A study of Cleopatra D IX: MS I, ff. 5-79. ‘Liber Alani de Ashbourne’.

A book of historical lists, annals and stories from Lichfield Cathedral’s library, written or commenced by Alan of Ashbourne, vicar of Lichfield.

Description.

Vellum, small folio (Ward 198), 75 ff. Written on the recto of the first folio is “Liber Alani de Asshhburne Vicarii Lichf”. According to Brereton’s description of one item in it, that section at least has three columns with 50 lines (with an initial in red). Brereton describes the whole as being “in the same hand throughout, except for a few later additions on columns and pages left blank for the purpose” (vi). The accuracy of this assessment is questionable, as her examination of the remainder of the manuscript is cursory, to the extent that she includes the next two manuscripts in the number of folios she allots to this [*]. However, the error suggests that the hand, and perhaps the layout, of the manuscript are at least superficially uniform throughout.

Contents..

Historical lists and annals, local and universal, all in Latin save one Anglo-Norman romance. Although Des Grantz Geanz, a foundation poem recounting the mythic pre-history of Britain, survives in several manuscripts, this is the only witness to the longer redaction. It has been published by Brereton in a facing-page edition with the shorter redaction. There has been no edition of the remainder of the manuscript.

- 5v-24v: Annals from the beginning of the world to 1291 (or possibly 1292). Latin, 20 ff..

- 25r-37v: A list of the popes from St Peter to John XXII (Jacques Duèze, papacy 1316-1334), until 1317 according to Planta’s catalogue. Presumably this is an a quo date calculated on the ascension date of the last pontiff listed. Latin, 13 ff.

- 38r-69r: Annals of the deeds of the English, from the death of Hengist to 1377. In at least two different hands. Neither Ward nor Brereton mentions at which year the hands change, or how much space the first leaves for subsequent additions. Latin, 32 ff.

- 70r-71r: Des Grantz Geanz, long redaction (281 octosyllabic couplets). Anglo-Norman, 2 ff. At the foot of the first page is a jotting, presumably intended for a decorative header to the poem:.

Incipit tractatus de terra Anglie a quibus inhabitabatur in principio ante aduentum bruti . que terra primo vocabatur Albion . et postea a bruto britannia. Deinde Anglia nuncupata est. (qtd. in Ward 198).

The first four lines are:.

Ci put hom saver comen.

et quant et de quele gen.

Les grants geans primes vindren.

et Engleterre primes tindrent.

(ibid)

- 72r-74r: A list of the Archbishops of Canterbury, from Augustine to the investiture of John of Stratford (1333). Latin, 3 ff.

- 74r-79: A history of the bishopric of Coventry and Lichfield to 1347, with additions in a later hand to 1388. Latin, 5ff.

The selection and arrangement of the contents suggests a careful overall design. There is a balance between dry lists and narrative chronicles, and the field of vision narrows steadily from the universal to the national to the local. Given this level of organisational integrity, the apparently incongruous presence of an Anglo-Norman mythic romance in the midst of Latin prose histories provides a picturesque example of the flexibility of mediaeval understandings of genre..

Date, Origin and Authorship.

The library of Lichfield Cathedral (Ker, Medieval Libraries 115), c. 1323-1334 with later additions, Alan of Ashbourne and others..

Brereton dates the manuscript “with certainty” (vi) between the deaths of Simon of Mepham (1333) and Alan of Ashbourne (1334), on the grounds that the book records the death of one and is written by the other. This precision, however, rests on the assumptions that the book was written (or compiled) within the space of one year, and that it is primarily or exclusively the work of Alan of Ashbourne’s own hand. The first assumption is undermined by the book’s length, as well as Brereton’s own observation that the manuscript “consists of historical miscellanea and is written in the same hand throughout, except for a few later additions on columns and pages left blank for the purpose” (vi). This suggests that it was intended to function as a continuing record. If so, the vicar could have initiated it as a project any number of years before, rather than writing cover to cover within the space of a year. Greenslade asserts, based on internal evidence, that he began it in 1323, the year after his appointment at Lichfield (8).

The communal function implied by the long-term nature of the layout also complicates Brereton’s second assumption: although the majority of the work of compilation does seem to fall before his death, the book may have been initiated or directed by the vicar, without being written by his hand..

The addition of later entries up to 1388 and the inclusion (in transcription) of at least two works composed earlier (Des Grantz Geanz and the annals of the world) further complicate notions of any hypothetical authorship or definite date of composition. In particular, it is suggestive that the early annals end in the year 1291 or 1292. In 1291, a fire broke out in the Lichfield complex severe enough to burn at least the monastery to the ground (Knowles & Hadcock 192). Might the author have died in this fire, or stopped writing in the upheaval of rebuilding and recovery? The coincidence of dates suggests that while Alan of Ashbourne was compiling his own history of the bishopric, he collected or directed the collection of several other historical documents already belonging to Lichfield Cathedral – possibly including a (fire-damaged?) manuscript of a short chronicle written within fading living memory. The unfinished incipit the first page of Des Grantz Geanz strengthens the impression of a haphazard work in a constant state of composition, never polished and final.

His work appears to have been adopted on his death by his immediate community, enough to be referred to and intermittently updated for the next half century. By 1390, the manuscript seems to have fallen out of use as a record, superseded, forgotten or simply filled, and updates ceased..

The manuscript as a whole, with a history more accessible than most small-scale monastic chronicles can boast, provides valuable glimpses of possible motivations behind such an undertaking. Local and personal motivations sit side-by-side with a broader sense of national purpose. For example, if the first item (annals of the world) was written locally, as seems reasonable, a factor in the vicar’s decision to include it could well have been neighbourly reverence for the memory of its author and his not inconsiderable undertaking, from a man engaged in one no less ambitious. On the other hand, its contents demonstrate an anxiety to set local concerns, to which the majority of his efforts will be dedicated, in a universal context. Similarly, his local history and history of England suggests that he was among the many across England who felt prompted by the civil and natural disturbances of the 1320s to impose some order on events and dignify them with the name of history.

Later provenance and position within codex.

The picture is complicated around 1450 by Thomas Chesterfield, prebendary of Tervin in Lichfield Cathedral, who made a copy of Alan of Ashbourne’s chronicle and donated it to Lichfield Cathedral. It survives as MS Bodleian 956 pp. 113-229, and the inscription of the donor’s name on this copy led to the attribution of the authorship of both manuscripts to him in subsequent centuries (Greenslade 8-9 & notes; cf. Planta). The presence of two copies of the collection at Lichfield complicates their subsequent history.

The Franciscan house at Lichfield was dissolved in 1538, though other parts of the Lichfield establishment remained, including the cathedral, which is still in use today (Knowles & Hadcock 192). One of the two manuscripts, however, seems to have remained in the library of Lichfield Cathedral, as it was consulted there by William Whitelocke in the composition of his own history of Lichfield Cathedral in the late 1560s (Kettle, “Whitelocke”). This was probably the Chesterfield manuscript, as Whitelocke attributes the chronicle to him. The absence of both from the catalogue compiled by Patrick Young c. 1622 (Ker, “Young’s catalogue” 152 &c) suggests that both passed into the hands of a private collector at some time after 1670. Perhaps Whitelocke, “[o]ne of the few clergymen of the period to make a significant contribution to antiquarian studies” (Kettle, “Whitelocke”), felt it would be no disloyalty to his cathedral to allow such a manuscript to pass into the burgeoning library of some fellow antiquarian; or possibly the private circulation of his histories piqued someone’s interest in his source. The original Liber may also have been retired from the cathedral library prior to the dissolution, and fallen into private hands then.

Whether directly or through several intervening libraries, it was in Cotton’s hands by 1608, when he loaned it to Archbishop Bancroft (Tite 44-45). The loan entry reads only “Lichfield chronicle”, suggesting that at this time the manuscript was still circulating independently.

