Monday, November 10, 2025

 

William Caxton: The Man who brought Printing to England

When you think about the printing press, you might picture Gutenberg, or maybe the rise of books in the Renaissance. But did you know that the story of printing in England has its own legendary figure? Meet William Caxton, the fellow who introduced the printing press to England and helped make books more accessible for everyone.

"William Caxton showing specimens of his printing to King Edward IV and his Queen"
Engraving published in The Graphic in 1877

Who was William Caxton?

William Caxton was born around 1422 in Kent, England, in an area known as the Weald. The Weald was a vast area of forest, scrub and pasture with few settlements and no towns. The main occupations were iron mining and smelting, the production of charcoal and animal husbandry, especially rearing pigs which could forage in the woods.

According to Caxton, he and the locals spoke English which was ‘broad and rude’ and hardly understood by outsiders. Although Caxton never tells us about his parents, there must have been money enough to pay for schooling and to afford to buy young William an apprenticeship with a wealthy London mercer, Robert Large, by 1438. For his son to serve an apprenticeship with Large – Lord Mayor of London in 1439-40 – William’s father must have had impressive connections in the city and, although there is no certainty, Stevyn Causton (a variant spelling of Caxton) seems a probable contender. Stevyn was a contemporary of and fellow mercer with Large. It was common practice for mercers to take on the sons of their fellows as apprentices and if Stevyn was prosperous and successful, he would probably have owned a town house in London and possibly a country retreat in Kent. Was that how William came to be born in rustic Kent and maybe spent his early years there, learning his English from a local woman who served as his wet nurse? This would fit the few facts that we know but is unlikely ever to be confirmed beyond doubt.

In 1441, Robert Large died, leaving his wife, Joanna, to continue the business and train the apprentices, including Caxton. In his will, Large made numerous sizable bequests which included leaving considerable sums to each of his eight apprentices. Caxton, as one of the two youngest trainees received a very generous 20 marks. Around the time of his master’s death, perhaps under instruction from the widowed Joanna, Caxton appears to have been working in Bruges, in Flanders (modern day Belgium) but quite what he was doing there is unclear. It isn’t certain if he’d completed his apprenticeship or not but he would spend perhaps three decades there, in the Low Countries (now the Netherlands), with occasional visits back to London.     

How did Caxton become a printer?

Mercers did not only trade in cloth and textiles – known as ‘mercery’. They bought and sold other high status goods and, like his master, Robert Large before him, there is evidence that Caxton was building up a market for illuminated manuscripts for which Bruges was a famous centre of production. King Henry VI of England and other noblemen bought many Bruges books, the king’s uncle, Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, in particular, created a considerable library for the time so there was no shortage of wealthy English customers to buy the exquisite books, each one unique.

But these hand-written and illustrated books took a great many man-hours to create a single volume and, at the time, the printing revolution was already underway in Europe, enabling books to be produced faster than ever before. It was most likely during the eighteen months Caxton spent in Cologne, Germany, from July 1471 to the end of 1472, that he became familiar with the process of printing. Cologne was particularly welcoming to English merchants and was rapidly becoming a major centre of printing whereas England was lagging behind with this new technology.

Why is Caxton important?

After seeing the power of the press firsthand and studying the methods of using it, Caxton decided to introduce this revolutionary new contraption back home and, in 1476, he set up his own printing press in London at the Sign of the Red Pale at the Almonry in Westminster Abbey. This was handy for the king, Edward IV, the nobility at court and anyone involved in parliamentary procedure or the law courts.

Caxton’s biggest achievement was making books more affordable and more widely available, opening up literacy and learning to more people in England. One of his first printed books was The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer, a classic of English literature but he didn’t only print books –he translated them from Latin, French and Dutch into English, helping to shape the English language as he did so. He printed works in what we now call ‘Middle English’ and the choices he made in spelling and grammar influenced the way English would evolve. As an example, in a preface to one of his printed editions in 1490, Caxton tells the reader a story to demonstrate some of the difficulties he had in trying to create a version of English that was common to all:

In my days [it] happened that certain merchants were in a ship in Thames, for to have sailed over the sea into Zealand [in the Netherlands] and for lack of wind they tarried at Foreland [in Kent] and went to land for to refresh them. And one of them named Sheffelde, a mercer, came into an house and asked for meat and especially he asked for eggs and the good wife answered that she could speak no French. And the merchant was angry for he also could speak no French but would have had eggs and she understood him not. And then at last another said that he would have eyren, then the good wife said that she understood him well.

Lo, asks Caxton, what should a man in these days now write, eggs or eyren ? Certainly it is hard to please every man by cause of diversity and change of language.      

Caxton’s Legacy

Caxton was a true pioneer in the world of publishing. He worked hard to create a system for translating and printing English texts and his work helped standardise the language at a time when there were no set rules for spelling or grammar. That’s a big deal when you think about how our language has evolved into what we use today!

Plus, Caxton didn’t just print literature. He printed books on a wide range of topics – history, religion, philosophy and instructional books. This means that Caxton’s press helped spread knowledge and ideas to a much wider audience than ever before. His first printed book in England was The Recuyell of the Historyes of Troye, a translation from a French work and Caxton was so proud of it that he wrote a little preface about how he learned the craft of printing. Such personal touches in his books tell us more about everyday life at the time and bring history alive rather than simply being works of literature.

