William on William

William of Poitiers (c.1020 - 1090) was born into a family of knights, and trained as a knight himself until his late 20s when he decided to turn to the priesthood. He studied in Poitiers and returned home "more learned than all his friends and neighbors" according to Orderic Vitalis. Orderic also says that William was made archdeacon of Lisieux, but his name does not appear in any official documents related to Lisieux, so Orderic's source was likely faulty. Orderic also says that William became chaplain to Duke William of Normandy (aka William the Conqueror), and that is how William of Poitiers is usually described.

Sometime after 1066 (probably in the 1070s), William started writing an account of the deeds of his patron. It is called Gesta Guillelmi ducis Normannorum et regis Anglorum ("The Deeds of William, Duke of the Normans and King of the English"). It is the earliest biography of a decent length of any Norman duke, and gives details on the Battle of Hastings. As a chaplain attached to the duke's household and a trained knight, William was in a unique position to relate the events of the duke's preparations for and execution of the war to conquer England.

To be fair, there are several passages that disproportionately praise or favor the duke' actions. When Orderic used the Gesta Guillelmi as a source for his own history, he left out those sections. William also follows medieval literary tradition by describing Duke William as the perfect embodiment of knighthood, with exploits such as the duke and 50 knights besting 1000 of the enemy. He also compares the duke's conquest of Britain to another famous conquest of Britain, that of Julius Caesar.

There are comments made by William that are unique to his account of the times that modern historians feel are accurate statements. Some are the notion that Harold had abundant treasure, and that a Danish raiding party gained "great booty"; this all suggests why England was such a target for raids in the 10th through early 11th centuries.

William also provides an account of early pre-conquest Norman society, with several rebellions in Normandy, as contrasted with the relative stability of England, where William says the English all showed love of their country and a stronger national identity and unity.

The fractured nature of the Norman culture was explained by a Benedictine monk in the 11th century. Tomorrow we'll look at the origins of Normandy, and why this land south of England was named for "North Men."

Group Projects

Taking sole credit for a written work was not always as important as it is to some authors today. 

William of Jumièges (c.1000 – post-1070) was a monk of Jumièges, a Bénédictine monastery. In the 1050s, he decided to take an earlier historical account to update and extend it. That work was De moribus et actis primorum Normannorum ducum (“Concerning the Customs and Deeds of the First Dukes of the Normans”) by Dudo of Saint-Quentin, completed between 1015 and 1026. As a recording of some of the earliest Norman nobles and their emerging dynasty, it is interesting, albeit inaccurate and interlaced with legend.

William of Jumièges tried to fill in the gaps between Dudo's time and his, and was able to write about William of Normandy invading England in 1066. His work becoming known to others, it is believed that William the Conqueror himself asked that William keep writing a history of his time and deeds. This new version, Gesta Normannorum Ducum ("Deeds of the Norman Dukes"), ends around 1070-71. (The illustration shows William presenting the work to William.)

A few decades later, another took up William's writing and decided to extend it. This was Orderic Vitalis. Orderic was but in Shropshire in 1075 to a priest at a time when clerical marriage was slowly being restricted. He became a Benedictine monk at the Abbey of Saint-Evroul in Normandy, becoming a script master and librarian. He is best known for writing a history of the Church.

His first attempt at writing was picking up the Gesta Normannorum Ducum and filling in the gaps between William and Orderic's own time. He also filled in more from earlier times, borrowing from something called the Gesta Guillelmi ("Deeds of William") by William of Poitiers. (William of Poitiers was a chaplain to William the Conqueror.) Orderic's section of the expanded Gesta is fairly balanced, since he could see things from both the Norman and English perspective.

A third author came along in Robert de Torigni, the abbot of Mont Saint-Michel. Robert was enamored of English kings—descendants of the Norman William, after all—and added much about William after the Conquest, the Abbey of Bec, and an entire volume on Henry I of England. He also borrowed from Henry of Huntingdon's historical work, who was not just an author but also an acquaintance of Robert.

The Gesta Normannorum Ducum was popular in the Middle Ages, being copied and distributed among many monasteries. There are 47 known manuscript copies of it known today. It was an important source for other writes such as Benoît de Sainte-Maure, a historian best known for the 40,000-line poem about the Trojan War. 

I've mentioned Orderic Vitalis before, and I'd like to talk more about him, especially his commissioned work on the history of the Church. See you tomorrow.

The Annals of Clonmacnoise

Clonmacnoise Monastery was an important place in the Middle Ages. Occupying a major travel route in the center of Ireland, it grew to a community of over a thousand at its height. Besides works of art and religious scholars, it produced a history of Ireland called the Annals of Clonmacnoise (in Irish: Annála Chluain Mhic Nóis).

