Test your bee knowledge against medieval beekeepers

TRUE, FALSE or WHO KNOWS!? 

Medieval advice to beekeepers and my response as a modern beekeeper. Please do agree or disagree in a comment!

The extracts are from Geoponika: Agricultural Pursuits a collection of books compiled in 10th Century Byzantium

1. Let the intervals between all the trees be filled with roses, and lilies, and violets, and the crocus, which are very pleasant to the sight and to the smell; and they are very useful, and profitable, and they are of advantage to the bees. 

TRUE An easy one! Planting flowers does attract bees although there are specific links between types of flower and type of pollinator so modern advice is to plant wildflowers. Honeybees love dandelions, clover and, of course, bee borage. If you look at the labels on types of honey, you'll see honeybees' favourite forage foods!

2. Now, as bees produced from an ox come to life on the one-and-twentieth day, so are swarms produced in the same number of days.

FALSE The medieval notion that bees were born from worms in ox or calf corpses was reported as fact by such luminaries as Augustine (5thC CE) Isidore of Seville (7thC CE). FAKE news, people! I bet confusion between maggots and bee larvae led to the story. However, worker bees DO take 21 days to develop from egg to hatching, so this does show good beekeeping knowledge! (24 days for a drone (male bee) and 16 days for a queen).

3. The kings indeed are found in the upper parts of the combs: and it is proper to leave one in every hive, and to destroy the rest; for the bees being divided between them, raise a sedition, and they desist from their work.

FALSE There is no bee king. The medieval assumption was that the beehive was a mirror of the most common human feudal system with a male leader. We now know this is a (female) queen bee and that, in a healthy hive, she is the only egg-layer. Modern thought is that she is no leader - the bees' system of decision-making is complex and democratic. BUT beekeepers will tell you that the queen sets the tone for the hive. If you replace a queen, a hive can turn from being aggressive to being friendly. There is still much we don't know!

HALF TRUE The queen cells for a replacement queen are usually half-way up the comb whereas queen cells for swarm queens hang from the bottom of frames. Bees will indeed be 'distracted' during a change of queens and the battles between rivals so some beekeepers do eliminate all the queen cells bar one. This is risky as if the sole queen dies (e.g. during her mating flight) there are no alternatives.

The best indeed of the kings are those of a yellow colour, of a size larger than that of a bee by the half; the second are those that are variegated, rather of a dark colour, of double size.

I HAVE NO IDEA but it's interesting that in the 10thC different types of honeybee queen and their virtues were observed and discussed. Just by choosing big yellow queens in preference to stripey dark ones, humans were breeding honeybees selectively long before theories of evolution were formulated. There is still huge debate over which strains of honeybees are best. My last purchase included a Frere Adam queen, trademarked for the famous beekeeper monk who worked at Buckfast Abbey from 2019 and who created this cross-breed of Italian bees with African bees.

This animal alone seeks a leader, that takes care of the whole swarm; it therefore always honours the king, and it accompanies him with alacrity, wherever he takes his station, and it supports him when he is fatigued, and it carries and protects him when he cannot fly.

TRUE The bee colony does congregate around the queen and 'pay her respect' with a special fluttering gesture of wings. A bee swarm will cluster around the queen. Bees do carry and protect their queen if she is weakened. I saw this on my beekeeping course when a queen reacted badly to being marked. The beemaster put a coloured spot on the queen through the mesh in the tube he'd placed her in but when he released her., she lay quite still on the landing board. A group of bees rushed out, expressed anxiety and carried her into the hive. The story ended well and she recovered, thanks to her courtiers. 

Modern thinking does not suggest that the queen takes care of the swarm but her existence and behaviour, plus her scent, sets the tone for the hive. A queenless hive is depressed, suffers disease and decline. The workers stop gathering pollen, become apathetic. 

4. If it be necessary for a purchaser, or for some other reason, that they (the hives) should be moved, let the person tie the hives, in the night, carefully in leather (skins), and let him take them away before day ; for in this private manner he will neither disturb the combs, nor harass the bees.

TRUE Night-time is best for moving bees and I will never forget collecting a hive full of bees from a Provençal hillside in the darkness, my husband and I wearing white suits (as many of our friends think appropriate). We used belts strapped around the hive and foam in the entrance to stop angry bees escaping.

5. You will cure them of dimness of sight with the smoke of the leaves of origanum (origano).  

FALSE Bee eye-sight is amazing. They have two sets of eyes and see a range of ultra-violets that flowers use to attract their pollinators. Through bee eyes, a flower has a scented target on it shouting 'I'm here!' I am prepared to state that a blast of origano smoke will not improve a bee's eyesight but I must confess I have no evidence to back that up. I DO wonder how a medieval beekeeper figured out that the bees' eyesight was dim (note the plural in the instruction - it seems ALL the bees are going short-sighted). I can think of many possible misinterpretations, for example

- a bee uses its waggle-dance to follow its internal GPS to the exact spot where home entrance is - or should be. If you transfer bees from a hive with a low entrance to one with a high entrance, they will at first head for the place the old entrance was.