By introducing the printing press to England, William Caxton helped set the stage for the spread of literacy, education and new ideas. And who can say, without Caxton’s work, maybe our world of books and publishing would look very different – and sparse – today, missing so many great stories.

The Colour of Darkness


In my new novel, The Colour of Darkness, the hero, Seb Foxley encounters William Caxton. Midsummer in medieval London is a joyous festivity but, for some, there is nothing to celebrate when Death stalks the city’s sweltering streets. As livelihoods are brought to ruin and trust withers in the heat, artist-cum-sleuth, Sebastian Foxley, finds trouble has come to his own doorstep. Plague rears its hideous head; fire, theft and murder imperil the citizens.

A beautiful young woman enchants the men of London and the mob shrieks that witchcraft is to blame when waxen dolls, spiked with pins, are discovered. With such horrors in his possession and discovering that guilt lies too close at hand, can Seb unravel the mysteries and save those he loves before it’s too late?

Join Seb Foxley in this intriguing and danger-riddled new adventure The Colour of Darkness

Midsummer in medieval London is a joyous festivity but, for some, there is nothing to celebrate when Death stalks the city’s sweltering streets. As livelihoods are brought to ruin and trust withers in the heat, artist-cum-sleuth, Sebastian Foxley, finds trouble has come to his own doorstep. Plague rears its hideous head; fire, theft and murder imperil the citizens.

A beautiful young woman enchants the men of London and the mob shrieks that witchcraft is to blame when waxen dolls, spiked with pins, are discovered. With such horrors in his possession and discovering that guilt lies too close at hand, can Seb unravel the mysteries and save those he loves before it’s too late?

Join Seb Foxley in this intriguing and danger-riddled new adventure, The Colour of Darkness, published by MadeGlobal and out now.  

Toni Mount is a best-selling author of both medieval fiction and non-fiction, with over 30 published titles. Her book Everyday Lives in Medieval London was named ‘Best History Book’ by Goodreads and became an Amazon bestseller. Her internationally popular Sebastian Foxley medieval murder mystery series has earned over 15 million page reads on Kindle Unlimited.

A historian and experienced educator, Toni holds a Master’s degree from the University of Kent, a first-class BA with Honours, and diplomas in European Humanities, English Literature and Creative Writing from the Open University, as well as a PGCE from the University of Greenwich. She is a member of the Richard III Society's Research Committee and contributes regularly to history magazines and blogs.

Toni also teaches history and offers a range of unique online courses at MedievalCourses.com. She lives in Kent with her husband Glenn and has two grown-up sons.

Toni at the launch of The Colour of Darkness as Sandwich Medieval Centre, Kent 
Photo courtesy of Pepsoft

tonimount.com

Thursday, June 12, 2025

Marguerite of Anjou - A woman scorned...

by Judith Arnopp


I first came across Marguerite while I was at university where I was struck by her unjust legacy. I spent many years researching and writing about Marguerite’s contemporary, Margaret Beaufort, who similarly fought for her son. The similarities only diverge when Margaret Beaufort triumphs and Marguerite’s hopes perish on Tewkesbury field.

Yorkist propaganda against Marguerite of Anjou begins early in her story and continues to affect our perception of her today. Polydore Vergil’s assessment of her character, taken from widespread Yorkist propaganda, echoes loudly in Shakespeare’s malevolent portrayal of the queen in his play ‘The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York and the Good King Henry the Sixth’

‘She wolf of France but worse than the wolves of France,

whose tongue more poisons than the adder’s tooth!

How ill be-seeming is it in thy sex

To triumph like an Amazonian trull

Upon their woes who Fortune captivates!

But that thy face is vizard like, unchanging,

Made impudent with use of evil deeds,

I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush.

To tell thee whence thy cam’st, of whom derived,

Were shame enough to shame thee, wert not shameless.’ (Act 1.4.112)

Sounds like a nice lady but my research revealed no monster but simply a queen determined to maintain her husband’s throne and to secure the inheritance of her son.  But Marguerite was a foreigner, unhampered by the political restraint placed upon English women and that fact cast the first shadow over her life in England.

Marguerite came from a line of determined women; both her paternal grandmother Yolande of Aragon, and her mother, Isabelle of Lorraine were deeply involved in politics and championed the rights of their absent husbands, raised taxes and armies, administered the duchies and laid down policies. Both women impacted on Marguerite’s own experience after she became Queen of England. To Marguerite, on finding her crown at risk, there was only one thing she could do and that was fight.

During her early years as queen, Marguerite acted as a supporting, conciliatory presence behind the king, mainly confining her activities to matchmaking and obtaining positions at court for friends and servants. She used her influence to secure the surrender of Maine and Anjou and, although the pressure on her to comply is obvious to us now, the act did not endear her to her new subjects.  

Her first real intercession into politics was during the Jack Cade rebellion when at her instigation Henry agreed to show leniency and issue a pardon to the rebels.  The king’s preamble to the pardon illustrates Marguerite’s role in the matter.

