Knighthood in the 14th century

Today there are many differing mental visions of the Medieval knight, some wildly romanticised and others more realistic - if we only knew what that reality was. Perhaps it is never possible to strip away the intervening hundreds of years and view anything as it was or was felt to be in the 14th century.

For that reason I am basing this post on Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales with its portrait of a knight in the General Prologue. I am greatly indebted to Terry Jones and his disruptive book Chaucer's Knight for much of what follows. 

He argues that, by the time Chaucer wrote, the ideals of knighthood had become so tarnished that the concepts of chivalry and honour were no longer applicable. This allied with the rise of mercenaries who, instead of being permanent, trusted members of a lordly household, were temporary, paid warriors, They may or may not have fulfilled their contracts and could be a scourge in peacetime, idly but violently roaming the countryside and causing havoc.  

At first reading, the knight seems to embody all the high ideals of "chivalrye, Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisye". Many of those words had a much more powerful impact then then now, perhaps "trouthe" in particular, because it had a wider and more profound sense of the individual's vowing his entire self-hood to his own integrity.

Then Chaucer describes his modest, worn outfit and lists the many battles at which he was present. Until this book, all scholars had taken this to mean that he was a brave fighter but not flamboyant. Jones probes in forensic detail and finds that the clothing denotes a paid soldier, perhaps fallen on poor times, and that the battles were bloody massacres of innocent people. The line below, which had always been taken at face value, now seems pointedly and bitterly sardonic, focused on the word "gentil" which encapsulated all possible goodly qualities, Jesus being the prime example:

     He was a verray, parfit, gentil knight.

This view means that the sarcastic portrait is of an unscrupulous mercenary and satirical in intention, like most of the other depictions in the General Prologue (excepting the parson and his brother, the ploughman). The satire is aimed less at the character than at the decline in his or her profession. Chaucer is lamenting the debasement of old standards.

I am convinced by this argument although it has recently been modified by scholars - yet never disproved. It was such a shake-up of the previous academic version that I, cynically, feel that embarrassment would prevent compliant agreement in the ivy-clad universities, who could not or would not believe that the co-director  of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, also director of Monty Python's Life of Brian, could teach them anything about history. Ball now in their court, say I. 

Another fact that moves me to accept the satirical interpretation is the presence of "doodles" in the margins of Medieval MSS which depict snails fighting knights and holding their own. Their antennae are as long as the swords and the purpose must be to cast knights as feeble and no better in derring-do than a humble snail. The name is a misnomer because the art works are detailed and beautifully drawn and painted. it's well worth a doodle Google.

The Jesse window in St. Mary's Priory Church, Abergavenny

Ten years ago I wrote about the huge statue of Jesse, father of David, from whom Jesus descended. This extraordinary figure, carved from one solid piece of oak which could have been 400 years old when felled, was the base of his family tree and is the only wooden one in the U.K., possibly in the world. The progeny would have ascended upwards from the reclining Jesse.

Here you can also see the bottom of the Jesse window and it seems fitting, after a decade, to give an account of it. It was created by Helen Whittaker in memory of the late Dean Jeremy Winston and was dedicated on the 7th of July 2016, in the presence of H.R.H, Charles, then Prince of Wales. Helen made sure that light from the window would not adversely affect the statue beneath by having UV-protection glass on the lower part.

The window is rich in symbols and emblems, placed in a geometrical scheme of overlapping circles (vesicas) spreading out from the heart of Jesus. A vine with brown leaves connects the tree to its foundation from Jesse. Green oak leaves representing Wales' ancient woodlands are in the outer section.

At the top, on a larger scale than anything else, sits Mary with baby Jesus on her lap. Moving your eyes downwards you see King Solomon and David, who is playing a Welsh harp, with Ruth and Bathsheba. By Solomon's side are Zadok and Nathan, names familiar to all music lovers. On the lower branches we see Adam, with the snake and in despair, and Abraham depicted with the stick and dagger with which he might have sacrificed his son. Positioned around are Isaiah, Daniel, Elijah and Moses, who is holding the tablet with the 5th commandment: honour thy mother and father.

In the centre, around and above Mary and Jesus, come roundels representing aspects of the lives of 7 Celtic saints, including Beuno, Gildas, Winifred, Padarn, Non and Teilo. Saint David is also visible.

At the bottom are medicinal herbs, grouped according to the ailments they treated, and connecting the window to the monastic Abbot's garden outside.

I visited the church with a friend and we spent a good hour sitting on a front pew decoding the window with the help of a detailed booklet, purchased at the entry desk from a member of staff, always ready to answer questions. It was a most worthwhile experience and left a deep and lasting impression on us both.

Afterwards, coffee and CAKE in the excellent Tithe Barn cafe just across the path. I have written about this Barn in another post. 

Wall hangings in St. Mary's Priory Church, Abergavenny

As you enter the door to the church, pause and look behind you. There are two superb wall hangings in beautiful colours and full of symbolism. These are the work of Elizabeth Brown who designed and hand made them in 10 months, busying herself 4 to 6 hours most days. The fabrics (some of which date from the 1920's) include silks, satins, cloth of gold, brocade, crash, linen, cotton and wool. She describes these works as her Magnus Opus and they are indeed a great work.

Whilst i have used the term "symbol", I think a more apposite word is "emblem" which implies a more precise denotation.. Forgive me if the photographs are taken from ground level but, at 87 and with restricted mobility, I was not ready to climb a ladder even if one were offered - and the idea is that you visit yourself and gaze in wonder.

The left-hand hanging

This depicts the hand of God at the top emerging from the darkness - which I interpret as the original Chaos. Below is a dove, emblem of purity, and beneath the bird is the Tree of Life. (I think of that as connected to the family tree of Jesus which once stood above the world-famous reclining statue of Jesse at the far end of the church). A river flows past 12 bulrushes representing the 12 apostles.

The right-hand hanging

At the top is an angel blowing a trumpet. In the Great Chain of Being, angels came between God and humans, all of which are above animals, plants and minerals. Then are depicted a ram (a reference to the story of Abraham and Isaac) and an ox, emblem of strength and majesty. Beneath the ox are 3 vessels for wine, water and oil, followed in a downwards direction by a honeycomb containing 33 bees, one for each year of the life of Jesus. At the bottom is a net of fish with the connotation of the secret symbol used by early Christians partly because it was easy to draw with two lines and also because it is an an acronym for the Greek for Jesus Christ, God's Son, Saviour: ICHTHYS. Many of the disciples were fishermen and one of the miracles is the feeding of the 5000 from 2 fishes and 5 loaves of bread.

