Urquhart Castle, one of Scotland’s largest medieval castles, standing on the shore of Loch Ness, was one of two main inspirations for Niall’s home, Castle Glenmirril.  (Castle Tioram was the other.)  It sits on a promontory jutting out into the loch, at the north end of the Great Glen.

 Urquhart dates from medieval days, or earlier.  Adomnan’s Life of Columba tells us that a structure of some sort stood on the same site as early as the 6th Century, most likely the home of an elderly Pict noble, Emchath, whom St. Columba converted, on his way to visit King Brude.  As an interesting side note, other sources say it was on his trip to visit Brude that St. Columba became the first recorded observer of the Loch Ness monster.  He saw a sea creature attacking a man, and drove it off by making the sign of the cross and ordering it to leave.  As a second interesting sidenote, reports say that most Nessie sightings do occur near Urquhart.  I guess it’s as popular among behemoth semi-mythical sea creatures as among humans!

Despite evidence of some structure on the site that early, there are no actual records of Urquhart Castle until the 1200’s.  The land on which it is built was once the home of the Durward family, leading many to believe they built the castle.  In 1250, Alan Durward, a powerful Scottish noble and brother-in-law of King Alexander III, held Urquhart.  When Durward died in 1268, the castle went to the powerful Comyn family, Lords of Badenoch, who in later years became enemies of the Bruce family.

Through the years, however, Urquhart has gone through many hands.  In 1296, Edward I (Longshanks) of England,  threw the might of his trebuchet against Urquhart, tearing down its walls and taking it.  2 years later, the Scots regained it.  In 1303, Longshanks took it again, only to have it re-captured in 1308 by Robert the Bruce, who gave it to his nephew, Sir Thomas Randolph, future Earl of Moray.

From the 1500’s until 1912, it remained mostly in the hands of the Grants, although it was frequently attacked, and on occasion captured by, the MacDonalds in the 1500’s, and by the Covenanters in 1644.  1689 saw the last government troops living in Urquhart, and in 1691 or ‘92, depending on the source, Williamite forces blew up the castle to prevent it being used as a Jacobite stronghold.  For part of its history, in the 1700’s, it lived the ignominous life of a stone quarry, but today is the third busiest of Historic Scotland’s sites.

Creating setting puts your reader right there, and makes the story real for them.  In recent years, I think setting in fiction has become less elaborately described than in previous centuries when people did not have television, and words must create their vision and entertainment.  Descriptions of setting in older novels might go on for paragraphs.  Today, readers are less patient with such elaborate and lengthy description, but it remains important.

Choose your words wisely, pick words that say a lot in the shortest possible space.  Think about what words really convey full, vivid meanings.   Give a few details.  For instance, does the house in your story merely have white walls?  Or are they antiseptic white, off-white or cream?  Are they freshly scrubbed, has someone put hand-down motifs across the top, or do they sport a host of fingerprints at waist level?  More interesting yet, does your character glance up and see large footprints on the walls two feet above her head?  Honing in on even a detail or two brings an added depth to your setting, in addition to telling something about your characters.

Use all 5 senses.  If at all possible, experience your setting first hand, and if not, use the internet to find pictures and research.  Use forums (nanowrimo is a great one) to ask questions of people who have experienced it.  Travel forums, such as Travelpod are also great tools, where people blog about their travel experiences, in addition to posting pictures.

Writing about Shawn and Allene hiking the Highlands was one thing; being there myself and recording every detail was another altogether.  After being there, I knew the sights of oak trees, sunlight glinting off veins of stones lying on the bottom of a stream, lichen-covered boulders, scrubby grass, shaggy Highland cattle with huge horns, and just how dark it is at night with no street or city lights; the sounds of sheep bleating nearby and the lowing of cattle carrying up the hill from a mile away; the smells of cow dung in the fields and coffee shops and fish and chips in the village below; and the metallic taste of the water from the streams and hot coffee and bridies after a long hike. 

