Co-author

Page from Chapter CXXIII

Everyone is familiar with the story of Marco Polo, who traveled to the Far East, had amazing adventures, and returned home to be put in prison in Genoa because of local wars. In prison, he wrote a book of his travels, telling of things that were marvels to Western Europe.

What most people don't know is that Polo was not in prison alone. A fellow inmate, Rustichello da Pisa, was an author, without whose help what we call The Travels of Marco Polo might never have come to be.

We know little of the 13th century Rustichello. He was a native of Pisa, and might have wound up in a Genoese prison after the 1284 Battle of Meloria. He would have been there a long time when Polo was imprisoned in 1298 after the Battle of Curzola.

Rustichello had previously written a romance, called alternately Compilatione ["The Compilation"] or Roman de Roi Artus ["The Romance of King Arthur"]. It was a French version of a work in the possession of King Edward I of England. Rustichello must have had access to it while Edward passed through Italy in the early 1270s on his way to the Eighth Crusade.

But what was his involvement in Marco Polo's tale? Was he simply the scribe? According to some who read the book and Rustichello's other writings:

Everyone who studies Marco Polo acknowledges that Rustichello’s fiction-writing techniques and habits show up in the book, but critics writing in English tend to stop with a very few observations that are repeated faithfully from one study to another. [source]

He is also likely the reason that the original version was written in French, the language of romance literature, rather than Italian or Latin. The original title was Divisament dou monde ["Description of the world"]; an Italian edition was also called Il Milione ["The Million"}, but we do not know if that was intended to denote a million new things, or a million lies.