STANDING ON THE SHOULDERS OF GIANTS

"Medieval people were small and weedy, right?"

Here's a list from the London and Middlesex Archaeology Societie's publication The Cemetery of St. Nicholas Shambles. The cemetery, now occupied by the British Telecom Centre in Newgate Street, London, was excavated between 1975 and 1979 and consisted of 234 skeletons dating from the 11th and 12th centuries and comprised the first large group of human burials to be reported from the City of London. The book discusses the remains in detail, but what particularly interests me is that it gives data from other cemetery excavations and lists the average heights of the males and females involved. It's something of an eye opener.

At st Nicholas Shambles itself, the average height of the men worked out at 5ft 8ins with a range from 5ft 2ins to 6ft 2ins. For the women the average was 5ft 2ins (my height) and a range of 4ft 11ins to 5ft 8ins.

The book posts samples from another 16 excavations.
Bideford on Avon. Saxon. Men 5' 7 1/2. Women 5'1 1/2 large sample
North Elmham Norfolk Saxon Men 5'7 3/4 Women 5'2 20 people
Porchester Castle Saxon Men 5'9 1/4 Women 5'5 15 people
St. Helen, Aldwark, York. 10th-16thC Men 5'6 1/2 Women 5'2 large sample
Durham Cathedral 12thC Men 5'7 1/2 No women. 20 people
Pontefract Priory 12th-14thC Men 5'7 1/2 No women 34 people
Wharram Percy Medieval Men 5'6 No women. Large sample
Greyfriar's Chester Medieval Men 5'6 1/2 Women 5'3 20 people
Austin Friars Leicester Medieval. Men 5'10 Women 5'2 13 people
Bordesely Abbey Medieval. Men 5'8 No women. 19 people
Rothwell Charnell House Medieval. Men 5'5 Women 5'2 Large sample
Dominican Priory Chelmsford Medieval. men 5.7 Women 5'1 1/2 25 people
Guildford Friary Surrey Medieval. Men 5'8 Women 5'3 56 people
St Mary's Priory Thetford. Men 12th-13thC 5'9 3/4 No women 5 people
South Acre Norforlk 12th-14thC Men 5'6 Women 5'1 1/2 5 people
St. Leonard's, Hythe, Kent 14th-15th c Men 5'8 Women 5;2 large sample.

Case rested. The average height of a British male in 2010 was slightly taller at 5ft 9ins but not by a long chalk. The average height of a British female was 5ft 3ins, so virtually no change.  At 5ft 2 myself, I'd fit into the medieval word perfectly! 

Ludgershall Castle the early years

Front cover of Ludgershall Castle: Excavations by Peter Addyman
edited by Peter Ellis: Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History Society
Monograph series 2.  English Heritage

Ludgershall Manor and Castle:  the early years. 1015 - 1216

Ludgershall makes its appearance in the record books in 1015 as Lutegareshalle in the will of the Aetheling Athelstan and probably refers to it being a place where wild animals were caught in a spear trap.  From Athelstan, Lutegareshalle then passed to one Godwine the Driveller.  By the Norman Conquest it was in the hands of Edward of Salisbury, who was William Marshal’s great grandfather.

The Domesday book changed the name to Litlegarsele. In 1086 it had enough land for 3 plough teams.  Two ploughs and three serfs worked the demesne land.  There were also eight peasant cottage holders with one plough.  There was pastureland three furlongs in length and one furlong broad (there are 8 furlongs in a mile).  There was also woodland, half an acre long and two furlongs broad.  In 1086 it was worth £6.10s.  These statistics show it to have been a prosperous manor, average for its region.

Edward of Salisbury, an Englishman, held more lands in Wiltshire than any other tenant-in-chief and by 1081 was sheriff of the county.  He is thought to be the first person to build a fortified residence at Ludgershall, and some of the earliest structures in the northern enclosure of the castle may have been built on his watch.

By the reign of Henry I, Ludgershall was once again in crown hands and there are writs dated there from 1103.  By Stephen’s reign, the manor had come into the hands of John the Marshal.  How he obtained it is not clear in the records, but he certainly had it in his possession by 1138.  In all likelihood it was given to him by Stephen as part of a ‘loyalty package’ that also included Marlborough.  As former holders of the manor, the Salisbury family were not overjoyed about this, and John Marshal found himself facing the hostility of Patrick of Salisbury. The two came to blows over the possession of Ludgershall – as reported in the Histoire de Guillaume le Mareschal, and there was some bitter and bloody fighting.  The situation was resolved by John putting aside his wife, Aline, and marrying Patrick’s sister Sybilla – mother of the great William Marshal.

