Showing posts with label England. Show all posts
Showing posts with label England. Show all posts

Saturday, February 22, 2014

The Romance of Pan



Art by Frank Pape

I am Pan, Io Pan, Io Pan Pan! Pan!
I am thy mate, I am thy man,
Goat of thy flock, I am gold, I am god,
Flesh to my bone, flower to thy rod.
With hoofs of steel I race on the rocks
Through solstice stubborn to equinox
And I rave, and I rape and I rip and I rend
Everlasting, world without end -
Manniken, maiden, maenad, man,
In the might of Pan
Io Pan, Io Pan Pan! Pan! Io Pan!


 ~ Aleister Crowley
 



Pan has become a part of my life for a few years now – he doesn’t seem to go away. Not only does he, as a God, make me raise an eyebrow, but so do Cernunnos and Herne. It seems it’s best to combine this triple-god into one and name him the Horned God. As he seems to be a large part of my life, he’s become my patron god. For a long time now, any images of Pan, Herne or some horny fellow has taken my interest, in jewellery, artwork, statues and even men. Clearly I desire some sort of lover in his form, and in this way Pan came to me recently, in a fleeting love affair, or so I believe. But that’s another story!


Io Pan! For years, I’ve been interested in Pan or Cernunnos in fiction, and have been recently collecting stories all for an article, which I do not know will ever be published. For now I will put some of it here, on this blog. Mostly I take a note from Ronald Hutton and talk about Pan’s popularity within fiction and poetry in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. In the age of Romanticism, Pan made a successful comeback into modern fiction, away from Arcadia and the interference of the Classical Gods. As I love stories, I have focused on these short tales involving Pan, which I have categorized and summarised.

'He epitomized the Summer months, 
the shady glades of mid-afternoon, 
an agricultural God for those who revered 
the swards of Old Albion'
 
Art by Alexandre Lisrel

 An Old Foreign God for Albion
Of all the Greek and Roman Gods to inspire and indulge the human race, Pan appeared within more literature than other Gods just before World War I. Professor Ronald Hutton himself dedicated an entire chapter to the return of the pagans’ God Pan, within novels, short stories and poems of the late Victorian and Edwardian period within his book Triumph of the Moon (1999). In classical times, Pan was considered ‘a comic-grotesque little country god’ – a kind of fool to the other Olympian Gods, a drunken, sexual deviant - a lesser god. Other gods entered into literature of the English and have done so since medieval times. One of them was Apollo, the handsome sun god of art and poetry. Who would have thought that this exceedingly attractive God fell in favour of the drunk, hideous Pan within the Victorian Era? Thanks to the poets and artists of the Romantic Age, Pan became an attractive representation of the émigré God of rustic England. He epitomized the Summer months, the shady glades of mid-afternoon, an agricultural God for those who revered the swards of Old Albion. England created their own image of Pan; gave him beauty, made him a pastoral pagan local god - a green Jesus - transporting him from the Ancient World, and welcoming him into their green and pleasant land. 


As the sciences began to take over academic thought in the nineteenth century, so did a new kind of magic and polytheism, and a regretfully lost connection to nature. Even with the British people’s familiarity with their landscape, they still sensed that awe of panic that Pan evokes. The panic is still out there – whether you are acquainted with the landscape or not. It appeared these artists, poets and writers anticipated that Arcadia must come to England.


Then Pan in stories and poetry abruptly stopped. The inception of World War I certainly did not help, the quixotic peacefulness England had enjoyed for almost a millennia, had been challenged by attacks from Europe. Not many of the English were quite the same after this war, were always on their guard, and perhaps did not get so lazily idealistic ever again. Pan enters literature in many aspects during this time. From hero, to helper, to lover, his connection as Nature God is never forgotten, no matter how much he meddles with mortals. These aspects that appear to emerge from the stories come into these categories – Pan as fear and terror, the sexual energy, the accepted god, the ‘Friend and Helper,’ corrupter of the clergy, lover, and hidden presence. Each category overlaps with each other in many combinations; each story captures some of these features.


