Giordano Bruno: Philosopher and Heretic

Edward A. Gosselin reviews Ingrid Rowland’s Giordano Bruno: Philosopher, Heretic.

Ingrid Rowland’s biography of Giordano Bruno brings the life and thought of this important late sixteenth-century figure to the English-speaking world. There have been many studies of Bruno’s philosophy and life, especially since Dame Frances Yates’s groundbreaking work, Giordano Bruno and the Hermetic Tradition (1964). Much of the subsequent work on Bruno has been either for or against Yates’s interpretation of Bruno as a Hermetic magus or sorcerer.

Rowland’s biography is generally excellent. Writing in a smooth and dramatic way, she translates passages accurately and closely to the original text. Her biography deals with Bruno’s early years in Nola, Southern Italy, where he was born in 1548, and through his years as a young monk in Naples.

The Travels of Giordano Bruno

In 1576 Bruno left the monastery and wandered throughout Northern Italy, looking for an income as a teacher of Sacrobosco’s Sphere (a 13th century treatise on astronomy) and the art of memory. He then went over the Alps to Calvinist Geneva and, after incurring trouble there because of an argument with the city’s leading theologian, went to France travelling from Lyon to Toulouse. He taught for a while in Toulouse until religious acrimony between Huguenots and Catholics caused him to go to Paris. In Paris, he became attached to Henri III’s royal academy and courtiers and their interest in the work of Copernicus (the 16th century astronomer).

In 1583, Bruno crossed the Channel to London, where he lived in the household of the French ambassador, the Marquis de Mauvissière. He lectured at Oxford but was ridiculed for his accent and seeming plagiarism of earlier Renaissance works.

Returning to London, Bruno wrote five Italian dialogues with assertions of cosmic infinity. In 1585, he returned briefly to Paris before setting off on his visits to German university cities and then to the imperial city of Prague. Failing to find lasting work in any of these places, he went to the Frankfurt book fair. This is where his several last works on magic and the art of memory were published, some of them in verse.

Guilty of Heresy

Bruno returned to Venice, having been hired by Giovanni Mocenigo to teach him the art of memory. By May 1592, Mocenigo, fearing that Bruno would find a new, more responsive pupil, locked Bruno in his cellar to prevent his return to Frankfurt. He eventually turned Bruno over to the Venetian Inquisition, claiming that he had expressed heretical thoughts. Although the Venetian Inquisition failed to find him guilty of heresy, it complied with the request of the Roman Inquisition to turn Bruno over to that body. And so Bruno spent the rest of his days in Inquisitorial prison cells until, on February 8, 1600, the Roman Inquisition found him guilty of heresy. On February 17, he was burned to death in the Campo dei Fiori in Rome.

Rowland treats the story of Bruno’s imprisonment in Venice and Rome especially well and, to my mind, it is here that her dramatic storytelling comes off most poignantly.

I congratulate Ingrid Rowland’s publication of a detailed life of Bruno. It will be a classic for many years and should be read by all who want to know about this most dramatic philosopher of the late Italian Renaissance.

Edward A. Gosselin
See Edward’s Reformation In An Hour

1066: The Impact and Legacy of the Norman Invasion of England

On October 14th, 1066, the English army, led by King Harold, was defeated by Duke William and the Normans at the Battle of Hastings. Most people will remember this famous story from their school days, particularly the gruesome image of King Harold with an arrow in the eye. But Hastings was more than just a battle, it was the start of a new chapter in England’s history. The Norman Invasion may seem like a very distant event in our nation’s past, but it is one worth remembering.

Land and Wealth

When Duke William first approached his men with the idea of invading England, he received a cool reception. It took the promise of foreign lands and titles to persuade them otherwise. After the Battle of Hastings, William kept this promise and rewarded those who had fought alongside him at the expense of the native English aristocracy. To illustrate the full extent of this, just look at one of William’s greatest achievements, the Domesday Survey of 1086. By this point, William had been king for 20 years and whatever his motivations for completing a survey on this scale, it shows a dramatic reversal of English fortunes. Continue reading

Who Killed William Rufus? A Great Medieval Mystery

History does not remember King William Rufus very fondly. This immoral, vain and ill-tempered man, the younger son of William the Conqueror, came to the throne in 1087 and on August 2nd 1100, died while hunting in the New Forest. Was his death a tragic accident or was he the victim of a fatal conspiracy?