I learned what it was like to hike through heather and moorland, with my feet sometimes sinking down farther than I expected and clumps of heather at times reaching past my knees.  It was not the flat and easy walk it appeared in pictures!  I gained an appreciation for just how cold 60 degrees can be at the top of a Scottish monroe with a stiff wind blowing the whole time, what it’s like to climb in medieval boots, and just how much and for how long muscles ache when not accustomed to such activity!

When creating your own settings, list the five senses–sight, sound, smell, touch, and taste–and spend some time listing as many items in each category as you can, for each scene in your story.  Don’t forget to write down what emotions the setting might provoke.  Research what you don’t know personally.  You don’t necessarily need to use everything you list, but it will help bring the places to life in your own head, which will bring it to life on the page for your readers.

Happy writing!

One of the things I have enjoyed about my leap into writing has been meeting other new writers. I was recently privileged to meet Sunni Morris and read her latest novel, The Medallion.  I try to stick to historical fiction, time travel, and Scotland:  Sunni’s novel falls in the world of fantasy, but in a medieval style setting in Britain.

The Medallion has a fairytale quality, a story within a story in the style of Second Hand Lions, the Princess Bride, or Inkheart. Like The Princess Bride, it is set in a semi-fantasy, semi-Medieval world; this particular world is teeming with bandits, a mysterious medallion, a mischievous fairy trying hard to be less so, an enigmatic Lady, and wizards, moving in and out among the ordinary peasantry just trying to survive and make sense of the hardships of life. The story, as told by a mysterious old man, centers on two sisters torn apart by bandits in their youth. One sister finds a semblance of happiness and, eventually, a mysterious and great destiny waiting for her, while the other suffers greatly, but never gives up her dream of finding her sister.

The story opens with a narration in an almost fairy-tale style that promises something magical and mysterious to come, and sets the stage. The language is beautiful, with a rhythm and poetry that echoes the mysterious, dreamlike, fairy-tale beauty of the story itself. I found myself wanting to read slowly and savor every word and lush image, even as I wanted to race ahead and find out what happens.

What attracted me most to The Medallion was the lyric and poetic writing style. The book is worth reading for that alone, with descriptions as lush and beautiful as the Lady’s island. You can see the dew drops on each leaf, and feel the grass under your feet. But lovers of fantasy and medieval times will also love the setting, and the elements of adventure and romance, as Anwen and her sister Alana, separated years ago by an attack of bandits, spend years hoping to find one another even as their lives unwind.

The book ends with one mission accomplished, but the good feeling that there is plenty of story left in these characters, and plenty more adventures waiting for them and for their readers. I look forward to the sequel.

In keeping with the theme of my blog, I present another time travel book:

Joan Szechtman’s new book, This Time, in an original twist of the time travel genre, is the story of King Richard III of England, rescued in his final moments on Bosworth Field by modern science. He is brought into the modern era by Hosgrove, a wealthy Ricardian who wishes to learn more of Richard’s life. He regards Richard, however, as a well-informed museum exhibit, who can be returned to inevitable death at Hosgrove’s own convenience. 

Hosgrove does not count on Richard objecting.

What ensues is part car-chase-pistol-shooting adventure as Richard escapes his new enemies; part history-mystery as Richard reveals what happened to his nephews, what went wrong at Bosworth, and how Anne died; and partly a human interest story of a man adjusting to the new life thrust upon him.

I thoroughly appreciated the historical aspect of this book, the research that went into it, and the clear love the author has for her subject. For those who like learning history through fiction, this is a good introduction to Richard III’s reign. I liked how Joan revealed pieces of Richard’s kingship over the course of the story, and presented evidence contrary to the historical record through the device of Richard contemplating and re-telling from his perspective.

