Sunday 26 February 2012

The Mystery of Buildings in the Eleventh Century

The Handfasted Wife is my historical fiction in progress. It is about Edith Swanneck, the handfasted wife of Harold Godwin. In this novel locations include late Anglo-Saxon estates, abbeys and palaces such as the Cathedral and Palace at Westminster depicted in an illustration from the Bayeux Tapestry.

Harold is crowned King in the new Cathedral at Westminster, a stone building that was rebuilt in the 13thC
Not much is known on the historical record about Edith Swanneck. I speculate in my fiction that, after Harold set her aside in February 1066, in favour of a political alliance and marriage, he granted her one of the neglected family estates. I chose Reredfelle as it was a Godwin estate recorded in The Domesday Book and was situated on the Sussex-Kent border not too far from Hastings and half way to Winchester from Canterbury (where she is recorded as owning two town houses). As a consequence, Anglo-Saxon estates and all other buildings in my novel have been the subject of extensive research. I have discovered that the subject of building in this period is shrouded with difficulty.


The Late Anglo Saxon Manor


Many of the buildings from the early medieval period were built in wood and either have vanished leaving only post-hole evidence or they have been rebuilt during the succeeding centuries. Generally the Anglo-Saxons built with wood, although by the tenth century, as with the Anglo-Saxon church depicted below, they were building churches in stone.



According to Della Hooke, in the north, farmsteads and settlements probably contained stone buildings. By the eleventh century, in the south there was an established system of large open fields belonging to the manor that were farmed by slaves and villagers. The Anglo-Saxon manor at Cogges in Oxfordshire had a charter where twenty to fifty hides were set aside to be worked as outland with villages placed amongst them. A high status hall and compound would have been substantial. Small huts may have existed within the compound to be used as workshops, stores, sheds, byres, chicken runs and cookhouses. Local markets and trade expanded also during the peaceful years of the mid-eleventh century.

The Eleventh Century Hall


 During the eleventh century, high status building had changed from the simple wooden hall with a cluster of associated buildings into more sophisticated two-storied buildings with an assortment of separate kitchens and work buildings for storage and animals clustered around the hall. Mid-eleventh century halls were becoming manor houses and the area around them, as I suggest at Reredfelle, developed into the manor. Further afield the manor continued with a few small villages and hamlets attached to it. Excavated halls vary. Yavering in Northumberland is an early hall dating from the eighth century and consisted of a group of large halls lying on a single axis with smaller halls nearby. These halls were thirty-six feet by eighty-one feet and fourteen feet high with entrances to the centre of the long walls. End chambers formed part of the internal living space. There is also evidence that halls were plastered white inside. The hearth was placed in the centre and the porches had inner and outer doors. Often the hall had a steep roof and a wooden floor. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle for 978 A.D. speaks of the collapse of a first floor in a hall at Calne, depositing a king and councillors on the ground beneath. The photograph below shows a reconstructed one storied hall from the eleventh century.


An upper storey could exist half way along the hall with a wooden staircase allowing access. The second storey space could be used as one room and could even be used as a minstrels' gallery or it could be divided up. Underneath the upper storey, as at Cheddar, there were room divisions. I suggest that aristocratic buildings may have had an upper window with horn coverings, shutters of woven basketry and on occasion, just possibly, glass. High status buildings may have had tiled roofs as depicted below. In Winchester, small triangular wooden shingles have been found that are associated with the roofs of secular buildings. The illustration from The Bayeux Tapestry below shows that Harold's hall at Bosham had a second storey and an outside stairway. 




Often the exteriors were plastered, whitewashed and even painted in colour. Vine scroll ornament was used and dragons, too, were a favoured form of decoration. The poem Beowulf suggests that shields and tapestries were used as decorations in halls. Elaborate sundials on their own stone plinths were not uncommon in the garden areas of high status buildings.


Some buildings had cellars and airspaces designed to overcome dampness problems under wooden floors and occasionally the wooden floors were suspended.


Villages


Della Hooke suggests that at this time the settlement pattern was made up of isolated farmsteads and hamlets of labourers' cottages at crossroads or along patches of uncultivated land. Groups of people worked together communally with shared interests as diverse as mineral working, fishing or farming. Evidence of deliberate planning, according to Della Hooke, began as early as the seventh century. However, although charters exist from the tenth and eleventh centuries showing that the division of resources existed between peasants on a manor, nucleation became more general with the development of castle building after The Norman Conquest.

A Few Books on the Subject


John Blair, Anglo-Saxon Oxfordshire, Allen Publishing.
Della Hooke, Landscape and Settlement in Britain AD 400-1066, University of Exeter Press.
Mary Kerr, Anglo-Saxon Architecture, Shire Publications.
Fisher, Introduction to Anglo-Saxon Architecture, Faber and Faber.
The Bayeux Tapestry (Look closely at the buildings depicted on the Tapestry).