So you give a blast of oregano smoke and hey presto, within a few days the bees' eyesight must have improved because they're using the correct entrance (as they do anyway after a few days to get used to it).

6. You will also destroy creatures that lie in wait for them and they are wasps, the titmouse (tit family), the bee-eater, swallows, crocodiles, and lizards; and drive away and destroy all things that are pernicious to the bee.

TRUE All these creatures will eat bees.

This artist seems to have added an extra pair of legs but I love the way the bees look like flowers.

7. But it consummately hates the slothful; and they therefore take the slothful and kill them.

FALSE Scientists have tracked individual bees and found that some foraging worker bees are very 'lazy', do little foraging and fall asleep in flowers often :) but no chastisement has been observed. However, drones (male bees) have become synonymous with 'lazy creatures' in human vocabulary prior to drone machines. It is true that drones are expelled from the hive (killed) in autumn so that could be interpreted as hating and killing slothful bees.

Are drones 'slothful'? The biological function of a drone is to fertilise a queen (any queen) during her maiden flight. If one succeeds, he dies. Those who don't succeed are the boys of summer, waiting for queens or in the hive so no, they don't do housework, child care, feeding, gathering or honey-making or defence (they have no stings). If necessary, they do help cool the hive by vibrating their wings. Our local nougat museum has a human-size beehive mock-up and the model drones are playing cards and drinking beer so I think the public image is obvious :)

BUT without drones, the colony dies. One problem with that parasite we beekeepers hate, the varroa mite, is that it develops on the drone larvae. The resulting weakness in the colony makes it clear how vital drones are.

Note the traditional enmity between bears and bees

8. Its mechanical skill indeed seems to make a very near approach to a rational understanding, for it makes hexagonal cells.

TRUE and the mathematics of nature is a wonder.

9. Proper harmony is also appreciated by this animal; for which reason, bee-masters bring them together by means of cymbals, or by clapping heir hands with just adaptation.

I HAVE NO IDEA but my bees do not show any signs of obedience. I am happy that they don't attack me when I sing or hum to them and we'll leave it there.

10. They indeed become unmanageable at the approach of human creatures, and they fall upon them, and they are more severe on such as smell of wine, and of perfume; and they fall upon women, especially upon such as are of an amorous complexion.

I love this portrayal of bees, showing them as bird-like. Medieval thinking considered bees to be small birds, not insects. I think the artist was influenced by this belief!

SOMETIMES TRUE Bees are sometimes very aggressive and sometimes very easy to work with. Beekeepers will give you many reasons for this: storm coming, high winds, rain, dark colours, woollen clothes. Scent is very important to honeybees and they will kill their queen or each other if the smell is wrong. They do react badly to some perfumes and the venom in their stings gives off the scent of bananas, rousing other bees to attack. That's why the bees attack Mielitta in 'Queen of the Warrior Bees; she's wearing the banana scent delivered anonymously as her 18th year-cycle gift.

As to whether they fall upon women... FALSE! There have been too many women beekeepers for that to be true, including the Irish Patron Saint of Bees, Saint Gobnait.

I've suffered one attack from my bees and maybe it was because of my amorous complexion but I think it more like to have been because: they were in a bad mood with a storm in the air; I banged the hive trying to get in a frame that didn't fit properly; and I was wearing a snood over my hair that must have smelled wrong (That's the only way I can explain the attack focusing completely on my head and hair, not my face at all.) 

11. The bee is the most sagacious and the most skilful of all animals, and it approaches man in point of understanding; and its work is truly divine, and of the greatest utility to the human race

YOU DECIDE! The more we know about bees, the more we realise that the hive mind is a super-organism of great complexity and they are now considered essential to the human race not just useful.

If bees interest you, then you'll enjoy shapeshifting into one, entering a beehive and getting a bee's eye-view of the world through my eco-fantasy novel.

Check out Queen of the Warrior Bees:one misfit girl and 50,000 bees

Together they must change the world.

Buy the book

GOODREADS REVIEWS

5* 'captivating and intriguing'
5* 'I loved the bees and the parts about the hive - as a bee keeper in training I appreciate the author’s factual bee knowledge and the imaginative way this was translated into fantasy - just wonderful.'
5* 'I was a little dubious going in to the book about the whole bee element. I had yet to read a book where this kind of story line works. But Jean Gill again does it with such ease that I not only believed it, I enjoyed it! The descriptions and the writing style were so potent I could almost believe I was in the book right alongside Mielitta. This is a book that I would highly recommend. I will now be going straight out to try anything else by this author!!'