‘Nevertheless, recalling to the reflection and consideration of our mind that among those virtues fitting and proper to the royal person and dignity, none befits him more than clemency, which is apt to bring about and put the shame of sinning in the minds of his subject people, and considering as well that it is fitting to show himself such a prince to his subjects as he wishes and desires God to be supreme and high Lord him, persuaded and moved by these and many other pious considerations, among others by the most humble and persistent supplications, prayers and requests of our most serene and beloved wife and consort the queen…we have pardoned…’

The lure of a pardon undermined Cade’s force and mention of Marguerite’s intercession allowed Henry to show leniency without appearing weak. 

It is quite possible that had Henry not fallen ill, Marguerite’s supporting role would have continued but as his condition worsened and the threat from the Yorkist faction grew stronger, she had little option but to assume a more prominent position. The fluctuating health of the king meant that increasingly she governed beneath the cloak of Henry’s kingship, continuing to represent herself as subordinate to the king’s authority whilst, in fact, assuming increasing power.

During a lull in Henry’s illness Marguerite produced the king with an heir Edward, securing Lancaster’s position and dealing a blow to the ambitious Duke of York who was previously Henry’s heir. It is no coincidence that around this time propaganda against the queen increased, and York’s attempts to undermine Margaret’s authority picked up pace.

Some contemporary reports accuse the queen of sexual misconduct and her son, Edward, is described as a ‘changeling,’ a term which infers he was base born.  Two days before York was removed from office on 23 February 1456 a John Helton was executed for distributing bills that alleged the prince was not the queen’s son.  


As the enmity between York and Lancaster increased, the battle for power descended into military combat obliging Marguerite to step further and further from the expected feminine role. The nobles of England and their adherents were killed in skirmishes and battles, the reins of government passing from York to Henry (or Marguerite)  but it was not until the Battle of Towton that the reign of Lancaster was all but ended and the new Yorkist dynasty arose.

York was dead and Edward IV was firmly on the throne, Marguerite could have faded into gentile retirement. The House of York’s vendetta against the deposed queen could have ceased. But poetry and pamphlets continued to be issued, denigrating both Marguerite and her claim to the throne. She was blamed for the fall of the Lancastrian dynasty and stereotyped as ‘an angry woman driven by malice, spreading sorrow, disorder and confusion in her wake.’  

Marguerite, still refusing to admit defeat, spent the next ten years in exile, plotting to reinstate her son Edward. Her determination strong enough that when Warwick fell out with Edward IV, she formed an alliance with her great enemy and consented to a marriage between her son and Warwick’s youngest daughter, Anne.  

It was a short lived alliance that ended for Warwick at Barnet, and for Marguerite at Tewkesbury where her seventeen year old son was killed, along with her ambition for the English throne.

But Yorkist propaganda continued, using a wide range of devices to defame Marguerite, making it difficult, even now, to obtain a clear view of her. Early historians picked up the Yorkist banner and continued to dehumanise her, subverting her female instinct to nurture into an unnatural lust for murder.

               By the time Shakespeare wrote his Wars of the Roses plays Marguerite’s had already come to epitomise unrelieved lust for power possessing a ‘tigers heart wrapped in a woman’s hide.’   Her strength is undermined by her female flaws and she ‘lacks the true qualities of royalty...the queen’s character is also tainted by immorality: she is an adulteress. But it is power rather than lust which dominates her character, and vengefulness which becomes its most terrible flaw.’  

In Henry VI part III her feminine weaknesses are replaced by the most ignoble of male attributes; she is masculine but akin to the worst of men. Shakespeare’s Marguerite is an arch-villainess whose femininity is inverted to encompass the direst human traits; her assumption of a male role and her lust for blood and revenge reverses the natural order and creates chaos in the realm. 


In the hands of the bard, Marguerite is a marvellous authorial depiction of twisted humanity and as a playwright Shakespeare remains unchallenged but a historian he was not.  Unfortunately, Shakespeare’s history plays came to be utilised not as examples of literary genius but as factual documents of history.

In the 1840’s Agnes Strickland published her Lives of the Queens of England and viewed Marguerite’s story ‘...of more powerful of interest than are to be found in the imaginary career of any heroine of romance; for the creations of fiction, however forcibly they may appeal to our imagination, fade into insignificance before the simple majesty of truth.’

Like other Victorian moralists, Strickland provides a highly romanticised picture of an unfortunate queen who unwisely meddled in the concerns of men. Marguerite becomes pitiful in her defeat but Strickland, by illustrating her utter personal defeat and regret, upholds the medieval opinion of a woman’s proper place.

‘There is something touching in the very simplicity of the Latin sentence with which the deed begins, that was wrung from the broken-hearted heroine who had, through so many storms of adversity, defended the rights of her royal consort and son.  While they remained in life, she would have died a thousand deaths rather than relinquish even the most shadowy of their claims; but the dear ones were no more,

‘Ambition, pride, the rival names

of York and Lancaster,

with all their long contested claims

what were they then to her?

