Category Archives: Anglo-Norman
Year First Visited Clipstone
- “…monarchy could take advantage of the proximity of the great game reserves created in the royal forests such as Sherwood…The forest was a legal definition, associated with Forest Law. Perhaps one third of England was under this law during the twelfth century. The law was intended to protect the beasts of the chase and to encourage their welfare so that they would thrive and enable the kings to have vast stocks to hunt.” (9)
- “The presence of Sherwood Forest was a key reason for the monarchy’s interest in Clipstone. Forest Law was introduced by the Normans to a land that was not used to such restrictions. Although there was a concept of the ownership of woodlands and the animals within them during the Saxon period, if those animals strayed into another man’s wood he was free to hunt them. Deer were not the preserve of the monarchy alone. The Norman idea of a forest set aside for the enjoyment of the king alone comes from the laws of Charlemagne and northern France.” (24-5)
- “Forests were such a symbol of royal power and authority that Henry II reneged upon his wartime promise to reform the Forest Law…The law therefore became a stringent political tool and a survey of the forests in 1175 was carried out in person by the king…it was partly the tension caused by the extents of the forests that contributed to the outbreak of civil war between John and his barons…Magna Carta attempted to redress the balance but had no great effect…The Charter of the Forest in 1217 agreed to the removal of all land added to the forest by Henry II…but it was not until Henry III came of age that he ordered the enquiry of 1227 which fixed the extent of Sherwood so that the east of Nottinghamshire ceased to be forest.” (25)
- “The penalties that could be imposed upon the local population at Clipstone for poaching the king’s deer, or even for cutting down the trees upon which the animals relied for their habitat, were severe….Although the 1217 Charter of the Forest removed the death penalty for poaching there were still a severe punishments [sic] for transgression…the Forest Law was so unpopular and controversial that even his [Henry II’s] own treasurer Richard Fitzneal wrote disapprovingly of it in the Dialogues de Scaccario: “The Forest has its own laws based, not on the common law of the realm, but on the arbitrary decision of the ruler; so that what is done in accordance with the law is not called ‘just’ without qualification but just according to forest law.” (27)
This week, in English Studies Abroad (see previous post), we are “visiting” Bath. By “visiting,” we are focusing our study and readings on the city, as we will do with different locations (or figures) each week. For Bath, my goal is to focus on the striations of history, important not only for this particular place, but also to set the tone for the rest of class as well as provide a basic overview of British history. It’s been intriguing preparing for this week because, not being an expert in the nitty-gritty details of each city, there are aspects I am learning along with my students. I love it as it increases my enthusiasm with the material.
We started our “visit” with the city’s Roman-British history, which, of course, centers on the public baths, the hot springs being the reason people settled around it in the first place. Originally a shrine to the deity Sulis, the Romans named the area Aquae Sulis, co-opting the deity and aligning it with their Minerva. The Roman preoccupation with public baths is well-known, even to the point that they found it necessary to build them into the frontier forts along Hadrian’s Wall. I visited Chesters Fort a couple of years ago; the baths there take up about a third of the settlement (the following is a photo of the remains of the baths).
I have been having a particularly entertaining time reading about the curse tablets people would throw into the waters, hoping to get revenge on those who have wronged them. The tablets, some on display at the Roman Baths, which we will visit, are quite explicit – asking for the blood of the cursed or something a bit more or less gruesome (interesting images and background on the tablets).
When the Romans pulled out of England, we can imagine what places like Bath must have looked like, particularly a few centuries later, with the remains and ruins of their baths and stone walls. I ruminated in class about the idea that the images we see in the Exeter elegy The Ruin, if we step back from metaphorical readings, might be a glimpse of the experience of the Anglo-Saxon living with the physical Roman past.
Wondrous is this foundation – the fates have broken
and shattered this city; the work of giants crumbles.
The roofs are ruined, the towers toppled,
frost in the mortar has broken the gate,
torn and worn and shorn by the storm,
eaten through with age. (ll 1-5)
I like to think about the connection to our own journey as we explore the ruins of generations that came after this poem’s composition. Of course, it is widely speculated, and often debunked that The Ruin is written about Bath, but it is still an idea I find poetic.
