Who’s for a Fairy Tale?

You may have heard of Godrey of Bouillon, the famous figure of the First Crusade, you may not have not heard this legend about his ancestors a story containing several elements worthy of the most outlandish fairy tale; noble knights, a wicked curmudgeonly relative, and a quest. The tale is recounted in Maurice Keen’s book Chivalry thus:

lohengrin-6408“Lost in the forest, Lothar the son of King Philip, laid himself down to sleep by a clear spring. He was woken by the fair Elioxe, whose father’s castle was close by, looking at her, he fell in love instantly and offered her is hand. She consented to he his but warned him it would cost her her life; she would bear a son from whom would spring the race of the future conqueror of Jerusalem, and would die in doing so”[1].

According to the story, Elioxe gave birth to seven children, six sons and one daughter, and died in childbirth whilst Lothar was away at war. “Each child when it was born had a golden chain around its neck. The old Queen, their Grandmother, had hated Elioxe ….” and ordered the children abandoned in the forest, telling Lothar on his return that his wife had died “giving birth to a monster”.[2] Just like some wicked stepmother from stories.

But all was not lost, the story goes on with the abandoned brood receiving help from a hermit, but their wicked grandmother hears of it and sends a servant to remove their gold chains, which results in the six boys caught promptly turning into swans. Anything can happen in a myth. Only the one girl who escapes wanders seeking her brothers “until she came upon her father’s palace and was recognized. Her brothers were found on a nearby lake and regained their shape when the chains were restored- all save one whose chain was lost”.[3]

As though people turning into swans was not enough, this tale also contains a quest, with one of the boys “the Swan Knight” setting out “on a bark drawn by his swan brother and coming to the Emperor Otto’s palace” and proceeded to champion the cause of the Duchess of Bouillon and her daughter Beatrice against the Duke of Saxony “who was challenging their inheritance”.[4] Naturally, the knight defeated the bad guy in a duel and won the hand of the Lady, Beatrice. The couple do not live happily ever after, however, as Beatrice “asked him the question he had forbidden, what his birth was, the swan returned with the bark, and took him away, sorrowing never to be heard from again”.[5]

At this point, one may be asking what relevance this far-fetched tale had has to G300px-Godfrey_of_Bouillon_from_Histoire_d'Outremerodrey of Bouillon? Well, according to the story Beatrice the the mysterious Knight’s daughter Ida (perhaps born before her dad was carried off by a swan-borne boat?) is supposed to have gone on to marry Count Eustace of Bolougne, and their third child was none other than Godfrey.

Of course this is not to say that Godfrey’s granddad really was a one-time swan, but it “singles out the story of the future conqueror by associating it with a train of miraculous and prophetic events”. Elioxe for instance seemed to know what her grandson would achieve, and I don’t know about anyone else, but it is a well- spun yarn. So well spun in fact that the tale of the Knight of the Swan was adapted to Wolfram von Eschenbach in the his thirteenth century epic Romance Parzival, as the hero Lohengrin, a more familiar tale you may have heard of. Seems those Medieval people liked a good story adventure tale…


[1] Maurice Keen, Chivalry (Yale, 2005), p58.9.

[2] Ibid,. p58.

[3] Ibid,.

[4] Ibid,. p59.

[5] Ibid,.

Images from Google and Wikipedia.com

Chivalry by Maurice Keen

389553Due to the constraints of University work and my dissertation I have not posted for a while.Welcome to my new readers and followers by the way!

Now all that is done, but current reading projects still include academic works relating to my course. One of these is Chivalry by Maurice Keen.

Book synopsis “Chivalry—with its pageants, heraldry, and knights in shining armor—was a social ideal that had a profound influence on the history of early modern Europe. In this eloquent and richly detailed book, a leading medieval historian discusses the complex reality of chivalry: its secular foundations, the effects of the Crusades, the literature of knighthood, and its ethos of the social and moral obligations of nobility.”

The book pretty much covers every aspect and subject of Chivalry, including the religious and secular origins of Chivalry. I don’t always find it an easy read, but it generally is an interesting one. Some tidbits coming soon……

Geoffroi de Charny’s ‘Book of Chivalry’

0812219090A Knight’s Own Book of Chivalry by Geoffroi de Charny  Translated by Elspeth Kennedy with the Introduction by Richard Kaueper.