53 goodreads reviews - average 4.17* out of 5 - see them all

Geoponika: Agricultural Pursuits. Compiled in 10th Century Byzantium

Translated from the Greek by Owen T. (Thomas) 1749-1812

PHOTOS
1. Douce 88 fol 111v B
2. Bibliothèque Municipale de Reims, ms. 993, Folio 151v
3. The Luttrell Psalter
4. Medieval Bees Hortus Noster
5.  Barthélémy L'Anglais, op.cit, 1445-1450, Artificiosae Apes, France, Le Mans XVe s. BNF, FR 136, fol. 16
6. Illuminated Manuscript BNF
7. Koninklijke Bibliotheek, KB, KA 16, Folio 128v
More medieval bee photos can be found on the American Garden History Blog

Benedictines and bubbly; the Abbey of Saint-Hilaire

From the village of Limoux, not far from Carcassonne, the road to Saint-Hilaire and its Benedictine abbey, winds through woods and vineyards. In October, the mists and autumn colours add to the sense of time-travel as stone walls loom out of nowhere. This probably means you are lost, as we were, and that you should have taken the much shorter road. But then you would not have seen the cemetery on the hill, blooming with chrysanthemums in preparation for Toussaint, All Saints' Day, a national holiday when the French pay their respects to their dead.

The houses of the village encroaching on the abbey

The dead were all around me as I walked alone in the cloisters, the only visitor to an abbey founded in the early 9th century, the place where the body of Saint Hilaire was buried. It was mentioned at this time in a charter from Louis le Debonnaire, confirming donations from his father Charlemagne to Abbot Monellus of St-Hilaire. Early features remain in the later buildings and over time, the village has crept from outside the abbey walls to lean over the church itself.

My spirit guide

If you love medieval history, as I do, you will find treasure here. One of the fascinating characters who has turned up in my 12th century research is the Master of Cabestany but I never expected to find one of his masterpieces in this little village in the Languedoc. Made of one slab of white marble from the Pyrenees, this 'sarcophagus' is more accurately an altar piece because it is far too narrow and could not contain a corpse.

The current setting of the sarcophagus,
which was probably once the main altar, in the choir

Look at the people, gawking out their windows as the martyred Saint Sernin is beaten and torn apart by a goaded bull. He still manages to bless the two women who pray for him. Medieval brutality and Christianity in all its horrific richness.

Medieval rubber-neckers

A jongleur on a  tight-rope is distracted by the goings-on

The goaded bull and animals representing the bestial nature of the saint's oppressors

The identity of the Master of Cabestany is a mystery but his - or could it be their? or even her? work is famous throughout Catalonia, known for a certain style. I find it strange that the story progresses from right to left and, having written about left-handers, I wonder whether this was an accidental left-handed reversal of European writing convention? Or deliberate left-handed choice? Or could the Master have been from another culture, where writing flowed from right to left? It seems more than odd for an artist of this quality not to be aware of conventions. Do let me know your theories!

The story of Saint Sernin, reading from right to left (missing the two side panels),
from his evangelical preaching to his gory end

Mysteries and ghosts were all around me and I jumped when something brushed my leg - a cat who accompanied me with the air of a guide who knew all and wasn't telling. Many monks must have met unnatural ends here and when you climb the pulpit in the monks' refectory, you hear your words of warning ringing out around the hall. The protection of the Counts of Carcassonne was not enough to keep the abbey safe in the madness of the Albigensian Crusade that swept Languedoc in the 13th century and the monks were accused of heresy and merged with Les Frères Prêcheurs, the Dominicans.

The Benedictines emerged from their troubles and endowments from the local nobles continued. Naturally the Abbot's apartment benefited from such generosity and I was feeling cynical as I walked into a room that took my breath away. The textures and patterns on the ceiling reminded me of those in the Palace of Joy in Zaragossa but the addition of satirical portraits make it look like an illuminated manuscript, with which a scribe has had fun in the margins.

Abbot's chamber ceiling, with portraits

Detail of ceiling portraits

Heraldic shields on the walls below the decorated ceiling

My favourite motif - a heraldic beast with banner in its teeth

Patterned rows carved in wood

The walls bear the shields and names of all the Abbots and you can imagine how excited I felt at seeing the dates 1146 and 1154. I get the shivers every time I come across details of the period I write about.

The Abbots of 1146 and 1154

Perhaps the Abbey's biggest contribution to the world came in the 16th century. In 1531 the monks created what is claimed here to be the first sparkling wine in the world, the 'blanquette' for which Limoux is now known and I stood in the very 'cave' or cellar where a monk was surprised by bubbles forming in the corked bottles of white wine, as if they were undergoing a second fermentation...