I do hope I have induced you to visit the Church and spend time decoding the hangings. Since this blog encourages public transport, I can tell you that there are good bus connections to Abergavenny and a railway station a decent walk from the town. We always reward ourselves with a slice of home made CAKE after our viewing and you may indulge yourself at the excellent Tithe Barn cafe, just opposite.  This has its own fascinations. some of which i have mentioned in another post. You can use the Search button to read about this and more about the church itself.

The Caerleon Amphitheatre revisited

Yesterday, on a cold March afternoon, I went back to Caerleon for a guided tour with Mark Lewis. Fluent, approachable and totally in charge of his material (3 hours without notes) he brought the site alive, covering the amphitheatre, barracks, museum and baths
The legacy of the Roman occupation here goes through the medieval to the modern: the second Augustan legion was in Caerleon for 200 years, this fortress being one of only 3 in the UK. The others were Chester and York.
The present church in Caerleon is the centre of the 50 acre site which  still includes the barracks and baths and did have granaries which held enough grain for a year. A tile has been found with an image of Mercury, guardian of grain. We can assume that by AD 90 the Silures were tamed.
The most fascinating part of the tour for me was the amphitheatre. Until the 1920's the area was simply an undulating circle thought to be King Arthur's mound. When Mortimer Wheeler was demobbed, he was a lecturer at what was then Cardiff University but always had his eye on Caerleon even whilst excavating other sites. This was a prime target because digging would not involve the demolition of houses and he thought it would attract funding, which happened after a thrilling midnight meeting with a representative of the Daily Mail.  They bought the field and guaranteed money in return for a daily report and Wheeler's wife, an excellent archaeologist herself, was in charge. 30000 tons of material were removed and this is the most completely excavated site in Britain.

The amphitheatre is not a defensive structure as can be deduced from the fact that it towered above everything else. It was a merely a base and would not have withstood a siege.
Its alignment has aroused interest but there seems to be no particular solar factor. It is possibly aligned to the birthday of Augustus, September 23rd, when the eagle was paraded and is a ritual space asserting the dominance of state over the individual. It places man as superior to beast and order as higher than disorder. This enacts the principles of the Roman state.


A few odd facts about the arena. The vomitaria were not where the terrified gladiators threw up but where the crowds spewed out. The animals involved would have been bears, wolves, wild boar and stags from the local woods. In a niche is a statue of Nemesis and the last deed before entering the arena would be an offering to her. Merged with her is Diana, goddess of sudden death. Curse tablets found would suggest the lack of an effective justice system.
The whole construction would have looked rather like the Globe Theatre and its overarching purpose was to keep Caerleon Roman via rituals. A wooden amphitheatre could be erected as easily as a modern marquee with so much labour to hand; the later stones were all marked with names of soldiers. The site has few altars but the drain still works after 2000 years, flowing smoothly into the river. It could seat 6000 men for the games which went on for several days.
The Welsh kings respected the links with Rome but the Marcher lords lost the connection. It fell in 1217 and there is evidence of ethnic cleansing. Now it attracts huge interest and is an exciting educational resource.

14 crosses at St Teilo's Church

   As water is the natural environment for a fish, so I am at home on a bus but ... When a friend offered to take me for a fascinating visit in a zappy yet stylish yellow and black car named Toby Trekker how could I refuse? The invitation was backed by the irresistible promise of a large slice of CAKE afterwards. Although normally I write about sites at least 600 years old and St. Teilo's church dates from the 14th century, the objects that enthralled me were the 14 modern crosses in the churchyard.  These were the inspiration of one female parishioner and are most definitely call for a detour.
  They are grouped in a circular walkway and form a tour of the Old and New Testaments with relevant texts and references to the wildflowers growing in the beautifully kept borders between them. They are all made of oak except for the Cross of St. James which is hewn from yew. The whole churchyard is maintained so as to provide a rich and diverse habitat for plant and animal life: its own ecosystem has been supplemented by introducing flowering shrubs, plants and bulbs which provide food for insects. As part of the Living Churchyard project they have developed an upper and lower river path where you can view some of the 26 different species of tree found in the churchyard. There are 5 war graves, four from WWI and one from WWII.

   The crosses range from the very simple to the quite ornate but they are quietly harmonious in style. They are, in order: the Maltese cross; Orthodox; Cross of Nails; Syrian; Japanese; St. Andrew's; Ankh; San  Damiano; Ethiopian; St. James the Greater; Tau; Roman; Jerusalem and Celtic. To give just one example of the scholarly yet uplifting information offered, I will quote about the Celtic Cross from the free leaflet. The text given is Acts 17: 27-28, the story of Apostle Paul preaching to the people of Athens. He talked to them about creation and their own ideas of the gods and quoted local poetry This cross is associated with Celtic nations whose understanding of the gospel and creation includes a strong sense of nature. The flower connected with it is Viper's Bugloss (Echium vulgare - Genesis 3). The long protruding stamens make the flower resemble a snake's head. The story from Genesis reminds us of the glory of creation and nature but how in our desire to better ourselves we fall into temptation.
  The crosses were carved by Ant Beetlestone (www.antbeetlestone.com)

   The church itself is full of interest and it is worth attending the Open Day on September 8th 2018 to absorb it and be able to answer the quiz questions such as where you can find a pineapple and where the spelling of Katherine's name been corrected. If you answer them correctly, you too are allowed CAKE. The whole site in Llantilio Pertholey was an ancient centre of Christian worship: the yew on the south side of the churchyard has a girth of over 22 feet and is estimated to be 1200 years old. Parking is just opposite and the whole area is tranquil and green. Please check their website before visiting: http://www.stteiloschurch.org.uk/welcome.htm