Panic of the Presence 
E. M Forster’s short story The Story of a Panic (1902), Pan’s rambunctious energy completely terrifies a crowd of English tourists on a hill in the Italian countryside, scattering them blindly into the woods - all except for a lazy, spoilt and repellent English teenage boy, who is possessed and seduced by the God. The boy, Eustace, who was not afraid, never recovers from his meeting with the God, rolling in His ‘scent’ after the encounter, delving into the woods here and there on the return to the hotel. His behaviour disgusted the English compatriots who were with him, and even after his epiphany which improved him as a person, he was still treated as uncivil and bad-mannered - his panic was not a fear of Pan, but a fear of being trapped inside away from Nature. In A Touch of Pan (1917) by Algernon Blackwood, an egocentric couple indulging in adultery feel the terror of Pan when they delve into his domain, a pine forest. In Saki’s (Hector Munroe) short tale, The Music on the Hill (1911) Pan, an invisible presence but for his statue, sends a stag to fatally gore a woman, the new wife of a rural lord who worships Pan along with the local laymen. The wife, destroying an offering to Pan, dies as a result of the insult.


Sexual Powers
yayashin - deviant art
In A Touch of Pan, panic and lust both occurs. Blackwood’s otherworldly protagonists, Heber and Elspeth, both accept the Great Gods’ lustful blessings. Heber, a thirty year old, decides he dislikes his aristocratic fiancé Hermione, and is now enamoured of Elspeth, an otherworldly teenager, who dislikes society and prefers to go barefoot outside ‘to play with her kind.’ The two make plans to tryst and leave the condescending and pompous house party hosted by Elspeth’s parents, they frolic in the long grass, make love, and eventually join the fierce reverence of other fauns in the veneration of Pan Himself. Homosexual love was also esteemed by Pan in tales. In Forrest Reid’s The Garden God (1905), a young boy Grahame falls in love with a boy named Harold at his boarding school, seeing Harold as the God Pan, and loving him completely. In E. M Forster’s The Curate’s Friend, (1911) the faun makes the protagonist’s love interest fall in love with another man. In a way, Pan acts as a lustful Cupid.

Acceptance of the God
In my opinion, one of the best books about Pan from the early twentieth century is The Blessing of Pan (1928) by Lord Dunsany. A village in or around Wiltshire called Wolding, has its inhabitants meeting in the woods, drawn by haunting panpipes. One boy, Tommy Duffin, playing the panpipes which were a gift from Pan, entices other villages to fall under his trance. Eventually, the entire village succumbs to the enticing piping and worship of Pan at the old Stone Circle on the hill. The village, after it’s yielding to pagan worship, settled down into tranquil rural isolation, both self-sufficient and disconnected from the outside world.  A sequel of sorts was written by Charles de Lint with his book Greenmantle (1988).

Pan and the Twins (1922) by Eden Phillpotts, is set in Ancient Rome at the arrival of Christianity. The protagonist Aradius, a supposed orphan, and worshipper of the Nature God, becomes Pan’s friend. Pan rescues the abandoned slave youth by healing his wounds, and telling him who his father is. Once reunited with his father and becoming heir, Aradius meets his long lost twin brother Hilarion, a Christian priest who chooses to become a hermit in a cave on his brother’s land. Hilarion accepts the presence and existence of Pan, despite being very pious. 


Art by Harry Hargreaves - Wind in the Willows
In The Wind in the Willows, Ratty and Mole and the animals of the River and Wild Wood are like Pan – half man, half animal, but they speak and dress in clothes, row boats, drive cars (badly) and live in houses. Pan is physically half man, half animal, and that makes him the perfect God for them. They revere the earth, the river, the woods, and the sun; why not have a guardian God that represents those?
 

Corruption of the Clergy
It interests many readers to watch one religion being tarnished by another. Most people want to know where it ends up; stay loyal and trust faith, or change sides. Priests being confronted by Pan or his energy either accept it, or simply find his existence a distraction. It thrills pagans to read this – to have a pagan seduced and blessed by the Christian God is common enough in stories, but to have it happen the other way around is decadent. The Blessing of Pan, is the ultimate corruption of the clergy. The Vicar of Wolding, Elderick Anwrel , tries desperately hard to prevent his entire congregation from falling into the evil and unknown vices of pagan worship, but fails, in turn becoming the High Priest of Pan. 