Literature’s value lies, in part, in the insights it offers. To that effect, This Time raises important issues: a man adjusting to a new environment, a man accepting changes thrust unwillingly upon him; a man faced with false accusations. I especially liked the large theme of what we believe about others and why. Who shaped the historical view of Richard? Henry, who defeated him? Why did Shakespeare portray him so negatively? Whose word are we taking, and why do they say what they say?  These are issues we should all consider in our own lives.

I felt this book left ample room for delving in. As a non-Ricardian, I wanted to know more, both political and personal, of the fight between Henry and Richard, and the events surrounding Bosworth and the Stanleys. It is to the author’s credit that someone with no prior interest in Richard III was left wanting more, and she assures me it is coming in the sequels.

I wanted a stronger sense of the characters’ looks, mannerisms, and personalities. Apart from the issue of marrying outside his faith, where we see Richard struggle and learn, I felt Richard adopted modern views too quickly. It is to anyone’s credit to be open, but I would have liked to see him question our beliefs more deeply, and for him and other characters to also discover value in some beliefs of Richard’s time. I felt Richard was the only one expected to grow and change.

Ms. Szechtman has come up with a novel– forgive the pun– device in exploring history, and I would look forward to seeing it used again to raise interest in more historical figures, to bring them to life as real people with thoughts, fears, hopes, and all the emotions we ourselves have.

 

The last week and a bit has flown by with lots of detail work on manuscripts and immersion in the world of medieval music and ale–more ale than music this week.  And I should add, I don’t mean literal immersion.  Just in case anyone wondered.  Although it certainly would have helped me answer my question: how does the taste of today’s ale or beer compare to the taste of medieval ale?

Ale, in short, was largely the drink of the medieval day, made with malted grains (oats, barely, or wheat, for instance), water, and yeast.  It may have been flavored with spices, herbs, sugars, or fruits.  Beer, by contrast, contained hops, which gave it a touch of bitterness and helped with preservation.  Most speculation is that medieval ale was weaker than today’s, and had little to no carbonization, although these points, like any others, are up for debate.  In medieval England, it was served fresh, meaning still, or only very recently done, fermenting.

As usual, opinions vary about the state of things seven hundred years ago.  Both music and ale have similar problems: we have no direct experience of their medieval versions.  In the world of music, we have a few manuscripts from which to re-create a few pieces, but not many, and we can’t hear the actual instruments, nor how a medieval bard would have interpreted what manuscripts we have.   

In the world of ale, a few written household records have survived.  Judith Bennett quotes many such medieval sources in her book Ale, Beer, and Brewsters in England, and these sources were used to construct two possible recipes for medieval ale, and brew several batches, using no modern equipment.  

Opinion on medieval ale veers strongly toward it having been sweet; the brewer says the ale from his first recipe was definitely not sweet, although this may be due to the ale being deliberately weak.  He describes one batch as quite cloudy, tasting ‘tannic,’  like ‘liquid bread,’ and apparently being quite low in alcoholic content.  Despite this, he says, it was ’quite drinkable and refreshing.’  Further batches, produced from a recipe that would have been more appropriate for an aristocratic household, gave tastes ranging from paint thinner to pleasant apple.

 We can safely say there would have been a great variety in the taste of ales from one town to the next, depending on the individual brewer, and the ingredients and equipment available.  But it seems that in general, they would have been sweeter and weaker than what we know today.

sources: Recreating Medieval English Ales by Paul W. Placeway, Getting Medieval by Jeri Westerson

Hogmanay is  the Scottish New Year’s Eve celebration, although by all accounts, much wilder than how your average American rings in the New Year.  Its roots go back so far that the origin of the word itself is no longer known, but it originated in deep winter celebrations of sun and fire, and moved from there into the Roman Saturnalia, a Baccanalian event if ever there was one.  The Reformation drove much of the Hogmanay celebrations underground until the 17th Century, and in recent years, they have become far more extravagant even than what most of the 20th Century knew. 