Passively and almost with indifference, Margaret subscribed the instrument commencing ‘Ego, Margarita dum in regno Anglia maritata etc. I, Margaret, formerly in England married, renounce all that I could pretend to in England by the conditions of my marriage, with all other things there, to Edward, now king of England.’

J. J. Bagley in his biography of Marguerite written in 1948 provides a less romantic presentation. Bagley admits that Marguerite ‘did not cause the Wars of the Roses, but her intense, bitter feeling, her refusal to compromise, and her disregard of any other factor than the inheritance of her only son were reflected in the brutal, callous nature of the prolonged struggle.  For the sake of its own cause and for the welfare of the English people, the house of Lancaster might have wished for a wiser and more understanding leader, but nowhere could it have found a braver and more determined champion. Queen Margaret’s life was more than a sad story. It was a true tragedy, for the root cause of her failure lay, not in the fickle fate of battles, but in her own character and philosophy.’

In Bagley’s opinion, the Lancastrian cause could not have wished for a braver leader but perhaps one less swayed by dangerous female characteristics such as loyalty to her son and a determination to maintain a hold on his birthright.  

Richard, Duke of York was equally ambitious for his sons and fought just as fiercely for what he saw as his own rights and, moreover, he fought against an anointed king. 

Marguerite was trying to defend the throne of England against attack, as was her duty.


Historical research in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries has focused on the study of women and how women have exercised power; gendered analysis has allowed historians to move away from the traditional perception of queens.  Modern scholars look at the restrictions placed upon them and how those limitations impinged upon their political lives.  Marguerite pushed the boundaries of her engendered position; faced with the insurmountable problem of an inefficient consort she was forced to take unpopular actions and has since been judged accordingly. 

Other people have campaigned for thrones, overthrown kings and taken power from weak or incompetent rulers and (with the exception of Richard III) have not been recorded historically as unnatural monsters; the only difference is that they were men. 

Marguerite posed a threat to male rule that the medieval world was unprepared to accept.   A woman out of her prescribed place was deemed ‘unnatural’ and any divergence from the norm considered suspect and therefore dangerous.  Rosaldo clarifies the point in his book Women, Culture and Society,

‘Societies that define woman as lacking legitimate authority have no way of acknowledging the reality of female power.  This difference between rule and reality is reflected in our own society when we speak of powerful women as ‘bitches.’’

Marguerite’s determination and indefatigable resolve to win back her son’s throne was only exhausted by his death. In a man such tenacity would be heroic.  She has been labelled a violent and vengeful woman but surely she was no more so than her male opponents.  The unique circumstances in which she found herself made it impossible to follow prescribed gender boundaries while her opponents remained unfettered.  

Hostile propaganda, perpetuated by male playwrights and Victorian moralists, remains in our consciousness today.  Every day on social media I hear derogatory comments against Marguerite and her contemporary, Margaret Beaufort, but medieval history cannot be judged from a modern perspective and it does nobody any favours to perpetuate the misogyny of the past. 