As for Chesterfield’s manuscript, this may be the one referred to in a note written c. 1617 in Bodleian Twyne 22 as the property of Thomas Allen (Tite 215). As Cotton indisputably possessed the original manuscript by that date, and had probably already bound it into the existing codex, Allen’s may very well have been the fifteenth-century copy – although it is also possible that he owned one of the manuscripts of Whitelocke’s adaptation.

Lacunae and potential.

- Basic codicological details and paleographical details are lacking, together with information about the contents of each section.

- As noticed above, this manuscript contains the sole surviving witness to the long redaction of Des Grantz Geanz. The second redaction, more than a hundred lines shorter, first appears in 1333, leading Brereton to suggest that this manuscript may be the source from which the second was abridged (vi). The lack of evidence regarding the origin of those manuscripts makes speculation somewhat futile, although it seems safe to say that both are evidence of an increased interest in this poem from the late 1320s onwards. If this is the case, judging only by the surviving manuscripts (which may not be representative), Lichfield Cathedral seems to have been a little ahead of the literary fashion.

- Many of the suggestions made above rest on the history of Lichfield from 1290 until Alan of Ashbourne’s death, particularly the local writing culture and the effects of the fire. For these, the chronicle itself may well be the best source we have, if it were available..

- The irregular number of folios – 75 does not divide easily into any set of regular quires – may suggest the addition or removal of folios or leaves after the primary stage of assembly. An examination of the manuscript could potentially confirm or deny this, as well as giving some indication of where changes may have taken place, potentially informing our understanding of how the vicars of Lichfield understood and interacted with their book as a historical document.

Cited.

Brereton, Georgine E. (ed). Des grantz geanz: An Anglo-Norman poem. Oxford: Medium Ævum 1937.

Greenslade, M. W. The Staffordshire Historians. Staffordshire Record Society, fourth series, 11 (1982).

Kettle, Ann J. “Whitelocke, William (c. 1520-1584).” Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. Oxford UP, 2004. [http://www.oxforddnb.com.proxy.bib.uottawa.ca/view/article/29318, accessed 03 Dec 2009].

Ker, Neil R. Medieval Libraries of Great Britain: A List of Surviving Books. London: Royal Historical Society, 1964.

--- (ed). “Patrick Young’s catalogue of the manuscripts of Lichfield Cathedral”, Medieval and Renaissance Studies 2 (1950): 151-168.

Knowles, David & R. Neville Hadcock. Medieval Religious Houses: England and Wales. London: Longmans, Green & Co, 1953.

Planta, Joseph. Catalogue of the manuscripts in the Cottonian Library deposited in the British Museum. The British Museum: Department of Manuscripts. London: Hansard, 1802.

Tite, Colin. The Early Records of Sir Robert Cotton’s Library: Formation, Cataloguing, Use. The British Library. Bury St Edmund’s: St Edmundsbury Press, 2003.

Ward, H. L. D. Catalogue of Romances in the Department of Manuscripts in the British Museum. London: British Museum, 1962.

The Earl of Kent's confession

This is my translation of the Anglo-Norman text of the Earl of Kent's confession, taken from the appendix to E. M. Thompson's edition of Murimuth (London: Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1889). He prints it there because it appears so in just one of the manuscripts of the chronicle - I believe it's also printed in Latin in Walsingham's Historia Anglicana (Rolls Series, 1863) ii 351, but I haven't verified this, and am not sure what the relationship is between the two versions.

For those who don't know, or do know and quite understandably quite keep the events of these few years straight, here's a brief summary:

- Isabella, queen of England, invaded England to depose her husband Edward II, with the help of her lover Roger Mortimer and Edward's brother Edmund, earl of Kent.

- Having deposed Edward II, they set up his son, a rather young Edward III, in his place. Isabella and Mortimer proceeded to have a party.

- Not long after, Edward II apparently died in captivity at Berkeley Castle. This was terribly unfortunate, and suspiciously convenient, especially for Mortimer. Even more conveniently, no one actually seems to have seen him dead. Anyway, he vanished.

- People proceeded to become more discontented with Isabella and Mortimer's rule.

- Suddenly, the Earl of Kent and a good number of other rather prominent people, as well as people who were rather likely to be in the know, were arrested/accused/looked at funny for trying to rescue the officially dead former king from durance vile in Corfe. Note that one of the men listed below, Sir John Pecche, was apparently the steward in charge of the castle in question, and therefore rather likely to know who was locked up in his charge.

- Despite this, they were naturally all just being terrible malicious liars who were out to upset the established order and oust their true king Morti- er - Edward III, and so many of them, including Kent, lost their heads. Others, according to proof and position, were exiled, fined, or just looked at funny for a while.

- Not long after this, Edward III decided he'd had enough of being a figurehead for a man who liked to do things like stage expensive tournaments in which he dressed up as King Arthur while asserting that he had no designs on the throne and had Edward's uncle executed for trying to rescue his father, had Mortimer executed and his mother politely retired, and took over ruling properly.

- The definitely-not-still-alive Edward II, meanwhile, wandered over to Italy where he spent the rest of his days pottering quietly about the gardens in a nice little monastery, and possibly digging ditches and clipping hedges, just like he'd always wanted to.


Alianore, over at her Edward II blog, made a series of posts on Kent's conspiracy, in which she untangled the characters and sequence of events beautifully: parts one, two, three and four.

The Anglo-Norman is below the translation, verbatim as published in Thompson's edition, if anyone wants to cite it - or disagree with me, of course!

-------

Please note: I have no qualifications in Anglo-Norman, or in fact in any form of French. The following translation is intended as a fun exercise, not a rigorous scholarly undertaking, and accuracy and finesse are in no way guaranteed.

This statement was given before Robert Howel, crowner of the king’s household, and afterward before the barons and peers of the realm, at Winchester, on the sixteenth day of March in the fourth year*:

Let it be known that E[dmund] Earl of Kent admits that the pope charged him, on his blessing, to bend all his pains and diligence to deliver E[dward] his brother, sometime* king of England, promising to cover his costs.

And he says that a friar preacher of a London convent came to him in Kensington, near London, and told him that he had raised the devil, who had told him most assuredly that E[dward] his brother, sometime king of England, was alive.*

And he says that the Archbishop of York sent to him a chaplain, Sir Aleyn, who bore a letter of credence reading thus: that he would give him for the deliverance of his brother 5000 pounds and more, so much as he had and could supply.

And he says that Sir Ingelram Berenger spoke to him in London on behalf of Sir William la Zouche, saying that he would do all in his power for his brother’s deliverance.

And he says that Sir William de Cliff came to him with the same message, by this token: that they rode together between Woking and Guildford, and he said that he avoided the town of Guildford because his niece Despenser* was there in that town; and that same Sir William spoke to him of the alliance between Richard, the son the Earl of Arundel, and his daughter *, and also said that it would be the greatest honour that ever befell him, and that he would aid him as far as he could to achieve these things.

And he says that the same William came to him on behalf of Hugh Despenser*, to say that he would be well pleased to be with him; because he said that he would be sure of accomplishing the deliverance within a little time.

And he says that Sir William de Derham, clerk of his letters, and Brother Thomas Bromfeld were those who most aided and urged him to undertake these things.

And he says that Sir Robert Taunton brought him word of these things on behalf of the Archbishop of York, saying that he had ready 5000 pounds to answer his needs in the undertaking, from the coffers of Sir Hugh Despenser.

And he says that the same Sir Robert and two friar preachers who are out of their order, the one named Edmund Savage and the other John, were the intermediaries of this affair.

And he says that Sir Fulk Fitzwarrene came to him at Westminster to pray and urge him to undertake this business, emboldening him in these things, and told him that it would be the greatest honour that ever befell him, and that he would give body, heart and all he could to help him.