The priest Harry in The Curate’s Friend, is at first appalled by the visitation of the faun when he is the only one who can see it. The faun teaches the priest to laugh and accept everything, which he does. Harry from then on sees the chalk downs - the earth - as a living thing, he hears it speak, whisper and sleep. 


Hilarion the hermit priest in Pan and the Twins does not become pagan, but he does listen to Pan’s advice and give up his hermit life to marry the woman he loves and help the unfortunate and oppressed.



‘Some august Presence was very, very near…’
To not see or hear Pan’s name, but to feel him near as an agreeable presence as an ‘anti-panic’ occurs a lot in many of the more subtly themed stories. The Wind in Willows is a prime example – the Rat and Mole feel him as they row towards the island in search of their friend.  In The Garden God, Grahame experiences Pan by a cricket pitch, while all the boys are distractedly playing, and later both he and Harold feel him when they make a shrine to him by the sea; to them he is the Unknown God. Tommy Duffin in The Blessing of Pan must have felt the influence, and been possessed by Pan, to be able to pick up the panpipes and begin playing, even without his knowledge of any tunes. While this manifestation is more pleasant than a Panic, it still justifies that Pan can have a gentler side when he is in the vicinity of humans.

The Great God Pan by Norman Price



Pan in Fiction
It’s become one of my favourite subjects, a pagan God seducing the earthbound mortals. It is strange that Pan himself, a raucous, sexual and savage entity, should inspire the writers of civil England, especially in the time between 1895 and 1918. Perhaps the onset of the Industrial Revolution and the removal of people from rural England into the satanic mills and blackened cities, encouraged writers to help the lay people remember the pastoral and the genius loci. The Romantic Age of the nineteenth century brought not only a surge of interest in romances like Arthurian and Robin Hood legends, but a growing interest in the old Gods, not so much to worship, but a frame for rural romanticism. Today, Pan or the Horned God often turns up in fiction as a battle between good and evil. In the Edwardian era, it seems he was just a decadent presence to accept. But I love these stories – The Blessing of Pan and A Touch of Pan especially. Blackwood’s tale really inspires my own writing, and indeed, I’ve written my own love story involving Pan, however it was written 12 months before I read Blackwood. Pan will forever be lover and friend to me – in my stories and life, and in these tales I feel closer to him, as every aspect of the author’s mind. Pan has been made Romantic, and that certainly suits the pagans of today.

Pan by Gerald Metcalfe







Thursday, August 8, 2013

British Gothic Romance Novels – Elizabeth Bonhote’s ‘Bungay Castle’


When I was in Suffolk in June of 2006, I stayed in Bungay as I mentioned here. Bungay, amoung other East Anglian villages, still have myth and legend attached to it. A lot of the villages in East Anglia are quite untouched, and I think that was because of its location. Just as the West is untouched (Cornwall and Devon), people travelled north from London, avoiding the West and East, thus the roads and byways are less driven, therefore still holds mystery. Black Shuck walks those byways. And other goolies. But another thing that is amazing about Bungay is the female author who was born and lived there.

Bungay Castle, Midsummer 2006
Elizabeth Bonhote lived from 1744 – 1818. She wrote novels during Ann Radcliffe’s time. Before Jane Austen. Before the Brontes, and their issues with publishing as women. Her most notable novel is Bungay Castle (1796). This novel comes under the category of Gothic Romance. It makes me wonder whether Jane Austen read Bungay Castle like she did Ann Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho, and Matthew Lewis’s The Monk. This book was first published in 1796, and then promptly forgotten about. For a couple of centuries, it seems. When it was re-discovered, it was edited and given an introduction by Curt Herr, an American lecturer in literature at Kutztown University. Curt Herr even made it to Bungay for the re-releasing of the novel in April 2006, the year of the novel's 210th anniversary.
While I visited Bungay Castle with a friend on that warm Sunday near midsummer in 2006, I purchased the Bungay Castle book from the gift shop of Bungay Castle. You cannot get any better than that.