As was my intention in The Beaufort Chronicle which traces the life of Margaret Beaufort, my novel, Marguerite: Hell Hath No Fury is my own poor attempt to rectify the flawed perception of a brave woman. 

~~~~~

Judith Arnopp – Author Biography

A lifelong history enthusiast and avid reader, Judith holds a BA in English/Creative writing and a Masters in Medieval Studies. She lives on the coast of West Wales where she writes both fiction and non-fiction. She is best known for her novels set in the Medieval and Tudor period, focussing on the perspective of historical women but recently she has written a trilogy from the perspective of Henry VIII himself.

 Judith is also a founder member of a re-enactment group called The Fyne Companye of Cambria which is when and why she began to experiment with sewing historical garments. She now makes clothes and accessories both for the group and others. She is not a professionally trained sewer but through trial, error and determination has learned how to make authentic looking, if not strictly historically accurate clothing. A non-fiction book about Tudor clothing, How to Dress like a Tudor, was published in 2023 by Pen and Sword.

 She runs a small seaside holiday let in Aberporth and when she has time for fun, likes to garden and restore antique doll’s houses. You can find her on most social media platforms.

 Her novels include:

A Song of Sixpence: the story of Elizabeth of York

The Beaufort Chronicle: the life of Lady Margaret Beaufort (three book series)

The Henrician Chronicle: comprising of:

A Matter of Conscience: Henry VIII, the Aragon Years (Book One of The Henrician Chronicle)

A Matter of Faith: Henry VIII, the Days of the Phoenix (Book Two of The Henrician Chronicle)

A Matter of Time: Henry VIII, the Dying of the Light (Book Three of The Henrician Chronicle)

The Kiss of the Concubine: a story of Anne Boleyn

The Winchester Goose: at the court of Henry VIII

Intractable Heart: the story of Katheryn Parr

Sisters of Arden: on the Pilgrimage of Grace

The Heretic Wind: the life of Mary Tudor, Queen of England

Peaceweaver

The Forest Dwellers

The Song of Heledd

The Book of Thornhold

A Daughter of Warwick: the story of Anne Neville, Queen of Richard III

Marguerite: Hell Hath No Fury! 


Webpage: http://www.judithmarnopp.com

Amazon Author Page: author.to/juditharnoppbooks

Blog: www.juditharnoppnovelist.blogspot.co.uk/


Social media links

https://www.facebook.com/thetudorworldofjuditharnopp

https://x.com/JudithArnopp

https://www.threads.net/@tudor_juditharnopp 


Illustrations via WikimediaCommons

Fig 1 - John Talbot, 1st Earl of Shrewsbury, presents the Book of Romances to Margaret of Anjou, Queen to Henry VI 

Fig 2 - Portrait of Marguerite of Anjou (1430 -1482) Queen Consort of England

Fig 3 - John Gilbert - Margaret of Anjou taken prisoner after the battle of Tewkesbury (1875)

Fig 4 - Richard Burchett (1815-1875) - Sanctuary (Edward IV and Lancastrian Fugitives at Tewkesbury Abbey) - 600 - Guildhall Art Gallery

Friday, June 6, 2025

From Hope to despair: London’s role in the world’s largest gem heist

by Samuel Mee 

The story of the cursed Hope diamond is a tale about the biggest jewellery robbery of all time - and about the disguise and resale of one of the biggest items in 19th century London. The curse begins in India in the 17th century when French gem merchant Jean-Baptiste Tavernier acquired a large, crudely triangular, 112-carat blue diamond while traveling. It’s said he had stolen the diamond from the forehead of a statue of the Hindu goddess Sita, triggering years of misfortune.

Portrait of Tavernier in Persian dress,

given to him in 1665 by the King of Persia

Pubic domain



Jean-Baptisete sold the “Tavernier Blue” to King Louis XIV of France in 1668 and was supposedly the first victim, torn apart by wild dogs in Russia - although it’s known that he actually returned to France where he died aged 84. 

 Royal jeweller Sieur Pitau recut the gem into a 69-carat stone, and it became part of the French Crown Jewels, renamed as the French Blue, and was reset into the Golden Fleece.

Credit: Link to https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Toison2010.png

A recreation of the Golden Fleece of King Louis XV of France,

218 years after the original jewellery had been stolen and destroyed.



A recreation of the Golden Fleece of King Louis XV of France, 218 years after the original jewellery had been stolen and destroyed. It was passed down to Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette; they both died by guillotine in 1793. Louis was killed in January, accused of treason against the French Republic. Marie Antoinette was killed in October, accused of high treason, incest (falsely), and depleting the national treasury. They certainly suffered a grim end, curse or no. Prior to that, during the Reign of Terror in 1791, the royal couple had attempted to flee, taking the crown jewels (including the blue diamond) with them but were prevented from leaving. 

In August 1792, the monarchy was officially abolished, and the royal possessions, including the famed Crown Jewels, became state property. The treasure, more than 10,000 gems, were held in the Garde-Meuble de la Couronne, although it was not a secure building. The details of the theft are disputed. Over several nights in September, thieves repeatedly entered by breaking windows and forcing doors; they broke open cases and systematically removed jewels. It’s unclear how they could not have been spotted or why the locks on the cupboards housing the diamonds were not forced. Whoever was behind it, it was the largest theft of royal or state property in European history, and it involved the greatest concentration of gemstone wealth by volume ever taken in a single event. 

Despite the chaos in France, by October 1792 authorities had recovered about two-thirds of the stolen items. Several thieves were caught and some executed. But the French Blue was not recovered. 

Twenty years passed, and the French statute of limitations on the theft expired. Just two days after that expiry, in 1812, a blue diamond of about 45.5 carats surfaced in London, owned by jeweller Daniel Eliason. Eliason did not exhibit the gem or publicize its sale, but a memorandum of his lists the gem.

The Hope Diamond
Public domain 

Scholars think this was the French Blue, recut to disguise its origins. Whoever had it had deliberately waited two decades until legal repercussions were no longer possible before attempting to sell it. Given its history, it’s not surprising perhaps that its status is unclear over the next 20 years. Most historians believe the diamond passed through private collectors or intermediaries in London during this time, wealthy clients of Eliason unwilling to publicly claim ownership of a stolen royal gem. 

The diamond then reliably surfaced in the early 1830s when it entered the collection of Henry Philip Hope (1774-1839), a wealthy Anglo-Dutch banker based in London, one of Europe’s foremost gemstone collectors of the time. It was listed in an inventory of his extensive gem collection, compiled around the time of his death. 

The stone passed to Hope’s nephew Henry Thomas; he displayed it at The Great Exhibition in London in 1851 - the Hope Diamond’s first public exhibition in the UK. By the 1890s, Lord Francis Hope had inherited it, but he was financially ruined - supposedly another curse victim - and he sold it in 1901 to satisfy his debts. It went to Joseph Frankel of New York in 1902, leaving Britain for ever, after nearly a century, mostly in the hands of private aristocratic collections. An American socialite, Evalyn Walsh McLean, then bought the Hope Diamond, wearing it frequently. Her son was killed in a car crash, her daughter died of an overdose, and her husband then left her and went insane.

Public domain Poster for the American film serial
The Hope Diamond Mystery (1921) with Grace Darmond. 
 

Finally, Harry Winston, one of the most famous US jewellers of the 20th century, donated the Hope Diamond to the Smithsonian Institution in 1958. While it may seem surprising that he gave away one of the most valuable gems in the world, he was a patron of gemological education and had a vision, successfully realised, to create a “National Gem Collection” at the Smithsonian. There was one final strike of the curse, though - he sent the gem by mail and the postman who delivered it supposedly injured his leg, crashed his truck, and saw his wife die shortly after. (These stories are considered false.) 

The curse narrative is said to have been dreamed up by Pierre Cartier in 1910–11 as a sales tactic to pique Evalyn McLean’s interest in the diamond. US tabloids ran with it. Discounting the superstition, the story of the Hope Diamond is one that epitomises many aspects of European history. There was a violent redistribution of power and wealth by the French mob. London then played a key role in laundering one of the most famous French crown jewels of all time, even at a reduced size. And America ended up with the wealth. 