The birth-place of sparkling wine: the wine cave in St-Hilaire

From its origin in this cellar, bubbly gained international popularity, leading 17th century Irish dramatist George Farquahar to comment, 'Brut sparkles like the lively remarks of a man of wit.'

The famous 'blanquette'
Photo: Agne27 at the English language Wikipedia

As I turned to go, I sensed a lighter presence than the black monks. A faded inscription above a door lintel gave me enough of a clue to work out who used to come here and why. Can you figure it out?

A long discussion with the Abbey curator confirmed my guess - this became the 'Ecole Publique des Filles' in the 19th century so the girls and small boys from the village came here for their lessons. The curator also clarified much else about St-Hilaire and played troubadour CDs for me. Now all I need to know is whether Estela and Dragonetz passed this way, and, if so, why.

Game of Thrones - Richard III and the princes in the Tower

Today being the Ides of March - the 15th - (in UK time), it seems fitting to have a Guest Post about one of the oldest, most famous, most vile (alleged) murders in English history.

Guest post from Moonyeen Blakey, author of 'The Assassin's Wife', medieval fiction with a supernatural twist. The story of Nan, a servant girl gifted with second sight, draws the reader into one of history's most famous unsolved crimes through Nan's relationships with those in the household of Richard, Duke of Gloucester, later King Richard III

Love him? Hate him? Richard III still inspires extreme reactions and the controversy over where his final resting place should be rages on. Moon joins me on my blog to give her insights, based on years of research, into the dark crime which labelled Richard a villain, helped along by Shakespeare's 'propaganda'.

Dirty, Devilish Deeds in the Tower

Last year's discovery of Richard III's bones under a carpark in Leicester, raised more than new interest in the history of this much maligned king. It stirred the spectres of two, lost, little, noble boys said to haunt the Garden Tower. Who were these waifs in black velvet, doomed to cling hand-clasped and forlorn, confronting us perpetually with their abject misery?  Who could have abandoned them to such a fate?

Those primary school-children who studied history during the 1960s might have had some inkling. According to a 'potted' Children's History Book Series published by Unstead and used throughout schools for 7-11 years in England, these small boys belonged to the Royal House of York. They were in fact the sons of Edward IV, the dashing Yorkist king who took the crown from poor, mad Henry VI of the Royal House of Lancaster. Again, according to Unstead, whole swathes of history could be reduced to just a few relevant sentences summing up the entire later 15th century history of England to something like: 'The rival barons fought for the crown and the strongest set himself up as king.' (Sorry, girls, only manipulative, scheming princesses/noblewomen stood any chance of influencing the menfolk - and then probably by using the usual methods!)

It seemed the peasant population drifted along in some thick miasma of ignorance merely 'obeying orders' and benefiting nothing from the various changes on either side. Kings came and went, princesses were bought and sold, nobles swapped sides and embraced underhand deals, and Richard Neville, the wily Earl of Warwick, manoeuvred all the pieces, like a giant puppet-master, in this fascinating Game of Thrones.

Richard III's bones provided historians with a wealth of exciting information. First he suffered from scoliosis--a painful disease of the spine. Here was meat and drink for all who'd believed the tales of the wicked, hunch-backed uncle who'd crept up the Tower steps to murder the innocent children in the dark! My not-so-scholarly school book displayed just this picture - the twisted monarch leering villainously as he trod his solitary way towards the slumbering lads to snuff out their lives!

Of course the Richard III Society, championed by the passionate Phillipa Langley, refused to accept Richard's infamy. Presenting the public with a charming, romantic reconstruction of the king's head, they quickly won huge support. I suspect many who saw the Unstead History Book refused to believe such a man could have smothered his nephews single-handed. Certainly I was never convinced.

But those two boys - Edward, Prince of Wales, eldest son to Edward IV, and young Richard, Duke of York, his brother, disappeared mysteriously in1486. So what became of them?

The struggle for power is never pretty. Whilst 15th Century England's noble cousins battled for the throne, desperate to provide the country with the strongest ruler, to maintain England's powerful position in Europe, and ensure the longevity of the ruling family, various wicked deeds were performed 'for the best'. Doubtless the princes' murder was such a one.

Henry VI's reign demonstrated the disaster of having a minor on the throne. No one wanted a similiar situation. A united family created strength and security. Noble girls proved useful assets in cementing firm alliances. Eventually everyone might be expected to accept what seemed most expedient for such dangerous times. In this case, to exclude the young princes and plump for loyalty, strength and experience. The logical choice had to be Richard III.