From the back cover: On the great influence of a valiant lord: “The companions, who see that good warriors are honored by the great lords for their prowess, become more determined to attain this level of prowess.”

On the lady who sees her knight honored: “All of this makes the noble lady rejoice greatly within herself at the fact that she has set her mind and heart on loving and helping to make such a good knight or good man-at-arms.”

On the worthiest amusements: “The best pastime of all is to be often in good company, far from unworthy men and from unworthy activities from which no good can come.”

Enter the real world of knights and their code of ethics and behavior. Read how an aspiring knight of the fourteenth century would conduct himself and learn what he would have needed to know when traveling, fighting, appearing in court, and engaging fellow knights. Composed at the height of the Hundred Years War by Geoffroi de Charny, one of the most respected knights of his age, A Knight’s Own Book of Chivalry was designed as a guide for members of the Company of the Star, an order created by Jean II of France in 1352 to rival the English Order of the Garter. This is the most authentic and complete manual on the day-to-day life of the knight that has survived the centuries, and this edition contains a specially commissioned introduction from historian Richard W. Kaeuper that gives the history of both the book and its author, who, among his other achievements, was the original owner of the Shroud of Turin.”

Geoffroi de Charny (1304?-56) was considered the quintessential knight of his age by his contemporaries. He was killed at the Battle of Poitiers.

Richard W. Kaeuper is Professor of History at the University of Rochester. He is the author of a number of books, including Chivalry and Violence in Medieval Europe.

Elspeth Kennedy is Sometime Fellow at St. Hilda’s College, Oxford University.

My own opinion: One of the most famous French knights of his age, Charny’s Book of Chivalry was written in an age when his country was facing political crisis and defeat. In response to these problems, the 220px-Eduard3_CharnyKing Jean II founded the Order of the Star, for which the Book was written, in the hope that by returning to the chivalric ideals of loyalty and prowess, honour and victory could be restored.  The introduction is very useful illuminating the wider historical and political context of the work, the book’s short sections and chapters make it readable and accessible to the general or academic reader.

Though idealistic in its treatment of the chivalric lifestyle, Charny’s book was also informed by realism borne from practical experience of warfare- the author’s own military career having spanned nearly 20 years. Thus Charny described the privations of war and the horrors of battle with the voice of one who had seen and lived through these, while encouraging knights and men at arms to always live honourably at all times, be unflinchingly loyal to  a good  lord, honest, pious and morally upright. Some behaviour advised and encouraged by the author may seem surprising, such as avenging upon enemies, or treating enemies harshly. Yet such were not inconsistent with the notion of Chivalry.

Though the ideals or behaviour commended by Charny may have been unattainable for many fighting men, his book still provides some fascinating insights into world and worldview of a Medieval knight who was not afraid to criticise his fellows for their cowardice, indolence and sloth. Charny was scathing in his fellows whose fear of death, or giving up their comfortable lives causing them to become reluctant to go to war, and even the noble classes do not entirely escape criticism. A good ruler should not ‘enrich himself at the expense’ of others for instance, nor use his position as an excuse for corruption and abuse.

Such admonitions reflected the criticisms levelled against the nobility of his own age, who were accused of misusing the money intended for the war, and rebuked for their debauched and decadent conduct. Charny echoed such sentiments, censuring knights who stayed too long in bed, spent too much money on finery, or occupied their time with ‘worthless games’. Worthy knights should instead seek after opportunities to show their prowess and martial skills. Those who abused their knighthood by attacking or pillaging without good cause or warning were not only unworthy of knighthood, but also of life, for knights were supposed to protect the realm, not abuse its subjects.

Altogether A Knight’s Own Book of Chivalry is an interesting and revealing work written by a man who lived and died fighting for some of the very attitudes and ideals which it promotes.

Interested in Buying the Book? Click the image for a link to Amazon.com and here is the the Amazon UK link.

Why Medieval seiges could be anything but chivalrous..

A set of unwritten rules governed the conduct of individuals in war in the middle ages. These ‘rules of war’ were recognized by many , though no body existed to enforce them, and some of the actions which they deemed permissible may come across as surprising or shocking to a modern person who sees the laws of war in terms of the Geneva Convention, or views Medieval warfare as subject to an ideal of Chivalry. In his book The Laws of War in the Middle Ages (London, 1965)  Maurice Keen devoted an entire chapter to siege warfare, one of the most controversial forms of warfare, due perhaps in part to the conduct of some commanders towards vanquished townspeople.