 ~~~~~ 

About the author: Samuel Mee is founder of The Anique Ring Boutique. He is a member of LAPADA and the Society of Jewellery Historians.

Monday, September 30, 2024

The influence of the Anglo-Saxon language on modern English by Toni Mount

     As an author, I’m fascinated by the English language with all its quirky words, strange spellings and vast vocabulary which gives writers such a wealth of words that we can describe a single mood in so many ways without repeating ourselves. For example, from my window, I can see the day is murky, cheerless, dismal, gloomy, drab, sullen, misty, drizzly, damp, grey, etc. But how has this come about?

If we were to travel back in time to, say, sixth century England, we would hear our forebears, the Anglo-Saxon peoples, speaking a language which sounds nothing like modern English. If we understand German, there may be a few more similarities in the sound of the language but, even so, it’s quite different. They are speaking Old English, a West Germanic language used in England between the fifth and twelfth centuries. The people call their language Aenglisc, [pronounced: Enn-glish] and their home is Aengelcynn or Englaland.

Some interesting words change over time to become quite unrecognisable and hlaf has a fascinating story to tell. The word originally meant ‘loaf’, the ‘h’ sounded softly [and eventually dropped], followed by ‘laaff’, and this is how the Anglo-Saxons referred to bread and also to food in general. Surprisingly, hlaf had other uses too. The head of the household was the hlaf-weard or loaf-warden and anyone who ate the food was a hlaf-aeta. The woman of the house was the hlaefdige or loaf-kneader, using the feminine form and where dige became our modern ‘dough’. Hlaf-weard evolved, losing ‘h’ and ‘f’, running the words together so it sounded like ‘lahrd, then the Scots ‘laird’ and, ultimately, ‘lord’. So that grand title originally meant the guy in charge of the food. Hlaefdige went through similar changes, dropping letters and with ‘g’ pronounced as ‘y’, to become ‘lady’. 


But across the land, the language may have sounded quite different because there were not only the Angles and the Saxons, but Jutes, Frisians, Swedes and maybe other groups from Europe. Also, there were the Roman Britons who had remnants of the Celtic language, spoken before the Romans arrived in 43AD, to which Latin had been added. So people were speaking different languages and using various dialects with many different words for the same thing. And then the Vikings arrived to add to the mix yet they all need to communicate with each other and this aspect led to English evolving in a unique way.

Like its original tongue, Anglo-Saxon, and other Germanic languages, Old English had male, female and neuter genders in words and was an inflected language, so words changed according to their position, whether a noun was the subject or the object of a sentence, for example. Latin has six singular and six plural versions of a noun, depending on whether it’s the subject or object, if it’s being spoken to directly, or if it possesses something, is over, under or on something else or moving, etc. But in modern English, a table is a table, whatever position it has in a sentence and it has no gender so that’s irrelevant to any adjective used to describe it. If you’ve studied most other European languages based on Latin, such as French, Spanish or Italian, you’ll know how complicated they can be. Likewise, the Germanic languages are equally tricky. Of course, modern English suffers from quirky, awkward spelling and a few irregular verbs, like ‘to be’ which is a nasty one, but the genders and declensions of nouns are gone. Why did Old English lose most of its inflections?

A lot of unpleasantness is often blamed on the Vikings but it’s because of them that English dropped many of its complications. There came a time when half of England was known as the Danelaw when most of the eastern side of England, north of London and the River Thames – both Celtic words, in case you were wondering – was occupied by the Danes with their own language, laws and customs. They were no longer marauding Vikings but – mostly – peaceful, having settled down to farm the land and trade with their neighbours.

But it’s difficult to do business with people you can’t understand and so a new language began to evolve, incorporating both English and Danish words. The grammar of the two didn’t have a lot in common and genders clashed so frequently – whether a cartwheel was masculine, feminine or neuter, did it really matter when you needed yours mended, urgently? – that they were set aside.


Did you know that whether you’re angry with your husband or give him a hug, whether there is a gale blowing or fog outside, if you give a guest you don’t trust a kick on the leg or toss him out the window, you can’t do any of these things without using Old Danish words adopted into English. (Words of Danish origin are underlined.)

The language we call English today is actually a hybrid with thousands of Danish words, along with Latin from the Church, Norman French from William the Conqueror’s gang, Hindi from the time Britain was big in India and a whole assortment of vocabulary from all over the world.     