A model of the Castle as it
 probably appeared
I had been intrigued by the book at my friend’s fathers house, flipping through, reading the introduction. Considered a very feminist novel, it includes women who become heroines to admire. They even rescue men. I read it in London, not long after I got it, and tried to picture how Bungay Castle itself looked back then. The Castle itself is not a large one. It went up, rather than out, with a wall all around it.
 
An entrance to the tunnels?
The tale includes gothic subterranean passages, dungeons, and towers, all of which Bungay Castle had, or is rumoured to have had. There are tales of tunnels that run from the Castle to St Mary’s Church and its priory; as in the novel, the heroes and heroines used the tunnels often during their adventures. One of the heroines was forced by her father to enter into the convent at the priory and her lover used to come through the tunnels to meet her. Gothic indeed! Walter the emaciated prisoner; rescued by his lover Rosaline, whose father owned the Castle, performs heroic deeds of his own. Oh, for the BBC to make an adaptation of it! I believe Bonhote exaggerated the size of the Castle, but then she had the license too. It was fiction!  
Looking towards the Tower
Elizabeth Bonhote loved Bungay Castle. Her husband even bought it for her once, but she could not enjoy it due to people squatting in it. Well, it was the late 18th century, people lived in shacks anywhere they could. Built by the Normans and later by Roger Bigod, the Castle had a sense of awe for Elizabeth; when she owned it she wrote the novel, invoking those gothic sensibilities that she experienced in her mind.

This novel inspired me to purchase all the other gothic romances out there – I bought The Monk, The Mysteries of Udolpho, The Castle of Otranto, Frankenstein, Vathek, and anthologies of gothic horrors and ghost stories, like M.R James. And of course, Northanger Abbey. But you cannot own all them and not own Angela Carter’s The Bloody Chamber. A lovely collection, suitable for all bookshelves.


Purchase Bungay Castle here and revel in its mystery. For a forgotten English Gothic romance, it is pretty wonderful.

 


In Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey, these horrors are also mentioned…
Castle of Wolfenbach (1793) by Eliza Parsons.
Clermont, a Tale (1798) by Regina Maria Roche.
The Mysterious Warning, a German Tale (1796) by Eliza Parsons.
The Necromancer; or, The Tale of the Black Forest (1794) by 'Ludwig Flammenberg'.
The Midnight Bell (1798) by Francis Lathom.
Orphan of the Rhine (1798) by Eleanor Sleath.
Horrid Mysteries (1796) by the Marquis de Grosse
These books, with their lurid titles, were once thought to be the creations of Jane Austen's imagination, but research in the first half of the 20th century by Michael Sadleir and Montague Summers confirmed that they did actually exist and stimulated renewed interest in the Gothic. All seven were republished by the Folio Society in London in 1968, and Valancourt Books is in the process of reprinting the seven. (from Wikipedia)

 
BUNGAY CASTLE: A NOVEL.

Elizabeth Bonhote (1744-1818)

Life at Bungay Castle seems ideal for the De Morney family. Nestled in the abundant countryside of Suffolk, Bungay Castle’s massive towers reach for blue skies and its solid stone walls are firmly planted in the earth - but all that’s about to change. Strong winds from a violent storm bring the sound of chilling, ghostly cries located far below the castle’s floors. The young De Morneys, Roseline and Edwin, with their friend Madeline, begin a frightening search through the ancient subterranean passageways to discover the cause. Among the dark haunted dungeons, they discover a secret from their family’s past that will forever change their lives. Cob-webbed passageways lit by a single candle, rotting caskets, ghostly sightings, and a mysterious mournful cry are just a few of the abundant gothic surprises in store for all who dare to wander beyond the castle’s locked doors.
Firmly rooted in the Domestic Gothic tradition, Elizabeth Bonhote’s rediscovered 1796 classic is a treasure chest of gothic elements. Combining romance, mystery, seduction, and betrayal, Bungay Castle revises and reinvents the tradition of the trapped female heroine. As we follow Roseline’s journey, we become aware of one of the novel’s most unique aspects: it is a surprisingly feminist novel- a rare achievement in the eighteenth century gothic genre. Rather than waiting to be rescued by men, the young women of Bungay castle achieve agency over their lives, refuse patriarchal orders, and become the rescuing heroines. An exemplary blend of sentiment, romance and the gothic, this reprint is a welcome and long overdue addition to the bookshelves of academics, subway riders, goths, and anyone longing to rediscover the joy of a great read.