Hogmanay celebrations these days are large events, often held at castles.  They include music of all sorts, rock bands, pipe bands, drinking, revelry, lots of kissing– it is New Year’s Eve, after all–fire ceremonies, swinging fire balls, fireworks, and singing of Auld Lang Syne.  In smaller towns, Hogmanay may be celebrated with ceilidhs (dances).

One youtube clip shows “1000 Pipers” marching down the Royal Mile outside of Edinburgh Castle: 1000 Pipers  Be prepared: this is a lot of bagpipes!  And I’m saying that like it’s a good thing.  It’s quite a sight to see so many marching in their kilts and sporrans, all playing together.

Scottish History at Suite 101 explains the reasoning behind the “first footing” tradition of it being considered good luck for the first person to cross your door at midnight to be a tall, dark-haired man: in the days of the Viking attacks, you didn’t want to see shorter, blonde men.  They were often raiding, pillaging, and raping.

Interestingly, as I search for details on how Niall might have celebrated at Glenmirril, I find that, with the exception of a few sketchy paragraphs about old traditions, and no details as to just how old those traditions are, there is virtually nothing.  There is plenty about medieval Christmases, but no mention of Hogmanay in the same period.  As Niall lived just after the days of the Viking raids, he may have still been celebrating very much like their Yule, which is also thought to have been a strong influence on Scottish Hogmanay.  He lived long before the Reformation that drove it underground, so chances are high that he did in fact celebrate it.

January 1, in medieval times, was not the new year.  That happened in March, by the Julian calendar by which they still lived.  For them, it commemorated the circumcision of Jesus which, according to Jewish custom, happened on the eighth day.

Only with January 6 did the medieval population conclude the Christmas season.  It is on this 12th day after the birth of Jesus, that the wise men, the magi from the East, are said to have found him.  They gave him gold for kingship, frankincense for the priesthood, and myrrh symbolizing death.  It must have been a heart-breaking gift for Mary, knowing what lay in store for her newborn son.  In remembrance of the gifts they gave, this was the day of gift-giving at that time.

 

Sources: http://dickens111.tripod.com/id14.html, http://theglaive.livejournal.com/, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boxing_Day, http://www.reliquary.co.uk/gedeonus/medyear.htm, http://www.historylearningsite.co.uk/medieval_xmas.htm, http://digitalcommons.unl.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1075&context=historyfacpub, Children’s Literature…

December 28 was Childermass Day in the medieval calendar, known today as the Feast of the Holy Innocents.  It is the day Herod slaughtered all the baby boys two and under, in his hunt for the newborn king he believed to be a threat to himself. 

One source reports that children were beaten on this day in memory of Herod’s cruelty.  As a rule, the day was considered ill-luck: not a day to marry, or take on a new project.  Edward IV would not be crowned on Childermass Day.  And throughout the following year, on whatever day of the week Childermass fell, no new clothes would be bought, and no new undertakings begun, on that day.

But by far the most interesting part of Childermass day is the issue of the boy bishops.  Throughout Europe, and especially England, the day was celebrated by making a boy both bishop and head of the town for one day.  At first reading, it sounds like a joke of sorts, something for fun and laughs.  But on further reading, it’s an eye-opening look at medieval society and medieval childhood. 

Prior to the advent– no pun intended– of Protestantism, the ‘boy bishops’ were elected on the Feast of St. Nicholas, December 6.  Throughout the Christmas season, they presided over various festivals from then until Candlemas on February 2.  On December 28, from the thirteenth to the sixteenth centuries, the boy bishops preached sermons.  (It is interesting to note that, for a time reputed to be so patriarchal, some places had girls preaching, too.)  The earliest records of  boy bishops date from the 1220’s, in York, Salisbury, and St. Paul Cathedrals, delineating their duties.  There are also surviving records of the miniature copes, staffs, and rings used by these boys.

The boy bishop, elected by his peers, headed an entire group of school or choir boys, all replacing their elders in the performance of various duties within the religious service, for 24 hours, beginning with Vespers on the night of December 27. 