Sometimes, both the English and Danish words remain in use but take on slightly different meanings, for example, the Old English scyrte is a short, loose garment worn by men and women or as we say ‘shirt’. But Old Danish has skirt to describe the same item of clothing which we now use for the longer lower half of a garment. 

With modern English having evolved from so many other languages and with Hallowe’en coming up


we mustn’t forget ‘ghastly ghosts’ – the ‘gh’ at the beginning of a word coming from Dutch – no wonder our spelling is so weird – OE ‘wyrd’ meaning ‘destiny’, so that’s odd in itself – and sometimes seems plain silly. One of our strangest quirks is ‘gh’ at the end of a word, as in cough [coff], dough [doh], plough [plow], rough [ruff], daughter [dawter], caught [cawt], etc. Originally, this ‘gh’ was a sound like clearing your throat, as in the Scottish loch but what’s a little variety between friends?

So now you’ve heard something about how our language English has come to be, perhaps you can forgive us our illogical spellings and pronunciation because they all made sense once upon a time.





Toni Mount
is the best-selling author of several non-fiction history books which concentrate on the ordinary lives of people from history. Her latest book is How To Survive in Anglo-Saxon England

This edition looks at the place that would be called England, after the Romans left and before the Normans arrived. For convenience she has called this Anglo-Saxon England but it was much more complicate than that. It was a turbulent time, with the arrival of invaders from Europe and a new religion to cope with, yet a time of art and music too - a fascinating place to visit if you are given the chance.

This new book on Anglo-Saxons in the third in her series for Pen & Sword Books, the previous two were on the medieval and Tudor periods and a fourth is in the pipeline for next year. Imagine you’ve been transported back in time and you have to start a new life there. How will you fit in? Where will you live? What will you eat? Where will you shop? Who do go to if you get ill, or if you’re mugged in the
street?

All these questions, and many, many more, will be answered in this series of how-to guides for time travellers. Part self-help guide, part survival guide, these books will be written in a lively, engaging and humorous style, helping the reader to deal with the many problems and new experiences that they will face, and also help them to thrive in their new environment





Thursday, July 11, 2024

Relationships and Affinity During the Wars of the Roses

by C.F. Dunn 

What do recent politics, a cost of living crisis, and a pandemic have in common with a mid-fifteenth century civil war? 

A failed war in Europe, economic hardship, and a dynastic conflict threw England into political instability contributing to the outbreak of what we now refer to as the Wars of the Roses. Dominating the political landscape of the latter half of the fifteenth century, the struggle for control between the royal houses of York and Lancaster might seem irrelevant to the ordinary man and woman of the period, but there was much more at stake than who wore the crown. In an era of interdependency, no one was immune from the effects of war. 

I have long held an interest in the nature of relationships in medieval society, so much so that my university dissertation had the snazzy title typical of a nascent historian: The Power of Patronage in the 1483 Rebellion. That was a long time ago, but my interest persists and is a major theme in my current historical novels. Understanding the complex connections that bind one person to another - and the forces that can drive seemingly iron-clad relationships apart - are at the heart of what makes society tick. 

Much has been made of the development of feudalism to maintain a semblance of order in the upper echelons of society, but it is perhaps more accurate to say that feudalism was less the cause and more the result of something that was already recognised. The duty of a man to his overlord, or a lord to his king, was a formalised relationship - a contract - that reflected bonds that had long existed throughout society. Whether these were written or merely an understanding, they affected all people in all communities in the form of social and religious ties. This understanding was based upon a common language, faith, and cultural norms that bound communities from birth to death. Changes to those bonds in the shape of aliens (people from other regions, towns or countries) or challenges to the religious conventions from alternative heresies, such as that posed by the Lollards, might rock the accepted foundations, but rarely destabilised them enough to change them.

While feudalism in its original form evolved over the centuries to reflect a changing society, the fundamental aspect of relationships altered little.

It has long been recognised that relationships are tested when put under pressure. Increase that stress and what might have been cracks become fissures out of which monsters - long dormant - emerge. We need look no further than the recent COVID pandemic to witness its lasting effects in the current Ukrainian conflict, economic distress, and political instability. These echo the crises of a previous era: the twentieth century Spanish ’flu outbreak, economic crashes, rise of extremism in Europe and, of course, wars. Turn the clock back 600 years and similar trends become clear: global pandemics (murrain and plague) leading to social and economic turmoil, armed conflicts and political uncertainty. No part of any society exists alone or without feeling the fall-out from natural and man-made disasters.

Relationships based on mutual benefit are at the heart of society and never more so than during the Wars of the Roses when the contract between king and noble broke down. It was already on shaky ground. Henry of Derby (as he was referred to by later ‘chroniclers’) usurped the throne of his cousin - Richard II - becoming Henry IV, the first of what we refer to as the Lancastrian line of Plantagenets. Breaking the bond between king and lord, it sowed the seeds for future discord. Like any family quarrel, grievances festered until Henry IV’s grandson - Henry VI - no longer ruled with authority and rival claims made by his cousins Richard, Duke of York - head of the House of York - and Edmund, Duke of Somerset - representing the ruling House of Lancaster - manifested themselves in open conflict. 