Is it possible that people should desert the princes' cause so quickly? No doubt the commons recalled Edward IV --that handsome, courageous, warrior-king who'd sired them, with admiration and nostalgia. But the people were sick and tired of war. His memory faded into a kind of Mills and Boon Romance--a gorgeous image which had been beautifully created and accentuated by the rumours of his secret marriages and dangerous liaisons. But who wanted to begin on another era of warfare and intrigue? Edward's wife, the fabled beauty Elizabeth Wydeville, was never popular. She had proved greedy and ambitious, promoting her own family beyond the old nobility. People feared she would take the real power behind the throne once her son was crowned. Perhaps it was time to make some drastic changes?

People will see what they want to see. Avoiding close examination of the facts allows one to create a kind of vague, rosy glow over the past. Perhaps it was time to let the princes go...? Perhaps the trail of secrets concerning their disappearance should not be unravelled after all? 

Of course many people stood to profit by their removal. Historians argue still as to who might have plotted and schemed for their demise. The first name which springs to mind is probably Henry Tudor, product of Margaret Beaufort's cold, religious fanaticism, the boy on whom she lavished all her` attention, Determined he should be king, Margaret, clever as a snake, wound her coils about all those noble persons who might aid her to fulfill this ambition--an ambition she believed to be a part of his destiny.

And what about Harry Buckingham? Disgruntled member of the old nobility,forced into an arranged marriage with a dreaded Wydeville princess, old friend of Richard III, why did he suddenly turn rebel?

There are so many possibilities when it comes to choosing villains!

But perhaps it was just sheer exhaustion which made the people of England turn their backs on the princes? We all love a change. The new order beckoned. If only the country could forget about fighting and get back on its feet again... A change is as good as a rest?

Sadly, for the boys in the Tower, they were soon forgotten - but not quite. Throughout the turbulent years that followed still people sought for answers. Finding bones under an old staircase sparked yet more curiosity... But DNA testing was still necessary to identify these bones.

Now, with all this knowledge at their fingertips, and the bones of King Richard III in their capable hands, all the scientists need is the Queen's permssion to re-examine those mysterious finds. Why then, is she so reluctant to allow this???!     

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My review

A gripping new take on the princes in the tower

Impeccable research and really takes you into the period

The central, fictional character, Nan, is our narrator, and a very likeable young girl. Gifted - or cursed - with second sight, she is caught up in the conflict between York and Lancaster, kings and their womenfolk, as a servant in various important households. I was impressed by the way Blakey ensured that Nan moved to wherever the story was best served, while making Nan's motives for such a move seem entirely believable. I knew little about this period of history apart from the controversy over the princes' fate but I was completely drawn into the 15th century world and its people, real and imagined. Empathy with Nan made me desperate to prevent the scene recurring in her nightmares and there was plenty of suspense to keep those pages turning. It was even possible to understand Nan's love and compassion for the assassin of the title, so well were the tragic dilemmas of the period conveyed.

Maybe there is a little too much ominous melodrama and obscure prophesy for my taste but this is just the sort of book to read curled up by the fire, on a winter's evening, shivering as the ghost blows out a candle, or the nightmare raven promises blood.

Let's argue about history

When you write a historical novel, you can expect to argue about history.

12th C Llansteffan Castle, Wales

I wasn't surprised when my network of critical friends found some mistakes in the period background of my 12th century novel and it was incredibly useful to have their input. Usually, they were right.

What did surprise me though was how passionate I felt about some aspects of my background research; black armour, chastity belts, riding side-saddle, handkerchiefs, pills, sweets and Damascene swordmaking are just some of the topics that raise my blood pressure.

Sometimes, I really did have evidence that bucked the received opinion. Sometimes I just felt plain stubborn about the practicalities of life. I haven't felt like this since a historian told me that prehistoric men did cave-drawings of prey animals either to plan or to celebrate a hunt. 'How do you know they were men?' I asked him. 'Why couldn't women have been drawing to entertain and teach the children?' And that's if you assume a patriarchal gender-stereotyped society. What if it wasn't?

In a nutshell, these are some of the problems with 'history'

- Evidence is limited and open to interpretation.

- Theories are based on assumptions - and collapse like a house of cards if the assumptions are changed.

- The history passed down to us was written by men, and is mostly about male leaders - HIS story.

- Different places and peoples communicate history differently.