Perhaps surprisingly, there was a certain protocol to be observed when conducting a siege. First of all the commanders of the besieging army had to send summons to surrender, and he who delivered these terms would warn the ‘garrison and townsmen’ of the consequences of refusing terms ‘ which served as an added inducement to them’ to accept the terms and capitulate.  Such a scenario almost harks back to a certain scene in Shakespeare’s Henry V, in which the King warns the King of the ‘heady murder’ and ‘spoil’ that will be wreaked upon them if they failed to yield.

280px-Siege_orleans

A Medieval Cannon being used during a siege

Yet such deeds were not necessarily regarded as criminal acts, for a commander could ‘invoke the sanctions permitted by the laws of war’ on the inhabitants of a town which refused to surrender after refusing terms and being warned of the consequences. One a siege was commenced with the firing of cannons the ‘rule was fight to the death without quarter’, unless the commander decided to accept terms, and ‘if lives were spared, it was only through the clemency of the victorious captain’.

Legally, the goods of those vanquished were still considered forfeit, and technically only churchmen might be regarded as ‘secure’. Thus when the burghers of the Calais garrison in 1347 left the town ‘bareheaded’ and with halters around their necks, they were not necessarily submitting to an unscrupulous despot with no regard for the code of chivalry. Rather, they were handing themselves over to the commander who had ‘taken the town by force of arms unconditionally’ and was legally permitted to deal with the inhabitants as he wished as ‘their lives were at his mercy’. Also, pillaging and taking of the goods of those defeated and besieged was not in the sense of the rules of war, wanton stealing, but the taking of goods which were legally ‘forfeit for the … disregard of a prince’s summons to surrender.” Though of course, not all sieges were undertaken by those of the royal blood or family, they might well be acting on his behalf in wartime.

The rules regarding sieges could be put those being besieged in a particularly untenable situation, and the refusal to accept the terms of surrender offered by an enemy prince (or one of his nobles), who ‘claimed the town as his right’ was ‘an insult to his majesty and punishable as such’ in the most brutal way. Yet if he surrendered, the commander of a garrison, or the person responsible for accepting terms, could find himself committing a treasonable act against his own Lord. Furthermore, surrendering a town without siege or without making some attempt at defence was treason, not just possibly so. Thus, the rules in force during sieges were different from those of open battles, where ‘there was no stigma attached to surrender, and the law of arms protected a Christian captive who had given his faith the enemy’ in a battle, however ‘at a siege there was no such safeguard.’

Why were such harsh and exceptional rules put into effect during siege warfare? M.H Keen gives two answers, one was that the commander or Prince who had ‘summoned a town to surrender’ had effectively bound himself to taking it, placing his honour and reputation at stake if he failed to do so. As stated before, resisting him in this regard was an offence against his majesty, and such offences were subject to severe punishment.

siege-of-brest

Harsh treatment of the besieged could be viewed as permissible according to the laws of war

Another reason was that the taking of towns was often essential to the conquest of the lands attached to it, or the region, ‘No land could be reduced until the fortresses were taken’. Therefore an invader would use any inducement necessary to ensure that the strategic points of towns and cities were taken, which could include bribery, but also the threats of rapine, pillage and massacre, if these could make surrender more likely and his job easier. Conversely, the King of those being invaded had to try and protect his fortresses, so that those who gave them up supposedly too easily could be regarded as traitor, and suffer the full force of the law.

Geoffroi de Charny, one of the most famed knights in 14th century France put such notions into effect when be killing Hugues de Belconroy who had handed over the castle of Guines to the English for money for his actions represented disloyalty to the King of France.

The idealism of the code of Chivalry does not seem to have necessarily governed siege warfare, and its complex connections with individual notions of the dignity, reputation and honour of the Kings and Princes who conducted warfare made the severity of some of its measures more severe. In some cases, the besieged could be blamed for their own stubborn obstinacy in failing to accept the terms offered them, and resisting the Prince who sought to take their town, so that any ill which befell them could be deemed as their fault. A strange notion indeed according to some modern standards and sensibilities. Even more unpalatable is the notion that the ravaging of besieged towns could be deemed justifiable- such were the differences between the Medieval past and our own. Yet whilst we should not condone such actions or notions, and understanding of how these could be deemed legal and just according to the laws of war could help us to better understand why commanders and their opponents acted the way they did.