To be frank, there are no original manuscripts remaining, and there is no firm evidence that it was produced at Clonmacnoise; however, it does focus on the parts of the country around Clonmacnoise—which was a center of learning and production of texts in Irish—and the clans that inhabited them. The Annals contain historical data on O'Kellys, O'Rourkes, O'Molloys, O'Connors, and McDermotts that we would not otherwise have.

The Irish Gaelic of the original was translated into English in 1627 by Conall MacGeoghegan, a descendant of Niall of the Nine Hostages.

This original manuscript, as well as the source from which it came, are both lost, but later edition copies of the translation exist in British and Irish museums. The translator noted that there were sections missing from the manuscript he had found (notably the years 1182-1199 and 1290-1299).

It begins "Adam in the 130 years of his age Begatt Seth, and afterwards Adam Liued 800 yeares & in all he lived 930 yeares." The first page quickly gets to Ireland:

This year of Lamech's age came the woman called Cesarea or Keassar accompanied onely with three men and 50 Women to this land which was the first habitacion of Ireland, though others say that this land was first Discouered and found by three fisher men who were sayleing in these parts of the world, and Because they made noe Residence in the land I will make noe mention of them.

There is scholarly demand for a modern edition to make the information contained available to more researchers.

I'm going to pick one brief entry for further talk. The sole entry for 670 reads "The Moone was turned into a sanguine collor this year." This was likely just a lunar eclipse. Did I say "just"? Lunar eclipses were of special interest to Christians and pagans. Let's talk about them tomorrow.

Aelred's Later Life

Aelred of Rievaulx took a successful abbey and made it even more grand (although the illustration will show that its fortunes have fallen somewhat, thanks of course to Henry VIII).

Rievaulx was intended at its founding by Bernard of Clairvaux to spread Cistercian reform ideas across the north. By the time Aelred became abbot (1147), the abbey was only about 15 years old, but already had five daughter houses in England and Scotland. Residents had to accept a life of physical deprivation in exchange for spiritual rewards. Aelred wrote a guide for novices called Speculum caritatis ("The Mirror of Charity"), warning them:

Our food is scanty, our garments rough; our drink is from the stream and our sleep upon our book. Under our tired limbs there is a hard mat; when sleep is sweetest we must rise at a bell’s bidding … self-will has no scope; there is no moment for idleness or dissipation … Everywhere peace, everywhere serenity, and a marvellous freedom from the tumult of the world.

Despite these conditions, by the end of Aelred's term as abbot, the abbey had doubled to 140 monks and 500 lay brothers.

He wrote extensively. He wrote biographies of King David I of Scotland, Saint Ninian (mentioned here), and Edward the Confessor. He also produced treatises on the life of Jesus at the age of 12, anchoresses, spiritual friendship, and other topics. There are several sermons that have survived, and histories of Genealogia regum Anglorum ("Genealogy of the Kings of the English"), Relatio de Standardo ("On the Account of the Standard"), and De bello standardii ("On the Battle of the Standard"), about the Battle of the Standard, and a couple on miracles, specially those connected to the Church of Hexham where Aelred was born. His treatise De spirituali amicitiâ ("Spiritual Friendship"), has prompted modern scholars to suggest that he was homosexual.

His job as abbot was to travel to the daughter houses regularly, and visit the general chapter of the Cistercians at Cîteaux in France once each year. This was difficult for him as he got older, especially since it appears he suffered from arthritis and kidney stones. His biographer, the Rievaulx monk Walter Daniel, reports that in 1157 he got permission to sleep in the infirmary rather than his own cell. He died in the winter of 1166-67, aged about 57. He is venerated as a saint by both the Catholic Church and the Anglican Communion. He is considered the patron saint of bladder problems; more recently LGBTQ Christians have embraced him as well.

Was there something particular about St. Ninian that made Aelred feel motivated to write his biography? And was Ninian even his name? Let's figure that out next time.

The Story of Montaillou

When French historian Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie (1929 – 2023) set out to write an account of a typical French medieval village, based on certain records of the time, he and his publisher had no idea that its 1975 publication would turn into a best-seller. Montaillou, village occitan de 1294 à 1324 ("Montaillou, an Occitan Village from 1294 to 1324"). Ladurie wanted to make accessible to a modern audience the lives and beliefs of this small village in the Pyrenees (near the border with the Iberian Peninsula) at the beginning of the 14th century. (The illustration is a much more recent view of Montaillou.)

It is a social history, also called "history from below," trying to understand the past through research into regular living rather than political or military history, or the lives of prominent figures at the top of the social-political pyramid.