 
The Suffolk village of Bungay as it may have looked in the Middle Ages.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Mysterious Chanctonbury Ring

Exploring Chanctonbury Ring - Recalling profound moments from my trip
 
I visited Chanctonbury Ring on the South Downs on 26th July 2006 (almost 7 years to the day), as I had a great desire to see it. I'd dreamed about it twice before I saw it, once before I saw a picture of it, and the second dream after I'd seen an image in a Doreen Valiente book. I wrote a live journal post about it in late 2006, after my return home.

Originally posted on Dec. 9th, 2006 at 3:04 PM
 
Chanctonbury in the mists
 
I was fortunate to visit Chanctonbury Ring on the South Downs in Sussex. I'd heard about the Ring from an old friend, who is actually from the Brighton area, and she used to walk the Downs track all the time, and said that the witches went there. I wanted to hear more. Ronald Hutton, in his Triumph of the Moon book mentions that the Iron-age rampage hillfort was covered in Beech trees. He mentioned its location - 2.5 miles S.E. of Washington village in West Sussex. I found it in my AA Great Britain Road Map. Just imagine seeing this place in its heyday.

But first, before I even saw a pic of it, I had a dream about it. Of course, in the dream the Ring looked different, it was a tall narrow hill with a copse of pine trees on it. The afternoon sun was glowing golden, but the landscape looked like Australia - gum trees being visible here and there. I remember having a friend with me in the dream, but never saw her. The next thing, I was on the hill and we could not see much of the outside world because of the pine trees being very thick and the peak of the hill dipped, like a small crater, and was covered in golden pine needles. Of course this was not Chanctonbury Ring, but in my dream, I told myself it was. I really wanted to see if it looked like this.

I had that dream in March 2005. Then I got a copy of Doreen Valiente's Witchcraft for Tomorrow and there was a photo of the Ring in it. It was on top of a hill, a copse of beech trees. The second dream I had about it was earlier in 2006. I could see the Ring on a distant hill, as seen in the picture in Doreen's book, and I was near a small town, but I do not recall the town I was near.


I want to know why I dreamed about it, and why I've been interested in it ever since...
 
Wikipedia says....
 
Local legend has it that Chanctonbury Ring was created by the Devil and that he can be summoned by running around the clump of trees seven times anti-clockwise. When he appears he will offer you a bowl of soup in exchange for your soul. The Ring is also rumoured to increase fertility in women who sleep underneath the trees for one night.
 
 
Research about Chanctonbury Ring was found on the Mysterious Britain website....
http://www.mysteriousbritain.co.uk/england/west-sussex/featured-sites/chanctonbury-ring.html



It tells about witchcraft history, UFO sightings and unpleasant experiences there - for example....

15th June 1968 the Sussex Sky Watchers began an all night vigil at Chanctonbury. Most of the night passed without incident. However in the early hours of Sunday morning one member of the group, who was walking among the trees, suddenly lost the use of his arms and legs and fell to the ground screaming for help. Other members of the group, running to his aid, were soon suffering similar affects. This lasted about five minutes after which they all recovered with no apparent after effects.

Reports continued to be made of UFO's seen over the hill and ghostly images winding their way in and out of the trees though. In 1974 the Ghost and Psychic Investigation Group was formed and their main interest at that time was Chanctonbury Ring.
On the 24th August 1974 four members of the group, myself included, settled down for a night under the stars. At approximately 11 pm, whilst walking through the centre of the Ring, one member of the group was lifted several feet off the ground. Mr. Lincoln remained suspended in mid air for several seconds, although at the time it seemed like hours. During this he was crying out 'No More! No More!' and was obviously in some considerable pain. He then dropped to the ground landing heavily on his back. He was very shaken by his experience, as we all were, but unlike the rest of us Mr. Lincoln refused to visit the site for further studies.                             