All quotes from M.H Keen, The Laws of War in the Middle Ages (London, 1965), p119-33.

Whoever said Medieval people had no manners?

This extract from a fifteenth century book of instruction ‘John Russell’s Book of Nurture’ gives some rather interesting tips about acceptable conduct at the table. I am not entirely sure about the context, but it demonstrates I think that Medieval people cared about manners and were not so uncouth as some may think. This passage might make you laugh too….

Symple Condicions

“Simple conditions of a person that is not taught I will you eschew, for evermore they be nought.Do not claw you head or back as though you seek a flea. Not strike nor prick your hair to remove a louse See your eyes are not glowing nor blinking nor too heavy of cheer, Watery, winking nor dripping but clear of sight, Don’t pike your nose, not let clear pearls drip, Neither sniff nor blow your nose so that you sovereign hears it.

scene-of-a-medieval-dinne_4a37855459b9d-p

Table manners seem to have been important in the Middle Ages

Twist not your neck askew like a jackdaw. Put not your hands in your stockings your codware to scratch not picking, nor fiddling, not rubbing as though you would saw, Do not rub nor wipe your hands nor beat your chest. Do not pick your ears even if you are slow of hearing. Don’t retch, spit too far or laugh too loudly. Speak not loudly, beware asserting or scorning. Be no liar with your mouth, neither boastful nor dribbling. Don’t squirt or spout with your mouth. Don’t gape, eat with your mouth open or pout. Don’t lick the dish with your tongue to get the last crumb.

jackdaw1

It is advised not to ‘twist your neck askew like a jackdaw’.

Don’t be rash nor reckless, its not worth a clout. Don’t sigh deeply, cough or breathe loudly in front of your sovereign. No more hiccupping, belching nor groaning. Don’t stamp your feet or sit with your legs apart. Don’t scratch your body or keep opening and shutting your legs. Good son, don’t pick, grind or gnash your teeth, don’t breathe stinking breath on your sovereign. No puffing nor blowing, whether full or fasting and watch that your hinder part does not blast off. Short clothes that expose your codware are an ungodly style…”

From John Russell’s Book of Nurture a Medieval Manual containing guidance for the Marshall, the Chamberlain… and the lad at the table.

‘Arcane’ does not always mean bad….

220px-SanktEdvardsstol_westminsterSo it appears that the prime minister, and others among the governing  authorities of Great Britain have decided that the ancient rules of succession, namely  the system by which the firstborn son inherits before any older sisters, need to be changed because they are ‘arcane’ and old fashioned.

Perhaps some explanation is required. The debate about changing the rules seems to revolve around Prince William and Kate’s coming baby. Even before Kate was expecting, it was proposed that the child should be allowed to inherit no matter what its sex may be, and that if the firstborn would be a girl, she should not be passed for the succession in favour of any subsequently born brothers. It would seem that some disapprove of such an action because it constitutes ‘discrimination’ against women, and so is ‘sexist’.

It appears to be that some persons  of liberal leanings have little tolerance for anything that does not line up with their worldview. No matter that the practice, custom or rule is centuries old, no matter that it may be part of a nation’s heritage, no matter what the original reasons may have been behind it. If they don’t like it, it MUST be changed.

So what where the reasons for this archaic sexist anachronism? From my limited knowledge of such matters, it would seem that it goes back to the practice of the lands, estates and possessions of a woman being shared with their husbands on their marriage. Where the lands and estates of noble houses were concerned, such could be possible, and land could even be shared or divided (though the Normans do not seem to have favoured partable inheritance, instead preferring for lands to be passed on whole).

For a kingdom however, problems could result on the crown being passed to a woman. If she was the heir, what would happen if she married some foreign Prince? Would he then take possession of the Kingdom to which she was the heir? This seems to have been a veryphilip-ii-3-sized real problem for some Medieval and Renaissance monarchs. There seems to have been a very real fear, for instance, that Mary Tudor’s marriage to Phillip II of Spain would result in a Spanish takeover of England.

Or in Scotland there seems to have been some reluctance to marry Scottish Princesses to the sons of English Kings, or the Kings themselves, perhaps for fear that this would result in England annexing Scotland effectively by the ‘back door’.