Our fullest account of that day comes from Orderic Vitalis. He tells us that Rufus was in a good mood that morning and that he had dined with the hunting party, made up of William’s youngest brother, Henry, and Gilbert de Clare and his younger brother, Roger of Clare. Also present was Walter Tirel who was married to Richard de Clare’s daughter, Adelize. While getting dressed for the hunt, a smith presented Rufus with six arrows of which he kept four for himself and gave the other two to Tirel.

According to Orderic, Rufus said “it is only right that the sharpest arrows go to the man who knows how to inflict the deadliest shots.”

A Bad Omen?

Before the party set off, a letter arrived from the Abbott of Gloucester. It warned of a monk’s vision of the king’s death. Rufus dismissed the letter, saying that he had no interest in the “dreams of snoring monks.” With that, the party made their way into the forest.

Accident or Murder?

The party split off into groups, leaving Rufus and Walter Tirel together. Tirel took a shot at a stag coming towards them but his arrow missed and landed in the King’s chest. Rufus was dead within minutes and Tirel fled the scene and returned to France.

Rufus’ younger brother, Henry, galloped to Winchester to secure the crown, while Rufus was carted back by his servants “like a wild boar stuck with spears.”

It is certainly possible that Rufus’ death was an accident. Perhaps Tirel fled the scene because he feared that he would take the blame. It was not unheard of to die in such a way; Rufus had lost his elder brother and one of his cousins from an arrow in the New Forest. But doubts still remain about this theory. The young Henry had much to gain from his brother’s death and, once he had been crowned, he was particularly generous to the de Clare family. Was this a reward for helping him to murder Rufus?

An act of divine punishment?

In her 2005 biography, Dr Emma Mason argues that Rufus was assassinated by a French agent, Raoul d’Equesnes, who was in the employ of Walter Tirel. She maintains that Rufus was assembling an army on the south coast of England with plans to invade France. On hearing of this, the French king arranged to have Rufus assassinated and replaced with his younger, and less-threatening brother, Henry. The fact that Henry cancelled the plans for invasion shortly after his coronation certainly lends weight to her argument.

Contemporary writers believed that Rufus’ death was an act of divine punishment. He had been an evil king, he had mocked the Church and so he paid the ultimate price. But accident, murder or act of God, Rufus’ death continues to catch our imaginations as one of the greatest medieval mysteries.

Kaye Jones

1066: One Crown, Two Kings, Three Battles

Thanks to school history lessons 1066 is a year that everyone remembers.

But there’s a lot more to 1066 than the Battle of Hastings, it altered the course of English history and there has never been a year like it since.

Here is a taste of the background to the turmoil of 1066.

Edward the Confessor
It all started with the the death of a king; Edward the Confessor, to be precise, on January 4, 1066.

His marriage to Queen Edith had not produced an heir but, whilst on his deathbed, Edward averted a succession crisis by naming Harold Godwinson, Earl Of Wessex, the next king of England. The Witan, the king’s council, unanimously confirmed Edward’s choice. He was, after all, Queen Edith’s brother and the most powerful noble in the country. So, on January 6 1066, Harold Godwinson became King Harold II.

Continue reading

The Harrying of the North: a Great Medieval Massacre, 1069

“In his anger at the English barons, William commanded that all crops and herds, chattels and foods should be burned to ashes, so that the whole of the North be stripped of all means of survival. So terrible a famine fell upon the people, that more than 100,000 young and old starved to death. My writings have often praised William, but for this act I can only condemn him.” Orderic Vitalis

Although it only took William and his army one day to defeat the English at the Battle of Hastings, it took far longer to secure his position as King of England. Sporadic rebellions and threats of foreign invasion were hallmarks of the early years of William’s reign and prompted his greatest act of cruelty, known as the Harrying of the North.

The Rebellious English

The Anglo-Saxon brother and earls, Edwin of Mercia and Morcar of Northumbria, are notorious figures of medieval history. They had unsuccessfully defended the north of England at the Battle of Fulford Gate in September 1066, narrowly escaping death in the ensuing slaughter. In the aftermath Morcar was replaced as the earl of Northumbria which is probably why neither earls fought at Stamford Bridge or at Hastings. In early 1067, shortly after William’s coronation, Edwin and Morcar swore loyalty to their new king but they did not keep their promise for long…

In 1069, possibly because of William’s fiscal demands, or Morcar’s loss of claim to Northumbria, the earls were in rebellion. They joined forces with a Danish fleet and with England’s other claimant to the throne, Edgar the Aetheling. Together, the rebels took York, sacked the city and attacked the Normans who had recently settled there.