And he said that Sir Ingeram Berenger came to him on behalf of Sir John Pecche, being in accord with that man, to say that he would give body, heart and all he could.

And he says that Sir Henry Beaumont and Sir Thomas Roscelyn spoke to him in Paris*, in the chambers of the Duke of Brabant, saying that they were prepared to come to England to assist in this venture; and that they urged him on to this end; and that they made shore near Scotland, with the aid of Donald of Mar, who was prepared to aid them to achieve these ends so far as he could. But they arrived too late.

And he says that Sir Richard Pontefract, confessor to Lady de Vescy, came to him on this business at the coronation at Kensington, and then at Arundel, on behalf of the Archbishop of York.

And he says that a monk of Quar and John Comminges, his cousin, had furnished a ship, a barge and a boat to carry his brother to his castle of Arundel, and thence wherever he would. And he says that all this matter had been revealed to Sir E. de Monchiver and George Percy.

And he says that the letters which he had sent to Sir Bugues de Bayeux and to John Deveril, sealed with his seal, that he did send – and that there was also one letter written in his wife’s hand.

And he says that Ingelram Berenger, Malcolm Musard and John Cumming had laboured and bent their backs to do these things.

And he says that Sir Ingelram Berenger came to him at Arundel, in his chambers above the chapel, and said that the bishop of London would aid him so much as was in his power in the deliverance of his brother.

And all these things he admits as true, and confesses himself guilty, that he has wrongly set himself to the unmaking of his lord king and his crown, by the advice of those aforesaid; and he wholly delivers himself to the will of that king, to come barefoot to London, in his shirt, or to whatsoever place the king shall name, with a rope about his neck to London, or whatsoever place the king may name, to do with him as he please.

-------

Ceste reconissance fuit faite devant Robert Houel, coruner del hostel le roi, et puis devant le grantz et piers de la terre, a Wyncestre, le xvj. jour de Marcz lan quarte: - Cest a saver, qe E. counte de Kent conust qe le apostoille ly charga, sour sa beneizon, qil meist sa peine et sa diligence deliverer E. soun frere, jadis roi Dengleterre, et qil a ceo trovereit ses costages. Et dit qe un frere prechour du covent de Loundres vint a ly, a Kenssingtone juxte Loundres, et ly dit qil avoit leve le deable, qe li dit serteinement qe E. soun frere, jadis roi Dengleterre, fut en vie. Et dit qe le ercevesqe de Everwik ly manda per un chapeleyn, syr Aleyn, une lettre de credence, et fut la credence tiele: qil ly eidroyt a la deliverance soun frere de v. mille livres et outre de quant qil aveit et quant qil poreit reindre. Et dit qe sire Ingeram Berenger dist a ly a Loundres de par sire William de la Souche qil mettroit quant qil porreit a la deliverance soun frere. Et dit qe sire William de Clif vint a li en mesme le message, par celes enseignes qils chivacherent ensemble entre Wokkingge et Gildeforde, et li dist qil eschuast la vile de Gildeforde par la reson de sa nece la Despenser qe fust em mesme la vile de Gildeforde; et mesme sely sire William ly parla de lalyance entre le fitz Richard, counte de Arundel, et sa filie, et dist outre qe ceo serrent le plus grant honur qe unqes ly avynt, et qil ly aidereit en tant com il poeit a ceste chose faire. Et dit qe mesme sely sire Wiliam vint a ly de par Hugues le Despenser, qe ly dit qil serroit bien seant qil fut ovesqe ly; kar il dit qe il seroit sour de la deliverance en bref temps. Et dit, qe sire William de Derham, clerk de ses lettres, et frere Thomas de Brounfelde furent ceux qe plus ly abetterent et enticerent a cestes choses susdite faire. Et dit qe sire Robert de Tauntone de par le ercevesqe de Evirwik eu message de ces choses avantdites et li dit qe il avoit prest v. mille livres a cele besoigne susdite par faire, et ceo de largent sire Hugues le Despenser. Et dit qe mesme sely sire Robert et deus freres prechours qe sunt hors de lour ordre, des quex lun se fait apeller Edmoun Savage, et lautre Johan, furent les brokours de ceste bosoigne. Et dit qe sire Fouke le fitz Waryn vint a ly a Westmonstre et ly pria et ly entica de ceste chose comencer, et ly enbaudi a cestes choses faire, et ly dit qe ceo serroit le plus grant hunur qe unqes ly avynt, et ly dit qil ly aideroit ou corps, quer, et quant qil avoit. Et dit qe monsire Ingeram Berenger vynt a ly de par sire Johan Pecche, qe fut de cele covyne, et a ceo mettreit cors, et quor, et quant qil avoit. Et dit qe sire Henry Bemound et sire Thomas Roscelyn parlerent a ly en Parys, en la chaumbre le Duk Braban, qil fusent prest de venir en Engleterre en aeide de cestes avantdites; et qils ly enticerent de cestes choses faire; et qil ariveroient devers les parties de Escoce, par abet de Donalde de Maar, qe il serroit en aeide de eux, a celes choses maintenir, et quant qil poeit. Mes le temps de lour venue est passe. Et dit, qe sire Richard de Pountfreyt, confessour la dame de Vescy, vynt a ly a Kensingtone, al corounement, et puis a Arundel, de par le ercevesqe de Everwike, pur cestes choses avantditz. Et dit, qe un moigne de Quarrer et Johan Cymmygs, soun cosyn, avoient aparaille une nyef, une barge, une batel, a menir soun frere et ly a soun chastel de Arundel et dilloqes la ou homme ust ordine. Et dit qe de cestes choses avantdites il soi descovereit a sire E. de Mounchiver et a Jorge de Percy. Et dit qe les lettres quelx il ad envoie a sire Buges de Baiouse et a Johan Devroillie, enselez de soun seal, qil les envoia – qe la une lettre fut enscripte de la meyn sa femme. Et dit qe Ingeram Berenger, Maucelym Musarde et Johan Cymmynge travaillerent et firent lour peine a cestes choses faire. Et dit qe sire Ingeram Berenger vynt a ly, a Arundel, en sa chaumbre a mount la chapele, et dit qe le evesqe de Loundres ly aideroit a la deliverance soun frere de quant qil avoit. Et cestes choses il conust estre vereies, et se rent coupable qil se ad malveisement porte en defesance de soun seignor lige et de sa corune, par abet de ces avantdit; et se met de tut a la volunte le roi, de venir nu pe, en sa chemise, a Loundres ou a ceste vile, ou par la ou le roi voudra ordiner, ou une corde entour soun col, de faire de ly ceo qe ly plerra.

Lingua latina in bucca... libri?

Latin isn't a real language. No, really. No language is a real language unless babies can pick it up. If it has to be consciously learned it's a code, no matter how sophisticated.

And this was surely even more true in the Middle Ages. We have a country that is, overall, tri-lingual: Middle English, Anglo-Norman and Latin. Out of these, the concept of spelling only seems to apply to Latin. And I just don't understand that. Having consistent spelling, with maybe a few errors, irregularities or regional variants, I understand. Considering spelling irrelevant and variable, I also understand. I do not understand how you manage to speak and write two or three different languages, and yet consider consistency in spelling important only for one of them. Granted, Latin isn't entirely consistent - one might contract 'occupaverunt' to 'occuparunt', or waver in how one wants to notate -oe- - and the vernaculars weren't entirely inconsistent, but overall it still bemuses me how the human brain can preserve such a distinction in their attitude to language.

