The Medieval Sourcebook

I'm still pretty new at this internet business and am only beginning to plumb its depths. The political blogs wherein all the latest contoversies are debated are the easiest to find. It doesn't take long to find pornography either. Every time I poke the 'next blog' box there's about a one in five chance a porn site will appear. The rest are Spanish. Sadly, I have never found a blog by that method I thought was worth revisiting.
I'm quite interested in literature, music and science but only a few of the professionally produced sites have caught my interest for more than a few reads.
But now I have The Medieval Sourcebook to turn to whenever I lose interest in the tiresome news of the present, although it's not much easier to figure out what did happen than what is happening. But at least we know the results, and it's always revelatory to me when I listen to the words of someone who was caught up in the events of his day, someone who had no way of knowing how it would all turn out, someone who was involved in the disputes, who had an interest in the results. I always marvel that nobody is interested in these stories.
Here is one, found at random while I was looking for something else. It's from a Chronicle of the Counts of Anjou written about the year 1100. Anjou is the lovely region of France on the lower reaches of the Loire River and its tributaries, an area I cycled through. Somehow or other these Counts ended up as kings of England, among other things. An anecdote of one Fulk making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem while it was still controlled by the Saracens tells how he was only allowed to visit the Holy Sepulcher if he agreed to piss on the altar. The Saracens, "Knowing him to be a man of quick temper, mocked him, and said he would never get into the tomb he wanted to see unless he were to urinate upon it and upon the holy cross. The prudent man, though unwilling, agreed to this. A ram's bladder was found, cleaned and washed and filled with the best wine and then placed between the count's thighs. Shoeless, he approached the Lord's Sepulchre and let the wine flow forth upon it..."
Still looking for Honorious of Autun I stumbled onto something I was looking for a few months ago. This is a series of letters between wealthy landowners in Roman Gaul written just before the complete collapse of Roman authority and the assumption of power by illiterate and uncultured German war chiefs. What is astonishing about the writer is that the was unaware that history as he knew it was at an end. Rome was done, but that was a concept he didn't grasp. Sidonius was the name of this Roman and he paints an idyllic picture of the countryside around Nimes and the great aquaduct where it crosses the Gardon River- known now as the Pont du Gard. I also cycled through this area- occassionally on a Roman road- and camped right next to the aquaduct for a few days while I explored the vicinity. He is visiting friends. "Their estates march together; their houses are not far apart; and the extent of the intervening ground is just too far for a walk and just too short for a ride..." So far were they from any concern over attacks that he amusedly describes being 'ambushed' by his friends waiting at all approaches for his arrival. "Into this trap we willingly fell, no unwilling prisoners; and our captors instantly made us swear to dismiss every idea of continuing on our journey until a whole week had elapsed..." He goes on to describe the amusements prepared for him, including discussions of philosophy and theology, and tells how he had his servants dig bathing holes for him into which were placed hot stones.. the better to help him recover from excessive consumption of the local wines.
In another letter he describes for his correspondent a meeting he had with a king of the Goths. What impresses me is how ordinary a thing it seems, this crashing down of an ancient civilization, how unheroic, how unremarked. Until a generation or two has come and gone and people realize what has been lost. The king is a man of parts. Not sophisticated, but plain. Not educated but intelligent. And he is a man of action, not especially interested in the effete pleasures of his Roman visitor. Sidonius, thinking himself the clever fellow, relates that in dice games, "I myself am gladly beaten by him when I have a favour to ask..." never thinking how obsequious he has become.
Strange as it may seem, this is how history happens.