Llangybi Castle: huge and ruinous

Photo courtesy of Joan Bennet

   Llangybi Castle had the largest inner courtyard of any castle in England and Wales - and possibly in Europe - measuring 150 by 80 metres (500 by 250 feet in old money.) At present it is a ruin and there are no plans to maintain it. It is privately owned and, although it lurks quite near a public footpath, it is essential to ask the proprietor's permission to visit.
   I was lucky enough to be taken on a guided tour by the forester of the estate, Les Taylor, who was a cornucopia of fascinating information, not only about the castle, but also about the trees we walked past. He explained that it was never a true fortification but more of a glorified hunting lodge.
   We started at the house and appealing stable block, the latter built in the French style and containing dove cotes. Nearby had been a motte and bailey and a fish pond. The present castle, built by the powerful de Clare family, possibly started by Bogo de Clare (at last a different forename!), was mentioned by the Bishop of Hereford in 1262. It was probably still incomplete when Gilbert de Clare V was killed at Bannockburn in 1314. Les handed out a sketch, an artist's impression of the original building, showing round crenellated towers, buildings within the vast courtyard, curtain walls and a drawbridge with genuine Medieval people crossing. The drawing is copyright and I am no Picasso and so you will have to use your imagination.

 During the tour we were invited to enter the garderobe chamber where a four-seater loo would have been flushed by water from sluice holes in the roof. Certain intrepid members of the group marched in and our leader was relieved when the head count was satisfactory afterwards. Les also pointed out putlog holes in the north wall and told us that they were where logs were put (get it?) for scaffolding. The wood was sawn off and the chunk remaining in the wall eventually rotted and left the holes. This solved endless arguments I have had about the purpose of these characteristic square gaps - not, it seems, for hiding your sweetmeats in.
   The family lived in the monumental twin-towered gatehouse and kept their important documents in a room with a highly decorated arch.

Photo courtesy of Joan Bennet

The castle, sometimes called Tregrug, was, like so many others, slighted by the Roundheads in 1648 during the Civil War, after having been fortified for defensive purposes. We were then taken around the surrounding woodlands where we learned about the capacity of redwoods to withstand fire and saw a hazel nut shell hollowed out by a dormouse which had left its characteristic serrated marks at the edge. Les is an enthusiastic proponent of managing woods to maintain the health and longevity of the trees.

Photo courtesy of Reg Darge

The old castle was the subject of an investigation by the Channel 4 Time Team in 2020. They concluded that the ditches surrounding the walls were Civil War defences and that the castle had been extensively remodelled in the 17th century to provide a new main entrance and to landscape the area inside the walls as a "pleasaunce" containing gardens and fountains.

Llangybi is on the bus route of the no 60 but, without the owner's permission, nothing is visible from the footpath. I have written about the lovely little eponymous village in another blog post. You are not far on the bus from Raglan Castle, also more of a residence than a fortification and also slighted in the Civil War. If you do visit Llangybi you will have to take your own CAKE or press on to the cafe near Raglan Castle.

Longtown Castle - a little known treasure

   My loyal readers (love you all!) know that I visit castles only by bus except when some kind person offers to drive me and buys me CAKE afterwards. That is how I found this little known gem in Herefordshire in glorious April sunshine. Because there is no pay desk and shop selling wooden swords you feel you have discovered it for yourself when arriving through the dramatically framing arch.
  The view of this motte with its keep on top is powerful - and very exciting when you realise you can climb the steps and have wonderful views of the countryside around and the Black Mountains. If your children and dog are reluctant castle goers and promises of CAKE have not won them over they will love the sense of discovery and freedom here.
  Of course that is not the reason it was built because the Marcher Lords had not invented afternoon tea and were averse to peace.

   Longtown Castle dates from around 1175, was built by Hugh de Lacy, a successful favourite of Henry II (of Roland de Pettour fame) and is characteristic of the Welsh borders, having a circular keep, rarer in England. It is set in the picturesque Olchon valley, background to a what-if historical novel by Owen Sheers called Resistance. As usual the first castle on the site was  a wooden structure (with some stone) which was probably thrown up extremely quickly on its man-made earthen mound. The Lacey's (spelling a matter of choice it seems as is typical of early English) then spent the prodigious sum of £37 improving it and the impressive stone structure you see dates from the 12th century. A circular keep was stronger than a square one as it is difficult even for a geometrician to find a corner to undermine - but this one has shallow foundations sloping slightly outwards for stability. The construction is shale rubble with ashlar detailing. It was known as Ewias Lacey castle and the site may have been important already as a defensive position on its spur of high ground. Outer earthworks suggest an Iron Age settlement and the Romans probably came here also on their nearby straight road. It may have been late Saxon but it is certainly recorded in the 1086 Domesday book as belonging to the Lacey's. They demanded honey and pigs from their tenants and so one may deduce they were clearly fond of sweetened roast pork. Yummy!

  The Lacey's were Medieval warlords and, like other Marcher Lords, independent of control from the crown.  By and large the Marcher Lords were given a free hand provided they kept the dastardly natives in check. When this lordship ended in the 1230's the castle had a succession of owners. In 1233 Henry III visited and ordered the garrison to be enlarged. Like many other castles, it was further fortified by Henry IV in 1403 to withstand the attacks of the Welsh rebel, Owain Glyn Dwr. 

  It fell into disuse perhaps because of the effect of the Black Death in the mid-14th century when Longtown (a planted Norman town like Usk) also shrank in importance and size. 

The most prominent feature is the stone keep on its 33 ft high motte with its 5-metre thick walls (16 feet in old money) which would have been a two-storey structure over an undercroft and providing accommodation on the second floor. There are windows, probably enlarged in the 14th century, a fireplace, corbels to support floor beams and a projecting 7-seat latrine which weakened the structure. Is imagining that enough to put you off your CAKE? In the gatehouse you can easily see the portcullis slot.  Outside were 3 semi-circular towers, one with a chimney flue and one with a spiral staircase, the collapse of which caused the deep breach. There would have been a curtain wall on the steep bank to the left of the steps and, unusually, 3 baileys and 2 large enclosures to protect the town. 

I particularly liked the fine stonework in the walls and the thrill that there was a gallows here until 1790. Less fascinating is the existence of a school in the 19th century. Typical of the Medieval desire to confuse us is the fact that there were 2 men called Walter de Lacy. Are you still interested? They did seem short of names in the Middle Ages - all those Llewelyns! 