In 1141, Ludgershall Castle had its part to play in the civil war between King Stephen and the Empress Matilda.  Forced to flee Winchester attacked by Stephen’s forces, the Empress took refuge at Ludgershall en route to Devizes. 

It is not known how long John continued to hold Ludgershall.  He had to give up Marlborough in 1158 but there is no mention of him yielding Ludgershall.  It was back in royal hands by 1174/5.  This may have been due to William Marshal’s support of the Young King in the rebellion of 1173/4, but there is no solid proof as to the reasons and the where and when for Henry II taking Ludgershall into his own hands.  Henry stocked Ludgershall with wine in 1174 and 1175.  William Marshal witnessed a charter there in 1175 and Henry stayed there between June and August 1176.

Richard I granted the castle to his brother John in 1189, but reclaimed it in 1194 after John’s rebellion.  When Richard died, John once more came into possession of the castle and put it into the custody of his chief forester Hugh de Neville.  John visited Ludgershall on several occasions with his queen – in 1200, 1204, 1205, 1207, 1208 and 1210.  Following the 1204 visit an order was made in April 1205 ‘to make two new kitchens, one at Marlborugh and one at Ludgershall to make our meals, and in each kitchen have an oven made for cooking in each, two or three oxen.  In 1207-8 .  At this time there were also two chapels, one dedicated to St Catherine, the other to St. Leonard.  How long they had been there is not known.

Henry III went on to turn Ludgershall into a comfortable palatial residence on a small scale, which is outside the brief of this short blog post, but he went to town on it.  The 13^th century was Ludgershall Castle’s full glorious heyday.  By 1540 it was ruinous.  What stands today are foundations and the cores of some towers. There’s not a lot to see, but it’s free to visit and it still gives one a thrill to walk in the footsteps of Marshals and Kings! 

Summer Is Coming.

Today's research snippet. 

The sun is actually shining today and the last of the recent snow has melted out of the garden. Here in the English Midlands it is still very cold, but the hour has altered and tomorrow is April 1st. With this in mind I give you a very famous song that celebrates the season.
Somer is y-comen in (Summer has arrived) dates to circa 1260 and is a joyfyl celebration of that season. It's sung in the round and can be sung, according to the manuscript instructions by 4,3, or even 2 singers. The second singer begins when the first singer has sung the first line and so on. There is a debate as to whether the line about the stag is that he 'farts' or alternatively 'cavorts'. The latter would seem the more likely in the context of the song, but the original early Middle English could mean either. So your choice is does the stag leap for the joy of the summer season, or break wind because he's eating all that delicious lush grass!
Anyway, a delightful song to welcome in the warmer (I so hope so!) seasons.

Somer is y-comen in

Sing cuckóu, nou! Sing cuckóu!
Sing cuckóu! Sing cuckóu nou!

Somer is y-comen in,
Loudë sing, cuckóu!
Growëth sed and blowëth med
And springth the wodë nou
Sing cuckóu!

Ewë bletëth after lamb,
Lowth after cálve cóu;
Bullock stertëth, bukkë vertëth,
Merye sing, cuckóu

Cuckóu, cuckóu,
Wél singést thou, cuckóu,
Ne swik thou never nou!

Sing cuckoo now!
Summer has arrived
Sing loudly cuckoo
Seed grows, the meadow blossoms
The woods come into leaf now

The ewe bleats for the lamb
The cow lows for the calf
The bullock leaps, the stag cavorts (or farts)
Merrily sing cuckoo

Cuckoo, cuckoo
Well sing you cuckoo
Do not ever stop.

Unveiled! The Cover for THE SUMMER QUEEN

I thought I'd post the gorgeously evocative cover for THE SUMMER QUEEN.  I think it's beautiful! :-)
You can read the opening chapter at my excerpts blog here THE SUMMER QUEEN

Checking out the Exchequer part 1

This is the beginning of a document called the Dialogus de Scacario, which translates as the Course of the Exchequer. It explains how governmental money matters were handled in the 12th century and was written down in the last quarter of that century. It takes the form of a discourse between pupil and master and although an instructive text, is quite charming at times:

In the 23rd year of the reign of King Henry II, as I was sitting at a turret window overlooking the Thames, I was addressed by someone who said, very earnestly, ‘Master! Have you not read that “wisdom that is hid and treasure that is not seen are both profitless?”
‘Yes,’ said I; and he went on: ‘Why, then, do you not to teach others that knowledge of the Exchequer for which you are famous, and put it in writing lest it should die with you?’
I replied, ‘Why, brother, you have long sat at the exchequer yourself, and nothing is hidden from you, you are so precise. And the same is probably true of the others who sit there.’
‘But,’ said he, ‘as those who “grope in the dark without light” often stumble; so there are there many there who seeing do not see, and hearing do not understand.’
‘You speak profanely,’ I replied, ‘for my knowledge is not so great, nor of such importance; but perhaps those who, so to speak, hunt big game, have minds like eagle’s claws, which let slip small things and keep hold of big ones.’
‘Be it so!’ said he, ‘but though eagles fly high, they rest and refresh themselves on a lower level, and for that reason we beg to have these lower matters expanded to us, and the eagles may profit by them too.’
‘I was afraid,’ I replied, ‘to write a book about these matters, which are objects of sense, and of which familiarity breeds contempt, affording no scope for fine distinctions, or pleasing novelties.’
‘Those,’ said he, ‘who delight in novelties, or in hunting for fine distinctions, have Aristotle and Plato’s books. Let them hear them! Your book is not to be theoretical but practical.’
‘but,’ I objected, ‘what you want can only be expressed in vulgar and commonplace language.’
Then he almost lost his temper, for an eager heart brooks no delay, and said, ‘Writers on the liberal arts have compiled large treatises and wrapped them up in obscure language to conceal their ignorance and to make the arts more difficult. You are not undertaking a book on philosophy, but on the customs and laws of the exchequer, a commonplace subject in which you must needs to use appropriate and therefore commonplace language. Moreover, though it is generally permissible to invent new terms, I beg you not to be ashamed to employ the common and conventional words for the objects described, so that no additional difficulties may be created by the unusual language.’
‘I see you are vexed,’ said I, ‘but to be of good comfort; I shall take your advice. Get up, and sit down opposite me, and ask any questions which occur to you. If you ask anything out of the way, I am not ashamed to say, “I don’t know, but let us both consult wiser folk.”’
‘Just what I want,’ said he. ‘It may be disgraceful and laughable for an old man to be learning his alphabet, but I shall begin with my ABC.
Scholar. What is the Exchequer?
Master. The Exchequer (chessboard) is an oblong board measuring about ten feet by five, used as a table by those who sit at it, and with a rim around it about four finger breadths in height, to prevent anything set on it from falling off. Over the (upper) exchequer is spread a cloth, bought in Easter term, of a special pattern, black, ruled with lines a foot or a full span apart. In the spaces between them are placed the counters, in their ranks, as will be explained in another place. But thought such a board is called ‘exchequer,’ the name is transferred to the Court in session at it; so that if a litigant wins his case or a decision on any point is taken by common consent it is said to have happened ‘at the Exchequer’ of such a year. But where we know say ‘at the exchequer,’ they used to say ‘at the Tallies.’

Tally sticks

Scholar. Why is the court so called?
Master. I can think, for the moment, of no better reason than that it resembles a chessboard.
Scholar. Was its shape the only reason why our wise forefathers gave it a name? For they might equally well have called it a draught board.
Master. I was justified in calling you ‘precise.’ There is another less obvious reason. For as on the chess board the men are arranged in the ranks, and move or stand by definite rules and restrictions, some pieces in the foremost rank and others in the foremost position; here, too, some (the barons) preside, others assist ex officio, and nobody is free to overstep the appointed laws, as will appear later. Again, just as on a chess board, battle is joined between the Kings; here too the struggle takes place, and battle is joined, mainly between two persons, to wit, the Treasurer and the Sheriff who sits at his account, while the rest sit by as judges to see and decide.
Scholar. Does the Treasurer really take the account when there are many present who appear by their power to be more important?
Master. It is obvious that the treasurer takes the account from the Sheriff, because it is from him that an account is required when the King so pleases. Nor would that be demanded of him unless he had received it. Some say, however, that the Treasurer and Chamberlains are only accountable for those sums which are entered in the Roll as ‘in the treasury.’ But the more correct view is that they are answerable for all that is written in the Roll, as will appear later.
Scholar. Is the Exchequer where this conflict takes place the only Exchequer?
Master. No. For there is a lower exchequer also called the Receipt, where the money received is counted and entered on rolls and tallies, in order that the account may be made up from them in the Upper Exchequer. But both spring from the same root, because whatever is found in the Upper Exchequer to be due, is paid in the lower, and what is paid in the Lower is credited in the Upper.’

More to come another occasion! Interesting I thought that the word changed from ‘Tallies’ to the ‘Exchequer’ in the 12thC.

A Bit of A Shambles

A glimpse via Winchester into the dealings of the medieval town butchers.