So it would appear that the outmoded practice of settling the succession on the firstborn son, and passing over any older sisters had something of a valid and reasonable basis- that of ensuring foreign monarchs would not come to rule instead of them- and so preserving the ruling house and kingdom intact. Perhaps those who complain about such practices could do with learning more history….

Not ‘Brave’ enough it seems….

MV5BMzgwODk3ODA1NF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNjU3NjQ0Nw@@._V1._SY317_CR0,0,214,317_I know, the review of a movie which has no literary counterpart may not be entirely in keeping with the nature of what this site supposedly devoted to, but as it involves an exposition of some things historical, perhaps the aberration may be forgiven.

So, several months after the event and the rave reviews I finally got around to watching the latest Disney& Pixar  offering Brave (the one with the red-haired princess archer). The typical Disney cheesiness was present, as well as the almost mantra-like talk of how ‘trusting in your heart’ is so important  (how many times have we heard such nonsense in their movies?), alongside the almost compulsory celebration of ‘girl power’.

Still, unlike some anachronistic movie heroines , Merida does not just pick up a bow out of the blue one day then display a suddenly acquired expertise at using it. She is shown as having practiced with her bow from childhood. That at least adds a touch more realism, though I am not an archer, and those accomplished at the noble pastime may well be able to point out the fictional teen’s deficiencies at bowman-ship  (is there such a word?).

Like a certain other cinematic offering from the late 90s which the title resembles Brave (ahem) presents an exaggeratedly stereotypical version of ‘Scottish’ culture with a swath of kilted men, bag pipes an haggis, and even a ragged-haired blue-painted warrior, only not this time impersonating William Wallace. The only difference is that Brave does not always take itself entirely seriously, and sometimes the stereotypes seem to be poking fun at the traditional items they represent.

Princess Merida is more of a modern teenager than a Medieval royal, spouting off the usual rhetoric about not wanting to be made to marry someone she does not know or love for reasons of tradition or political convenience. Such an imposition of modern ideology onto the past is generally something I frown upon in Historical movies, and this was no exception. Royals and nobles moaning about it being their parents idea or wish that they marry Tom, Dick, Angus or Merida might be seen as a normal response for a teenager today, but at a time when the stability of the Kingdom, or the future the treaty or the alliance depended upon an arranged marriage, and much more than personal feelings were at stake, the parties involved sometimes had to sacrifice their own desires for a higher purpose.

It may seem all well for dear Merida to whinge about all the expectations placed upon her at  such a tender age, but when one comes to realize that Medieval noble and royal women could be expected to take charge of an estate, or even a kingdom, such expectations do not seem so very unreasonable. So altogether, Merida’s attitude is not only immature, but also profoundly selfish and damaging. This said, Merida does, to a point, admit to having been selfish and expresses a degree of regret for her behavior.  Moreover, the princess obviously loves her mother (and she her), and the restoration of their relationship is sweet.

brave-the-stone-circle

Pre-Christian ideas and monuments seem very prominent in ‘Brave’

Except on a merely superficial level, and a few scenes, I cannot really say I was enormously keen on this movie. The glaring anachronisms, like castles and ‘cakes’ were forgivable, but the worst aspect, and that which I found most objectionable was the total exclusion of Christianity whilst giving prominence to pagan beliefs and ideas.

Some may attempt to argue that Christianity is not mentioned, because Brave is set at a time before the Christianization of Britain , but this simply does not seem plausible. The setting and details are clearly Medieval, and the movie has been placed in the 900s, or the tenth century. By this time, Christianity would have been well known  in Scotland for over 200 years, and likely quite well established  (or the Scottish kingdoms before unification). Not everyone was necessarily Christian, but nor was nobody so.

iona_st_martins_cross

Yet Medieval Scottish Christianity is entirely absent

This was, to coin British idiom, the biggest cop out for me in Brave. Of course it is not the only cinematic offering of recent years that is guilty of ignoring the influence of Christianity on Britain’s heritage and history whilst pretending everyone was pagan, but it certainly seemed to be following the example of others.                     If, in keeping with notions of secular inclusion the filmmakers did not seen to be wanting to promote any  religion, even paganism should have been excluded. Yet this was not the case.  The prominence given to ancient monuments like the stone circle, which is strongly associated with ‘magic’, the young Merida’s stating that her father should believe in ‘magic’ because it is ‘real’, her visiting a witch, and her following the mystical ‘will o’ the wisps’ is evidence of the prominence given to pre-Christian beliefs and concepts, belying the argument that the argument that the no mention of Christianity or established religion was designed to present a version of the past more in keeping with modern secularized society.