For more information about the Marcher Lords click here. For Usk as a planted town click here. To laugh and rejoice at Roland le Pettour and other intriguing facts about farting in the Middle Ages click here. For more than anyone needs to know about Owain Glyn Dwr click here and on the other links given in the article.

   

Sir John Oldcastle: fact and fiction

(I have a real problem with finding out the copyright of images and have no wish to be imprisoned without CAKE for illegally using one - so here is an OK photo which has little to do with the case. Anyway no-one cares what Sir John Oldcastle looked like and we all know what his fictional counterpart resembled.)

Sir John Oldcastle is believed to have been born at Oldcastle in Monmouthshire (sounds a good theory to me) and certainly he was a man of Hereford. He was an early friend of Henry V and a Lollard leader, escaping immediate punishment for his heresy because of this royal connection.
Lollardy was current in Herefordshire and followed the teachings of John Wycliffe in particular, being critical of the Roman Catholic Church and promoting a Bible in the vernacular. Oldcastle was imprisoned in the Tower of London but escaped, organised a rebellion against the king and was executed after 4 years hiding in the Welsh Marches.

An anonymous Elizabethan play entitled The Famous Victories of  Henry V starts with the period of Henry's youth, portraying it as riotous and leads to his transformation into a warrior king, victorious at Agincourt and a wooer of Princess Katherine. You will spot that this drama - believed to be Shakespeare's source material - covers the 3 plays in the Bard's Henriad, (Henry IV pt i, Henry IV pt.ii, Henry V.) Amongst the Prince's band of merry chums is one called Jockey (Sir John Old-Castle). C.A Greer has identified 15 plot elements that appear in the later trilogy, including the Gad's Hill robbery, the Eastcheap tavern and the new king's rejection of his former boozy companions.

This play seems to be a stepping stone in the creation of a character out of the historical religious zealot to become Shakespeare's fictional Falstaff who, in my opinion, assumes in our imaginations a more powerful reality than many actual people. As well as being one of the most comic characters ever imagined, he stands for Riot and insurrection against values such as honour. His decline from lovable rogue through unscrupulous impresser of ragged soldiers to shameless sponger is one of the great achievements in English literature. The scene where King Henry repudiates him is truly shocking and the description of his death - probably from a broken heart - deeply moving as he feels cold from the feet up, calls to God and is assured by the Hostess that he does not need to think of that. Ironic when his source is recalled.

More on Henry V may be found on this blog by using the search button. In particular, further Shakespearean echoes have an article to themselves. The preparations for the invasion have also been covered.
 I have written a complete (?) analysis of Henry IV pt i on my website Classics of English Literature. You need and deserve a huge slice of CAKE whilst reading. I'd be thrilled if some of you did go there.

Local Monmouthshire lad goes to France - what did Henry V take with him?

On 11th August 1415 Henry V and his army sailed for France and the rest - as they say - is history. In Shakespeare's play he nips over the Channel (after an interminable explanation of the justifying Salique law, the famous scene with the tennis balls and the execution of traitors) with a couple of almost photographic Choruses. These invoke the enthusiasm amongst his followers who leave their "silken dalliance" in the wardrobe, sell their pastures to buy a horse, give business to the armorers, think only of honour and then wing it with the speed of thought. Whilst the ship-boys climb the hempen tackle, the "huge bottoms" breast the "lofty surge." The Bard does not mar the dramatic effect with numbers or logistics but the preparations for this invasion were immense, not to be matched until Operation Overlord, more than 500 years later, and all the more amazing considering the period.

The king needed money in vast amounts to pay for men, ships, arms and food for a projected year-long campaign. Taxation income and loans from all possible sources were inadequate and he had to guarantee payment to soldiers beyond the first 3 months before indentures could be struck on 29th April. (These were papers of service divided into 2 by unique irregular tooth-like cuts, which could be pieced together when needed.) He gave the captains jewels as security for the second 3 months with a pledge for redemption by January 1417. Loans came in (earlier Dick Whittington had previously lent £2000) from individuals, towns and religious communities until our financial wizard monarch raised the equivalent of £70 million by, some would say, mortgaging the future of the country.
  The production of arms was well under way, the machine gun of the day being the dreaded longbow, formidable when in the hands of highly trained men, particularly those of Henry's home county, Monmouthshire/Gwent. All men had been obliged to practise after Mass on Sundays and holy days. Archers made up about three quarters of the army but swords, lances, cannon and the more traditional siege weapons such as the trebuchet and mangonel were included, all of which had to be manufactured and shipped. Armour, made in separate pieces (which Shakespeare invokes later with his mention of the sounds of hammers riveting), was not as heavy as is sometimes believed but had to be well-fitted and worn over a thick jacket. The Channel was cleared of enemy ships and home defences such as castles and other fortifications were strengthened and, of interest to us in Wales, Owain Glyn Dwr was sought for in an attempt to quell insurrection.

   Wages were set but the destination kept vague. Henry needed a long-term army of professional fighting men. 600 leather bags ordered to contain the indentures and related documents. A duke would receive 13s 4d a day, an earl half that, a baron 4 shillings, a knight 2 shillings and an archer sixpence. They were paid quarterly in advance. This was far above what the bowman would be paid in his unskilled trade and everyone could hope for more after a battle. Although Henry was strict about looting (we recall the scene in Shakespeare when he becomes enraged at the slaughter by the French of his boy guards for their "luggage") there were ransoms and the indentures stated how spoils would be divided out.
   There were probably about 600 ships as a basis and, in a requisition reminiscent of Dunkirk but enforced, all ships of 20 tons or more, whether foreign or English, from eastern ports were pressed into service. More than 1000 were impounded. These would carry, not only soldiers, but wagons, horses, grooms, farriers, wheelwrights, cooks, minstrels, men of religion and surgeons as well as cattle and the produce of bakeries. This was not to be a chevauchée where men lived off the land. There were around 12000 combatants and hundreds of ships were needed just for the horses.
   The muster took place on 1st July, the king made his will on the 24th and he gave orders for embarkation on the 29th. All was ready for August 1st but, the day before, 3 conspirators were found who had to be tried before execution: Cambridge, Grey and Scrope. Then, free from treachery and backed by the Salique law, our Monmouthshire lad set off in the flagship, the Trinity Royal, on his huge and minutely planned mission on August 11th 1415.