- Charles Walker

I saved this information before I went overseas, but don't recall reading it before I left. So since I went, I've learnt that the place has unpleasant feelings. I did not sense that while I was there. Many of the great beech trees are gone after the great hurricane of 1987. A lot of old, and ancient trees in Sussex and Surrey was damaged/destroyed back then.


After hurricane - taken by me in July 2006 facing East. Tumuli in foreground, excavated.

In the centre of the Ring, there is fenced off re-growth of several different plants and trees, and looks too dense to go into. The outer ring has its distinct dykes and mounds with trees on it. Not sure if there are any burial type mounds found in the actual Ring, but I found about 5 or 6 tumulus mounds around it, all levelled with evidence of excavation, and some tumulus further down the track, some under thick vegetation, or over fences.

But now, my ideas of Chanctonbury are less dream-like and dramatic, as I have been there physically now, and have had no dreams about it since. The UFO sightings reported were bizarre. Anyone interested should read the Mysterious Britain link I added. That same warm overcast day, I also went to Cissbury Ring, which is a few miles further South, on the Downs near Findon. This hill fort is far larger compared to Chanctonbury, but for me, Chanctonbury has far more mystery to it.

More from the Mysterious Britain website...

OCCULT ACTIVITY
For many years there have been stories of occult activity at Chanctonbury Ring and from the early 1960's I, together with a few other interested parties, have been involved in the investigation of this site. Quite frequently we have come across small pieces of evidence, which would indicate that an occult group has used the site. However in 1979 the discovery of a nine-foot circle constructed of flint provided positive proof. In the center of the circle was a five-pointed star, also constructed of flint, and part of a fallen tree trunk had been used as an altar. Nothing of this nature has been found since but small pieces of evidence continue to be found.



Ritual activity???


1979
Pagans and wiccans I have spoken to all feel that Chanctonbury Ring is a 'powerful site' but most will not consider using it for any type of ritual or worship because of its bad reputation. It was thought that the damage caused by the hurricane would have made it less attractive but this does not seem to have been the case.
 
This above piece is certainly the case - witches, according to Doreen Valiente, have been coming up here for many years. I am unaware whether Doreen herself actually went up there, but she does report in her book An ABC of Witchcraft that people are known to go up there on May Day to watch the Beltane dawn.
I bought a book in 2008 called The Secret Country by Janet and Colin Bord (my favourite authors) and found in it an image of Chanctonbury before the trees were destroyed in 1987.
 
 
 
Below are images I took on the 26th July, 2006...
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
When you are there, the ring is not much to look at, and unless you jump the inner fence, you can only circle the outer ring. Nor can you get any real great photos of it unless you are in the air. Below is an image of Chanctonbury by Adrian Warren facing South. To see it on Google Earth, go to Washington - a small village in Sussex north of Findon and Worthing - it's a little bit south-east of Washington.
 
 
 

Berkeley Castle and the Mediaeval Baebes


 

A dream was realised on the weekend of the 22nd and 23rd of July, 2006. I got to see the Mediaeval Baebes, my favourite group, perform at the Berkeley Castle Joust in Gloucestershire. Not only that, I got to see one of the most beautiful Castles in the West. I have since discovered that my ancestors are from this area. I have very fond memories of this time in England, even though I was a little uncomfortable with my company where I was staying at the time.

Jul. 24th, 2006 at 9:41 PM
 
 

No traffic in Cambridge - feet only!
jackdaw in forest
I had planned to meet my friend Anne in Oxford, and booked a train ticket for it, but the day before the trip, I heard from Anne who emailed me telling me she was staying near Cambridge instead, so I had to change the ticket for Cambridge to meet her there instead. It was Friday and a lovely sunny
day as I got to Cambridge and went into the city for over an hour before meeting Anne who was to pick me up from there. The centre of Cambridge is amazing, I remember wondering why I could hear everyone walking around, and realised that the silence of the centre of Cambridge was due to no traffic being allowed through. It makes it a peaceful place. Back at the train station I found Anne, and we began our journey to Cirencester in the West.
 