This post was mostly prompted by a certain entry in the Anglo-Norman Online Dictionary, which is, if a little excessive, not atypical. I think this would be a good moment to quote it:

iluec, iluc, ilucs, ilueches, ilueckes, iluek, ilueke, iluekes, ilueks, ilueques, iluesques, iluk, iluke, ilukes, iluks, ilunqes, iluoc, iluoqes, iluque, iluques, ilux; elec, eleckes, elekes, eleuc, elluc, eloc, eloec, eloques, eloek, eluec, elukes; ilec, ileches, ilecqes, ilecques, ilek, ileke, ilekes, ileks, ileoc, ileoches, ileok, ileoke, ileokes, ileoks, ileoqe, ileoqes, ileoqs, ileoques, ileoskes, ileosques, ileqe, ileqes, ileqs, ileque, ileques, ilesqes, ilesques, ileuc, ileuk, ileuke, ileukes, ileuks, ileuqe, ileuqes, ileuques, ilex; illaoques; illec, illecqe, illecqes, illecques, illecqz, illecs, illecus, illeekes, illek, illekes, illeocqes, illeocques, illeoke, illeokes, illeoq, illeoqe, illeoqes, illeoqez, illeoqs, illeoque, illeoques, illeoquez, illeosqe, illeosqes, illeosqs, illeosque, illeosques, illeouqes, illeouqs, illeq, illeqe, illeqes, illeqoes, illeqs, illeque, illeques, illequez, illesqes, illesques, illeuc, illeucques, illeucus, illeuke, illeukes, illeuqes, illeuqs, illeuque, illeuques, illeuquez, illeusqe, illeusqes, illeusqs, illoc, illock, illocqes, illocques, illoec, illoek, illoeke, illoekes, illoeks, illoeq, illoeqe, illoeqes, illoeqez, illoeqies, illoeqs, illoeque, illoeques, illoequs, illoeqz, illoesks, illoesqes, illoesques, illok, illoke, illokes, illoks, illoq, illoqe, illoqes, illoqs, illoque, illoques, illoqus, illosqes, illosques, illouke, illoukes, illouqes, illouqs, illouque, illouques, illouquez, illousques, illuc, illucque, illucs, illuec, illuecqes, illuecques, illuekes, illueq, illeuqe, illueqes, illueques, illuesqes, illuesqs, illuesques, illuk, illuke, illukes, illukis, illuks, illuoqes, illuoqs, illuqe, illuqes, illuqs, illuques, illuqes, illusques, illux; iloc, iloces, iloche, iloches, ilocq, ilocqes, ilocs, iloec, iloeces, iloeches, iloecques, iloek, iloeke, ilokes, iloeqe, iloeqes, iloeqs, iloeque, iloeques, iloesqes, ilok, iloke, ilokes, ilokis, iloks, iloqe, iloqes, iloqs, iloque, iloques, ilouc, ilouke, ilouqes; ylec, ylecques, ylekes, yleok, yleokes, yleoqe, yleoqes, yleoque, yleqe, yleque, ylesques, yleuk, yllecques, yllekes, ylleoqes, ylloqs, yloc, yloec, yloeques, yloques, yloucus, yloukes, ylueqes, ylueques (hiluk Rot Parl1 i 389; ieluec S Audree 1512; ileu Anc Test (E) 7359; iley Durham i 174; ilioqe Rot Parl1 ii 87; illence (l. illeuce) Negotiations 102; illoik BOZ Cont 100; ilokis ROUGH 1; illoiques Edw Ring 66; illonqes (l. illouqes) Stats i 197 (var.); illonquez (l. illouquez) Readings 215; illovecques (l. illouecqes) Foedera iii 488; illus Rot Parl1 iii 91; iluekas Becket 4621 (var.); iluch Anecdota 13; ylooques Art 852)
adv. 1 (local) there, in that place; (local) (motion) there, to that place 2 (temporal) then; then, in that case;

Honestly. Did court scribes hold inter-county tournaments to see who could come up with the most obscure new ways to spell it? All that copying work must have got pretty boring, after all.

So, my conclusion is that the initial question rests on a false assumption. Latin and the vernacular(s) did not occupy the same space in most people's minds, and so they need not match in their rules. Perhaps Latin was learned from the page and largely stayed on the page, while written Anglo-Norman and English were considered a transcript of speech, rather than absolutes in themselves. Latin is a set of rules and signs, almost entirely self-referential: the vernaculars grow and change and steal and adapt. Latin was an internationally recognised code and had to remain consistent in order to BE Latin, but the vernaculars belong in the mouth of each speaker.

And, because I am worse than a dog with a bone[1]: see? Not a real language.


[1] I've yet to see a dog pay any attention to a bone for more than an hour tops. Solace buries hers within five minutes then runs around stealing the other dogs' and burying those.


Bonus points to anyone who recognises the phrase mangled in the title.

Anglo-Norman petitions #9: J. C. to William Milton, Archdeacon of Buckingham

Translation of a petition from one J. C. of Croydon to William Milton, asking for his help to redress and call a halt to a certain nasty habit belonging to the local bailiff representing the area's feudal lord, the Archbishop of Canterbury. This is not the William Milton who was Archbishop of York during the latter part of Edward II's reign; this Milton was the Archdeacon of Buckingham from 1403 until his death in 1424[1]; the editor here just dates the petition "After 1406", without explanation. According to the editor's note, Milton was also registrar to the Archbishop of Canterbury, which explains why he is the recipient of the letter. Presumably J. C. can't write to the Archbishop directly because, if he were to do so, it would have to pass through the bailiff in question.

Please note: I have no qualifications in Anglo-Norman, or in fact in any form of French. The following translation is intended as a fun exercise, not a rigorous scholarly undertaking, and accuracy and finesse are in no way guaranteed.

Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions XXVI, p 27: J. C. to William Milton.
Or, How the Feudal System Will Fail You When You Need It.

To his most honourable, most wise and discreet[2] lord, Master William Milton, archdeacon of Buckingham, a poor[3] man, J. C. of Croydon, tenant to my most honourable lord the Archbishop of Canterbury, humbly entreats that, as in the month of August last gone, Margery, the wife of the said supplicant, was walking to oversee his[4] servants at work in the fields, there came J. Piers, the junior bailiff of my said lord in Canterbury, and by force and coercion there in the field he conquered the said Margery and shamefully overcame her and carnally defiled her contrary to her will, and many times afterwards the said J. has lain in ambush by diverse roads and paths to do carnal and shameful villainy to the said Margery. And also in the meantime when your said supplicant had gone out of town about his business, the same J., perceiving this, many times came and entered the house of the said supplicant and by force overcame and carnally defiled the said Margery, as can be well and truthfully proven against him by many worthy and discreet[5] people of Croydon, to the lasting detriment of the said supplicant and of his said wife, as well as other damage to their names and honour. For which reasons, may it please you that in your most wise counsel you make relation of this loathsome matter to my said most honourable lord and to lend your good help to such end that a due remedy may be ordained and made, as required by justice. For God and in the name of charity.

Original text from Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions from All Souls MS. 182, ed. M. D. Legge, Anglo-Norman Texts 3 (Oxford: Anglo-Norman Text Society, 1941). 27.

I thought I had rather a strong stomach, but working on this made for a very unpleasant afternoon's. At least she seems to have a relatively supportive husband. Though it hardly makes up for being assaulted all over the town and in her own house. I suppose if there are household servants there, they can't really stop him, because he is the Archbishop's bailiff. And they can't appeal directly to the Archbishop. Because he is the Archbishop's bailiff.

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[1] According to the list of Buckingham's archdeacons held at http://www.british-history.ac.uk/report.aspx?compid=32598.

[2] “discret”, which might, of course, mean simple “wise” or “discerning”. But it isn't a word I've encountered in these petitions before - “sage” is usual, and is the word I just translated as “wise” here, and, given the nature of the situation, I don't think it's going too far to suppose that J. C. would want discretion to be a quality Milton bears in mind when reading this.