Sunday 19 February 2012

Winter In Amsterdam

Two weekends ago, Amsterdam, a most sophisticated European city, halted as snow fell and the canals froze over. On Friday all was hushed, traffic crept along the canal sides and bicycles were parked up, along bridges, by curbs, marooned.


We picked our way along slippery cobbles, over treacherous bridges and through narrow icy streets to warm museums, steamy cafes, or to eat in an almost empty restaurant close to our hotel where we watched comings and goings, to and froings, to a comedy club opposite.




There was no evidence of gritting the roads that day. In fact, there was a marked absense of snow ploughs. It meant that the city retained a pristine beauty that felt like we had slipped back in time. Tall houses built during the seventeenth century during Europe's mini ice age and Amsterdam's Golden Age have never looked more enchanting.



The Golden Age in Holland is still present on the network of city canals that expanded during the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries. Gabled houses, so tall and narrow that each posesses outside hoists to lift furniture up and in through the windows, belonged to Amsterdam's wealthy Burghers. Many a merchant realised fabulous fortunes in shipping and trade. Amsterdam's history is preserved in the Historical Museum and in a museum dedicated to the adventures of the V.O.C., (the East India Company). Amsterdam began as a small medieval town during the twelfth century, simple medieval homes built up on piles in the marshland that bordered the Amstel river. When the river was dammed at the river mouth to create a harbour the town got its name and trade boomed.



On a harbour tour we caught a glimpse of a replica of a V.O.C. ship, and, later, as our boat ploughed through ice and into the city's canals the noise of ice breaking was deafening. In contrast, unpreturbed, ducks and swans glided gracefully and effortlessly around miniature ice flows. By the end of the weekend the canals had iced over. The adventurous were skating or participating in games of ice hockey. I imagined how colourful and exciting the frost fairs that were held on rivers and canals throughout Europe during the seventeenth century must have been.








At night street lights glimmered on the ice and snow hung amongst pollarded trees and covered statues on squares with a glistening coat. We passed a pleasant evening in Boom Chicago where the  nightly stand up satirical comedy shows are in English.



During the day we visited art galleries and museums. Of particular note is the Church in the Attic, a Catholic church that was established in secret in a tall house during the seventeenth century after Holland had embraced Protestantism. The house is now undergoing restoration and is, itself, a museum. One of my favourite places in the city is the Begijnhof (founded in the twelfth century) which was home to a medieval religious community of unmaried women, though not an order of nuns, who looked after the sick. It is still and hushed and it is one of the oldest courts in the city of Amsterdam, atmospheric and secluded, especially so in quiet, wintery weather.








This February the five villages skating race may happen. It takes place in Northern Holland but only when the canals freeze over and the last occurance was thirteen years ago. It reminds me of a magical long-ago journey. The first time I visited Holland was as a child, and before we set out on our great one month adventure from Belfast to Amsterdam in our black Morris Oxford car, my mother read us traditional Dutch stories including that of Hans Brinker and his skates and so numerous trips later I to this day remain utterly enchanted by this beautiful Northern European city, its buildings, museums, parks, snowy scenes and frozen canals.





Sunday 29 January 2012

An Eye for Fashion, Photography by Norman Parkinson 1954-1964

Last weekend I took a stroll into the past. I was delighted to receive an invitation from our friend Angela Williams to attend the launch of an exhibition of original vintage prints by fashion photography Norman Parkinson. Angela was Parkinson's assistant during the early sixties. When he left his Twickenham studio she asked if she could have his surplus vintage silver prints. And so, decades later, thanks to Angela's efforts to save and preserve them, we were standing looking at an exhibition of wonderful photographs exquisitely displayed at the M Shed in Bristol's redeveloped dockland. The exhibition runs until 15th April and is worth a visit especially if you are writing in the period, if you are interested in the history of fashion or you simply enjoy lovely photographs well displayed. After April the photographs will travel to the U.S.

Another opening, another (special) show....
Entrance to exhibition at M Shed, Bristol
Angela
Michael, Angela's partner


Models (mannequins) wearing clothes from the period set off the photographs. Period wallpapers are tastefully chosen as a background for the models.

21st century meets 20th
Price label reads £3.10 shillings
Sixties tweed
Viewing
Retro
Art in photographs



Angela and her partner hosted the opening and it was busy. The guests were almost, but not quite, as superbly dressed as the models in the photographs. How could they compete? None the less, the guests all looked beautiful having made a salute to the era with their own dress style and with their own individual accents. Dancers and singers were hired for the occasion. Canapes and cocktails were served in the rooms adjacent to the gallery there was a continuous buzz of enthusiastic conversation.