He had a very specific reason for examining that particular place and time. The book was translated into English in 1978 with the subtitle "The Promised Land of Error / Cathars and Catholics in a French Village." The "certain records" mentioned in the first paragraph were those made by the Inquisition, specifically a group of documents called the Fournier Register. This was made by Jacques Fournier, the Bishop of Pamiers, in whose diocese Montaillou lay. This area was one of the last holdouts of the heresy Catharism, and Fournier was determined to eliminate it.

The Inquisition was quite careful in its procedures. During questioning of a subject, a scribe would take short notes. These would then be expanded more fully with the help of the Inquisitor, and the result shown to the questioned for review and edits. The Occitan language would also be translated into Church Latin. The result was a record of hundreds of commoners and their day-to-day observations and opinions.

One example of beliefs is his questioning of Guillemette of Ornolac, who was said to have doubted the existence of the soul. She offered the opinion that the "soul" was really blood, and that death is the end. When asked who taught her this, she replied "No, I thought it over and believed it myself." She was sentenced to wear a cross of yellow on her back for the rest of her life. Of the hundreds questioned—578 sessions, mostly with peasants—his inquisition resulted in only five capital sentences (being burned at the stake).

His thoroughness impressed his superiors, and he quickly advanced through the ranks. And that is why we have these early records so carefully preserved so that Ladurie could comb through them six and a half centuries later: Fournier took them with him when he went to Avignon. Why Avignon? He became pope. Let's take a look at Pope Benedict XII tomorrow.

Itinerary Through Wales

Gerald of Wales (c.1146 - c.1223) provided us with extensive information on Ireland and Wales and England of his time. Serving several Plantagenet kings, he traveled in their service and wrote about what he saw and was told. Two of his several works were the Descriptio Cambriae ("Description of Wales") and the Itinerarium Cambriae ("Itinerary Through Wales"). He claims fairness in his treatment of the subject of his homeland, splitting the Descriptio into two parts, first the virtues of the Welsh, then their vices.

His writing for the Itinerarium through Wales is also better informed than his Topographia of Ireland, since he spent a little time in only a few Irish locations and gathered stories from men he deemed "reliable." He was more familiar with Wales, and he did in fact have an itinerary (see the illustration).

This tour took place while he was accompanying the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1188, preaching to raise a Third Crusade. Gerald writes the Itinerarium almost like a daily journal, recording sights and experiences as he came across them, so it is a more reliable account of day-to-day life in Wales in the last years of the 12th century, and the remnants of Roman Britain:

We went through Caerleon, passing far away on our left Monmouth Castle and the great Forest of Dean, which is across the Wye, but still on this side of the Severn, and which supplies Gloucester with venison and iron ore. We spent the night in Newport. We had to cross the River Usk three times. 

Caerleon is the modern name of the City of the Legions. In Welsh ‘caer’ means a city or encampment. The legions sent to this island by the Romans had the habit of wintering in this spot, and so it came to be called the City of the Legions. Caerleon is of unquestioned antiquity. It was constructed with great care by the Romans, the walls being built of brick. 

You can still see many vestiges of its one-time splendour. There are immense palaces, which, with the gilded gables of their roofs, once rivalled the magnificence of ancient Rome. They were set up in the first place by some of the most eminent men of the Roman state, and they were therefore embellished with every architectural conceit. There is a lofty tower, and beside it remarkable hot baths, the remains of temples and an amphitheatre. 

All this is enclosed within impressive walls, parts of which still remain standing. Wherever you look, both within and without the circuit of these walls, you can see constructions dug deep into the earth, conduits for water, underground passages and air-vents. Most remarkable of all to my mind are the stoves, which once transmitted heat through narrow pipes inserted in the side-walls and which are built with extraordinary skill. [Chapter 5]

But then comes the less reliable (but no less interesting) detail (especially since he says "in our days"):

It is worth relating that in our days there lived in the neighbourhood of this City of the Legions a certain Welshman called Meilyr who could explain the occult and foretell the future. He acquired his skill in the following way. One evening, and, to be precise, it was Palm Sunday, he happened to meet a girl whom he had loved for a long time. She was very beautiful, the spot was an attractive one, and it seemed too good an opportunity to be missed. 

He was enjoying himself in her arms and tasting her delights, when suddenly, instead of the beautiful girl, he found in his embrace a hairy creature, rough and shaggy, and, indeed, repulsive beyond words. As he stared at the monster his wits deserted him and he became quite mad. He remained in this condition for many years. Eventually he recovered his health in the church of St David’s, thanks to the virtues of the saintly men of that place. 

All the same, he retained a very close and most remarkable familiarity with unclean spirits, being able to see them, recognizing them, talking to them and calling them each by his own name, so that with their help he could often prophesy the future.

The story does not end there. He offered numerous instances of Meilyr's ability to see and speak to devils and demons and learn things from them.

Despite the more fanciful anecdotes, as a record of daily life among the Welsh and Normans, it is a valuable account for modern historians.