First of all obtain your meat. The butchers of Winchester would sometimes buy their meat on the hoof from local suppliers and see to it being brought into town. On other occasions they would await the drovers, who had purchased the beasts further afield and driven them to market. Sometimes the drovers would fatten the livestock in crofts and fields in the suburbs before taking them into the city for slaughter.
In Winchester, it’s not entirely clear where the meat was slaughtered, but circumstantial evidence and educated guesses suggest that it was done in the garden plots owned by the butchers in Fleshmonger street, and there is also the likelihood that some beasts were slaughtered in the busy High Street itself. By custom all the bulls in the city were to be baited before being slaughtered. This was for the purposes of popular entertainment and was echoed in towns throughout the country. Many places still have areas called The Bull Ring. At one stage the mayors of the city actually had the bulls baited outside their houses. On some feast occasions, daughters were required to lend their own dogs to bait the bulls of others. Butchers were often fined for allowing their dogs to wander and there seems to have been a fixed time of day when the dogs were allowed out. Before and after this fixed time, the dogs had to be kept indoors were chained up.
In the 14th century in Winchester, two meat inspectors were elected from among the town butchers. Their primary duty seems to have been to inspect pork, which was particularly liable to infestation. There is a record of one of their presentations, concerning the sale of a leprous pig. A century later, their brief had expanded to cover the inspection of all meat, including the foul and insanitary beef that had been sold by one William Sequence . They had also to see that all butchers took their pig carcasses to the scalding house. Great care was also taken to ensure that butchers sold their meat fresh and there was a time limit of three days after slaughtering, beyond which meat could not be sold. Which again is interesting. Did people take it home and hang it further to tenderise it?
There were frequent court cases concerned with the waste from the butchers’ trade. Butchers were often taken to court for throwing blood or bloody water onto the public ground in the High Street. In 1429 Henry Coupre and his servants washed tubs and bowls full of the blood of pigs and other beasts at the new common well, and caused the water to lie in the High Street.
Disposing of offal and entrails was another problem. They were supposed to be disposed of by running water and there was an appointed place in Colebrook Street where this had to be done. Entrails had to be cut up small to avoid impeding the flow of water. Offal being carried to the tipping place had to be covered. Many butchers could not be bothered to carry their offal the 600 yards to the stream (they were not allowed to take a shortcut through the cathedral cemetery) and dumped it either in the cathedral cemetery or a nearby stream.
In Winchester, beef, mutton, and pork were sold in considerable quantity, with the likelihood that pork and mutton were the most frequently consumed.
What excellent material for inspiration! I can just imagine a gruesome medieval mystery where the pile of remains in the cathedral cemetery turns out to be non animal!

Sources: A Survey of Medieval Winchester by Derek Keane

Newcomers to Jerusalem

front of a reliquary altar cross c.1170

This is 12^th century Syrian raconteur Usama Ibn Munquid talking about newly arrived pilgrims from Europe and their problematic attitudes to matters of faith in the Middle East.

Everyone who is a fresh emigrant from the Frankish lands is ruder in character than those who have become acclimatised and have had long associations with Muslims. Here is an illustration of their rude character.

Whenever I visited Jerusalem I always entered the Aqsa mosque, which was occupied by the Templars (al-dawiyyah), who were my friends, would evacuate the little adjoining mosque so that I might pray in it.  One day I entered this mosque, repeated the first formula, ‘Allah is great,’ and stood up in the act of praying, upon which one of the Franks rushed on me, caught hold of me and turned my face eastwards saying, ‘This is the way thou shouldst pray!’ A group of Templars hastened to him, seized him and repelled him from me.  I resumed my prayer.  This same man, while the others were otherwise busy, rushed once more on me and turned my faced eastwards saying, ‘This is the way thou shouldst pray!’ The Templars again came in and expelled him.  They apologised to me saying, ‘This is a stranger who has only recently arrived from the land of the Franks and he has never before seen anyone praying except eastwards.’ Thereupon I said to myself ‘I have heard enough of prayer.’ So I went out and have ever been surprised at the conduct of this devil of a man and, at the change in the colour of his face, his trembling and his sentiment at the sight of one praying towards the qiblah. (the direction of the Ka’bah in the holy city, Mecca).

I saw one of the Franks come to Al-Amnir Mu in-al-Din (may Allah’s mercy rest upon his soul!) When he was in the Dome of the rock and say to him, ‘Dost thou want to see God as a child?’ Mu in-al-Din said, ‘Yes.’ The Frank walked ahead of us until he showed us the picture of Mary with Christ (may peace be upon him!) as an infant in her lap.  He then said, ‘This is God as a child.’ But Allah is exalted far above what the infidels say about him!