I am particularly indebted for the detail here to Henry V  by Teresa Cole. More information on the formidable longbow and other Medieval combat weapons may be found by clicking on those links and more on Monmouth Castle, birthplace of Henry V. More on Shakespeare's handling of Henry V can be found.

Licence to Crenellate - Medieval planning permission

  If you have lain awake at night for weeks on end waiting for planning permission for a new extension to your house, you might be in the same tense frame of mind as a Medieval knight wishing to add some battlements to his stately home. From the 12th to the 16th century, anyone wanting to add castle-like fortifications to his pile was required to have permission, usually from the king. A normal enough longing, one might think since these features almost define our sense of what a castle is, but the matter was more complex than that, which is why Sir Edsomething de Whatever had to apply for a licence.
You might ask why someone would want these costly embellishments: crenellations, drawbridge, portcullis. murder holes etc. and, in some cases, it was probably for show and to astonish the neighbours. An Englishman's home was not his castle without battlements. True fortification may have been the reason in the earlier part of this period but later there is reason to believe that the motive was to keep ahead of society and make the interior as sumptuous as possible also.
  The king, however, had strong motives to be careful and choosy. No ruler, particularly one in times of trouble - and these were turbulent years in many areas - wants rich and influential men adding to their power and becoming capable of attacking him or defending themselves more efficiently. Such licences had to be carefully vetted and the nobleman had a better chance of approval if he could claim that his new fortifications would help him to support the king's interests against enemies of the crown.

Bodiam Castle, everyone's notion of a prototypic castle. is a good example of military additions as semi-ornaments. Its features would not have been invulnerable to attack: it was built 10 miles from the river Rother which was not particularly open to hostile forces; its moat could be drained quite easily; the windows are larger than usual for defensive purposes; the battlements are rather small in places; the gatehouse, though boasting machicolations, could have been avoided by forces who could nip round and enter at the back and - wait for it - there is no keep. The owner, Sir Edward Dalyngrigge, received permission, however, from King Richard II, to "strengthen with a wall of stone and lime, crenellate and make into a castle his manor house at Bodiam, next to the sea, for the defence of the adjacent country and resistance to the king's enemies." Clearly Sir Edward had glossed over a few matters (such as a 10 mile march) in his application (which did not include a clause about that ghastly bunting.)

  Richard's secretaries were men of few words compared to those who wrote the licence from Edward IV in 1482 to Sir Edmund Bedingfield of Oxburgh in Norfolk which repeats the phrase "embattle, kernel and machecolate" like some magic charm throughout and is a precursor to modern official waffle. Yet, surprisingly, there was often no fee and, if one were demanded, it would be a mark at most. Usually it was knights who applied in order to enhance their status and move up the social ladder, but 11 women are mentioned in the surviving licences and 4 were granted directly to women. Although most applicants were individuals, 28 licences relate to town defences and 44 to churches, abbeys and cathedrals. Of the 1500 castles in England, the surviving licences refer to only 500 sites - did some aspiring noblemen sneak in their battlements, a few at a time, hoping no-one would notice?

I actually find this bureaucratic aspect of Medieval life fascinating and have written a poem about the knight dreaming of his newly endowed abode: I place a bet of a large slice of CAKE that no-one else has versified this topic.

He dreams of stones, of castles - not in air
But grounded, rooted sternly on his land,
Flaunting his prowess, trumpeting his flair.

He'll lord it over neighbours. He has planned
Apartments, chambers, warmed and richly hung
With tapestries, endowed by his strong hand.

His vision grew the windows, crystal lungs
Of this great body; now his rapid heart
Beats at its cords. They throb, too tightly strung.

This grand design, this mental work of art
Must pause or stop as he waits for his king.
A regal nod could crown his hopes: "Now start ...

... The statement of your power, the scaffolding
Of wealth, supremacy" - but everywhere
The villeins chafe. The tail. The hidden sting.

For more on Bodiam Castle click here. If you enjoyed this poem and would like to read more of my work - on less arcane topics such as love - click here for my Formal Poetry website.

Davy Gam: hero or traitor?

If the name Davy Gam seems vaguely familiar to you, it may be because you actually concentrated during the part of Shakespeare's Henry V where the king reads out the names of those killed in the battle of Agincourt (more correctly Azincourt.) After a list of French noblemen with dashing Gallic titles, he turns to a second paper, handed to him by the herald, and notes the deaths of 4 men, the last of whom is Davy Gam, esquire. To the monarch, he is amongst those "of name", meaning that the rest were squaddies, a mere "five and twenty" of them. Perhaps this seems a little snobby for a king who, before the battle, when egging them on, claimed that they were all a "band of brothers" - but even then he was aware that this group included each of the men, "be he ne'er so vile." (Hal, as prince, frequented the ale houses but dropped his drinking mates as soon as he donned the crown). Yet he did go around, in disguise, chatting to the ordinary soldiers the night before. Davy Gam was clearly an aristocrat and, interestingly in this literary connection, some believe him to be the model for Fluellen, the slightly comic but knowledgeable military supporter of the king, who praises him and claims common kinship as a Welshman.  He has read all about the glorious battles of Edward, the Black Prince of Wales, Henry's great-uncle.

Who was he - and why do we want to know?
In case you thought you were getting off lightly pronunciation-wise, part of his full name was Sir Dafydd ap Llewelyn ap Hywel and he lived from approximately 1380 to 25th October 1415. "Gam" is one of those merry Medieval nick-names which draws attention to some physical flaw such as short legs (Curt-hose) and probably means that he was lame. We still have the expression "gammy leg." Rather mysteriously the Dictionary of Welsh Biography thinks it means that he squinted or had only one eye but I find it difficult to fathom how he managed to be a successful warrior with that defect.

  He was a prominent opponent of Owain Glyn Dwr and a supporter of the English king, which made him a traitor from the Welsh point of view. Bearing in mind the destruction that Glyn Dwr's rebellion caused in Wales, it is easy to see why some men were hostile to him. Dafydd could add to the pedigree already mentioned "Fychan ap Hywel ap Einion Sais" but probably told people "just call me Gam." His background locates him round Llanover in Monmouthshire and Pen Pont near Brecon.  Some think he was previously in service to John of Gaunt and had to leave Wales after killing a rival in Brecon High Street. Rumour also places him in Hen Gwrt, near White Castle.