11th century part of the Alhambra, Spain

So, in random order - and feel free to comment:-

chastity belts - were they around in 1150 and what were they used for? I found some online suggestions that  the Crusades of 1147 onwards, resulting in husbands' long absences, motivated the use of chastity belts. I like the idea that they were perhaps used by women to prevent rape rather than by husbands to lock up their wives' chastity but I don't see why both aren't possible.

handkerchiefs - apparently not around in 1150 but what I want to know is whether this just means that the word hadn't been coined or did everyone wipe their noses on their sleeves? Just because there's no evidence of something doesn't mean it wasn't there and I don't believe that inventive individuals didn't ... invent!... useful items ahead of their official appearance in language or records. If I'd lived in the 12th century, I'd have had a nose-wiping scarf! As well as a pretty no-snot one to give to my true knight.

the Black Knight - OK, no black armour in 1150 (although I bet the Japanese Samurai had some) but everyone who's watched 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail', or of course read the Mabinogion, knows that the black knight is the baddy. So what was black about him? No, I don't believe it was just his black heart showing.

riding side-saddle - didn't happen until much later, when the saddle for riding in this manner was invented. Pictures show women in medieval Europe riding astride. I agree, women rode astride! That doesn't mean they never rode side-saddle. Absence of proof doesn't mean it didn't happen. And have you tried sitting astride on a horse, while wearing a long, slightly flared gown? You have to hitch your skirt up to your knickers (which you wouldn't have been wearing in 1150) and, believe me, the pose is really not lady-like. So, unless you were wearing your incredibly wide circular riding-gown, I reckon you'd have gone for sitting side-saddle! I found one person who agrees with me - hooray!

pills, sweets and Damascene swordmaking - not known in northern Europe in 1150. Agreed. But it is difficult for someone British (me) to take in just how sophisticated al-Andalus (Muslim-occupied Spain) and the Holy Land were in 1150. The Arabs, other Middle Eastern peoples, and the Jews, wherever they lived, had highly developed science, medicine, surgery, engineering, geography. They could make pills and sweets.

Britain had no sugar. This luxury good only reached southern France in 1150, reportedly brought back from the crusades by Alienor(Eleanor) of Aquitaine.

The superb filigree swords of Damascus, combining strength and beauty, cannot be recreated today. Scientists think that one of the ingredients, probably coming from India, was exhausted so that it is no longer possible to recreate the chemistry.

woman with sword

Any Christians trading with other peoples, or crusading against them - especially those who settled in the Holy Land - came into contact with all this knowledge.They brought it back to the south of France in 1149, to barbaric Britain at the end of the 12th century. And the Church stamped out every example of 'heresy' it found, from papermaking to astronomy.

I would like to believe that individuals like my character, Dragonetz, learned from their neighbour Moors and Jews, and that little candles of knowledge were passed on, despite the Church, to blaze into the Christian community's collective mind two hundred years later. We did finally, get books for everyone. And now look what's happening to them.

Lady of the Lake

Nostalgia - 5 huge changes in my lifetime

One of the big questions for a writer of historical fiction is how far it is possible to get into the mind of someone who lived x centuries ago. Researching facts is not enough; you have to make that imaginative leap into a different way of thought. I am now well into Chapter 3 of the follow-up to 'Song at Dawn' and I feel like I'm dancing across twenty tightropes, skipping from one thread to another and testing that they will hold while I turn somersaults and land on my feet. One of those tests is 'Would someone living in that time have behaved in that way?' which adds complications to the usual test questions 'Would this individual have behaved that way or said that?'

While I was testing my threads, I thought about how much has changed in my own lifetime, making it difficult if not impossible for my children to understand people of an older generation. If you're over thirty I'm sure you already have a notion of the huge changes to ways of life that we have experienced and at fifty-six, I can add some years to that.

My arbitrary choice of cultural changes in my life-time (and my white British female cultural background) followed by a very general 12th century take on them:-

1) children's loss of freedom.
People my age had more freedom as children. We had no parental supervision in the parks, in the streets, roaming the countryside, walking (or cycling or taking buses) wherever we chose. Nowadays my parents would be reported to the NSPCC but they were considered normal, caring parents in their time. Between the ages of 8 and 11, I met up with friends at dusk and we ran go-carts, chased each other, played gang and spy games, climbed onto roofs, rode each other's bicycles. We went swimming, either as a group of children or as individuals. I often walked down to the shore alone and swam in the sea. I even remember the sign that said 'No swimming today - sharks' (We were an army family and living in Hong Kong at the time). I caught tadpoles in jamjars by remote waterfalls, I caught buses with my friend to go stationery shopping in the city or village markets. My parents had absolutely no idea where I was and apparently didn't worry. I ran wild and am so grateful for the barefoot richness of my childhood.

12th century (in what are now France and Britain) - Childhood ended young and a child followed in his/her parent's footsteps, heavily gender stereotyped. If you were training to be an archer, you had to start at about 8 years old or you'd never be any good. If you were in the landed classes, betrothal at 11 and marriage at 14 were normal. The age of majority was 15.

2) sex before marriage or - worse still - living in sin doomed a woman forever in this world and the next. Any children resulting were evil.