The hot springs appear to have been widely known, if their appearance in the histories is any indication. Nennius, for instance, included them as one of his “Wonders of Britain,” a list often attached to the end of manuscripts of his Historia Brittonum. The pools at Bath were described as having magical properties – cooling and warming upon the desire of the bather. The reputation no doubt was increased by the perceived medicinal or miraculous, depending on your point of view, healing qualities. By the time we reach Geoffrey of Monmouth, Bath is associated with the great Battle of Badon Hill, thereby incorporating it into the Arthurian tradition to which Geoffrey’s work greatly contributes. In his Prophecies of Merlin, it is foreseen that Bath/Badon’s waters “shall grow cold, and their salubrious waters engender death” (VII.3).
A portion of our discussion has focused on Bath’s position throughout its Roman and Anglo-Saxon history as a border or frontier town. As we can see from this map of Roman Britannia (c. 150AD), Bath, not located on the map but which lies to the south and a bit to the west of Gloucester, is situated on the outer western borders of Roman-occupied territory.
By the time of King Alfred the Great, Bath was a contested area between Mercia and Wessex (and even more so as the Danes pressed in from the north, before and after the Danelaw was created).
When Alfred began building up his series of fortifications throughout the kingdom, Bath was one of these burhs, listed in the Burghal Hidage, a document containing an account of these fortifications and their taxes (always an important piece of information for kings). At Bath, he had masons use the existing Roman stone as part of their reconstruction and strengthening of the city walls.
The borderland space that Bath occupied created unique opportunities, including its development as an influential market town. That particular characteristic carried over for quite some time, particularly as it became known for its wool trade. The merchant guild was formally recognized in the 12th century. Eventually, Catherine of Alexandria became the patron saint of the city – her wheel of torture perceived in the requisite spinning wheels. How well known Bath became for its wool and textiles can be seen in Chaucer’s “General Prologue” to The Canterbury Tales. We find the Wife of Bath naturally associated with her clothing and her cloth-making skills: “Of clooth-makyng she hadde swich an haunt/She passed hem of Ypres and of Gaunt” (ll. 449-50). Readers would have more than likely been very aware of Bath’s foremost industry.
We found it of particular note that Bath, after the Norman Conquest, was purchased by John of Tours following the Rebellion of 1088 between William the Conqueror’s sons. The winner William Rufus – quite a guy. He liked to sell or grant lands and bishoprics to his personal favorites. The note-worthy part of this exchange is the fact that John of Tours was a doctor (he was at the Conqueror’s deathbed). Given the persistent belief about the healing qualities of the springs, we can perhaps speculate that his occupation led to the rise in the next century of several hospitals, St. John’s, for instance. In the 13th century, leper houses developed, segregated baths built to ease their suffering. The hospitals, as was the wont of their medieval incarnations, served as hospices for the elderly, who were often soothed by the hot baths.
There is so much more to think about, particularly the history of another of our destinations, Bath Abbey, which has fascinating historical striations on its own and is connected on every level to the city’s various pasts, from the Anglo-Saxon when it was first built to the later hospitals to its present incarnation. We can stop at medieval Bath or continue on with Queen Elizabeth I’s favor and the revival of its spas, which are extremely popular by the time we get to Jane Austen and Bath’s appearance in several of her works, including Persuasion (my favorite of the novels) and Northanger Abbey.
An exercise I found enlightening as we prepare to visit Bath is a site put together for those interested in walking tours of southern England. In its description of the walk, it overlays the outlines of medieval Bath with the present-day city. Comparing these descriptions to Google Maps (in satellite mode) is a useful way to visualize landmarks and timelines.
Our Google Map project is getting off the ground, which you can see here (unfortunately, WordPress has not caught up with the new GM embed code). Also, here is the link to a collection of some of our online readings in Readlists (including background, news articles, texts, maps, etc.).
Next week, King Arthur!