Whilst Brave , with its panoramic highland scenes and folk music is clearly intended to celebrate Scottish culture, the seemingly intentional ignoring of the religious ideology which had such a profound effect on that culture is, I believe a travesty of the highest order.

Whether secularists like it or not, Christianity left and indelible legacy on the history and cultural heritage of the British isles. It was Catholic clergy in the seventh century who adapted the Anglo Saxon language with letters from the Latin alphabet, giving birth to the literary legacy that spawned such works as Beowulf and Bede’s Ecclesiastical History. It was St Patrick, who hailed from mainland Britain who bought Christianity to Ireland, the very country from which the Scotti tribe after whom Merida’s  Scotland is named hailed, and the nation an from which Columba launched his mission to  that land.

So may it be politely requested, by this mere history student, that movies like Brave refrain from hijacking the Medieval period in the name of paganism, and make some room for Christianity in their celebrations or presentations of all things British, Scottish, Irish or Welsh (and even on some rare occasions, English?) It may not be politically correct, but history rarely is, if allowed to speak for itself.

Unhallowed Ground The Fourth Chronicle of Hugh de Singleton by Melvin Starr

book04I only recently discovered ‘The Chronicles of Hugh de Singleton’, which attracted me for a number of reasons. As a fan of the Cadfael series a Medieval Crime Mystery series seemed interesting, as a lover of Medieval History the setting attracted me, and as a Christian the religious aspects and the fact that novels in this genre tend to be ‘cleaner’ than others also seemed a plus.

By way of a brief introduction the series is set in the late 1300s (14th century) and the protagonist Hugh de Singleton  is the younger son of a knight who trained as a surgeon (different from a physician) who was appointed Bailiff of the Oxfordshire Village of Bampton on the Weald after treating the Local Lord. Bampton is a real village a short distance from Oxford, and most of Hugh’s sleuthing and medical work takes place in and around the region. John Wycliffe the controversial theologian also makes an appearance as a secondary character in a number of the stories, as a friend and mentor of Hugh, who adheres to some of his teachings and doctrines which went against the mainstream teaching of the Catholic Church.

With this particular installment, the fourth in the series, I was generally satisfied. The crime itself is not described in graphic detail, nor does the author seem to delight in gory descriptions of brutal acts, and the aspects of social history are interesting. Some of the descriptions of medieval surgery and medical practice are also fascinating, as well as the everyday lives of ordinary folk.

The historical elements seem to be well done, plausible and authentic- and appear to be well researched for the most part. The glossary is useful for the more unfamiliar terms. The one thing which does seem out of place is the accents of the characters- they seem a little- odd. I am not familiar the Oxfordshire accent, but I don’t think it sounds anything like one the lower class characters have in the novel, which seems like a bizarre hotchpotch of West Country and Northern.

Yet the novel does seem to drag a little towards the middle. The main reason for this seems to have been that Hugh just did not have much to do, and so his daily life and routine just seems to have become part of the plot, and, whilst this work for a while, it cannot always hold one’s interest. Admittedly, it would not be much of a mystery novel if the case was solved easily or quickly, and the process of investigation is as important as the resolution, yet the story just seemed slow and plodding in parts.

Hugh’s moral dilemma is worked into the story well, and adds a somewhat deeper element. He must investigate the apparent suicide of a hugely unpopular member of the community whom almost everyone seems to have had motive to slay and is at first is convinced that a corrupt and murderous clergyman who had previously been complicit in another crime must the culprit, despite the fact that all who know him insist that he is a changed man.

When he goes to confront the man, he must in some way confront his own unpleasant prejudice to find that his prime suspect could not be guilty. Gradually, as the suspects become fewer it becomes apparent that one of his friends may be responsible. As this becomes apparent, Hugh is torn between pursuing the felon as his role and justice demands, and abandoning investigation because of the possibility of having to send one of his friends to the gallows if he does discover the  murderer amongst them.  Yet the conclusion of this moral dilemma (and the solving of the murder) is distinctly unsatisfactory, as well as morally questionable, which is the main reason why I gave this novel a lower rating than I perhaps would have done.