This was changing in 1970s Britain but my generation grew up with our parents believing this to be true. They would have been horrified by couples deliberately living together and having children without marrying but this is normal in modern Britain. To be born out of wedlock was a shame that never lifted from my parents' generation. Their peers were locked up in mental asylums for unmarried pregnancy and it was not only the girls who suffered. I know of one eighteen year old boy who committed suicide from shame at getting his girlfriend pregnant. These values still hold in other cultures but not in mainstream white Britain. When people complain about the breakdown of marriage as an institution, and the impact on children, it's worth remembering some of the costs of believing that marriage is all and a woman's virginity is social currency. No, I don't want to go back to the days when 'living in sin' meant social ostracisation.

Part of the same set of values was the attitude to homosexuality, which was illegal between men and unmentionable regardless of gender. There might be a long way still to go but the very existence of civil partnership shows a huge shift in attitude.

12th century - varied according to class but virginity (for women) and (arranged) marriage were paramount amongst the nobility. Homosexuality was always condemned in Christian society but a more open feature of men's lives in the middle east. Classical literature shows a more open attitude at times in the past.

3) global communication meant writing a letter

Using the telephone cost money so I was allowed to give urgent factual messages that way and nothing else. 'Chatting' on the phone was unthinkable. No computers, no mobiles, no texting. We didn't even have one of the newfangled televisions in our house. Photos were expensive, rare and processed in darkrooms, then placed in one or two albums, covering a lifetime with a hundred images. I still remember the excitement when at fourteen I was given a trannie - a transistor radio. It was about the size of a bag of sugar and I couldn't believe that something that small could work. I used to play Radio Luxemburgh late at night when I was supposed to be sleeping, holding this wonderful invention up to my ear.

12th century - the idea of pigeon post was brought back to Europe after seeing this speedy form of communication widely in use in the Holy Land in the middle of the 12th century

4) Begging on the streets in Britain was rare and confined to a few big cities. We were proud of our social support and our national health care. British people were offended and embarrassed by the dirty foreign habit of begging, that they encountered when travelling.

It is a complete mystery to me as to why there was no-one sleeping rough in the many small towns and villages of Britain that I lived in or passed through when I was growing up. I don't even remember there being people sleeping in doorways and subways in cities, and I was the sort of child who would have noticed. I just don't believe people are poorer today because I remember how poor people were then. Perhaps they just had roofs over their heads, squatting in shed or barns. Perhaps people lived in intolerable situations with each other and had no ideas of  escape or living alone. I would really like someone to tell me why this has changed so much. I get the feeling it has changed in Canada too but I don't know about the USA or other countries.

12th century  - begging was commonplace, a way of life for many, and there was no provision for the handicapped, the sick or the mentally ill. Beggars were taken for granted and rich people gave alms to beggars as part as their charitable duty. There was no stigma in being a beggar - it was a role in society, albeit at the bottom of the hierarchy.

5) no central heating and little privacy - when the weather became cold, one room in the house was kept warm by an electric/gas/coal fire (the living room), the kitchen was warm from cooking and the rest of the house was brass monkeys freezing. Washing and bathing in an unheated bathroom in winter in Scotland was the best deterrent to hygiene I've ever known. The hot water bottle was a lifesaver but your nose still turned blue. You could forget going to your bedroom for adolescent sulks; the choice was the warm living room watching your parents' choice of TV programme, or listening to their Mantovani vinyl LPs, or under-age drinking in the local pub as often as you could manage to escape. Of course if one of your friends had a more teen-friendly house (i.e. their parents were out) you went there. Families were larger and bedrooms were shared so even when the weather was warm, being inside a house meant living too close to your parents, by their rules and preferences.

Nowadays everyone thinks it's his/her right to live alone, which more and more people do. Living with someone else is a huge decision, rather than what used to be considered the natural process whereby you lived with your parents, then you married (and often still lived with your parents)

Central heating allows all the rooms in a house to be used, changing completely family relations. Children and especially teenagers now have a right to privacy, and usually one bedroom per person. Parents and children can avoid seeing each other, even when living in the same house. You can't freeze your kid into being with you any more. And if you don't have shared mealtimes as a routine, which is true of many modern families, you can't starve them into being with you either. Given the choice these days, people spend more time alone - or online with the people they choose to be with, instead of ones in the same house or street.

12th century - Hearth equalled home, whether a cottage with a smoky peat fire and one room to live in or a castle with a fire-place the size of the cottage and a Solar, the chamber catching the sunlight to add one more warm room. The castles and palaces we love to imagine living in, thinking how grand we would have felt, were actually complete communities housing hundreds of people. It was usual to sleep several in a bed (if you had a bed) and dozens would have slept in the Great Hall. Privacy for procreation was dependent on whether you had the luxury of a curtain between you and your children (or your neighbours). If you were very rich, you would have lived in such a community with a separate bedchamber to yourself, and apart from your spouse, but with servants coming and going all day. Privacy was not a medieval concept. Wanting to be alone would have been considered downright weird and as for the need to 'find yourself' - about as likely as in 1960s USSR. 