As I mentioned, he served several Plantagenets, and we'll take a look at what he thought of Henry II and his sons before we move on. See you tomorrow.

Gerald of Wales

Gerald of Wales (Giraldus Cambrensis, c.1146 - 1223) was a priest and a writer of history. That could be the introduction for many of the folk mentioned in this blog. Gerald was a bit different, however, in that he was the offspring of very prominent nobility and was employed by royalty for much of his life.

He was of both Norman and Welsh descent, a child of the conquerors and the conquered. Educated at the Benedictine house at Gloucester, he was employed by Becket's successor, Richard of Dover, and trusted to manage affairs in Wales such as abuses of consanguinity laws and Welsh church finances. After revealing the existence of a mistress of the archdeacon of Brecon, Gerald was appointed to replace him. The position had a small estate at Llanddew, allowing Gerald to collect tithes of wool and cheese.

His lifelong goal was to become Bishop of St. Davids in Pembrokeshire, Wales. When his uncle (then Bishop of St. David's) died in 1176, the chapter nominated Gerald. King Henry II rejected Gerald's appointment; he may have thought Gerald would be too independent—Wales was hoping to split from the authority of the Archbishop of Canterbury—and Henry had just got over the troubles he had as a result of Becket's martyrdom. Henry appointed a loyal Norman retainer, Peter de Leia. Gerald was also cousin to Rhys ap Gruffydd, a Welsh lord who was understandably hostile to Norman rule. Peter de Leia's relationship with Gruffydd was less than amiable, and Henry liked it that way.

Gerald's historical account includes this (possible) statement from Henry:

It is neither necessary nor expedient for king or archbishop that a man of great honesty or vigor should become Bishop of St. Davids, for fear that the Crown and Canterbury should suffer thereby. Such an appointment would only give strength to the Welsh and increase their pride.

Gerald consoled himself by leaving the country. He spent a year at the University of Paris, studying and teaching canon law and philosophy. In 1180, back in England and continuing to study theology, Bishop Peter de Leia offered him a minor position in the Bishop's household, which he at first accepted but shortly gave up.

Where he becomes of greater interest to modern scholars is in 1184 when he was asked by King Henry to mediate between the Crown and Rhys ap Gruffydd. After, he was sent with Prince John to Ireland, which led to his first important writing: Topographia Hibernica ("Topography of Ireland," although it was mostly history). Not long after he wrote Expugnatio Hibernica ("Conquest of Ireland"), the story of Henry's military campaign there. Both works were revised several times during Gerald's lifetime. 

This was the start of both his writing career and his work with several kings. We'll pick up with his map of Ireland—and how his writings were influential right into Tudor times—tomorrow.

Matthew Paris

Matthew Paris (c.1200 - 1259) was a Benedictine monk at the Abbey of St. Albans, known to us for his numerous illustrated written works. We do not know why his surname was "Paris"; we have no record of him studying or living there, although given the era in which he lived it is not surprising that he wrote in either Latin or Norman French.

He was an Englishman who did get sent to Norway once to reform a Benedictine monastery on the island of Nidarholm. This gave him an opportunity to be an eyewitness to events surrounding King Haakon IV. His status as an eyewitness to history of his time is what makes him so valuable (although we are sure bias crept into some of his work).

His major work was the Chronica Majora, borrowing from Roger of Wendover's Flores Historiarum, but adding his own observations from 1235 on. An abridged version, his Historia Anglorum covers the years 1070 through 1253. There is a manuscript version which also includes the final part of the Chronica Majora covering the years 1254-1259, all in Paris's handwriting except for a last entry making note of Paris's death and having an illustration of him on his deathbed.

All the other illustrations in his writings are by him, and he had decent skill at drawing. Seen here is the most detailed map of four he produced. Another, showing the trip from London to Rome with sketches of some towns along the way, can be seen here. A picture of a beheading is here.

Paris lived while Henry III was King of England, and records many events from his reign. Paris and Roger of Wendover relate their concern about the increasing percentage of (French) foreigners coming to England. Paris and Henry met in 1236 and kept in touch, but Paris did not approve of the direction the reign was going and his account of Henry's actions is often unflattering.

One of Henry's actions that Paris might have approved (I say might)—and the modern world would certainly condemn—is Henry's "Statute of Jewry." I'll tell you about that next time.

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.

The Early Modern Period

I've offered my own idea of when the Middle Ages ended, but of course there are other ways to look at it. I suggested specific events taking place in or around 1453, but we can look at the Middle Ages not just about specific events so much as it was about cultural norms.