On a moral level, I much prefer the married Hugh in this Novel to Hugh the Bachelor in previous novels who was in the habit of ogling a particular teenage scullery maid, as well as any other pretty face who could turn his head, or distract his attention. He is, in my view a far more appealing character when he is not occupied by thoughts of women  as in the second novel which I hope soon to finish.

Overall, ‘Unhallowed Ground’ was and enjoyable and pleasant read, likely to satisfy lovers of historical fiction if their expectations are not too high. Those who expect the High Drama of political intrigue will be disappointed, but those who prefer ‘cosy’ rural settings may take to it more. As murder mystery it is good, though perhaps not the best, the most intriguing element may  the protagonist belonging to a much misunderstood and underrated profession which the author has clearly taken trouble to acquaint himself with.

’1415 Henry V’s Year of Glory’ by Ian Mortimer- My response and view

I read the first 320 odd pages of this book  for a University assignment; I suspected I would not like it, knowing that the author takes an incredibly critical view of Henry. In this sense I was not disappointed. Ian Mortimer might claim to have been taking a more ‘objective view’ of the evidence, but I was not convinced. There really seemed to be a distinctly antagonistic I might even say hateful tone to this book, and the author appeared to be consciously interpreting the evidence in such a way as to cast Henry in as negative a light as he possibly could, and to intentionally vilifying him at every given opportunity.

Almost from the outset, Mortimer appeared to be trying to interpret events and actions on the part of King Henry  in such a way as to highlight some supposed character flaw. Yet some of his assertions seem to be entirely unconvincing, and really just absurd. How exactly does the supposed fact that the King did not sleep around and have mistresses from the time of his succession until his marriage reflect badly on him? Some might see this as morally commendable behavior, but Mortimer seems to interpret it is a fault of some kind, even suggesting that Henry was not ‘close’ to women.

He then states that Henry did not marry for love unlike his Grandfather John of Gaunt. Yet he seemingly neglects to mention that Gaunt was married three times, and that his second marriage was almost certainly one of convenience to bring him material gain. This is not the only time in which Mortimer forgets to mention, or perhaps ignores information which has some bearing on the claims he makes, in such a way as could be misleading.  Besides of which, very few Medieval Royal marriages were for love, so how was Henry so very different from other royals of the time in this respect?

Then there is the way that Mortimer seems to be determined to prove one of the central tenets of the work- that Henry was some kind of religious fanatic who waged war on France in the name of God. These leads to some rather curious and perhaps questionable interpretations of what appears to be, initially, rather sparse ‘evidence’, notably one Bible verse, and a motto on one of Henry’s ships. These are supposed to ‘prove’ wanted Henry to “exercise absolute authority over his subjects, both religious and secular”, and believed his actions were the work of God. Yet both “sources” could possibly be open to different interpretations, which Mortimer does not seen to even consider. Surely also, Henry was not the only medieval ruler to believe the victory in battle demonstrated divine favour for his cause?

Later on, he declares that Henry’s will is evidence of his “extreme” and “excessive” religiously. Whilst it may be said that the payment of hundreds of priests to say thousands of masses could be seen as rather overdoing it, actions such as leaving generous bequests to the church, wanting masses to or prayers be said for the soul after death, or dividing property amongst friends and relatives do not seem to be anything out of the ordinary in themselves for nobles of the period. Also one may ask, so what if Henry wanted to be buried in Westminster Abbey near the relics, or only mentioned two women in his will? How is this ‘proof’ of anything bad?

Yet, for all his condemnation of Henry’s alleged ‘fanaticism’ Mortimer appears to respect and even commend expressions of religious devotion and sentiment on the part of other nobles, apparently seeing their religiosity as a good thing, proof of their piety and devotion. Thus it would appear that Mortimer  is applying double standards- by interpreting the religious expressions of some people in in a positive light, yet arguing it suggests some kind of fanaticism on the part of Henry.