Warren Wood discusses these sermons in his book Children’s Literature of the Early Renaissance.  He gives a fascinating and detailed contextual background in which the sermons were preached, telling of the various feasting and customs surrounding the day of the Holy Innocents, before examining the three surviving sermons from that time. 

That from St. Paul’s Cathedral is ‘direct and homely,’ while the one written by Richard Ramsey of Gloucester Cathedral and delivered by John Stubs, Boy Bishop of 1558, was ‘racy and colloquial with a spicy vernacular flavor.’  Wooden reports, however, that they were “far more than mockeries of adult sermons,” but rather dealt with serious subjects.  The three surviving sermons may have had very different tones, but all dealt with the subject of the feast day, the slaughter of the Innocents, and each discusses the New Testaments attitudes about children, particularly that found in Matthew 18, the admonition that unless you become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of Heaven.

Wooden goes on to make a fascinating distinction between the middle ages’ view of what makes one childlike– innocence and purity– in contrast to the much later Romantics’ ‘veneration’ of chronological childhood, and further mentions that at least one sermon stresses there are elements of childhood, such as frivolity, which are not what Matthew is speaking of.

The tradition of boy bishops lasted for several centuries, ending with the Protestant Reformation.

We celebrate Christmas: a rush of gift buying, cooking, baking, and decorating, culminating in one big day.  The medieval Christmas was more of a full season of special days, from Advent to at least January 6, the Epiphany.

Adam and Eve in the Garden

Adam and Eve in the Garden

Christmas Eve was known as Adam and Eve day.  From the early 14th century, “miracle plays”– performances that told Bible stories for a largely illiterate population– were performed on that day. 

To a modern reader, the connection between Adam and Eve and the birth of Christ may or may not be immediately apparent.  But the plays highlighted the importance of Christ returning, to bring us redemption from the Fall; to remind the people that once we had paradise, and, thanks to Christ coming to Earth as man, we may have Paradise again.  It stressed the importance of the Christmas season and Christ’s coming, in their lives.

Christmas trees were called “Paradise Trees” because they originally were used as a prop in the Christmas Eve miracle plays centering on Eden, or Paradise.  The decorations on the tree stem partly from the apples hung there to symbolize Adam and Eve, and partly from the legend that says evergreens bloom at midnight on Christmas Eve, thus leading to the tradition of decorating the trees with both fruits and paper flowers.  Round white wafers– representing the communion host– were also hung in the boughs as a reminder of redemption coming through the birth of Christ.  The fall of man was a key component to understanding the significance of the birth of Christ.

Adam and Eve Day, on the 24th, and Christmas Day on the 25th, were immediately followed by St. Stephen’s Day or Boxing Day on December 26, a day popular for visiting friends and family.

From the middle ages, Boxing Day was a day in which servants received a yearly gift much like our current Christmas bonuses, and were free of their duties for a day, in exchange for having made sure their masters had a smooth and pleasant Christmas, some say.  Traditionally, it was also a day to give money to the poor, and has been a public holiday in Scotland since 1971. 

In Ireland, which, in the middle ages, shared a very similar culture to the Scottish highlands, the same day is also called Wrens Day, after the tradition of carrying an effigy of a wren, or even capturing a live one to carry in a cage.  The ”Wrenboys” or “Mummers” who carried these wrens traveled from house to house, singing, dancing, and playing music.A a look at the wren in the cage was exchanged for treats.

A popular rhyme, later turned into a song, began thus:

The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,
St. Stephen’s Day was caught in the furze,
Although he was little his honour was great,
Jump up me lads and give us a treat.

Tomorrow… more on some very interesting traditions associated with December 28.

Today, many people are taking down the Christmas tree and cleaning out the vestiges of Christmas.  In medieval times, the twelve days of Christmas– from the feast of the birth of Christ until the Epiphany, when the wise men arrived with gifts– is barely beginning on December 26. 