At the foundation of this question—and all discussions about periods in history—is whether you can accurately establish periodization at all. One of the first to "break up" the flow of events was Leonardo Bruni, mentioned as a tutor of Lorenzo Valla. Bruni has been called the first modern historian, and was the first to define human history as three periods: Antiquity, Middle Ages, and Modern. He was influenced by Petrarch, who described the glorious Classical Roman period versus the post-Classical tenebrae or "darkness." (This may have been the origin of the popular modern term "The Dark Ages.")

For Bruni to describe "Modern" as his lifetime (c.1370 - 1444) may cause us to smile, but of course it was modern to him...and may in fact still be considered the start of the Modern Era. Was there a shift in something in the 1400s that allows us to think of it as the start of our own era?

What trends or cultural shifts were significant enough—and continuous enough—to motivate modern historians to say that the Modern Era started in the 1400s? What was so different? We talk about the Renaissance as a rebirth of art and culture, but there was more:

•Globalization, with the expansion of mercantilism and sophisticated international economics
•The Age of Exploration/Discovery, with increased travel and improved methods of transport
•Religious dissent, and the development of secular policy
•The decline of feudalism, and the development of civic politics

The point is not just that these were different from what came before, but that these changes are still in place. Many of the changes that started in the 1400s are still with us, making the argument that what makes us "modern" and not "medieval" has in fact been going on for about six centuries, not just two or three.

A modern medievalist named Nancy Partner once said that if Medieval Studies wanted more respect from historians in general, they should start calling the Middle Ages the "Really Early Modern Era." Well, that may be stretching it, or maybe not, at least when it comes to the English language. Of the 1000 words most commonly used in Modern English, 83% come from Old English. Tomorrow I'll give you one idea of how much Old English you are speaking on a daily basis.

The Venerable Bede

Start typing the word "venerable" into a search engine on the Internet and one of the options offered will be "venerable Bede." He was a monk, and the author of Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum ("Ecclesiastical History of the English People"). This work was considered so important that it has survived in countless copies and translations.

Bede (Beda, Bæda) was born about 672-3 o lands belonging to the monasteries of Monkwearmouth and Jarrow in Northumbria (now Wearside and Tyneside). Because the name Beda appears on a list of kings of Lindsey in Northumbria, and because of Bede's obvious connections to notable men, we think he came from a well-to-do family, possibly royal.

He was sent to the monastery at Monkwearmouth at the age of seven as a puer oblatus ("a boy oblate" or "boy dedicated to God's service"). At the time, the abbot was Benedict Biscop. Some years later he went to Jarrow, which was dedicated on 23 April 635. A plague in 686 left only two survivors at Jarrow who knew the holy services, Abbot Ceolfrith and a young boy. Bede would have been about 14 and was likely that boy.

Bede was ordained a deacon earlier than the typical age of 25, indicating exceptional ability and respect earned. He became a priest at the age of 30. In started writing about 701, with De Arte Metrica ("On Metrical Art" [meaning poetry]) and De Schematibus et Tropis ("On Figures and Tropes"). Once started, he did not stop writing, producing works and translations to explain history, the church, church services and religious trappings, the Bible, histories of saints, histories of abbots of Jarrow, and far more.

One of his works created a stir: in De Temporibus ("On the Times," meaning the ages of the world), he calculated that Christ was born 3,952 years after Creation. The generally accepted feeling was Isidore of Seville's opinion that the length of time was more than 5,000 years. Some monks complained to Bishop Wilfrid of Hexham (mentioned here). Wilfrid did not share their concern about Bede, but a monk who was present relayed the event to Bede, who wrote back explaining his calculations and asked the monk to share his thinking with Wilfrid. Regarding dates: the use of Anno Domini ("Year of the Lord") to count years since the birth of Christ was introduced by Bede. Bede also writes extensively on the controversy over the proper dating of Easter Sunday.

We know from a letter written by a disciple of his, Cuthbert (not St. Cuthbert) that he began to feel ill, his breathing became labored, his feet began to swell. He asked for a box of his things to be brought to him, and gave away his possessions, described as "some pepper, and napkins, and some incense." He died 26 May 735, his body being found on the floor of his cell that morning.

In 1899, Pope Leo XIII named him a "Doctor of the Church," the only native Englishman to be given that title.

Although Bede's literary output and life have countless points from which I could find a link to tomorrow's blog post, I wanted to talk about the pracrive=ce of handing a seven-year-old over to be raised by strangers in a monastery. Next time.

The Laffer Curve

That is an odd headline (and topic) for a blog on the Middle Ages, but let's push on and see where we wind up. The Laffer Curve (named for Arthur Laffer, illustrates a "a supposed relationship between economic activity and the rate of taxation which suggests that there is an optimum tax rate which maximizes tax revenue." [New Oxford American Dictionary] Arthur Laffer acknowledged that Ibn Khaldun essentially defined what we now call the Laffer Curve in his best-known book, Al-Muqaddimah ("Introduction").