He also seems to adopt a rather condescending and it could be said rather arrogant approach to the viewpoints and interpretations of other historians, at one point describing those who see Henry as having been great as ‘intoxicated’ by this view of him. He does not even seem willing to entertain their viewpoints or arguments. Perhaps this is way he interprets Henry’s reference to the law of Deuteronomy in a letter to King Charles is evidence that Henry sought to ‘justify his actions in the sight of God ‘ and claims that he was ‘only offering peace…. Because he believed that was what a warrior of God should do prior to attacking”. In her book, Juliet Barker suggested that Henry was  “following the code of conduct that governed the Medieval laws of war” in the “proscribed form” and even quotes the Medieval writer Christine De Pizan’s as having stated that “wars… wages for a just cause are but a proper execution of justice”.1 By Mortimer’s standard would that make Christine a ‘fanatic’ too? One could also ask why he does not take account of this other historian’s work. Can it just be rejected because it is not ‘objective; enough for him?

Throughout the book, the author makes statements about what Henry and other figures were thinking, or how they felt about certain situations. I see no problem with historians speculating about what historical figures might have been thinking and feeling, but when Mortimer suggests that person ‘knew’ this, or ‘thought’ that it seems to imply a level of certainty or absolutism. On one or two occasions, Mortimer even attributes views or opinions to historical persons which seem to reflect his own.

Thus he suggests that at least two nobles objected to the war in France in moral or political grounds. One of these was Richard Earl of Cambridge, whom Mortimer claims did not support the war, or want to fight in it because he knew (allegedly) that it was only being waged to demonstrate the legitimacy of Henry’s claim to the throne, whilst neglecting to mention that the Earl actually raised a large contingent of troops for the expedition to France. He then asserts that not only did Edmund Mortimer, the brother in law of Cambridge have a claim to the throne, but Cambridge himself had ‘probably’ been named as third in the line of succession by Richard II. There appears to be one fundamental flaw in this line of argument however- which is that if Cambridge was indeed illegitimate (as Mortimer suggests) he would not almost certainly not have been permitted to succeed to the throne at all. Another of Mortimer’s little omissions it would seem.

To make matters worse Mortimer appears to present contradictory information. In one passage he writes that “he (Richard Earl of Cambridge) seems to have given very little thought to the fact that he would have to kill all three of Henry’s brothers (as well as Henry himself) before he could eliminate their claim to the throne”.

Yet he later asserts that the charge of plotting to kill the King made against The Earl of Cambridge, Sir Thomas Grey, and Henry Lord Scrope was ‘false’ ‘trumped up’ and an ‘inference based on the character of the plot’ (though other historians have written similar things) stating that for Mortimer to be crowned “Henry and all his brothers would have to be removed from the order of succession”. The wording of the latter sounds rather less murderous than Mortimer’s previous claim that the aforesaid Earl would “have to” kill four people.

Interestingly, Mortimer also claims that Lord Scrope was morally opposed to the French war, citing a passage in Scrope’s later confession, made after his arrest for treason as ‘proof’. Yet this passage in the document which survives in badly damaged condition appears to make no direct or explicit reference to any opposition to the invasion of France on Scrope’s part. It does state that Scrope suggested that he thought it might be a good idea to try to sabotage to the expedition to the other conspirators- whose plans Mortimer clearly claims Scrope did not support or approve of.  Mortimer also doesn’t mention the contingent of archers and men at arms which Scrope raised either. Also Mortimer’s protestation of Scrope’s innocence seem to be largely based on his and Cambridge’s confessions, which in the words of one historian were written “to save the conspirator’s skins”, so are they entirely reliable?2

I apologise for the length of this review, but think it is necessary to highlight the shortcomings of this work. Presenting speculation and personal opinion as fact, missing out things which do not fit into one’s interpretation, and seeking to interpret the evidence in such a way as to make a person look bad does not constitute an ‘objective’ approach to history in my opinion. Mortimer seems to do all of the above, so can his work really be regarded as objective? I hardly think so. Admittedly I have not finished it, but if what I have read of this book is anything to go by, I would say that, at best it presents an incredibly biased version of the events which took place in 1415 written by a person who makes no attempt to disguise his apparent disdain not only for Henry, but his apparent contempt for other historians. If readers are seeking a more objective and complete view of Henry, I would urge them to read other works and not just this book, Christopher Allmand’s, Anne Curry’s and Juliet Barker’s books are ones I would recommend.

References

1. Juliet Barker, Agincourt (London, 2005), p148.

2. Kieth Dockray, Henry V  (Stroud, 2004), p114.