William Strikes Back 

On hearing the news from York, William reacted quickly and marched north with his army. William was not just determined to crush this rebellion but to deter the English, and the Danes, from rising again. William’s response was to destroy. He began first with the city of York, isolating his enemies and finally driving them out. His destruction did not end in York, or even in Yorkshire. With his army he travelled around the north of England, laying waste to anything and everything. The Harrying (as depicted here from the Bayeux Tapestry) is best described by Orderic Vitalis, who captured the emotion and the horror of William’s systematic ruin.

The Harrying may have had the desired effect but there is evidence to suggest that William may have deeply regretted the severity of his actions. According to Orderic, William bared all on his deathbed:

“I persecuted the native inhabitants of England beyond all reason. Whether nobles or commons, I cruelly oppressed them; many I unjustly disinherited; innumerable multitudes, especially in the county of York, perished through me by famine and sword…I am stained with the rivers of blood that I have shed.”

Kaye Jones
Read more in 1066 In An Hour

The Black Death and . . . Vampires?

The Black Death is undoubtedly one of the greatest natural disasters that has ever been recorded by the annals of history. It swept through Europe from the end of the 1340s and continued to reappear periodically until the end of the 18th century. Many questions continue to surround the Black Death, but an archaeological discovery on an island outside Venice adds a new dimension to how we view the Black Death today.

Lazzaretto Nuovo

The Lazzaretto Nuovo is an island in the Venetian Lagoon just north of Venice. The island served as a lazaret (quarantine hospital) for plague victims, a function that is believed to have begun in 1468 and lasted until the 18th century. It is the younger of two lazarets that served Venice. The other was Lazzaretto Vecchio, which was established in 1403 and is the oldest plague lazaret in the world.

Following its service as a lazaret, Lazzaretto Nuovo served for a time as a military barracks before becoming a hotbed of archaeological activity.  During the Black Death, those who fell ill were sent to these lazarets where they faced a slim chance of recovery. The sick were tended to by the few who survived. Surviving the Black Death effectively inoculated one against falling ill again.

Those who did not survive were buried in mass graves, a grisly site uncovered in the past few years. Thousands of dead were buried on this tiny island.

Vampires

Stories of vampires are common and include such famous interpretations as Bram Stoker’s Dracula and the recent Twilight craze by Stephenie Meyer. Images of vampires do not usually come to mind when discussing the Black Death. However, vampires were often associated with the Black Death throughout Europe. In Northern and Central Europe, vampires were thought to be bringers of plague. On the other hand, in Southern Europe, it was believed that the Black Death itself attracted vampires.

Vampires were one of many scapegoats of the Black Death. After death, the natural decaying process of the body causes certain physiological changes that were witnessed on a large scale during the time of the Black Death. For instance, hair and fingernails give the appearance of continued growth as skin tissue recedes. This was mistaken as a sign that the person was still living. Bacteria in the mouth would eat through the shrouds placed over the heads of the dead causing their teeth to become quite conspicuous. Blood would seep from the mouth during the bloating process. Adding these elements together was a recipe for vampire lore to spread.

Discovery

One particular skeletal remain at Lazzaretto Nuovo is more eye-catching than perhaps any other skeletal remain at the site. This particular skeleton was uncovered with a brick shoved in its mouth. The brick did not end up there accidentally; it was placed there because this woman was believed to be a vampire. This technique of “killing” a vampire had been described in literature, but there had been no evidence to support it until this discovery. The skull dates to 1576 during an outbreak of the Black Death in Venice. The skull belonged to a woman between the ages of 61 and 71. It was believed that a vampire would eat its way out of a grave, thus a brick was placed in the vampire’s mouth to prevent it from reemerging.

Tales of vampires existed in Europe before the Black Death, but the overwhelming scale of the Black Death seems to have heightened belief in vampires. Vampires were supposed to be the result of improper burial and death without the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick. Mass burials that resulted from the Black Death were common throughout Europe. Those who became ill were likely to not receive this last sacrament because it was simply not possible for clergy to reach every dying person, especially considering that the Black Death hit clergymen particularly hard.