Hen Cwrt

Dafydd Gam was previously paid annually 40 marks (a large sum) by the royal estate and the family's loyalty to the king caused their lands near Brecon to be attacked by the rebels. Another local point of interest is that he was named, by the Scottish Chronicler Walter Bower, as the leader in the critical and crushing defeat of Glyn Dwr's men at the battle of Pwll Melyn near Usk. His local knowledge may have helped the English victory and attracted Welshman to his cause. When captured in 1412 he was quickly ransomed for somewhere between 200 to 700 marks, a large sum indicating the regard in which he was held. He had made a forced promise to Glyn Dwr never to oppose him but, on release, he told King Henry where the rebel was and attacked him, suffering reprisals such as the burning of his house. Another less likely story is that he attacked Glyn Dwr's parliament in Machynlleth in 1404.

Agincourt
  He probably fought with Henry V prior to the French battles but certainly served with three-foot archers (that disposes of the squint theory in my opinion) in the Agincourt campaign. Several chroniclers noted his death in that encounter but no-one agrees as to whether he was knighted then or posthumously. There is a legend that he saved the king's life during the counter-charge of the Duke of Alencon (whose name appears on Shakespeare's death roll of the French) when Henry was fighting hand-to- hand with him. The Frenchman lopped an ornament from Henry's crown with his sword and Dafydd led a group of Welsh knights to intervene. Some believe he killed the Duke before being killed himself.
  In the 19th century George Borrow wrote of him: "he achieved that glory which will for ever bloom, dying, covered in wounds, on the field of Agincourt after saving the life of the king, to whom in the dreadest and most critical moment of the fight, he stuck closer than a brother." Borrow also quotes descriptions of him, supposedly included in satirical englyn (you don't want to know, really you don't) written by Glyn Dwr: "he was small in stature and deformed in person. though possessed of great strength. He was very sensitive of injury, though quite as alive to kindness, a thorough-going enemy and a thorough-going friend." There is a stained glass window commemorating him in the church at Llantillio Crossenny, where the Latin inscription calls him a golden-haired knight. He is also a chief character in the novel Owen Glendower by John Cowper Powys.

If you DO want to know about englyn (and you have only yourself to blame for asking), here is the Wikipedia definition: "... it uses quantative metres, involving the counting of syllables, and rigid patterns of rhyme and half rhyme. Each line contains a repeating pattern of consonants and accent known as cynghanedd." That clarifies that, then. Oh yes - and the plural is "englynion".

My thanks to Wikipedia for much of this information and two of the images.
Hen Gwrt is now a small moated ruin and very atmospheric, quite near the equally charismatic White Castle, one of the Three Castles in the area. Grrr  - you do need a car to get to both but there is excellent walking nearby to earn you your CAKE. You can, however, visit the site of the crucial battle of Pwll Melyn by travelling to Usk by bus and walking up past the castle which you can look at en route.

Christmas Poem

I hoped you would like to read a poem about a modern but traditional Christmas that I wrote some years ago before starting my history blog.

But once a year ...

 ... it comes, with spiced breath, lugging golden bags
of secret foraging from High Street stores
with packaged cubes of gift wrap, glitzy tags;

tucks berried sprigs on pictures, over doors,
gilds cards with instant merriment, then makes
a forest emblem, shimmer-lit. It draws

snow scenes on windows, sprinkles icing flakes
of sugar on mince pies, shortbread and calls
a warning to the children still awake.

Throughout this night a frosted silence falls,
the shambling magic beast has done its trick
again. The waiting time is here and all

the sleepers are the same as minutes tick
toward the dawning of coincidence:
the morning walk in new scarves; kisses; quick

large slurps of sherry; crackers; grand entrance
of turkey to red faces, paper hats
and hopeful dogs. We join the the pretence

that goodwill in the pudding feeds us fat
enough to lose a careless bit each day
until December - when the pit-a-pat

of Christmas padding comes once more to play
The wind is cold, next year is far away ...
the creature's begging. Why not let it stay?


If you enjoyed this terza rima verse, you might like some of my other poems on my website Formal Poetry and other idiosyncrasies. The topics range from love, poems about gardens to science and gender relationships. They all rhyme and many are humorous. For my account of a Medieval Christmas (in prose!) click here. Have a good time, everyone, many thanks for reading my work - back to castles, CAKE and Roman remains in the New Year.

The Medieval Christmas - would you have enjoyed it?

Food and drink
   As you look forward to a giant nosh on 25th December, you will recollect that at least 2 popular items were unavailable in the Middle Ages. Potatoes and turkeys were late-comers to these islands and the birds have been regretting their arrival ever since. What DID they eat in the great mansions and castles?
   On Christmas Day 1347 at Hunstanton in Norfolk, Sir Hamon le Strange and his household consumed bread, 2 gallons of wine (12d), 1 big pig for the larder (4s), 1 small pig (6d), a swan which was a gift from Lord Camoys, 2 hens given as rent and 8 rabbits of which 2 were gifts. If this does not seem much - read on.
   The bread for the lord in any important dwelling would probably have been made with white flour, so precious that it was sometimes stored in a locked chest and the lower orders consumed brown rye bread. All roasted poultry and animals demanded specific ways of carving: a mallard was "unbraced"; a heron "dismembered"; a coney "unlaced" and a hen "spoiled." This delicate work was done by rushlight. Other ingredients might be venison, fawn, kid, bustard, stork, crane, peacock, sparrow, baked quinces, damsons in wine, and a range of vegetables used in sauces rather than served independently. The wine could be Rhenish, Gascon or Spanish and Sir Hamon seems almost teetotal when we recall that Chaucer was allowed a gallon every normal day. No wonder The Canterbury Tales rip along and were never finished!

Entertainment
   William of Malmesbury relates how, on a Christmas night, 12 carollers (holding hands in a circle and skipping around the leader who sang) danced around a church and persuaded the priest's daughter to join them. He uttered a curse so that their hands became inseparably joined and, when the son ran out to save his sister, her arm broke off like a rotten stick. Better keep to Scrabble, say I.