[3] As elsewhere, 'poor' here clearly isn't literal - the man can speak and write French, or hire someone to do it for him, and has servants working in the fields. Calling oneself poor seems to be as much part of the form as opening with elaborate flattery of the recipient and referring to oneself in the third person, and I can think of several reasons for it off the top of my head: poverty as a spiritual attribute, extreme subjugation by comparison with the recipient, simple adherence to form, etc, any or all of which may be present in the pen of any one petitioner. In a case like this, it's tempting to imagine that he is also referring to his own emotional state, but that may be reaching a little too far beyond formal words.

[4] Or, possibly, her.

[5] In this case, “discretz” may simply mean “of good judgement”, with the word choice informed by his earlier use of “discret”.

Anglo-Norman petitions #8: The Isle of Wight to the king

Translation of a petition from the Isle of Wight to the king (Richard II or Henry IV), asking to be excused from the tenths and fifteenths that are intended to fund the war against France in order that they may fortify their island against the constant French raids, and saying that, without those funds, the island will have to be evacuated.

Please note: I have no qualifications in Anglo-Norman, or in fact in any form of French. The following translation is intended as a fun exercise, not a rigorous scholarly undertaking, and accuracy and finesse are in no way guaranteed.

Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions XX, p 21: The Isle of Wight to the King.

To the most redoubtable and gracious lord, our lord the king, the poor citizens both spiritual and temporal of the Isle of Wight humbly beg that you may wish to consider, in your benign grace, the great hardship and costs that they have borne before these times and which they still bear from day to day because of the war against the enemies France and Brittany, for which reason they have great fear for their lives and livelihoods, and they mean to remove from the said Isle and to live on this side of the sea if no remedy may be found quickly for the said Isle, and therefore may it please your most gracious lordship to grant the said supplicants, in your benign grace, that they may be excused from all manner of tenths and fifteenths and all kinds of tallages to the said Isle, paid or yet to pay, to you or your heirs, throughout the aforesaid war, in order that the said supplicants may make arrangements to repel the landing of the enemy here, or to make fortifications against said landing at their own costs. For God, and in the name of charity.

Original text from Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions from All Souls MS. 182, ed. M. D. Legge, Anglo-Norman Texts 3 (Oxford: Anglo-Norman Text Society, 1941). 21.

This is actually surprisingly hard to date, because of the Isle of Wight's habit of being attacked by the French whenever the latter had a few spare hours because their wives weren't expecting them home for tea. A quick search fails to turn up any references to this petition, or any other requests for / grants of funds, though there is refence in 1375 to the Crown threatening to confiscate the lands of nobles fleeing the raids, which makes a plausible background to this threat to evacuate.

That's quite a cunning little clause, asking to be excused from all war taxes under the king and his heirs for so long as the war with France may last. Do you think someone had tipped them that this was to go down in history as the Hundred Years War? Or that it would be probably possible to argue for the rest of recorded history that 'the aforementioned war' had never, in fact, ended?

Anglo-Norman petitions #7: Margery to the Archbishop of Canterbury

Translation of a petition from a London woman called Margery to the Archbishop of Canterbury, possibly Arundel. She says that her husband believes, or feigns to believe, that she was pre-contracted to another man before marrying him, and is attempting to annul their marriage.

Please note: I have no qualifications in Anglo-Norman, or in fact in any form of French. The following translation is intended as a fun exercise, not a rigorous scholarly undertaking, and accuracy and finesse are in no way guaranteed.

Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions XL, p 40: Margery to the Archbishop of Canterbury.

To the most reverend father in God and her most gracious lord, Margery, wife of W.G. of London, humbly supplicates that, having wedded the said W. and lived with him in legal matrimony for four years, and not having been contracted to any other man before the nuptials were solemnised between them, the said W., thinking[1] falsely to be separated from the said supplicant by means of a false conspiracy between him and[2] one Robert C., clerk, has feigned a false[3] charge in the court of the most reverend father in God the Bishop of London, and there has pronounced to the said supplicant that she must have made a precontract with another man, when the said supplicant has no knowledge of any such man on this earth, and by means of this charge the said W. has pressed an annulment[4] between himself and the said supplicant, which annulment, through the false supposings[5] of the said Robert, will be carried out, if no solution may be found by your lordship, and so[6] may it please your most noble paternity, for the salvation of W.'s soul, to ordain remedy in this case. For God and in the name of charity.


Original text from Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions from All Souls MS. 182, ed. M. D. Legge, Anglo-Norman Texts 3 (Oxford: Anglo-Norman Text Society, 1941). 40.

Firstly: please father, save my marriage, for the sake of my bastard of a husband's soul? This lass needs to go have a serious chat with Maude about taking charge of her own life.

Secondly: ymagenant, ymaginacions. This word appears twice, and makes the task of determining just what her husband is about rather a slippery one. The first occurrence is when we are told that W. is ymagenant fauxment d'estre departi de [Margery]... par faulx conspiracie par entre luy et un Robert C. I have translated ymagenant here as thinking, both because it lets me preserve the syntax of the original and because it's a rather neutral word and I wanted to keep discussion of implications out of the text itself. And here she uses it rather neutrally - the moral weight of that phrase is, or seems to be, on fauxment. She could have written creyent for ymagenant, without altering the sense of the phrase - in fact, I'll go out on a limb a little and say that this part reads as if she is trying to excuse her husband and lay the blame on Robert. It's perfectly possible to read ymagenant here as a blameless creyent and faulx in its sense of mistaken, incorrect, erring.

But then we come to the second use of the same word: le quel devors par faulx ymaginacions de dit Robert serra parforny s'il ne soit remedie. The two words again, faulx and ymaginacions, but here the context changes their reception. My first thought here was imaginations, fantasies, the lies Robert comes up with about her life, but the second, hard on its heels, was machinations. And indeed, on consulting the Anglo-Norman dictionary, I found it notes that "there is semantic and formal overlap and/or confusion between imaginer and machiner", defining imaginer as

v. a. 1. to imagine, envisage, create a mental image of; to imagine, conceive, think up 2. to invent, make up; to devise, contrive 3. to plot, scheme (cf. machiner);
v.n. 1. to imagine, envisage, create a mental image 2. to assume, think 3. to make plans;

So, if Margery is (consciously or otherwise) exploiting the ambiguity inherent in this word, this darkens her fau[l]xs to their more negative moral interpretations: wicked or sinful, rather than mistaken. This casts a different light back on what she was thinking when she wrote that first ymagenant, even if she meant to avoid laying the blame on her husband: paranoia, anger that she can't allow herself to feel properly, vulnerability, witnessing a conspiracy that she can neither expose nor withstand? She is concerned to keep her husband from falling into mortal sin, begging the Archbishop to save his soul, but even if she seems to try to keep most of her fau[l]xs from pointing directly at her husband, I think in her eyes his moral state is already fairly questionable. Or perhaps she wavers between seeing him as victim and agent.

This man does not make a good head, Margery. Use your own.



[1] 'Ymagenant' - but see note above.

[2] 'E[s]t' - I'm not sure why the editor has added that 's', as in context it can't be a verb, and while 'et' (in the sense of 'and') is sometimes spelt with an 's', 'et' is more common.

[3] Yes, she really does use 'fau[l]x' three times in a row. And while the double negative of ad feyné une faulx cause sounds clumsy in English, I'm leaving it in there to preserve the sense of vehemence or desperation that comes with the lady protesting too much.

[4] 'Devors', but he seems to be seeking to declare the marriage invalid altogether on the grounds of an earlier contract, not to be granted what we would call a divorce.

[5] 'Ymaginacions' - again, see note above.