Chaucer, Geoffrey. “From The Canterbury Tales: General Prologue, lines 447-478: The Wife of Bath.” Librarius, 1997. Web. 18 Jan. 2014.
Davis, Graham, and Penny Bonsall. A History of Bath: Image and Reality. Lancaster, UK: Carnegie, 2012. Print.
Geoffrey of Monmouth. “Arthurian Passages from The History of the Kings of Britain.” The Camelot Project. University of Rochester, n.d. Web. 18 Jan. 2014.
Manco, Jean. Bath Past. Building History, 15 Oct. 2007. Web. 18 Jan. 2014.
“Two Old English Elegies from the Exeter Book: The Wanderer and The Ruin.” Trans. R.M. Liuzza. English 401: Introduction to Medieval Literature. University of Tennessee-Knoxville, n.d. Web. 18 Jan. 2014.
Weissman, Hope Phyllis. “Why Chaucer’s Wife Is from Bath.” Chaucer Review 15.1 (1980): 11.36. JSTOR. Web. 18 Jan. 2014.
Day 3: Medieval Drama and Marie de France
Today began with me playing moderator to a session sponsored by the Medieval and Renaissance Drama Society, “Post Death/After Life on the Medieval and Early Modern Stage. Two of the presenters are friends and colleagues of mine, and I was pleased to moderate for them. The three papers were really thought-provoking. For instance, the N-Town Lazarus and the Chester Antichrist plays have a great deal of conditional language in them – “if…then.” The Antichrist in the Chester states (paraphrasing), “If I can indeed bring these people back from the dead, then you shall believe in me.” The consolers in the N-Town make conditional statements concerning what Lazarus should do on his death bed. It made me think about the nature of such statements and how they would work very well in drama. For one, it encourages anticipation – will this indeed happen? Or will such and such character really “fall for it”? It also encourages the audience to consider the conditions on offer. Do they believe it? Would they react differently? Is a character presenting “truth” or is he offering “false truth”? The conditional statements work well in developing engagement.
Another thought this panel raised concerns the Ars Moriendi. I have studied the Ars Memoria quite a bit, and it occurred to me while listening to the paper on N-Town by my friend that I should look in to the Ars Moriendi as well. Its discussion of what to do at the end of life, how to meet death, might have some great implications for memory.
After this session, I attended the International Marie de France Society business meeting. I have decided to join, which means I need to return my membership form (note to self). Afterwards I stayed for the Teaching Marie de France roundtable I mentioned here yesterday. Some interesting points of discussion were raised. The first was a link to the site Performing Medieval Narrative Today, which I think is going to be an excellent resource for teaching. In addition, an historian was on the panel, who talked about using Marie de France – Bisclavret, in particular – in his history courses. This is a topic near and dear to my heart, as I feel history and literature are almost inseparable, and I enjoy hearing about teachers who make the connections between them. I am going to consider using his primary source suggestions in my own teaching of Marie: Fulbert of Chartres, “On Feudal Obligations” and Ranulf de Glanvill, “Treatise on the Laws and Customs of the Kingdom of England”. Juxtaposing these next to Bisclavret could promote some productive discussions about lord/vassal relationships, as demonstrated by Bisclavret and the King.
All for now – I am off to a business meeting of the Society for the Study of Disability in the Middle Ages!
Day 2: Thinking about the Kzoo Program
This morning I am reflecting on the program of sessions. It’s part of the ritual (or my ritual – I don’t know about anyone else!) to plan out the sessions I want to attend and think about the broad spectrum of work offered by my fellow medievalists. It’s often a mind-boggling experience, given the depth and breadth of topics and disciplines. The sheer number of subjects of which I haven’t even previously heard is humbling as well as exciting.