We know quite a bit about Ibn Khaldun (27 May 1332 - 17 March 1406) because he wrote an autobiography. Born to a wealthy Arabic family, he was able to trace his ancestry back to the time of Mohammed. He had a classical Islamic education, memorized the Koran, and studied law and Arab linguistics. He also learned mathematics, logic, and philosophy. While in his teenage years, both parents died in the first big wave of the Black Death.

He started his political career at the age of 20 in Tunisia, producing fine calligraphy on official documents, but shortly after moved to Fez as a writer of royal proclamations. There he fell out with the sultan while scheming to advance himself and went to jail for 22 months. After getting out, he was not getting the attention he felt he deserved in terms of jobs, and decided to move to Granada. The Sultan of Granada gave him a diplomatic mission to King Pedro the Cruel of Castile, which Ibn Khaldun carried out successfully. Eventually getting involved in too much political intrigue, he left for Ifriqiya, where the current sultan had been Khaldun's cellmate! The sultan made Khaldun his prime minister. In 1366, that sultan died, and Khaldun allied himself with a different sultan, who was defeated a few years later, upon which Khaldun decided a monastic life was best. He continued to get involved in politics, however, always finding ways to anger someone.

Regarding his works, Al-Muqaddimah was the first part of a seven-volume work that included a world history up to his time. The socio-economic-geographical approach to describing empires is considered by 19th and 20th century scholars as the first ever writing in the social sciences. Khaldun explains that there is a group solidarity that enables small groups to grow in power, and yet become their own worst enemy and eventually fall from power and be overcome by another tightly knit group. He had similarly ahead-of-his-time ideas about economics.

I will leave the discussion of Ibn Khaldun (for now at least) with one more thing: his apt description of government as "an institution which prevents injustice other than such as it commits itself."

A large part of his historical work involves the Berbers, and I will talk about them in the next post.

Andrew Wyntoun, Scot

When Robert Burns published his Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect (1786), no one knew that it would become such a success that the reading public would be eager to lap up anything old and Scottish. But 1790 saw the publication of the Orygynale Cronykil of Scotland, by Andrew Wyntoun.

Wyntoun (c.1350-c.1425) was an Augustinian canon of St. Sers Inch, a religious house  of Loch Leven, as well as a poet. The Chronicle is very pro-Scotland, especially regarding Edward I and his treatment of William Wallace and Scotland.

The Chronicle starts in the distant past (Alexander the Great, ancient Britons) and ends in 1420. It contains a number of "firsts": it is the earliest extant document in the Scottish dialect; it has the first use of the word "Catholic"; also, it contains the first mention in print of Robin Hood that ties him to a particular time (1283) and an area just south of the Scottish border in Carlisle. Tales of an outlaw who hides out in the woods and harasses the English king were of interest to the Scots, especially after William Wallace et alia did the same after Dunbar and Falkirk. It also includes the earliest version of MacBeth and the three witches.

Since Time Immemorial...

[source]

We have heard the phrase "since time immemorial" to refer to an origin of some practice or belief embedded so far back in the past that its validity cannot be questioned. Interestingly, this is not just a vague term, because it has been specifically defined—more than once, as it happens.

William Blackstone, an English jurist (1723-1780) used the phrase "Time whereof the Memory of Man runneth not to the contrary." In England in 1832, this definition was adopted into law. If there was no record or (honest) personal recollection to the contrary, then a law or practice would remain unchallenged.

"Time immemorial" existed prior to 1823 or Blackstone, however.  In 1275, the first Statute of Westminster—a collection of 51 clauses—determined that the time of (let's call it "modern" for its time) memory began on 6 July 1189, the coronation of Richard I Lionhearted of England. Events since then could likely be attested to using the records and memory of people. Any practice that existed prior to that was decreed to be so far back that contesting it was not worthwhile.

So there you have it. If it existed more than 826 years ago, don't bother arguing its validity. (In English law, anyway.)

The Y1K Problem

One example of the "white mantle of churches"

So...the Venerable Bede suggests that time be reckoned since the year of Christ's birth. People start numbering years. They start to notice a disturbing trend: they are approaching a big even number: 1000. Ralph Glaber lived through this traumatic transition, and left us an account.

Born in 985 in Burgundy, at the age of 12 his monk uncle found him a place in the monastery of Saint-Léger-de-Champeaux for education and discipline, but he was expelled for bad conduct. He later joined the Benedictines at Cluny, becoming a monk of his own accord. He later lived at two other monasteries. He died in 1050. His life's work was a five-volume chronicle called Historiarum libri quinque ab anno incarnationis DCCCC usque ad annum MXLIV ["History in five books from 900 to 1044"]. His Latin was far from elegant, his grasp of historical facts was far from accurate, and yet the history he wrote provides us with insight to the mood of the time.