How might the halls of the great castles been decorated throughout the celebrations?   It has turned out to be a particularly difficult topic for research, with very little information turning up.

As mentioned in a previous post, trees might have been decorated with apples on Christmas Eve.  But the trees stayed outside, strongly rooted in terra firma.  Pine boughs would have been common, however, perhaps with plenty of ivy, holly, and mistletoe.  As it was a great feast day, we can guess that the rushes on the floor would be fresh, and likely a higher quality of candle used around the hall– perhaps more candles than usual.  A yule log would have burned in many hearths throughout the twelve days.  It’s a good guess, too, that it would have been a time of fresh linens on tables and altars.

But for the time, very little is recorded about those decorations.  I hope soon to find more information.

Christmas, not surprisingly, has gone through many incarnations in two thousand years, its customs, traditions, and the emphasis put on it changing not only with time, but with place.  For the first thousand and some years, there is no record of the word Christmas at all.  Our first record of the term is from 1038 when a Saxon book uses the words “Cristes Maesse.”  Much later, after the Reformation, Christmas was largely frowned upon.  But in Niall’s time, the Middle Ages, Christmas was still openly celebrated.

Today, of course, it is an almost secular celebration of lights, feasting, gift-giving and family gatherings.  But for the people of Glenmirril, Christmas would have been focused on the religious aspect, the birth of Christ, more solemn than what we know.  People of the time saw Christmas as a time of prayer and reflection, in hopes of Christ coming again.

They feasted, as we do, but not on turkey.  It seems no one was willing to sail west in hopes of finding an undiscovered country with such a creature.  Being of the upper crust, Niall, Allene, and the Laird may have feasted on goose, swan, and venison.  The poorer people of medieval Europe dined on Christmas goose.   Mince pies, filled with spices, fruits, and meats at that time, were popular, as were Christmas puddings, or ‘frumenty’ as it was also called.  Frumenty consisted of a thick porridge mixed with egg yolk, currants, spices, and fruits.  There were also plenty of stews, soups, fish, and boar. 

Before or while feasting, the lords and ladies may have been entertained by ‘mumming,’ which was the practice of putting on plays or dancing.  The story of Christ, with Herod as the villain, was popular.

Less common to our own time, hearths would typically burn with a yule log, a practice of both Vikings and Druids.  And the term wassail comes from the old words waes hael, be well.  We certainly do drink to one another’s health, but in medieval times, a hot brew of honey, ale, and spices was poured into a large bowl, which the host lifted to greet his company, with the words Waes hael!

The people of the medieval world knew caroling.  The word carol, in fact, meant to sing and dance in a circle, which, not surprisingly, the priests found a bit disruptive to Mass.  As a result, ‘carols’ of the disruptive singing and dancing in a circle during Mass kind were banned, and carolers took to the streets.  Hence the tradition of caroling door to door.  I, for one, am glad that the songs themselves are now allowed in church, but do not plan to dance in a circle, square, or any other manner, during Mass this year.  (Or next, just in case anyone is wondering.) 

In 1223, 67 years before Niall’s birth, St. Francis of Assisi created the first Nativity Scene in Italy, to explain the Christmas story to the villagers.

Niall and Allene may have seen a decorated tree, but it would have stayed outside.  Medieval priests would decorate trees on Christmas Eve with apples, as the day was known as “Adam and Eve Day.” 

For those of us who have managed not to get whisked back in time via a mysterious Scottish castle, we associate Christmas with gifts.  We might be disappointed, because for the medieval Christian, Christmas was a more solemn occasion, and gifts were not traded until Epiphany, or Twelfth Night– the night the Magi reached Christ in the stable.  On the other hand, of course, a medieval Christmas celebration lasted for 12 days.  Talk about partying like it’s 1399!

Sources:

http://www.historylearningsite.co.uk/medieval_xmas.htm, http://www.godecookery.com/mtales/mtales09.htm

http://historymedren.about.com/od/dailylifesociety/a/xmas_traditions.htm