[6] While 'and so' is necessary to make the grammar scan in English, it doesn't appear in the French. Her plese a vostre tresnoble paternitee... ordeigner remedie should, according to the usual form of these petitions, refer back to her opening que come ele ad esté espousé; but that has already been closed long ago, with ore le dit W... ad feyné. Technically, I think this is a grammatical flaw (unless I'm missing something); but to me, looking back at the other petitions, it seems more that the patterns within this form are becoming figures of their own. You open with supplie que, come... and close with plese a vous, and in the middle you tell a dramatic and poignant story in one long, involved sentence, but by the time you reach plese a vous you've forgotten what you're referring back to, and the form stands on its own.

Anglo-Norman petitions #6: J. de G. and others to Henry IV

Translation of a petition to Henry IV. J. de G., the gentles and commons of W., T. and K. ask pardon for their part in a recent uprising and declare themselves his faithful subject.

Please note: I have no qualifications in Anglo-Norman, or in fact in any form of French. The following translation is intended as a fun exercise, not a rigorous scholarly undertaking, and accuracy and finesse are in no way guaranteed.

Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions IX, p 8: J. de G. and others to Henry IV.

To our most high, most mighty and most redoubtable lord, our lord the King: if it be your pleasure, we, J. of G., the gentles and commons of [the counties of][1] W. and T. and certain people of K. represent that, as we are become your loyal subjects and tenants and we have submitted ourselves to your most high and excellent grace and will thus, may it please your most gracious lordship to pardon your said poor and humble gentles and commons of the counties aforesaid our insurrection and rebellious[2] and to accept[3] us along with our lands, goods and holdings and to receive us as loyal men and subjects beholden[4] to you and to no man else, save to our most redoubtable lord the prince, your most gracious son, etc.
Original text from Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions from All Souls MS. 182, ed. M. D. Legge, Anglo-Norman Texts 3 (Oxford: Anglo-Norman Text Society, 1941). 8.

[1] Judging by “the counties aforesaid” below.

[2] Or rebellion - “rebelté” could be either.

[3] “pardonner... et nous acceptee” - I can't find any way to read that except as a scribal error for “accepter”.

[4] “loialx et liegez tenantz a vous” - “loialx et liegez” could be nouns and “tenantz” the adjective, or the other way around: “loyal men and subjects beholden”, or “loyal and feudally bound tenants/subjects”. The phrasing echoes “loyal subjects and tenants” earlier (“loialx lieges et tenantz”).

Anglo-Norman petitions #5: Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury, to Henry IV

Translation of a petition from Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury, to Henry IV, presumably in 1399. Having helped Henry IV overthrow Richard II, who had made him Archbishop of Canterbury in 1397 then exiled him for his association with the Lords Appellant, Arundel writes formally petitioning to be allowed to re-assume his position and the lands and holdings associated with it.

Please note: I have no qualifications in Anglo-Norman, or in fact in any form of French. The following translation is intended as a fun exercise, not a rigorous scholarly undertaking, and accuracy and finesse are in no way guaranteed.

Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions XIX, p 20: Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury, to Henry IV.

To the most excellent and most redoubtable lord, our lord the king, your humble chaplain Thomas Archbishop of Canterbury and primate of all England entreats that[1], the said supplicant being wrongfully impeached of diverse matters by the parliament held at Westminster on the day following the Exaltation of the Holy Cross in the twenty-first year of the reign of Richard the second, lately King of England, and being in addition in his absence and with no defence given sentences to permanent exile from the realm of England, and his temporalities of the said archbishopric having been seized into the hands of the said former king, and all his goods and properties having been declared forfeit against all true law and reason, may it please your royal majesty[2] to consider the matter of the said impeachment and judgement thus wrongfully given in his absence and with no defence given, and to make judgement in this present parliament to reverse the sentence and declare it invalid, to find that he must be restored to his temporalities in every degree with all the issues, commodities and profits of the holdings that accompany them from the day of the said judgement to the day of the present parliament, together with all the goods and strongholds thus against law and reason declared forfeit, as if no judgement had ever been delivered against him. For God, and in the name of charity.

Original text from Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions from All Souls MS. 182, ed. M. D. Legge, Anglo-Norman Texts 3 (Oxford: Anglo-Norman Text Society, 1941). 20.


[1] Isn't that a potent opening, the careful blend of power and reverence? It combines flattery - to a man just risen to new heights, those forms of address must be heady indeed, especially coming from the “Archbishop of Canterbury and primate of all England”, who nevertheless presents himself as “your humble chaplain” - with promise - I am on your side, God is on your side, I can consolidate your position - and just a hint of threat, because if you were to choose not to reinstate this man as is right (and he makes good use of righteous language throughout the rest of the letter) he has enough political clout to possibly bring you down again, not to mention the influence he might have with someone higher up. Richard II flouted Thomas Arundel, and look what happened to him...

[2] “vostre majesté roiale” - I believe it was Henry VIII who first insisted on “Your Majesty” as the formal form of address to the king. Arundel isn't using it here as a formal title, of course, but it stands out as uncommon: most petitions so far have used “hautesse”, “seigneurie”, etc. Perhaps Arundel is laying on the flattery rather thick.

Anglo-Norman petitions #4: J. G. to the Archbishop of Canterbury

Translation of a petition to Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury (1397, 1399-1414): J. G. complains that a woman promised in marriage to him is avoiding solemnising the contract, avoiding a court summons by moving back and forth between two dioceses.

Please note: I have no qualifications in Anglo-Norman, or in fact in any form of French. The following translation is intended as a fun exercise, not a rigorous scholarly undertaking, and accuracy and finesse are in no way guaranteed.

Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions XXXIX, p 40: J. G. to Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury.

To the most holy father in God and my most gracious lord, the Archbishop of Canterbury, J. S. of K, a poor man, humbly entreats that, being contracted to one Maude T. living in Royston to be taken as her husband, and as, with the protection of the prior of R. and other persons acquainted with the said Maude, she has retreated and wishes never to complete the said contract as required by the law of the holy church and good conscience; and as part of the said town of Royston is in the diocese of London and part is in the diocese of Ely, so that when the said Maute is summoned to appear before the law in one diocese she flees into the other diocese, so it appears she will not ever appear before the law in any manner because of the protection aforementioned; out of this, may it please your most holy paternity and gracious lordship to grant the said supplicant a summons to make the said Maude appear before your very person, in order that you may heard openly the said contract and ordain of it due remedy, as the law and good conscience demand. In the name of God and charity.

Original text from Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions from All Souls MS. 182, ed. M. D. Legge, Anglo-Norman Texts 3 (Oxford: Anglo-Norman Text Society, 1941). 29-30.

... Well, good on you, Maude. He sounds like an obnoxious drag. And isn't it odd to think of a time when people moved around so little that the courts didn't have any standard procedure to deal with this sort of situation, and it was left to the plaintiff to go over their heads?

Anglo-Norman petitions #3: J. S. Esquire to the King

Translation of a petition to the king - either Richard II or Henry IV. J. S. Esquire has been imprisoned for six weeks without charge and asks to be brought to trial.

Please note: I have no qualifications in Anglo-Norman, or in fact in any form of French. The following translation is intended as a fun exercise, not a rigorous scholarly undertaking, and accuracy and finesse are in no way guaranteed.

Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions XII, p 10: J. S. Esquire to the King.

Your poor subject J. S. Esquire humbly beseeches[1] that, being suddenly taken by J. Venour, one of the viscounts of London, and placed in custody in your local gaol and being kept there in prison[2], and succeeding in discovering nothing of the reason for his imprisonment save what the said viscount told the said supplicant, that he took him on the order of your gracious self, may it please your most excellent lordship in your most abundant mercy to consider that your said poor subject has been detained there for more than six weeks to the great detriment and ruin of his poor estate[3], and also that the said supplicant is so ill with diverse maladies that the pain will not let him live, and to send for your said supplicant to be brought before your royal person or otherwise before your most wise council to reply as justice and law demand. For God, etc.