And that mood was dark and dire. Glaber saw corruption everywhere:

Warned by the prophecy of Holy Writ, we see clearer than daylight that in the process of the Last Days, as love waxed cold and iniquity abounded among mankind, perilous times were at hand for men's souls. For by many assertions of the ancient fathers we are warned that, as covetousness stalks abroad, the religious Rules or Orders of the past have caught decay and corruption from that which should have raised them to growth and progress.. . From this [covetousness] also proceed the constant tumult of quarrels at law, and frequent scandals arise, and the even tenor of the different Orders is rent by their transgressions. Thus also it comes to pass that, while irreligiousness stalks abroad among the clergy, froward* and incontinent appetites grow among the people, until lies and deceit and fraud and manslaughters, creeping abroad among them, draw almost all to perdition!

After the millennium was survived, however, he lets us know that the world changed for the better:

It was as if the whole world were shaking itself free, shrugging off the burden of the past, and cladding itself everywhere in a white mantle of churches.

The phrase "white mantle of churches" has entered the lexicon of medieval imagery, and is remembered and used in print more than Glaber's darker imagery of the corruption leading up to the year 1000.

*FYI: "froward" is not a typo; it means "to lead away/astray"

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!

Life with the Huns

A 6th century Roman politician named Jordanes turned to writing history in his retirement. He wrote Romana, about Rome, and Getica, about the Goths (of whom he was one). He is the best contemporary source we have for information about the Goths.

In the Getica he tells us about one of the rivals of the Goths, the Huns. He obviously looked down on them as savages (I imagine this was similar to the way Romans looked down on Goths when the Goths approached Rome to conquer it). He claims that their origin was with the Goths themselves, when a Goth ruler expelled witches from the tribes. These witches wandered until:

There the unclean spirits, who beheld them as they wandered through the wilderness, bestowed their embraces upon them and begat this savage race, which dwelt at first in the swamps, -- a stunted, foul and puny tribe, scarcely human, and having no language save one which bore but slight resemblance to human speech. Such was the descent of the Huns who came to the country of the Goths. [Goths, Chapter 24]

The Huns were ferocious in actions and appearance:

For by the terror of their features they inspired great fear in those whom perhaps they did not really surpass in war. They made their foes flee in horror because their swarthy aspect was fearful, and they had, if I may call it so, a sort of shapeless lump, not a head, with pin-holes rather than eyes. Their hardihood is evident in their wild appearance, and they are beings who are cruel to their children on the very day they are born. For they cut the cheeks of the males with a sword, so that before they receive the nourishment of milk they must learn to endure wounds. 

Hence they grow old beardless and their young men are without comeliness, because a face furrowed by the sword spoils by its scars the natural beauty of a beard. They are short in stature, quick in bodily movement, alert horsemen, broad shouldered, ready in the use of bow and arrow, and have firm-set necks which are ever erect in pride. Though they live in the form of men, they have the cruelty of wild beasts. [Ibid.]

Jordanes had no trouble describing them as inferior despite the problems they caused for Rome. Tomorrow we will look at what happened when the Huns under Attila turned their sights back to Rome five years after they negotiated a treaty.

Conjoined Twins

from a 1499 woodcut by Jacob Locher

Hippocrates was aware of the phenomenon of conjoined twins, and offered an explanation: the male provided too much seed for just one being and yet not enough for two.

Whatever the reason, antiquity and the Middle Ages were well acquainted with this occurrence. Not everyone would have had opportunity to see an example of conjoined twins—there's no evidence that Hippocrates himself ever saw or "treated" such a case—but some who did witness the phenomenon wrote about it. One eyewitness was Leo Diaconus, or Leo the Deacon.

Leo the Deacon was a Byzantine historian who was born about 950. After 992 he started a history of the Empire, for some reigns of which he is our only source. His writing style has been criticized, but his facts have not. He reports:

At this time male twins, who came from the region of Cappadocia, were wandering through many parts of the Roman Empire; I myself, who am writing these lines, have often seen them in Asia, a monstrous and novel wonder. For the various parts of their bodies were whole and complete, but their sides were attached from the armpit to the hip, uniting their bodies and combining them into one. And with the adjacent arms they embraced each other’s necks, and in the others carried staffs, on which they supported themselves as they walked. They were thirty years old and well developed physically, appearing youthful and vigorous. On long journeys they used to ride on a mule, sitting sideways on the saddle in the female fashion, and they had indescribably sweet and good dispositions. [Leo Diaconus]

The pair lived for several years, apparently making appearances around the Eastern Empire (perhaps earning money for some 10th century P.T.Barnum). Eventually, one twin died.

...skilled doctors separated them cleverly at the line of connection with the hope of saving the surviving one but after living three days he died also. [Theophanes Continuatus]

A history written in the 11th century has an illustrated page for the case of these conjoined twins. You can see the pictures here.