   Yet there would have been music, dancing and performances of "disguising games" - in these plays, the emphasis was on roles exemplified by masks rather than words and scripts. Heroes were pitted against evils such as legendary giants. Edward III was so enthusiastic about these that, for Christmas 1338, he ordered 86 plain masks, 14 with long beards, 15 baboons' heads of linen, 12 ells of canvas to make a forest, a wooden pillory and a cucking [sic] stool. In 1347 he required similar but with some masks as women, angels, dragons' heads, pheasant heads and wings, swan's heads plus starry tunics, whilst, in 1348, he took part in such a mumming himself, dressed as a giant bird. We are going to try all this ourselves this year instead of charades - I have bagsied the role of huge avian.

Role reversal etc

  In the spirit of satire and merriment, household roles would be upturned so that a menial servant could become the lord and give orders to the higher ranks. This period of misrule lasted until January 6th, Twelfth Night. It is an entertaining idea and was no doubt hilarious in enactment, but it represents a serious belief in The Wheel of Fortune. All humans were attached to this wheel, spun by the blindfolded goddess and no-one could be sure of holding his or her position on it as it rotated: the fate of any one individual did not depend on virtue but on chance. The concept permeates King Lear although the play most representative of the traditions is, of course, Twelfth Night, which was first performed at the end of an elongated Christmas period on 2 February 1602 (Candlemas) and whose subtitle is What You Will, suggesting misrule. In it Sir Toby Belch and his cronies (mere guests) upset the order of Olivia's household - love and cross-dressing overturn everything else, including gender roles. The riotous habits of the aptly surnamed Sir Toby were stressed along with musical interludes whilst Malvolio, embodying austerity, is humiliated. Sir Toby's language probably contains obscene slang.
   It is likely that this period, from Christmas to Epiphany, seemed particularly dreary, rainy and frost-bound and so was transformed into a long holiday. Services required of villeins were suspended and manorial servants received their "perquisites", bonuses of food, clothing, drink and firewood, their traditional seasonal due. On Christmas Eve the Yule log, a massive section of tree trunk, was brought in and kept burning for 12 days. If the tenants were invited, they ate food mostly provided by themselves on their own dishes. (Does this explain how Sir Hamon managed to be relatively miserly?) A bean was hidden in a CAKE or loaf and the finder became king of the feast.
  If all this makes our dash to the supermarket seem a little soulless, remember that, in 1251, Matthew Paris complained that Henry III not only economised on Christmas expenses but demanded costly gifts from his subjects, staying in more lowly households which had to honour him with splendid entertainments and gold or silver cups or jewelled necklaces. I think I'll settle for the family crackers and quiz after all.

My personal memory of Christmas past
 After midday dinner all my relatives would arrive by taxi as no-one had cars and we settled down to gambling at unsophisticated card games and a well-worn horse-betting set-up called Backeroo. Tea consisted of cold chicken sandwiches and trifle: even during post-WWII rationing, my mother managed these (although obtaining lard was problematic). What I remember, apart from losing my pennies - this was not a child-centred epoch - is the horrid, sticky nature of the cards which developed little black greasy circles through over-use because of the paper shortage. Even now I marvel that you can buy lovely glossy playing cards so cheaply and actually enjoy handling them. (When she was plucking and dressing the fowl, my mother gave the infant me a claw to play with and I would pull the tendons to make it clench and relax. I have grown up to be quite unsqueamish and averse to gambling.)

You can read about entertainment provided by Roland le Pettour in the household of Henry II or search using the appropriate button on this blog for information on several great houses and castles in Monmouthshire and beyond. 2018 could be the time to follow me on Twitter (New Year resolution?) @BarbaraDaniels6. There is an intimidating list of books I have consulted on the right of each article but here I am especially indebted to Ian Mortimer and Joseph and Frances Gies.

Llewelyn ap Gruffydd Fychan

Llewelyn ap Gruffyth Fychan (easy for you to say!) is not to be confused with anyone called merely Llewelyn ap Gruffydd or the man called Gruffyth ap Llewelyn. If that makes you feel like a cup of tea and slice of CAKE, please go and indulge before reading on but bear in mind that "ap" in Welsh is a patronymic and tells you the name of the father of the person. Over time is has become reduced to a "p" and appears at the beginning of surnames like "Probert", son of Robert, or "Pugh", son of Huw (clearly the speakers were too out of breath climbing mountains to pronounce their h's.)  As you eat your CAKE you will think of others: Powell etc. Yet do not practise the initial "ll" sound simultaneously with your chocolate sponge - save that till later (the CAKE or the practice). Then put the tip of your tongue up against the hard palate behind your two top front teeth and say "ff" and you will make that genuine clicky sound that the Welsh have used for years to terrorise the English. Shakespeare got away with Fluellen and that was probably a wise move to make the leek-wearing warrior a popular, likeable and pronounceable character.

  My regular and devoted readers (love you all) who are endowed with a sharp acumen and instinctive faff filter will, by now, have concluded that I am flannelling (pronounced normally) and they will be right. We do not know much about him. What we do know is derived from our local and under-exposed hero, the chronicler Adam of Usk, Adda o Frynbuga. The other very tricky thing about Welsh is that the consonants change at the beginning of a word according to obscure grammatical rules intended to keep the English good targets for mockery when they attempt to learn the language. Brynbuga is the Welsh for Usk and the "b" has here become "f" - this cunning dodge makes use of a dictionary a teasing challenge for foreigners.

   Llewelyn ap Gruffydd Fychan (Vaughan) of Cayo in Cardigan, lived from 1341 to 9 October 1401 and joined the revolt against Henry IV, led by Owain Glyn Dwr. Adam calls him a "man of gentle birth and bountiful, who yearly used sixteen tuns of wine in his household". Because he was "well disposed" towards the rebel cause, he was executed in Llandovery on the feast of St. Denis, October 9th, "in the presence of the king and his eldest son, and by his command, drawn, hanged, and beheaded, and quartered." It is not crystal clear whether the son was Hal, the future Henry V of Monmouth, or Llewelyn's.  (He probably had 2 sons fighting in the rebel forces.) By the standards of the period, he was quite elderly when tortured in this way. It must be noted that 16 tuns is a remarkable amount of wine and suggests that much generous tippling with guests went on annually on the rich household. Another story tells that Llewelyn deliberately led the English forces the wrong way whilst pretending to take them to Glyn Dwr but Adam merely states that he "willingly preferred death to treachery."