So, it was during the time of the Black Death that many of our modern notions relating to vampires developed and the “Vampire of Venice” lends historical credence to what had been thought to be just a convention of literature from the time.

 Sarah Jane Bodell

See also Black Death – lesser known facts

1066 and the Bayeux Tapestry

It’s famed as one of the most striking and important pieces of medieval art but the Bayeux Tapestry also happens to be a leading primary source for the events of 1066.

Making the Bayeux Tapestry 

Strictly speaking the Bayeux Tapestry isn’t a tapestry, it’s a linen embroidery made of nine panels which were sewn together. It measures an impressive 68 metres in length (about 223 feet) and is half a metre high.
Originally the Tapestry’s linen canvas was grey in colour but due to overexposure to daylight, it has changed to an off-white shade. This has, however, created the perfect backdrop for the array of colours used in the decoration of the Tapestry. These colours were derived from fermenting three plants – Woad, Madder and Dyer’s Rocket. Although they have faded over the centuries, I can testify to how bright and amazing the Tapestry still is.

Who Made the Bayeux Tapestry?

It was once believed that the Tapestry was commissioned by Queen Matilda and was painstakingly produced by her ladies. Historians, however, now believe that it was made at the request of Odo, the Bishop of Bayeux and half-brother to Duke William. He intended it to hang in the Cathedral of Our Lady of Bayeux, which was consecrated in 1077.

Historians disagree on exactly who made it and where it was made. Many argue that it was made in England, perhaps in Canterbury or Winchester, while others believe it was stitched in France. Either way, its mysterious origins continue to attract scholars but they aren’t the only tantalising part of the Tapestry….

Controversy In the Bayeux Tapestry

In the Tapestry, the story of 1066 is told through a series of illustrated scenes which are annotated in Latin. They are surrounded by an intricately embroidered border, both above and below, filled with pictures of animals, mythical creatures, scenes of daily life in the Middle Ages and, rather controversially, some scenes of an explicit nature.
Take, for example, the scene where Harold is captured by Guy and taken to Duke William. In the border below is the image of a naked man holding a pair of reins with a large erection. His arms are open wide to a naked woman, shamefully covering her genitalia (see image).

Yes, you read that right, and this is just one of many scenes which have baffled historians. Some have argued that this border scene is used to draw attention to the treachery that Harold is about to commit; swearing on holy relics that he will help to secure the throne for Duke William. Or perhaps a metaphor for the ‘trap’ that awaits Harold.

The Bayeux Tapestry, housed in the Bayeux Tapestry museum, is an invaluable source for the events of 1066 but even now, a thousand years later, it still has a few secrets of its own.

For evidence that the Tapestry is a piece of Norman propaganda, look no further than the scene of Harold’s oath to William. Everything about this scene justifies William’s invasion of England and  legitimises his claim to the throne. From first glance, the scene is depicted not as a private arrangement between two men, but as a splendid formal ceremony with numerous witnesses. This is not just any promise, this is a sacred oath sworn in front of an altar and over holy relics. Even the positioning of this scene emphasises its importance; the oath appears as the main event in Harold’s stay in Normandy, as the first climax in the events of 1066.

Fables in the Tapestry

As mentioned in the previous blog post, there are many animal illustrations in the Tapestry’s border scenes. Historians have identified many of these as depictions of Aesop’s fables. These fables were popular and well-known among all classes of medieval society and trusted sources of social, political and religious communication. Studies of the Tapestry have revealed that seven of Aesop’s fables appear underneath the depiction of Harold’s visit to Normandy and reinforce the idea that the Tapestry is a piece of Norman propaganda. As H. E. J. Cowdrey has argued, the predominant theme which emerges from the cluster of fables is “hidden danger to the unwary by the crafty and deceitful.” Is Harold this crafty and deceitful figure?

The Real Purpose Of The Tapestry?

Interpreting the Tapestry as a piece of Norman propaganda may be misleading because historians are still unsure about its purpose. Was it intended to be a historical document or, maybe, a piece of entertainment for the new Anglo-Norman aristocracy? Or, did Bishop Odo hope that some moral lessons could be learned from 1066?
One thing is certain: the Bayeux Tapestry is as complex and as fascinating as the events it portrays.
Kaye Jones
Read more in 1066 In An Hour