I am rather conditioned at this point to pick out those sessions and papers with any reference to memory in them. This year, the vast majority of those about memory are Anglo-Saxon-specific. Two sessions in particular, “Memory and Community in Anglo-Saxon England” (413) and “Memory at Work In Anglo-Saxon England” (519), are entirely devoted to the subject. The first is primarily comprised of papers on Beowulf; the title “Burning to Remember, Eating to Forget” has immense possibilities. The latter session includes a title that intrigues me – “Memory and Identity Formation: A Cognitive Construction of the Self in The Wanderer.” I often teach this text through the concept of memory, particularly its bittersweet components. Is it better to remember or to forget? Which causes the most pain? This title makes me consider the possibilities of the loss of memory dealing the final “death blow” to The Wanderer’s previous life. Is it in the pain of remembering that he still retains what is left of his kin, of his role in society? If he forgets, will he, in essence, cease to exist? Another session, “Text and Image II: Memory and Visual Space” (232), looks interesting. As is not uncommon, there are several individual papers exploring the connections between death and memory.
Coinciding with being hired at Fitchburg State, I have found my interest in panels shifting. Now, at least half of the time, I choose sessions based upon what might be beneficial to me in the classroom. For instance, a roundtable on Friday (260), “Teaching Marie de France” (sponsored by the International Marie de France Society), is calling to me. As I was just mentioning last night, my students adore Marie de France. It has been one of the biggest surprises as a teacher; for some reason, I did not expect her to be such a draw. However, she does have everything – romance, intrigue, werewolves, knight-saving damsels, resurrecting weasels. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised. At any rate, I am curious what others have to say.
Then there is always the almost hagiographic torture of the sessions that are happening while I am already booked!
I need a rest, and this is only the program!
As I mentioned on a previous post, I took a trip to England this summer, both as (primarily!) a vacation and as a bit of a test run for a future study abroad course I will be leading in 2014 (that date just looks impossible and yet it is incredibly near). Here, as promised, are a few notes…
Bodiam Castle, East Sussex, built 1385. I actually chose this particular site somewhat at random. Travelling with my six-year-old nephew, I wanted to make sure he saw a little of everything, and this castle has…wait for it…a moat! As it turns out, it was a good decision. In a remote area, Bodiam is rather an idyllic setting , which explains, as I learned later, why it was such a popular destination in the 18th century – a perfect opportunity to discuss medievalism and the varying interest in the period up to present times.
Bodiam Castle, chapel ruins
I was particularly intrigued by the chapel ruins at Bodiam. With no roof and the only remnants the empty window frames, it invokes a sense of the passage of time. It’s easy enough to imagine what it originally looked like, and yet there is the bittersweet melancholy of decay. Bodiam was the first site we visited, and I think it is an effective starting point – low-key, yet interesting, and definitely beautiful.
Westminster Abbey, Chapter House
Westminster Abbey, London (well, really, Westminster). Westminster needs no justification as a place to visit. The amount of connections that can be made at the Abbey are limitless. Chaucer and Poet’s Corner. Edward the Confessor. Coronations. Architecture. The place is packed full (quite literally) of history and culture. Constructed in the mid-13th century, the Chapter House, however, deserves a great deal of attention. From the oldest door in England (1050!) to its paintings and stone benches, it is by far my favorite spot in Westminster.
Tower of London
Tower of London. Like Westminster, the Tower really needs no justification. Its historical striations are complex and compact, building on each other and creating a spider web of English culture. Here is the moment to connect medieval and Early Modern history together, demonstrating how it develops rather than abruptly shifts. For myself, I am always intrigued by the Norman presence within the White Tower, particularly the chapel.
Tower of London, inside St. Thomas’s Tower
Canterbury Cathedral, Kent. For a medievalist, every trip to Canterbury Cathedral is a pilgrimage. It is easily one of the most prominent literary sites, of course. This was my first time at Canterbury, and it didn’t disappoint. Winding through streets, looking for the cathedral, then finding it at the end of an alley. The gateway obscuring it until you get close enough to peer through, and then your breath is taken away. I was fortunate in that it was a beautiful day – all blue skies and cotton clouds. When we first arrived, there was a graduation ceremony taking place inside, and, as luck would have it, the choir was singing. A perfect moment. Like any medieval visitor, I stared straight up in awe. It’s difficult not to. The sheer scope of the cathedral is unbelievable.