Original text from Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions from All Souls MS. 182, ed. M. D. Legge, Anglo-Norman Texts 3 (Oxford: Anglo-Norman Text Society, 1941). 29-30.



[1] The usual elaborate opening forms (“Au tresnoble/treshonouré/tresgracious” etc) are omitted. This and certain other touches give the letter an unpolished quality that make me wonder whether it was written by the prisoner himself, rather than a professional scribe. Given the circumstances, he may not have had access to a clerk.

[2] He does repeat himself rather here: “mys en garde en vostre countré [prison] illoeques et la demoert en prisoun”.

[3] Or possibly condition, health; but he turns to his health next, and “arrerissement et anientiesement” sound to me more like formal terms to be applied to one’s living, business, lands, etc, than to one’s body.

Anglo-Norman petitions #2: Maud Curteys to the Archbishop of Canterbury

Translation of a petition to Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury (1397, 1399-1414): c. 1404, Maud Curteys asks for justice against a man imprisoned on her charge of murdering her son-in-law, saying that he is also indicted for treason against the king.

Please note: I have no qualifications in Anglo-Norman, or in fact in any form of French. The following translation is intended as a fun exercise, not a rigorous scholarly undertaking, and accuracy and finesse are in no way guaranteed.

Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions XXVIII, p 29-30: Maud Curteys to Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury.

To my most honourable, most noble and most gracious lord and most reverend father in God, the Archbishop of Canterbury, primate of all England, your poor and devout petitioner Maud Curteys entreats most humbly and piteously that, one John Moyle the elder being imprisoned at the suit of your said supplicant for the death of one R. A., son[1] of the same supplicant, killed by his felonious contrivance; and the said supplicant having heard that the friends of the said John Moyle have informed you that he is not guilty of the aforementioned death in order to secure your aid in his deliverance, when in truth, most gracious lord, he is of that wholly guilty and the principal cause and contrivor of the deed, as can well be proven, if the testimony of the most worthy people of the county of Cornwall - given chiefly for his indictment - may suffice; may it please[2] your most gracious lordship and most reverent paternity[3] to consider how the said J. M. is also indicted for treason against the person of our most redoubtable lord the King, and then to graciously allow that the common law be permitted to take its course on the said J. M. for the reason aforesaid, as an example to other such men and as a vindication of justice, without aiding him or praying for him... [4] that they may have pity and compassion for the horrible murder of the said R. A., and for the great sorrow this has caused the said supplicant. For God, and in the name of charity.


Original text from Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions from All Souls MS. 182, ed. M. D. Legge, Anglo-Norman Texts 3 (Oxford: Anglo-Norman Text Society, 1941). 29-30.

[1] Other references in the Calendar Patent Rolls to Maud and Thomas Curteys and John Moyle indicate that R. A. was their son-in-law, according to the editor's notes.

[2] "The vehemence of Maud's protestations seem to have carried her away a little: the logical progression of “supplie que (come... come... come...) plese a [vous] considerer”, into which this and most of the other petitions are organised, has been disrupted by a little maze of subordinate clauses in which she pleads her case. The return to “may it please” here is consequently a little disorienting, as its referent is 12 very involved lines overhead. I've tidied up a little in translating, to make the sense flow more clearly with semi-colons and participles, but perhaps it would have been more honest to Maud to have left the tangle as it was. She (or her clerk) is, of course, writing quite capably in a very formalised convention, which does support large numbers of subordinate clauses, but in this case I think her subject matter - understandably! - ran away with her.

[3] “paternitee”: fathership? fatherhood?

[4] A line seems to be omitted. “que plese a [vous]... suffrer que la comune ley puisse courger sur [J. M.] ... en ensample de tielx aultres et en sustenance de droiture sanz luy eider ou pour luy prier eiant pitee et compassion del horrible mourdre du dit R. A...” There is no punctuation between “prier” (to pray) and “eiant” (avoir, 3rd pl pres subj), and even if there were there is still no subject for “eiant”. Possibly Maud intended the “aultres” as the subject, added “et en sustenance de droiture” above the line as an afterthought and forgot to precede “eiant” with “que”, but it's a bit of a stretch. Given the absence of editorial punctuation, or a footnote noticing the problem, I'm going to assume it's either a) me missing something stupidly obvious or b) the editors accidentally omitting a few words, not the mediaeval scribe(s).

Anglo-Norman petitions #1: O. of C. to the king.

Translation of a petition to the king (Richard II or Henry IV): O. of C. complains that a widow whose marriage was promised to him has remarried without licence, and asks that, in compensation, he receive the fine she will have to pay.

Please note: I have no qualifications in Anglo-Norman, or in fact in any form of French. The following translation is intended as a fun exercise, not a rigorous scholarly undertaking, and accuracy and finesse are in no way guaranteed.

Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions V, p 3-4: O. de C. to the King.

To the most excellent and most redoubtable lord, our lord the King, your poor subjet O. of C. humbly supplicates that, as it has pleased your most gracious lordship to write to A., once the wife of J. and now a widow, asking that she would take your said supplicant to be her husband; and as despite this she has taken a husband at her own will without your licence; and as she therefore must[1] pay a fine to you, most gracious lord, may it please your highness, since he[2] may not have the woman, to grant to him the fine that she must pay to you on account of having married without licence. In the name of charity.


Original text from Anglo-Norman Letters and Petitions from All Souls MS. 182, ed. M. D. Legge, Anglo-Norman Texts 3 (Oxford: Anglo-Norman Text Society, 1941). 3.

[1] “ele convient faire un fin ovec vous”: possibly “she has agreed to pay you a fine” instead, but lacking specific indication of her input - and because the rest of the petition implies that legal proceedings have not yet begun - I'm assuming that O. is referring to the usual fine imposed in such situations, rather than an agreement she has reached with authorities.
[2] Ie, your supplicant, me. The petitioners, so far as I've read, refer to themselves exclusively in the third person.

Will translations: Edward I

Today I had sudden impulse to teach myself Anglo-Norman, so I shall translate some mediaeval royal wills, beginning with the first that we have in the vernacular: Edward I.

I’m sure there are translations out there for most of them, but all I have is a facsimile of the 1780 edition[1] complete with long-s and blotches from the printing press. Caveat lector: I don’t speak modern French (though I can read it slowly), never mind middle French or its variants, and I have no dictionary for it. So if you chanced to come here via Google looking for a translation - don’t use this one. Its accuracy is in no way guaranteed!

I sit here at my desk, surrounded by a monolingual Italian dictionary, a bilingual modern French one and the Oxford Latin Dictionary, with the Oxford English Dictionary open in another browser tab. None of these can help much with the real problem words (the verbs too short to have a recognisable stem and whose vowels are unreliable due to conjugation and unstable spelling), but they make hunting down hunches fun!

This is a sample of the French. It’s the easy bit - the opening.

En nun du Pere, du Fitz, e du Seynt Esprit, Amen. Nus Edward, einsne filz au noble Roy d’Engleterre, fesoms nostre testament, en nostre bon sen, e en nostre bone memorie, le Samedis procheyn apres la Pentecouste, e le an de nostre seygnur mil, deu cent, septsaunt secund, en certe manere. En primes, nus divisoms a Deu, e a nostre dame Seinte Marie, e a tuz seyns nostre alme; et nostre cors enseuelir, ou nos esseketurs, ceo est a saver, sire Johan de Bretayne...

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In June 1272, Prince Edward was in Acre on crusade. A Muslim assassin infiltrated the stronghold and stabbed him seriously, possibly with a poisoned dagger - though that may well be a later embellishment, added so that we could have the pretty detail of his wife Eleanor devotedly sucking the poison from the wound. That is, presumably, the occasion on which he dictated this will. Details of wording like “we have had our seal set on this testament” rather than “we have set our seal” may suggest his weakness when this was written, which must have been rather frightening for a man who was so active and vigorous for most of his life. Apparently he never got around to making another will, even when he became king later that year and had a good many more things to “ordiner”. Perhaps it was on his to-do list - right after “subdue those Scots good and proper”.

