Archive for the ‘Faith’ Category

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

Advent– the four weeks leading up to Christ’s birth– came into being in the thirteenth century, less than a hundred years before Niall’s birth in 1290.  Like today, it was a time of fasting, penance, and preparation for the coming of Christ.  Like today, it seems the Lenten fasting regulations were more strict than those for Advent.  Today, Roman Catholics are not obligated to fast, but in Niall’s time, abstinance from meat, cheese, fat, honey-beer, ale, and wine was expected three days a week.  In addition, weddings, games, and unnecessary travel were to be avoided in this time.

As usual, sources disagree, but at least some believe the advent wreath has been in use as a Christian symbol since medieval times.  The advent wreath is a circular garland holding four candles– typically three purple and one pink– for the four weeks of advent.

Niall and Glenmirril’s chapel may or may not have known Nativity Scenes in 1314 and the years shortly after.  They originated with St. Francis of Assisi in 1223 in Italy.  It is possible the idea traveled to the Scottish Highlands in 90+ years.  He definitely would not have know Advent Calendars, however, as they were not introduced until the 1800’s in Germany.

For a December collection of medieval Christmas stories and legends, go to The New York Wood Carver’s Medieval Advent Calendar.

Sources: Alice’s Medieval Feasts and Fasts, Scott’s Catholicism Blog

A modern saying is there are no atheists in foxholes.  I would assume that’s true.  But it is interesting to look at the confluence of warfare and religion in modern times, a very different situation than we have today.

In medieval times, there was, I believe, a much deeper and more widespread trust in saintly and heavenly intercession.  The Battle of Lepanto, for instance, which marked the end of the Crusades, is associated in many minds, with the Rosary.  On the morning of October 7, 1571, Don John, son of Emperor Charles V, sailed his fleet into battle, despite all military and weather factors being against him.  On his ship, he carried an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe– an event which had happened only 40 years before this.  And as Don John prepared for battle, Pope Pius V, with many others, was praying the Rosary for him, back at the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore.  Don John’s 65,000 men, themselves, recited the Rosary for three hours prior to attacking.  The end of the story is that the wind suddenly changed– inexplicably and mysteriously, according to witnesses– and Don John went on to an incredible victory, which he credited entirely to the intercession of Mary.

I was recently give the book ”By Sword and Fire: Cruelty and Atrocity in Medieval Warfare” by Sean McGlynn.  (It was my birthday present.  Men, please make note of this.  Your wives and girlfriends will love this book!  Seriously.)  Mr. McGlynn makes a brief note of the belief in heavenly and saintly intervention.  He notes a number of heavenly interventions:

  • A defendant in the 1170’s credits his victory in trial by battle to having asked the aid of St. Thomas Becket the Martyr.
  • William Crak, hung for multiple homicides in 1291, asked the help of Thomas Cantiloupe, bishop of Hereford until 1252, who appears, according to reports, to have brought him back to life.  Thomas Cantiloupe seems to have been a favorite intercessor for those going to the gallows.  (If he had any sense of humor, he’d be interceding for those considering marriage.  There are those pundits, of course, who would equate the two.)
  • Saints Benedict, Ethelreda, and Sexburga are credited with the successful jailbreak of one Bricstan, wrongly imprisoned.

Mr. McGlynn mentions several others, and in contexts which the modern reader might find amusing.  However, the point is, saints were much more routinely invoked and credited with intercession in medieval days than they are now.

Some of the interesting stories I’ve come across, pertaining specifically to the times and people of the Blue Bells Trilogy, are the story of St. Bee’s, a parish in England, which comes up in The Minstrel Boy (Book 2 of the Trilogy), and the story of Robert the Bruce carrying relics with him into the battle of Bannockburn.

St. Bee’s is a beautiful, twelfth century abbey in York, England.  The story behind the name is that one St. Bega, an Irish princess, fled Ireland to escape marriage to a Viking prince.  Meeting Lord Egremont, she requested land to found a nunnery.  He granted her a cruel promise that Midsummer’s Day: he would give her all the land covered by snow on the following morning.  The last laugh was on Lord Egremont, as the next morning– a day in late June– three miles of his land was covered by snow.  Interestingly, St. Bee, or St. Bega, whichever you prefer, is associated with another miracle also involving snow.

Robert the Bruce is reputed to have been a devout Catholic.  He carried the relics of two different saints into battle, and invoked the names of several others.  The BBC page on the Battle of Bannockburn recounts how Bruce brought the Monymusk Reliquary, or the Breccbennach, which contained the relics of St. Columba, into battle.  On the morning of the battle, the entire Scots army, some five to six thousand, knelt before the barefoot and blind Abbot Maurice of Inchaffrey for Mass and final absolution before facing death.  Bruce himself invoked the aid of St. Andrew, the patron saint of Scotland, St. Thomas Beckett, and John the Baptist, on whose feast day the battle of Bannockburn occurred. 

By far the most interesting story, however, is the story of St. Fillan, a follower of St. Columba, and Robert Bruce.  The priest who had charge of the relics, afraid for the safety of one of Scotland’s treasures, was hesitant to bring them to a battle against the reputed ‘largest army the world had ever seen’ of Edward II.  So he brought only the silver case that usually carried the arm bone.  (As an aside, St. Fillan had one of the more interesting left arms in the history of mankind.  I will cover that in a later post.) 

On the evening before battle, Bruce stayed in his tent in prayer to God, and imploring St. Fillan, too, for his intercessory prayers before God.  As he prayed, there came a great crack of sound and flash of light from the reliquary, and the silver case flew open, showing the armbone of St. Fillan.  The priest in charge of the relics rushed in, and, seeing them, proclaimed a miracle, confessing to the Bruce that he had left the armbone itself behind in safety.