Sword at Sunset by Rosemary Sutcliff

512 pp; Chicago Review Press, 2008
ISBN-10: 1556527594

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In this episode in Rosemary Sutcliff's fine Arthurian novel Sword at Sunset, Arthur is lost while walking in the mountains, and must spend the night in an isolated farmhouse. His hostess (here named Ygerna -- like Igraine, or is it Morgana?) sends the servants away and gives Arthur a drugged cup of wine. We then have the following memorable passage, told in the first person by Arthur, in which Ygerna says: "I knew that you would come, one day."

I frowned, and shook my head in a last attempt to clear it. "Are you a witch, then, to know the thing that has not yet come to happen?" And even as I spoke, another thought sprang to my mind. "A witch, or…"

Again she seemed to read my thinking; and she laughed up into my face. "A witch? Are you afraid to wake in the morning on the bare mountain side, and find three lifetimes gone by? Ah, but whatever happens tomorrow, surely tonight is sweet?"

With the speed and liquid grace of a cat, she slip-turned from her kneeling position, and next instant was lying across my thighs, her strange ravaged face turned up to mine and her dark hair flowing over us both. "Are you afraid to hear the music of the Silver Branch? Are you afraid to hear the singing of Rhiannon's Birds that makes men forget?"

I had not noticed the color of her eyes before. They were deeply blue, and veined like the petals of the blue cranesbill flower, the lids faintly stained with purple like the beginning of corruption. "I think you would not need the Birds of Rhiannon to make men forget," I said thickly, and bent towards her.

Never fear, it doesn't get any more explicit than that. But ruinous consequences ensue. The woman is Arthur's half-sister, although he doesn't know it at the time.

Here's an interview with author Rosemary Sutcliff, from the excellent Camelot Project at the University of Rochester. Sadly, she spent most of her life in a wheelchair, but by God, the woman could write.

William Marshall: Trial By Combat

The English knight William Marshall was regent of England under Henry III, as mentioned in  a previous post, The Brussels Hoard. In this true-life account taken from his biography, the young Marshall confronts his accusers.

"In the year 1180 William was in the summit of his career in the young king's court. Valued for his prowess in battle and his sagacity in counsel, he was favored by Prince Henry over all other members of his household. But his eminence aroused the anger of a number of his comrades-in-arms. They circulated the rumor that William was the lover of the young queen, Margaret of France…

"Naturally William wished to put an end to these rumors and clear his name as quickly as possible. His opportunity came in the autumn of 1182....Categorically denying the truth of the rumor that he was Queen Margaret's lover, he offered to prove his innocence in battle. On three successive days he would fight the three strongest of his accusers. If any one of them defeated him, his master could hang him as a traitor.

"When young Henry refused to accept this offer, William proposed that a finger should be cut off his right hand and that he should then be allowed to fight the strongest of his enemies. But Prince Henry had no intention of bringing the matter to trial. As soon as William realized that his master's purpose was to drive him from the court, he demanded a safe conduct to the frontier of the Angevin lands."  
 

From "William Marshall: Knight-Errant, Baron, and Regent of England" by Sidney Painter, Medieval Academy of America © copyright 1982

The Brussels Hoard

The Brussels Hoard of 1908

The Long Cross Coinage of Henry III

by Ron Churchill and Bob Thomas
Baldwin’s and the British Numismatic Society, 2012

Yet another example of hidden mysteries: as explained in this newly published book, workers tearing down an old tavern in Brussels uncovered something bricked up in a vault in the basement. The hoard they found there included 140,000 British coins. Indications are that they were last concealed in 1266 or 1267, so many must date to the reign of Henry III.

Oddly, Coin World states: "Most of the coins are worth only their silver value." Surprising, since they're over 700 years old.

The discovery was made in 1908. Apparently a portion of the coins were melted down for their silver content in the interim.  But these coins are going to become available to the public soon. It's inevitable: I'll buy one.

As an aside: Henry III's regent was William Marshall, who deserves a post of his own in this blog. That will follow soon.


Anglo-Scottish Border Reivers

The Steel Bonnets: The Story of the Anglo-Scottish Border Reivers
by George MacDonald Fraser
Barrie and Jenkins, 1971, 384 pages

In his history of the outlaws and border lords of the thirteenth through sixteenth centuries, the author of the Flashman books notes that Richard Nixon and Lyndon Johnson were both descendants of three notable Scottish Border clans:

"Lyndon Johnson's is a face and figure that everyone in Dumfriesshire knows; the lined, leathery Northern head and rangy, rather loose-limbed frame belong to one of the commonest Border types.... Richard Nixon is the perfect example. The blunt, heavy features, the dark complexion, the burly body, and the whole air of dour hardness are as typical of the Anglo-Scottish frontier as the Roman Wall. Take thirty years off his age and you could put him straight into the front row of the Hawick scrum and hope to keep out of his way. It is difficult to think of any face that would fit better under a steel bonnet."

Reivers also have a role to play in George Garret's historical novel The Succession (Doubleday and Company, 1983, 538 pages).

Medieval Shaft Beneath Sofa

Bearing out the truth of a previous post: hidden mysteries abound in England. Here we have a true story from the Daily Telegraph (London). While replacing a floor, a man in Plymouth uncovered a medieval well beneath the sofa in his living room. No wonder the floor was uneven.

 Research shows his property was woodland until 1895, but the well itself dates back to the 16th century.  The Telegraph calls it a "medieval shaft," which is a nice choice of words. After digging down 17 feet, he discovered an old sword.

For display purposes, "he has installed lights in the structure and the well has been covered up by a trapdoor beside his sofa." Extraordinary! Read the full story here, on the Telegraph site. Compared to this, my discovery of the main intake to the furnace is as nothing... nothing.