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In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen. We, Edward, firstborn son of the noble King of England, make our testament, being in sound mind and memory, the first Saturday after Pentecost, in the year of our Lord 1272, in this manner. Firstly, we commit our soul to God, to our lady Saint Mary, and to all the saints; and our body to be buried where our executors, that is to say, sir John of Bretagne, sir William de Valence, sir Roger de Clifford, sir Payn de Chautros, sir Robert Tiletot, sir Otho de Gradisson, Robert Burnett and Anthony Bek, or any of them will have determined. To them we give and grant full power to ordain for the good of our soul, that all our assets, be they movable or not[2], be used in such a manner as to repay our debts, and redress the wrongs that we have done by our own hand or that of our deputies[3], and repay our people for their service[4], in a manner that seems good to them.

And because we know well that our belongings cannot suffice for this, we desire and permit that the abovementioned executors shall have full power, which we grant them as far as we are able, to order and manage all our lands in England, Ireland, Gascony and all our other lands, that they may hear from[5] them in the same manner that we did when they were in our hands, without selling or giving them away, and together with them to hold the guardianship of our children until they should come to their full age, to carry out our testament and grants of charity in England, and then to do what our executors see is best to be done; to do these things, we designate a hundred thousand pounds.

And, after our bequests are made, and our alms-giving carried out, we desire that the revenues of the aforesaid lands be kept for the benefit of our children, and that they be delivered into the hands of the aforesaid executors, until the coming of age of our aforesaid children.

And, if by chance it happen that the our lord the king, our father, should die before the coming of age of our children (which God forbid), we desire that the realm of England, and all the other lands that may pass down to our children, be delivered into the hands of our aforesaid executors, together with our dear father the Archbishop of York[6], and sir Roger, and other upstanding men of the realm, that they may reach an agreement[7] on any affairs that may arise, until the coming of age of our children named above, and that the revenues of the aforementioned lands be gathered and guarded by the hands of our aforementioned executors, and delivered to our children when they are of full age, to their benefit.

And furthermore we desire and ordain that two or more of our executors have the power to hear our accounts and receive[8] from all our bailies, wherever they may be, since our departure from England.

And then, if they cannot prove that they have faithfully rendered each account, and if none of our bailies be dead, let his heirs be bound to render the account for him[9].

Regarding the dowry of our dear wife Eleanor, we desire that she keep in each detail everything that was so designated when we had the chance[10], and if these are not paid to her, we desire that she have everything that right and law will give her, according to the customs and laws of England.

And also we desire that where not all of our executors can go to see to the terms of this our testament, that four or more, in the name of the others, shall have the power for themselves and for the others to fulfil the aforesaid terms.

And to that end, we pray to our holy father the apostle[11], that he may see these terms kept, and enforced, and confirmed; and that he may pray for our dear father, that he may ensure that these things we have named be kept stable and firm across all of his realm and power, to the farthest reaches of the land.

In witness of these things, we have had our seal set on this testament, and we have begged sir John Archbishop of (Syria? Tyre?)[12], and Vicar of the Holy Church of Jerusalem, and the honourable fathers, Brother Hugh de Revel, master of the Hospitallers, and Brother Thomas Bérard, master of the Templars, so that they also have set their seals to this document, together with our abovenamed executors in witness of these things that have been said.

Given at Acre, the Saturday abovenamed, the eighteenth[13] day of June, in the 55th year of the reign of the king our father.

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[1] ‘Edward I’. Nichols, John. A collection of all the wills, now known to be extant, of the kings and queens of England. London: Society of Antiquaries, 1780. Reproduced in facismile by Kessinger, 2007. 18-21. (Actually, it’s A COLLECTION of all THE WILLS, now known to be extant, of the Kings and Queens of ENGLAND, Princes and Princesses of WALES, and every branch of the BLOOD ROYAL, from the reign of WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR, to that of HENRY the SEVENTH exclusive. with EXPLANATORY NOTES, and a GLOSSARY. Why don’t we have titles that double as blurbs anymore? And it’s incorrect: Will’s will, such as it is, is included, as is that of Henry VII - but it was printed as an afterthought.)

[2] “tuz noz beyns, moebles e noun moebles” - I’m uncertain as to whether to translate “moebles” as “furniture”, but I think the sense is broader than that, to general movable possessions. I have to say I am very very tempted to translate “beyns” as “baths”. Clearly, Edward went native in Acre and tied up all his wealth in a very expensive exotic bath collection, some of them so large they would never be moved. This would explain the need to sell them off before returning to England, so that Henry III never has to know about his son’s shameful Eastern indulgences.

[3] “baliz”. In the absence of any helpful dictionary at all I decided to get creative and interpret this as a Frenchification of “bailies” (ie, bailiffs, men appointed to command or guard a stronghold/land in its lord’s absence). It was only after that it occurred to me that the word was probably French in origin anyway. The OED confirms this and suggests “baliz” would be an acceptable spelling; my modern French dictionary suggests that the only survivor is “bailleur” (sponsor, backer); my modern Italian dictionary gives “balia” (nurse, emphasis on the first syllable) and “balìa” (literary/obsolete, absolute authority or one to whom this was given, emphasis on -li-) and states that the second originates from Old French “baillie”. It gives no etymology for the first, which in itself suggests that it, like the vast majority of Italian words, comes direct from the Latin (”baiulus”, porter/carrier/bearer of a burden) and that Italian then later imported the “same” word with a different meaning from the French, keeping it alongside their own version. I love it when Italian does that. And I may well be alone in finding all this fascinating!

[4] “rendre a nostre gent’ lur servise” - I’m divided on whether this refers to formally paying the barons and other lords who followed him to Acre for their military service, or to paying off the gentlemen of his household, or possibly other servants - I’m not sure how specific the word would be with regards to class at this point.

[5] “en... ourir”: I can’t quite think of the English idiom, but I’m guessing it means ‘hear’ in the sense of hear pleas, receive messages, sit at the centre of the web - ie, order, run.

[6] I am very pleased with myself for working out that “le erceuesk de everwyk” is “the Archbishop of York”. For my next trick, I can even give him a name - Walter Giffard!

[7] “akondrunt” - I hereby make the executive decision that the first “n” should be “r”, because it makes more sense that way.

[8] The object of “receyvere” is left implicit - presumably messengers, or accounts, similar to “en ourir” above.

[9] The change from the plural to the singular is in the text. It isn’t clear whether he means the bailies or the executors, but logically the burden of proof would lie with the bailies.

[10] “ceo ke fust nome quant nus les pusams”. I think “pusams” must be the 1st person plural in the perfect indicative of “poer” (which seems to be the infinitive of “pouvoir” for this scribe, though it only occurs as a noun), and it makes sense grammatically, but it’s not clear whether he’s referring to some verbal agreement he made with Eleanor (or her relatives), or perhaps the contracts drawn up for the marriage.

[11] “a nostre seynt pere l’apostle”. Which apostle? The choice is yours! It could possibly be read as “seynt Pere l’apostle” (”pere” in the sense of “father” is spelt earlier as “piere”, so it’s not too great a leap), but that doesn’t explain the “nostre”. In itself “nostre” implies a prayer to Edward’s namesake saint, the Confessor - but he wasn’t an apostle.

[12] “Sur”. I don’t know enough about the theocratic and secular bureaucratic divisions of the Holy Lands at this point to know what the archbishoprics were, or even what “Syria” or “Tyre” was considered to be. But “Vicar of the Holy Church of Jerusalem” was surely a rather forlorn title by now!

[13] I think! On the entirely unscientific basis that “le disutime” just sounds like “the eighteenth”.