The crypt is the place to go first. We were found by a lady working there who told wonderful stories about Becket. I found it easier to conceptualize the inside of the cathedral after having seen the crypt.
Canterbury Cathedral, shrine of Thomas Becket
The shrine to Thomas Becket is also a powerful aspect of the cathedral (and well-represented with the above sculpture and the single candle marking where his tomb rested) – and again the opportunities for teaching are endless.
Dover Castle, Kent. I have already posted about Dover, so I won’t say much here. Still, I wanted to include a photo.
Glastonbury Abbey, site of alleged tombs of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere
Glastonbury Abbey, Somerset. If I absolutely must choose my favorite site from this trip, I will have to go with Glastonbury Abbey (the birds of prey exhibit and being able to hold a falcon definitely added to the experience). Given one of my interests is Arthurian literature, being able to visit the ruins was a special treat. It helps that it lived up to expectations as a peaceful place, worthy of all the stories of its sacredness and import. There are two signs (one of which is above) marking the Arthurian significance of the site. I think it would be quite a revelation to students after reading any version of the death of Arthur. Hic jacet sepultus inclitus rex Arthurus in insula Avalonia .
Lindisfarne, Holy Island, Northumberland. Lindisfarne is a long drive up north, but well worth it. There’s an inescapable excitement in crossing over the causeway – after consulting the tidal charts just to make sure you don’t get stranded there! The little village, surrounding the Priory ruins, and the castle looming in the distance make for quite the atmosphere. I don’t think students can appreciate the vulnerability of Lindisfarne to the Viking attack in 793 until seeing it. There is an exhibition concerning the Gospel – the manuscript itself is travelling to the island, I believe, next year. I was concerned that the Island was too far out of the way, but I really wouldn’t want the students to miss it.
Lindisfarne Priory, view from the sea side of the island
Chesters Roman Fort, Hadrian’s Wall
Chesters Roman Fort, Hexham, Northumberland. Chesters was built to guard the part of Hadrian’s Wall that crossed over the bridge on the River North Tyne. The ruins are very well-preserved, particularly the rather intricate bathhouse. It’s an excellent example of life in Roman Britain, with the museum providing all kinds of artifacts from Chesters and other parts of the Wall. There are two sections of the Wall itself still intact, demonstrating how the fort and the Wall connected. I chose Chesters for the sake of ease of travel; however, Corbridge Roman Town is another site I will consider in the future as a companion to it.
Sherwood Forest, Major Oak
Sherwood Forest, Nottinghamshire. I said above that Glastonbury was my favorite site. This is only because I put Sherwood in a class of its own. There are many things I could say about the forest, but I will limit myself to its pedagogical assets. First on that list is, of course, its literary connections. Seeing Sherwood makes the stories real. However, beyond that, I think the sheer age of the forest is its value. It is difficult, even for New Englanders, to grasp the weight of time in England as compared to the United States. In Sherwood, it is inescapable.
I think the key to a study abroad trip of this nature is variety – expressing ideas, history, and culture from the perspective of different types of people, different architecture, different ways to connect what they have read to what they are seeing. With all of these sites, we have cathedrals, abbeys, castles, rural areas, cities, islands, forests, etc. We have Roman, Anglo-Saxon, Norman, Middle English, Early Modern. In case you haven’t picked up on it, the word “connection” is very important to me – as an individual, as a researcher, and as a teacher. I have some tweaking to do as well as some adding (I want to include some libraries into the mix), but I’m calling the test run a success.
I, naturally, have all kinds of texts in mind to assign for this course, but I would be interested in hearing ideas about what you would assign as companions to these sites.
PS For more photos, see my Flickr set.
First of all, I commented in my last update that Facebook was an entirely different post. Well, I wrote that post – but for a different blog, my colleague Ben Railton’s American Studier. If you’re interested in my musings about social media and American views of isolation, check it out here.
I also mentioned that I would be doing a series of posts on various sites I plan to visit this summer in England.
Today, let’s go to Dover Castle.