[Today's post is inspired by a recent item on medievalists.net, a blog I recommend.]

Nithard, the "Bastard" Historian

Nithard, as Abbot of St. Riquier

Charlemagne, looking around for suitable political marriages, chose a likely source of a bride for his son, Charles. He suggested to King Offa of Mercia (c.730 - 26 July 796) that one of Offa's daughters marry into the Frankish royal family. This would have made a very nice connection, and might ultimately bring part of England under Frankish rule in the future. Offa suggested an additional proposal: marrying his son, Ecgfrith, to Charlemagne's daughter Bertha.

Charlemagne was so insulted by the idea that he broke off ties to England and refused to allow English ships to land at Frankish ports. Charlemagne was very wary of the idea of allowing his daughters to marry, lest they produce potential heirs to the throne that created future problems. He had no plans to marry any of them off.

The daughters, however, were not isolated, and two of them seem to have found "arrangements" that suited them. Rotrud bore a son, Louis, to Rorigon the Count of Maine. Bertha had a relationship with Angilbert (later an abbot, and even later a saint!) that produced two sons, one of whom was Nithard.

We don't know much about Nithard's upbringing. He was well-educated, as all Carolingian children with connections to the Court would be, but whether it was at the palace school or under his father at the Abbey of St. Riquier isn't known. He was made abbot of St. Riquier like his father, and aided his cousin Charles the Bald in the conflicts that occupied the descendants of Charlemagne.

We remember Nithard now for his historical works. He wrote four books on the history of the Carolingian empire after Louis the Pious. His Historiae or De dissensionibus filiorum Ludovici pii ["History" or "On the Dissension of the Sons of Louis the Pious"] provides an excellent firsthand account of the conflicts—not always accurate or unbiased, but detailed in ways only an eyewitness to the events could produce.

So far as we can tell, he died of wounds received during a battle in June 844. When Angilbert was exhumed in the 11th century, and his body found to be uncorrupted (lending aid to the idea of his canonization), Nithard's body was found with him.

The Walking Dead

Orderic Vitalis (1075-c.1142) has been mentioned here and here for his history writing. The 13 books of his Historia ecclesiastica ["Ecclesiastical history"] told many tales of his time that had nothing to do with the Church. One of his anecdotes is truly outré.

While discussing some of the travails of William Rufus, he interjects a tale of a priest of Lisieux that took place on 1 January 1091. The priest, heading home at night from visiting a sick man, heard a loud noise coming along the moonlit road, as of an army. He decided to flee toward some trees in a field to hide himself, but as he ran toward them*

he was stopped by a man of enormous stature, armed with a massive club, who, raising his weapon above his head, shouted to him, "Stand! Take not a step further!" The priest, frozen with terror, stood motionless, leaning on his staff.

The giant stands by his side and awaits the arrival of the crowd making the noise.

a great crowd of people came by on foot, carrying on their heads and shoulders, sheep, clothes, furniture, and moveables of all descriptions, such as robbers are in the habit of pillaging. All were making great lamentations and urging one another to hasten their steps. Among them the priest recognized a number of his neighbours who had lately died, and heard them bewailing the excruciating sufferings with which they were tormented for their evil deeds. They were followed by a troop of corpse-bearers, who were joined by the giant already mentioned.

But there was more after this:

Then followed a crowd of women who seemed to the priest to be innumerable. They were mounted on horseback, riding in female fashion, with women's saddles which were stuck with red-hot nails. The wind often lifted them a cubit from their saddles, and then let them drop again on the sharp points. Their haunches thus punctured with the burning nails, and suffering horrible torments from the wounds and the scorching heat, the women pitiably ejaculated, woe! woe! and made open confession of the sins for which they were punished, undergoing in this manner fire and stench and unutterable tortures for the obscene allurements and filthy delights to which they had abandoned themselves when living among men.

He then sees a knight on horseback, who stops to speak to him, revealing himself as the priest's brother, and says:

"You deserve to die, and to be dragged with us to partake of the torments we suffer, because you have rashly laid hands on things which belong to our reprobate crew; no other living man ever dared to make such an attempt. But the mass you sang to-day has saved you from perishing. It is also permitted me thus to appear to you, and unfold to you my wretched condition. After I had conferred with you in Normandy, I took leave of you and crossed over to England, where, by the Creator's order, my life ended, and I have undergone intense suffering for the grievous sins with which I was burdened."

There is more (I have placed the whole story here). After this experience, the priest falls ill, but recovers to live another 15 years.

Orderic claims that he was told this tale directly by the priest who experienced it.


*Excerpts all from The Ecclesiastical History of Orderic Vitalis, trans. Thomas Forester, 1956.