How would this affect the wider community? In some ways it didn’t, the Church continued to prevail over matters of faith, merchants to trade, yeomen to husband the land. From the most elevated in society to the lowliest, marriages continued to be made to the benefit of the families, and contracts agreed for apprenticeships. It helps, however, to take a step back to look at the wider picture. While daily life was much as it had always been, the balance of power shifted, and he who held the reins controlled the granting of offices and positions of authority. The beneficiaries in turn selected men who would offer their service in return for patronage. To a greater or lesser degree, this trickle-down effect affected all regions of the country and all areas of society from church benefices to peat diggers, noblemen to merchants. 

A relationship had to offer mutual benefit to be valid and maintainable. This is the basis of contractual law even today. A contract lays down clear boundaries and affords stability and security. If a contract is broken the relationship fails - whether between two people, a community, a business, or a country - leading to uncertainty, mistrust, and a jostling for position and control.

A lord might have the service of a man, but it was a two-way benefit. The man gained not only the protection of his good lord, but also the reflected honour of association. In a period when status and precedence were keenly observed, the ties that bind were not necessarily those of servitude, but of mutuality.

Not surprisingly, there was a degree of overlap. A contract between one person and another might very well be the formalisation of a pre-existing friendship or acquaintance. The importance of seeing eye-to-eye, of liking someone, was no less valid, and is what drove some to stick with their choice of master no matter the personal consequences. However, self-interest and the desire to protect and promote the interests of the family were powerful drivers in seeking patronage, especially when the stakes were high and backing the wrong political horse might mean the difference between life and death. People were acutely aware of the vicissitudes of life, reflected in the common medieval reference to the Wheel of Fortune - the seemingly random outcome of fate as Fortuna turns her wheel, raising the lowly while casting the greatest down, only for it to turn again and fortunes be reversed. Self-interest, as a result, might lead to serving more than one master, an acceptable practice as long as there was no conflict of interest, although this was a line that could all too easily be crossed.

Relationships formed the web that held society together, but they were ever-changing, relying upon patronage, goodwill, and bonds of kinship and marriage to afford some stability in a fluid situation.

To view the Wars of the Roses as a few self-interested members of the aristocracy jostling for power is to over simplify the importance of personal relationships in maintaining a grounded society. Stability meant a greater degree of certainty in an uncertain world where there was no guarantee of employment, shelter, or food. Individuals were seen in terms of their connections and their actions were often the result of these relationships and the determining factor for decisions they made. Common to humanity, people had desires, fears, and ambition that drove their decisions, but their decisions were as much shaped by their relationships as shaping them.




~~~~~


Author Bio:

Author: C.F Dunn
Publisher: Resolute Books

Book 1 - Wheel of Fortune

Book Synopsis: The Earl looked dispassionately at the boy still kneeling by his uncle’s body. “He bears his family’s shame; he is nothing.” He turned his back and stood for a moment, contemplating the blank face of the sky. Then he breathed out, a long breath it seemed, held for an eternity. “It is done,” he said. “Justice is served.”


Book 2 - Sun Ascendants

Book Synopsis: 
In this heart-stopping sequel to Wheel of Fortune, Sun Ascendant is the gripping and immersive second book in a major new historical fiction series The Tarnished CrownSet during the fifteenth-century Wars of the Roses, award-winning novelist CF Dunn continues the story of strong-willed and resolute Isobel Fenton who, pitched into a turbulent world of love, loyalty and treachery, finds herself at the heart of power. 





Tuesday, April 30, 2024

Canterbury Tales Intervention

by Jack Heerema 

I suffer from a heroic mindset, aggravated by the romance of historical fiction.

There is no twelve-step program. There is no cure. My thought processes have become irrelevant. Is the miller telling his tale in Procol Harum’s Whiter Shade of Pale the same miller who is telling his tale in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales? How can this be! I have clung to the desperate hope that the person who borrowed the Venerable Bede’s Ecclesiastical History will return it. I have never admitted to anyone ever that I have a hard bound copy of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and only I know where to locate Einhard’s Life of Carolus Magnus. I went into complete denial.

I had an extreme violent reaction to this denial by writing a historical fiction novel.

The primary pitfall we heroic sufferers face is superimposing our cultural values, beliefs and sensibilities onto the time frame used as the backdrop for our narratives. Author’s such as Patrick O’Brien have avoided this trap. Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales is a welcoming beacon for navigating the culture, sensibilities, beliefs and values of 14th century England. Those writing about the period are offered a Canterbury Tales Intervention by Geoffrey Chaucer.

~~~~~~~~~~~

 Jack Heerema is the author of Marigold, Our Lady of Thieves’.It follows the life and fortunes of a foundling named Marion, who is rescued from a skip by Sir Kai ap Gruffydd who becomes her guardian and mentor. This story reveals how the sword Excalibur was found and how it came into her possession. On the way she is introduced to Robin Hood and the Valkyrie who would become her closest friends. The synopsis and reviews for the novel can be found at www.jackheerema.ca