(VERY) Brief history:
Potential Iron Age earthworks
Roman lighthouse, c.50CE (the Roman invasion is usually dated to 43CE)
Saxon fortified settlement
Norman invasion, 1066
- Due to Dover’s strategic location, it played a role even in the early negotiations between William the Conqueror (when he was still just the Bastard) and Harold Godwinson. According to William of Poitiers (of course, William was on the Conqueror’s payroll, so we have to be a little careful about his statements) in his Gesta Guillelmi Ducis Normannorum et Regis Anglorum (“Deeds of William Duke of the Normans and King of the English,” 1071-77), Dover was part of the fealty Harold swore to the Duke, promising to fortify the castle for William at his own expense:
“traditurum interim ipsius militum custo dise castrum Doveram, studio atque sumptu suo commu uitum”
- Later, after the Battle of Hastings, William, on his way to his coronation, made a point of stopping at Dover – a side trip that ended in flames, according to William of Poitiers. The Duke then had a timber fortification constructed.
Henry II, 1133-89
- Designed by Henry’s architect, Maurice the Engineer, the actual castle was built between 1180-85.
- It was designed as both a defensive fortification and a location for royal ceremony.
- It is believed that Henry took advantage of the new popularity of the nearby Canterbury Cathedral, after the murder of St.Thomas Becket. Ironic, given his involvement in the death.
First Barons’ War, 1216
- The French king Louis VIII tried to take the castle with the help of some of the barons.
- During the battle, the only example of a counter tunnel was created. The tunnels, and later additions, played a role in Napoleonic times and during the World Wars.
Well, any one of the bullet points above would be enough to make me want to spend days tromping around the castle and its environs. (If I’m completely honest, a castle wouldn’t even need to have a history to make me happy.) However, I’ll pick one reason here. Henry II. My favorite English king. Was he a good guy? Probably not – okay, really not. But is he cool? Absolutely. I wrote an encyclopedia article on him several years back. An excerpt:
At the time of Henry’s succession to the throne, which was the first peaceful transition of power in several generations, he was the most powerful lord in Europe; he controlled over half of the French territories through inheritance and marriage, an area stretching over 500 miles, approximately the length of Britain. As a result of Henry’s mass accumulation of land, the power structure in Europe changed considerably in the 1150’s; French duchies that had once been in competition with one another now owed allegiance to one man, who was also the king of England. Given the breadth and wealth of his holdings, Henry could claim to be more influential than the king of France, his ostensible overlord. By the end of his reign, his provinces would extend all the way to the Mediterranean, successfully preventing any territorial expansion on the part of the French monarchy. In Britain, he effected the restoration of Cumberland, Westmorland, and Northumbria from the king of Scotland in 1157, conquered parts of Ireland in the 1170’s, which he later granted to his son John, and negotiated the fealty of the Welsh princes. 
All interesting developments. Great history. But my overriding interest in him is simple: his wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine. My medieval heroine. To think of wandering around a site Henry II commissioned and where Eleanor stayed from time to time never fails to make me shiver with excitement.
- Dover’s long, varied history provides an excellent example of the early history of Britain. Iron Age. Romans. Saxons. Normans. Plantagenets. They all left their mark, and they all wanted to exploit Dover’s strategic location.
- The way the medieval history of the castle is woven into more recent events, such as WWII, makes for a poignant connection.
- The “history” written by such men as William of Poitiers allows for a moment to consider the genre and the biases of particular individuals.
- The court of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine is the center of much of the literary activity of the twelfth century. Locating it in a place like Dover makes it real.
- The relationship between Canterbury and Dover provides some interesting considerations.
- Have one of your own to add?
There is more, so much more, about Dover Castle – its use as a defensive fortification, its political significance to Henry, the restoration of its Great Tower…the list could go on.
 William of Poitiers, Scriptores rerum gestarum Willelmi Conquestoris, ed. John Allen Giles (London, 1845), 108.
 “Henry II,” The Early Peoples of Britain and Ireland: An Encyclopedia, ed. Christopher A. Snyder (Oxford: Greenwood, 2008), 303.