Get down
Hipster family
Classic Parkinson model
Bristol Gothic
Angela is the focus of attention under Parkinson's gaze
Sophistication
See exhibition caption below
Quite
A contrast in fashions
Baby Doll, Carol Baker
"Vicky Strevens wearing Slimma skirt with a Netawear top"


Then, of course there is the after show party which took place in The Living Room, a modern building in the clubbing and partying section of the redeveloped Docks. The finishes look expensive, and inside, the upper level is spanned by an interior bridge which allows unusual perspectives for people-watching. Incongruously, a white Baby Grand piano has on its lid a laptop computer from which the resident DJ orchestrates the cacophonous beats which target every nook and cranny like eardrum seeking sonic missiles. They make impossible any conversation which is more nuanced or intelligent than simple pick-up lines.

We retreat outside to the patio and in the glow generated by the infra-red heaters and the strong cocktails we gather around a few tables to review and discuss what was a fabulous evening.

The visit to this show was just the tonic for a chill January evening. It made me reflect on post-war optimism and the innocent fun associated with London during the Sixties. There were no mobile phones, TV had for most of the era two channels, videos were unheard of, and DVDs and personal computers were for the future. Yet, when I look at these photographs I feel the positivity of the era emanating from the background to many of these shots. The exhibition was for me, a keyhole into a past decade and now I feel like hunting out photographs of my own mother and looking closely at those hats and shoes and the little 1940s/ 1950s Jaeger suits she once apon a time wore. And perhaps, it is because of her that I , too, have always loved 'style' her term for fashion.

An Eye For Fashion, Norman Parkinson Photographs, British Designers 1954 - 1964 runs until 15th April.

http://mshed.org/





Sunday 22 January 2012

The Memsahib of Ooty, A Passage to Kerala, part 2.

E.M Foster's Passage to India is not simply about the domination of the Raj, it is, more importantly, about human relationships. When Foster writes in his other famous novel, Howard's End,the words, 'only connect', he emphasises that it is the connections between human beings that matter most in his writing. As I sat on the Nilgili mountain railway with our suitcases shoved under my seat I felt a connection, with India and with my fellow passengers. We were thrown together for the slow haul up the mountain on a train that could have carried Miss Quested into the hills decades earlier and after five hours of extremely slow travel, stunning scenery and various stops, we were laughing and talking to each other in the relaxed manner of happy travellers as if we had been in each other's company for longer than a few hours. Since the train needed to have frequent stops to replenish the water tank we tumbled off onto platforms to take photographs, side-step friendly monkeys and on one occasion to drink masala tea and eat samosas served in old issues of The Deccan Chronicle.

The Engine
.
One of the many water stops
The engine pushes rather than pulls the train

A well oiled machine





Getting ready to leave



 At Coonoor I shoved along my seat to allow an intrepid traveller called Cecilia to join us. She has come to India every year for twenty years and she knows regions that, to me, are still names on a map. Cecilia is an elegant, older, switched-on and delightful lady who was that week visiting her friends at an organic nursery near the race track in Ooty. Then, there were the Indian students in the next carriage who sang songs for us all as we climbed higher and higher up the mountain, their harmonising voices eventually disappearing into the steam that trailed behind the train. And finally in the front carriage sat a friendly Australian family whom we saw again in Mysore whizzing by, piled into an auto rickshaw.

A young couple on the Coonoor platform

The Cameronian future
Tea plantation seen from the train


Udagamandalam or Ooty was once a Raj hill station and we stayed in a Taj hotel that had long ago been a private school. Its grounds boasted rhodadendrons and hydrangeas that are familiar in Irish gardens. The hotel menu included memsahib dishes such as Dak Bungalow Chicken which I hope never ever to experience again as it is over cooked chicken in luke-warm gravy, boiled vegetables accompanied by tasteless rice. Sticking with Indian food was seriously more successful. In the hills, the temperature drops at night but when the dining room wood fire is lit and the honky tonk piano player bangs out old songs, I feel myself transported into the past of cool lawns, tea gardens, clubs, evening dances and the entertainments of a bygone time. For a moment I become the memsahib of Ooty.

Main building Taj Savoy Hotel, Ooty
Sunset over the Savoy
Tea Shop
Mysore Palace

The Sunday night illuminations are a social event

Now returned to England from my third trip to India, I look at my photographs and remember all the train travel, the porters who carry suitcases on their heads, crossing tracks to reach the other platform, the friendly young of Kerala who want to talk and practise their English, the jovial manager of a silk factory in Mysore and the workers in a sandalwood factory where the expensive perfume was so subtle I wanted to trap its unique scent for ever in a sandalwood box. India is chaotic but there is order within the chaos. There is a spirituality, of course, too, that in EM Foster's novel is personified in the character of Professor Godbole. And so, as winter continues here and I return to my writing, I look out on a landscape of bare trees that scratch steel-grey skies, recharged by the colours and energies of India and dream of connecting with this wonderful continent another day.      

A crepuscular Cochin
The Chinese nets at Fort Cochin