In a way, every novel is a historical novel. The time period can never be 'now' as so much is changing technologically, politically and culturally over the time it takes to write and publish 100,000 words. Even fantasy novels or sc-fi novels have a period feel, based on our current knowledge and technology. Fantasy novels are usually vaguely medieval, with magic added, and follow past conventions about magic. Sci-fi novels  imagine the future from the possibilities currently envisioned. You only have to look at sci-fi novels written fifty years ago to see how rooted in their own time they were. So how far we can get into the mind of someone who lived x centuries ago seems to me to depend on the usual skills of a writer.

I'd love to hear from other people as to what you think has changed most in your lifetime. If you're under ten, leave it a bit before posting, then get back to me.

A lady's favour

Another extract from 'Song at Dawn'.

Read blurb on amazon

1150
Dragonetz is Commander of the Guard and Troubadour to Aliénor (Eleanor) of Aquitaine, Queen of France, and Estela is the mystery girl Aliénor has required him to tutor. In this part of the story he is showing her his secret building project, a paper mill. At this time in Europe, only the Moors had the skills to make paper. 

That, my sweet Estela, is the beauty of it! I shall sell paper to the Church for enormous profit and I shall be fantastically rich! As shall my workers.’

Estela chewed the side of a finger, a bad habit she had kept from childhood. ‘The Church won’t like it,’ she stated.

‘No, they won’t.’

‘That makes a dangerous enemy.’ Estela stated the fact.

‘We’ve told him,’ Raoulf was gloomy. ‘But you can see what he’s like. The future pff!’ and he spat, coarsely. ‘The future will be my Lord’s body with a bolt through it!’

‘Ever the optimist!’ Dragonetz clapped Raoulf on the back. ‘That’s what you’re here for, you and your men, to watch my mill and watch my back. Speaking of which, this should make things even.’ With which enigmatic statement, he tore off his doublet and underthings so that he too was bare to the waist, then he grabbed Arnaut’s hand and dragged his unwilling man into a run. Shouting, ‘I said I owed him a ducking,’ Dragonetz ran the two of them straight off the edge of the bank into the river.

‘You mad whore-son,’ burst from Raoulf as he rushed after them to the bank, anxiously scanning the murky water for signs of life. Estela counted to thirty before two heads burst up above the surface, gasping, spouting and followed by thrashing arms. Arnaut twisted underwater, avoiding Dragonetz’ attempt to duck him again and came up at a safe distance, both men treading water and spluttering. ‘Come and join us, Estela,’  Dragonetz called to her.

‘Can’t swim,’ she yelled back.

‘What are you thinking of, bringing a Lady here!’ Raoulf shouted, purple with annoyance.

‘A Lady! I’d forgotten!’

‘Oh my God, no,’ groaned Raoulf.

‘Estela, my sweet, Arnaut wants to do combat and regain his pride – throw us a token.’

Without thinking, Estela pulled the bangle off her arm and threw it in a high arc to land equidistant from the two men. Neither wasted words but dived underneath, rippling the surface as they carved the water underneath. Another count, thirty, forty, Estela thought that Raoulf would explode, holding his own breath to see how long it was possible, then Arnaut broke surface, gasping, followed quickly by a triumphant Dragonetz whooping and waving the bangle in the air.

‘She’s not an ordinary Lady,’ he yelled, ‘she’s a Troubairitz! Ask her!’ And then he struck out for the bank, Arnaut following at a safe distance and after some horseplay with Dragonetz trying to prevent Arnaut getting out the water, both men stood dripping and laughing, pushing each other. Dragonetz waved the bangle, taunting and Arnaut stood, bent double, getting the words out with difficulty. ‘You always have to win, don’t you, even when you don’t want the prize!’

Dragonetz’ eyes glittered. ‘Always, Arnaut, always,’ and then he knelt in front of Estela, offering her the bangle back. She looked down on the black curly hair, bent in mock homage, the broad wet shoulders, the long tapered fingers reaching out to her, returning her token. She felt Arnaut’s stillness, the sunshine, the moment to which this day had been leading all along. She shut her eyes and felt for the lyric. If this were a song, how would it go? And then she knew what to do.

some of Jean Gill's books on Goodreads

Snake on Saturdays

reviews: 3
ratings: 51 (avg rating 4.75)

Song at Dawn

reviews: 1
ratings: 276 (avg rating 4.50)

Someone to Look Up to

reviews: 2
ratings: 185 (avg rating 4.50)

On the Other Hand

ratings: 114 (avg rating 3.00)

A Small Cheese in Provence

ratings: 3 (avg rating 0.0)