We drove south to the M25 - the London ring road, and got onto the M4. At one point we tried to stop in Reading, but did not find anywhere, and Anne, gave up, driving on to Cirencester. Four hours after leaving Cambridge, we got to Cirencester at about 7pm and booked into our Travelodge and ate at Little Chef. Anne felt terrible as she had not got much sleep, as she had met a lover on her journey.

We went to bed at about 9:30pm - my suggestion, and we slept, or simply rested, for 10 to 11 hours. On the Saturday morning we got up, felt better and ate pancakes at Little Chef. We drove onto Berkeley Castle near the River Severn to go to the Joust. It was another lovely day, overcast, but warm.

And when we turned up, we got very excited. There were bell tents everywhere, banners flags and so much colour, as a medieval fayre should be - not in a dusty, drought like Australia. People were dressed in period costume for the occasion, and it made me want to get back into re-enactment. We met some nice people who explained to us the history of the objects they had - mentioning we were students of medieval history got them worried, but we still don't know everything.
 


The Mediaeval Baebes
Everything we saw was a feast for the eyes. There were battles going on in a field almost all the time, some birds of prey on display and a joust was being shown at different times throughout the day.

Then the Mediaeval Baebes first performance was to be at 1.20, so we got front row to the right. I had to pinch myself often when I realised where I was and what I was about to witness. They wore mauve and they sang fantastically. It was so good to finally see them. I took a lot of photos and filmed a lot of songs, and when they finished their set, they told us that they are performing again at 5pm, all with a new set of songs. As soon as they got off stage, they sat down to do some book/cd signing, so we all queued up and I got out my songbook
which I had brought with me all the way from Australia and they all signed it, Anne bought a songbook there and got that
signed. I then got them to sign a postcard for Gemma, for all that she's done for me in the past few weeks, its the least I can do. Then I approached Marie Findley, the 'witty' one of the Baebes. I asked her to sign a post card for a friend of mine back home who loved the Ken Russell movie that she was in. She found that rather humorous.



signing my songbook
We saw falconry, archery demonstrations, and went for a tour in the castle. The courtyard is amazing, and we could not take pictures inside. The Castle is in such a lovely situation and the garden surrounding it is gorgeous! One of the bedrooms really struck me - it was such a romantic medieval style bedroom, exactly how you would expect a lovely bedroom to be. It was such I shame I could not take a picture of it. The interior of the Castle was the most beautiful I have ever seen, probably what everyone expects a lovely Castle to look like.


Courtyard of the Castle
We walked around the garden and enjoyed a drink and scones, before we made our way down to the stage again to watch the Baebes sing again, this time dressed in white and with a new set
of songs. We sat further away up the back. Their song 'How death comes' really hypnotised me, it was their dances and movements that did it. I was quite transfixed.




The Baebes in white
After a while, the day ended at 6pm and we moved our car from the event car park, which was in a field, to the public car park of the Castle. Anne had booked tickets for us to go to the Banquet feast and got a free glass of Mead, then watched a medieval dance group do some fantastic dances. We had front row view of the whole feast, will a prefect view to watch the entertainment that night, and to see the Baebes sing again. I let Anne sit front row. The food was great and so was the entertainment - all dressed 
dancers
as lords, there was an MC going by the name of Sir William, and two lords representing Lancashire and Yorkshire - the War of the Roses. And then there was Devilstick Peat the Fool in red and yellow, who juggled, did amazing tricks, and generally made us laugh.

The Baebes came into the tent before the second course. They wore their mauve again. They sang some of the same songs from that day - and they were fantastic. I thought it was great that I got to see them perform three times in one day.


Entertainers posing for my camera
The dessert comprised of jelly in a Castle mould shape. There were even fortune tellers going around the room, giving people readings - one who visited us was a geomancer.
The evening was very enjoyable, we were well fed and entertained - it was worth every penny.

I've been to many a medieval feast in my time, but nothing like one at a real Castle. Looking forward to visiting Berkeley Castle again one day. The Joust held at Berkeley has been cancelled since. I
believe the 2007 event was a wash out (cancelled due to floods - Devilstick Peat told me that 2 years later), so I was lucky that I went the year I did.

 
The Feasting Marquee
A dress on display
 
Joust!