   In 1998 a campaign was started in Llandovery to construct a memorial to this rebel, sometimes called the "Welsh Braveheart". Money was raised locally and from the Arts Council of Wales and, after an exhibition of proposed designs in 2000, a public vote secured the commission for Toby and Gideon Peterson of St. Clears (pronounced "Clares"). I do not know what the others in the competition would have been like but this is the most impressive statue I have ever seen as it stands on the motte of the ruinous castle overlooking the car park. It is 16 ft tall and made of stainless steel which glows in the sun and glowers in cloud: on its base of Cayo stone, it is a figure with empty cloak, helmet and armour representing both the universal nature of Llewelyn's actions and the violence of the mutilation of his body. You will have noted that the drawing of the entrails was the first torture, during which he would have been alive. The artist described it as depicting a "brave nobody."
  Even I, tireless devotee of public transport, would not really suggest a pilgrimage from the east especially but, if you are going to Pembrokeshire on the A40, do stop in Llandovery car park and eat your sarnies gazing at the statue and climb up afterwards to admire it in detail. It is simply stunning.

I have written about Owain Gly Dwr and his rebellion (as has Shakespeare!) and about Adam of Usk who seems little recognised as an important Medieval chronicler, though I am delighted that my blog post has received hundreds of hits. Henry V and Monmouth Castle are the subjects of other articles here. "Llan" at the beginning of Welsh place names means "church" or parish usually of a particular saint (Llandeilo, just down the road and very pretty, means "parish of St. Teilo") but here refers to the meeting of 2 rivers. It is twinned with Pluguffan in Brittany (finish your CAKE before embarking on that one.)

The Monmouthshire Warrior in the Middle Ages

 The medieval fighters of Gwent/Monmouthshire
  We know a certain amount from various sources but one seminal writer on the topic is Giraldus Cambrensis who toured Wales with Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1188. He kept a kind of diary (I have no doubt that today he would have been an enthusiastic and diligent blogger) and, as one of his motives was to drum up support for the Third Crusade, his notings of military matters are crucial to our understanding.
  He commented that the men of Gwent "have much more experience of warfare, are more famous for their martial exploits and, in particular, are more skilled with the bow and arrow than those who come from other parts of Wales." He quotes events from the capture of Abergavenny castle where the arrows penetrated the oak doorway of the tower, almost as thick as a man's palm, and where the infamous William de Braose told a riveting (pun intended) tale. In this account a Welsh bowman shot an arrow through a rider's thigh despite protection by cuishes, then though his leather tunic, part of the saddle and deeply into the horse, killing it. Another fighter, similarly pierced, wheeled his mount round and was impaled on the other side, pinning him twice to the animal.
   Giraldus sums this up: "It is difficult to see what more you could do, even if you had a ballista". Quite so, Gerald of Wales. These bows were carved out of dwarf elm trees, not very large but sturdy, and left unpolished: in his view they were particularly useful at close quarters. In general, the archers were usually, as John Keegan states, "from remote and rustic areas ... with time on their hands." They were often not considered worth a ransom.

The longbow
   It is generally accepted that the English longbow was borrowed from Wales and evolved to become a formidable weapon, by the 13th century coming to measure around 6ft. It had a complex construction of different woods and required great strength and skill to manipulate. A shorter bow drawn back as far as the nearside of the chest had some force but the taller one taken further back as far as the ear was a winner - this change dates from the first decades of the 14th century. The yard-long arrows took 3 times as long to make as the bow, needed goose feathers from the same wing of the bird for even flight and were tipped with metal bodkins. This explains why they were frequently retrieved from the dead on the battle field.
  It was Edward I who was mainly responsible for recognising the potential of the longbow, ironically largely because of his encounters with it in the hands of his enemy, The rise of the English infantry to be a real power in Europe depended on the longbow drawn to the ear and he developed such trust in it that he had an archers-only corps of 800 men in 1277 from Gwent and Crickhowell who gained, as mercenaries, an unusual 3d per day. The arrows could penetrate chain mail and chroniclers report victims looking like hedgehogs with bristling spikes - bowmen were more often combined with other forms of infantry or even cavalry. A rain of arrows caused a "funk" sending a soldier into a kind of distraught madness even if he were not hit.

It could take 10 years to train an archer and they developed enlarged pulling arms and shoulders as has been seen on skeletons. Edward III issued a declaration in 1363 that "every man in the ... country, if he be able-bodied, shall, upon holidays, make use, in his games, of bows and arrows ... and so learn and practise archery." He recognised that this would give him a pool of skilled men for recruitment in war. By contrast, the French rulers discouraged such training for fear that the plebs would use their proficiency to rise up in revolt against them. They perhaps regretted this after their defeats in the great battles of the Hundred Years' War. It should be noted that archers were also used on ships and stood on the "castles" to fire.

England/Wales v France
  Crécy was perhaps the battle of the non-Hundred Years' War (I was baffled by the arithmetic when I was at school) most affected by the longbowmen. 2000 of them were taken from South Wales to a resounding victory over the French who were blinded by the sun: at least 10000 of the enemy died, many of them noblemen. We will skip over Poitiers where the bowmen committed atrocities and move on to Agincourt where the arrow-scarred Henry V (injured by a Welsh shot at the Battle of Shrewsbury and captured in his portrait in profile to hide this) won another round of the contest. Again French losses vastly outnumbered the English. In a conversation with Fluellen after the battle, the Welshman refers to Henry's great-uncle "Edward the Plack, Prince of Wales" fighting a "most prave pattle here in France" in which the Welshman did good service ... wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps" as the King does on "Saint Tavy's day" because he is, as he acknowledges, Welsh himself.
 On a sourer note, we can infer that some regarded as treachery, Welsh service to the English cause.

Henry V was born in Monmouth Castle and, if you are interested in the ballista, there is also a post on this blog about such Medieval weapons. I am indebted to Reginald Bosanquet for the detail about goose feathers which, at first, seemed rather like the tale I once believed that it was best to buy a left leg of Welsh lamb because they built up flesh on that side by circling the mountains clockwise.